Passports and sh*t

I received my new passport at the weekend, just in time for the pseudo-family trip to The Shetland Isles. I know that a passport is not necessarily required for an internal trip with our land but for some reason I do feel somewhat naked travelling without one. The memories of the old British passport, all black, official and massive are but a dim and distant memory. It was a godsend to generations of military personnel as it provided not only a means to construct a perimeter but acted as a weapon as well. The real shame is the for the first time in my travelling life I had managed to cultivate and maintain an impressive array of visas and stamps.

My cornet is well oiled and ready to go, in fact the only problem is a slightly dented bell-end, and my cornet is a bit beyond repair too (only joking, it will effect the sound a bit). I am still somewhat nervous about taking part in a marching band again, after twenty years, but I'm sure it will be tremendous fun. The rest of the time spent on the mainland will be taken up with pursuing my Shetland quest for sausages, Barbara (our nominal host), will hopefully have some frozen pork for us to take home and Globe Butchers in Lerwick always have some good stuff. I realise that I will almost never become a shining light in the world of brass but I may sparkle somewhat for a moment in the land of sausage.

Trepidation and nervousness is growing with my fellow travellers, particularly Beth. I have checked the weather forecast, especially the shipping forecast for the next few days. It is peculiar that the general weather forecasters, the Met office I mean, seem confident to spout general theoretic nonsense on the likelihood of conditions for days, in fact weeks ahead. But, and I can start a sentence with a BUT, it seems that whenever a serious situation is concerned i.e. shipping, no serious prediction is made more than 24 hours in advance, worth a thought.

Writing, that's yet another serious consideration, my writing has stalled, again. I know where I need to be with regard to the sausage trail but I am, as usual, somewhat behind with the schedule but only by a few weeks. My novel, on the other hand is months behind.

Well time for bed. I've been told.

Amazingly poor comedy, in fact sh*t comedy

At one point, a time when I had not really seen or heard of a great deal of American animated comedy, I actually believed that there were some talented, and indeed, funny writers over the other side of the pond. Then I actually took the time to watch some of the programmes and completely changed my view. I realise that there is no accounting for taste but, and it is a big but, without the experience to compare there is no foundation to complain. Nonsense I suppose without specifics, so let me supply them.

A young man, who shall remain nameless, I will for the sake of this account choose the name...Sam. Ok, Sam has advocated the jocularity and comedy genius of 'Family Guy' for quite some time and as such I took him at his word and made the time to watch this popular animated series. Critical? Intolerant? I am certainly both but I must say that I was suckled on programmes such as 'The two Ronnies', 'Porridge' and 'Monty Python'. As I (im)matured I absorbed 'Black-Adder', 'Red Dwarf' and 'Fools and Horses'. There is genuine genius in all of these but, another big 'kin but, my lads have no notion or interest in them. Instead they prefer the inane, formulaic, bullshit of American nonsense. Heigh-Ho, no accounting for taste I suppose, but, I laugh at the size of this one. Without a real ken of what has gone before and shown the rubbish written by the hacks that put together such shows as the animated dross, and others; Friends, Two and a half men etc. etc. then our children are lost. Lost in a wilderness of heavily telegraphed yet pathetic visual gags (Benny Hill was best at this) and obvious reversals I would prefer a televisual time machine to take us back to a time when it was best just to make people laugh and feel better about themselves.

Finally, I must say, at the behest of my conscience, that this is all all opinion and that I am a militant, opinionated, comedy snob. Laughter exists everywhere and we should allow the generation of the humour to arise at every opportunity, but it's my blog!!!

We're all going to die!!!!

I haven't been watching the star-gazing thing on the BBC but my dad has. One point discussed in the programme, as pointed out by dad, was the likelihood of the planet getting hit by a meteor/asteroid. Come on, it's all about calendars. The blinkered human calendar is all we consider, in general. The question actually translates as, 'will the earth be destroyed by a rock from outer-space in my lifetime?' Extremely unlikely is the answer, but if the original question is re-asked, i.e. what is the probability of the Earth being hit by a massive chunk of extra-terrestrial rock? I would say 1:1, it's going to happen!! Likewise; the likelihood that a catastrophic natural disaster is going to devastate the planet and decimate (or worse) the populace is the same, i.e. certain. I realised some time ago that the important factor here is what calendar you are considering, human, geological or astronomical. Simples *eek*

Also, this 2012 Mayan calendar nonsense. Let's face it, a race planning ahead may have lost interest after a date they knew they would probably never see, coupled with this running out of space on a complicated, carved rock calendar means the a replay, with the Mayan Project managers and risk assessors is probably more trouble than it's worth.

