Moving House

Due to the frustrating incompatibility of Blogger with IE9 I have moved to http://www.johnoramworld.wordpress.com/ with specialist food reviews at http://www.johnorameats.wordpress.com/

Playing Catch Up

It was hot but not continuously sunny. Under the part time cloud it was very steamy. I was, surprisingly, at a bit of a loss, finding four days off rather long. The solution then was to go to Southampton and catch up with photographs long on my 'to-do' list. I was a little jaded after visiting three sites with varying degrees of success and may pause before sending them to Flickr.

I remain concerned that blogger seems to contain errors and may be gaining more. Some of these are, I think, incompatibility with IE9. It might even be sending spurious indications when posted to Facebook. Ah, the joys of the internet! I still can't decide whether to rehome it again because I am not aware of any really good blogging software.

Fog and How It Clears

In the early morning mists of a summer Sunday morning, a deer ran across a road. Not just any road and, frankly, some way from anything qualifying as open countryside. A residential road in Lee on Solent; ran across and melted mysteriously, magically into gardens and seemingly through a wall in so doing. Was it lost, frightened? It seemed a metaphor for our existence. We are all a little lost or frightened at times and that anomalous animal symbolised for a moment our fears and, in its disappearance, how they too might disappear with the rising of a new day.

The new day was reluctant in its arrival. I had been to see my Mum and returned to Greg with an unexpected proposal of garden visits. By chance I had discovered that it was an NGS (National Gardens Scheme) open day and identified two local properties as well as an Alverstoke garden whose existence had not previously impinged on my consciousness. We went to Carisbrooke Road in Rowner and immersed ourselves in a beautiful garden. It has to be a hobby of the heart to be that well conceived and looked after. Greg photographed flowers which the macro function on his camera handles very well and I turned my attention to less obvious subjects which will appear in Flickr when I am not writing this. We went to the second property in Lee but found that it would not open until 2pm. A brief servicing stop at home and then we went to Alverstoke for the remarkable Crescent Gardens. We went via the shore. Throughout the morning the ominous sound of foghorns had suggested the persistence of poor visibility across the Solent and thus it was. In fact we moved between two lands; in one only hundreds of metres onshore bright sunshine fell whilst the fog which clung dourly to the water dared to curl and swirl tentatively onto land whilst all the while facing the retreat which would come with the later afternoon. Few it seemed were deterred by the conditions. Yachts came and went in the mists and powered vessels, jetskis and motorboats raced at speeds unabated by their grey surroundings. On land, the Bayside Cabin Cafe furnished another good meal. There were dozens of people there and hundreds in the area. We lunched after Crescent Gardens which are very beautiful and intended to proceed to Spindles (the second NGS property) via the Lee seafront. I had intended to observe if not actually particpate in the anti-Tesco protest but we were temporarily overtaken by events. A passing cyclist who happened to be a motor mechanic pointed out that we had a large bolt in the front nearside tyre of our virtually new car. It had not deflated - even if I did at this point - and, after another pitstop, we went to Kwikfit. Thank goodness they are open on Sunday. They are, I learned, open every day except Christmas Day and, yes, that does include Boxing Day; I asked. A repair rather than a replacement saw us on our way and finally to Spindles. It was another beautiful garden but very popular and therefore crowded.

As we drove along the seafront the sun was driving the fog back across the Solent and the landmark Fawley chimney seemed eerily close by virtue of an optical illusion. A shallow bank persisted along Southampton Water. The Tesco protestors were being lightly observed by the police and we drove on to the airfield where I snatched some shots which is all one can do without accompanying someone on business.

Some clouds have drifted across my life of late but the cold front of adversity is being met by my own occlusion of studied nonchalance. I shall even reserve a warm front for my few true friends but there will be no depression.

And They Shall Fear My Tread (1)

Today's supermarket scam seen in Tesco Extra, Havant. Subsidiary and partially obscured display Tetley teabags 240s, £3 a packet. On the main aisle where all Tetley sizes were together, no shelf edge ticket for the 240s promotion but large eye catching promotion for 160s - 2 for £6. So, to summarise then, that would be 320 teabags for £6 or, erm, 480 teabags for £6; that takes some thought doesn't it? Remedial action, theatrical demonstration to Produce Manager who visibly winced. He should; I waited for the end of a meeting of 10 managers - that's about the same number of people who were on checkouts at the time. Go figure. Yup, I know I'm an asshole but I am an asshole with proper motivation and a heart in the right place. It is actually wrong to want things done properly and fairly?

There were small clusters of people on Havant's pavements today. They were all affected by the same fraud perpetrated by banks and building societies across the country. Yes, it's the old 