The distillation of all of this wisdom is clear; as an individual I have no power over the stars, tsunamis, volcanoes or prophecies so my best bet and only realistic approach is to open another bottle of wine, help as many people as I can and try to be a good person, or similar.

First real post of the new year

I can't believe that it's over half way through January and so much has happened. I thought that after last year things would be a lot quieter in 2012. Wrong; it was Sam's birthday yesterday, had a few drinks and a karaoke, neighbours asked us to keep it down as we were, and we were, being a bit too noisy. I had to face it, quarter to six on a late Sunday afternoon IS rather late so we sit things down. Shame, it was quite a good night, the lads were singing and I wasn't too shit (Charlotte was awesome though, jealous....;-) Other than that, so much more has happened, Pat has died, work is still shit and the arrangements for Shetland have been completed.

The sausage trail is really taking shape, Shetland is going to be great, especially after the new arrangements. I think that my co-travellers; Emma, Will and Beth, are somewhat concerned now that I have booked them onto a freight ship as opposed to the lush passenger ship they were expecting. However, it appears that we are the only passengers on the crossing and will have the lounge and meal all to ourselves, so we will see how different it actually is.

The Serbia trip is also taking shape, the sausage festival in Turija is the biggest in the country and habitually attempt to create the worlds longest sausage, in fact they managed to do this a couple of years ago but the representative from Guinness failed to show so the 2.5 kilometre sausage was merely a tasty treat.

Anyway, I need to get back into the swing of blogging.

Happy New Year all.

The 2012 Sausage calendar

As we are about to embark on whatever journey 2012 holds for us I had a look at my hastily constructed calendar for sausage related activities and similar and realised how unrealistic it is/was. What was I thinking? The trip to Spain in February has gone, too much in the first few months, and the Murmansk trip cut by a week. It has been updated in the sausage calendar, at the bottom of the page if anyone is interested. Next up is the return to The Shetland Islands, this time I will be accompanied by Emma, Beth and Will, leaving Sam and Ed with Dad holding the fort back in Gosport.

I am really looking forward to my second trip to the most northern land mass in the British Isles, the weather will almost certainly be a lot worse than when last visited in November, in fact the ferry crossing may be a bit lumpy. We'll be staying here, at Bressay lighthouse:

As usual, when the idea is first floated to any of the kids for us to stay any way our of the ordinary they protested in the extreme with the standard, 'It's haunted.' This time, however, as Ed is not with us, both Emma and I have stopped talking about it in the hope that Will and Beth will forget about the accommodation until we arrive. It does help that the journey is more complicated than normal, a case of cars, planes and ferries. Beth in particular is concerned about the ferry crossing from Aberdeen to Lerwick, an overnight sea journey at a time of year when the North Sea makes even the most seasoned oilman shudder. Looking at the bookings as I write, it seems that all appropriate crossings are overnight and probably prone to a more choppy trip, sorry guys. There are a mere twenty five days until we leave and I have to step up my cornet practice so that I don't embarrass myself when I join a marching band that have years of experience at the Up Helly Aa Viking Festival.

Shetland aside, there a couple of trips I need to schedule. One at least is essential, it's more of a sensible change than anything. A friend of mine, cheers Matt, has brought to my attention a German phenomena which may or may not have been influenced by the occupation of British forces in and around Hamburg following the end of the second world war. I won't elaborate as it has the hallmarks of being a bit of a scoop if I follow it through properly. This means my trip to a general German sausage festival has morphed into a visit to a specific one, or at least for specific purpose. The second trip can wait until the second book but intrigues me more than any other. The Lucianian sausage was developed near Naples at the height of the Roman Empire, this was one of the first definitively defined recipes and standardised sausages on record.

The rest of the year is slowly taking shape, and will, no doubt  change as time progresses. Watch this space.

Happy New Year

Just a quickie as I thought I would hit the 100 post mark before the year is out. Emma and I haven't bothered with seeing in the New Year for quite some time but the boys, Sam and Will that is are doing so on their own for the first time. I missed out last year and slept in the back of a car, maybe next year will be different.

Happy New Year once more and I sincerely hope that 2012 delivers all that we wish and hope for.

Another year over

2011 has been a rather peculiar year with plenty going on and much to remember.

I saw the year in with my brother, Tony, at a security post halfway up a mountain in the Islamic Republic of Mauritania. This was during or charity rally to Timbuktu, tensions were high during our time in Mauritania and their government were keen to show obvious signs that they were looking after the interests, and the lives of those foreigners visiting their country over the festive period. This entailed, amongst other things, an armed escort whilst travelling through the capital, Nouakchott and by ensuring that we in a safe, guarded area during the hours of darkness. The latter sounds sensible as all encounters of the last few years involving either terrorists or criminals had taken place at night, the bodies of the victims not being found until the following day when the perpetrators were long gone. The problem with this enforced curfew was that our guides had neglected to infer us of this fact. The road between Nouakchott and Kiffa was reasonably good but as we were moving in convoy we were restricted to the slowest, least equipped or least interested and as such managed 200km in seven and a half hours (or so).  We reached a large army checkpoint and they refused to let us pass, in fact it transpired that there was another convoy from an Irish rally passing through at the same time. We spent the evening parked up amidst years of accumulated debris and saw in the New Year with two cans of beer cooled with an emergency medical cool pack. In the morning we were awoken with cries of 'Allah Akbar' or similar, calling the faithful to prayer. We packed up and were on our way before the sun had risen very far.

I hadn't been back from my trip to Timbuktu long before it was Sam's eighteenth birthday. A rather fun night was had by all but on the negative side someone, I'm looking at you Sam, ripped the bathroom door off it's hinges. It took a while to clean up afterwards but I think Sam enjoyed it. Sam passed his driving test in January also, well done lad do, but unfortunately the price of insurance was so prohibitively expensive that it was not possible to get Sam on the road with the Micra he had inherited. Dad was still staying with us so it was decided that we would sign the car over to him until such time as Sam could could afford to run it. Sad but true.

Over a year ago Emma and I had booked a long weekend break at a Landmark Trust site in Devon. I'd almost forgotten when the reminder email popped up in my inbox. The weekend spent at Kingswear Castle in Dartmouth was relaxing and a real experience.

Dad had been staying with us on and off for some time including over Christmas when Tony and I were on our long drive to Africa. He travelled north to stay with Susan and Jimmy and also to stay with Tony for a bit. When April rolled around it was time for him to return to France. I accompanied him stayed for few days before flying home. It was good to meet up with Dawn and Jason Folley at Dad's barbecue and as usual there was plenty of wine. Dad and I discussed the upcoming plans for this years for a trip to Greece, driving through Croatia, Serbia and Macedonia. For a number of reasons this did not happen and it made it me aware that it's easy to agree to something that is due to happen in the future without considering the implications. Lesson learned.

June was time to remember Mum who passed away on my Dad's 66th birthday, June 10th. A memorial gathering was held back up North in Wallsend at the Comrades club. Many of mum and dad's old friends who still vied in the area took time to pay their respects. There are so many to thank but I was especially please to see Pat, mums longest friend and her daughters, Michelle and Katrina. It's amazing how time passes so quickly but there are some people that you can meet after many years yet still chat as though it was only yesterday. We all had a fantastic time and special thanks must go to Susan and Jimmy who have been there throughout all of the difficult times and without who I doubt if some of us, myself included, could have coped during the dark days immediately after mum passed. Cheers guys, I'll never forget your kindness and support.

The summer arrived and the time when the trip to Greece should have taken place was instead spent on holiday in a small village in Wiltshire. Sam remained at home to look after the dog but the rest of the family had a great time including a memorable day out in Avebury where we blundered through a bunch of travellers holding some festival of nonsense or something, fail to see the point. Will and I hiked along the Wansdyke, fifteen miles over some extremely hilly terrain made me realise how unfit I had become. Will, Beth, Ed and I tried our hand at Geocaching, to the uninitiated this is where you use a GPS to fid previously secreted boxes or 'caches' at designated GPS waypoints. You find them and enter your visit in the log. This was far more my pace and didn't leave me out of breath and covered in welsh and bruises. Would recommend this to anyone, especially with kids, great smart phone apps to help you out too.

August also saw a weekend camping trip for Will and I to The New Forest. Will had turned 16 in June and had taken his CBT and saved up enough money to get himself a moped. The idea for the sausage trail was forming nicely and the farm where we stayed also sold a fine example of sausage, 'Nobby's special' was made with prime pork and smokey bacon. The BBQ Will and I had that night was the most memorable for a long time. This was the first time we had take our small motorised vehicles for a jaunt, Will on his 50cc moped and me on my Cub90. The intention was that we would build up to our planned trip to Mongolia next year on two Honda Cub 90s. Once more these planes were put on hold, mainly because securing visas for some of the Central Asian countries would be difficult because Will would still be under 18 when we were due to travel. A years postponement isn't the end of the world though.

September saw us on another camping trip, this time to the rally launch party at the Bradninch music festival in Devon. Tony, Gareth and Hayley travelled down to join Sam, Will and I. We all hoped that the event would prove to be up to the same standard as the launch party last year. This, however failed to be the case. Certain undesirable elements made their presence felt towards the end of the night causing fights and attempting to set caravans alight. We learned later that there was another party for the veterans of previous rallys held at the same venue as the previous year and which went far better than the one we attended.

September was also the month when Sam and I visited Amsterdam. Predominantly for Sam to meet up with a couple of friends he had made online in the five years or so he had been playing the MMORPG Everquest II. We did meet up and Wieb and his brother took us to a lovely backstreet bar that made the weekend worthwhile. It had been some years since I had been to Amsterdam, well almost, I had been in 2009 but as we arrived around midnight we spent very little time living the whole Amsterdam experience. This time we stayed in a hostel, which I will not do again, and was right in the centre of the party district, again not a good idea.
We did manage to get to the Van Gogh museum, which was OK but I have never liked spending any time in museums and this was no exception and as Sam felt the same we ended up spending more time in the bar at the hostel than anywhere else.

October saw Dad staying with us once more, he accompanied us to the local Thai restaurant for Beth's 12th birthday party. The food at the Nateetip was excellent as usual, although Beth and the boys ordered food far too spicy for them. Emma and I attempted to help out but were also defeated. I can't believe how much Beth has grown up in the past twelve months, she is turning into a beautiful young woman albeit with a very strong and sometimes abrasive personality. Ed looks up to her immensely but she fails to see this. I hope that the next twelve months see her develop with an awareness for the feelings of others. I hope she can finally see how much we all love and respect her and realise that she holds a very special place in the family.

October was the time for Emma and I to renew our marriage vows. As 2011 was our 20th anniversary, we decided to return to Cumbria, we had met in 1990 in Carlisle so the county held memories for us both, and to renew our vows at The Langdale Chase Hotel. Charlotte had worked here as a teenager and had fond memories of the sprawling mansion house. We took the opportunity, during autumn half term holiday, to book a weeks holiday at Centre Parcs in Whinfell Forest near Penrith. Emma and the kids thoroughly enjoyed our time there, so close to nature but also so close your neighbours. I honestly felt restricted and hemmed in, a captive in an expensive money grabbing environment where nothing was included in the price other than the accommodation. The setting was lovely however, we especially loved the cheeky red squirrels who would creep into our lounge following the trail of nuts left by Will, Beth and Ed.

The ceremony at The Langdale Chase was marred only by the absence of Sam who had to remain with Dad in Gosport as he had to undergo a selection process for a job at ASDA and we all agreed that this took priority. The Hotel was fantastic and for Charlotte held many happy memories, me too now. I felt that we had made the right decision immediately, the venue was special, the staff were helpful and the registrar was perfect. I realised that my feelings for Emma are even deeper than they ever have been and  I hope to repeat this exercise once more in ten years. Keri and Michael, Emmas Uncle and Auntie were present and this made the day even more special for my wife. I wish we had more time to stay and talk with Keri and her husband but curfew back at Stalag Whinfell meant we had to be back over the wire before sunset. OK, we had a restaurant booked.

November was the time for the sausage trail to begin. I travelled to The Shetland Islands to commence my search for sausages. I won't labour the event but please take time to read the blog from this period. I am still writing up the events but made some new friends and somehow managed to agree to a return for Up Helly Aa at the end of January where I would join the British Legion Marching Bang to accompany the festivities. It has been some while since I marched and played but I am hoping it will al come back to me. The next twelve months or so will see many more trips following this peculiar, self imposed quest but I am sure it will very rewarding and worthwhile.

Since declaring my intent to follow a quest for sausages a colleague, Johnny W, has expressed a keen interest and indeed has given me many pointers and suggestions. So much so that the idea for a follow up book has already developed into quite a mature concept. The Roman trail, perhaps more generally centred on food and the impact the Romans had, was born. John and I visited Fishbourne Palace near Chichester and I for one was surprised at the fantastically preserved mosaics and artefacts. There is a recreated Roman garden which includes herbs, fruits and vegetables used at the time and prompted me to research even further. This will be an excellent project and I win to start it about this time next year, The Sausage Trail final draft allowing of course. The intention is to trace a route from the birth of certain cuisine in Rome to the British Isles and how it changed and developed when incorporating local influences along the way. (Any publishers reading please send your commissioning ideas and bids to my normal email address;-)

All in all 2011 has been busy. I am married once more, the children are all growing up very, very quickly and time is accelerating at an unpleasant pace. So much planned for 2012, so much so that the blog will continue, hopefully with more feedback from any readers I have picked up.

Happy New Year all, I hope it brings all that you wish.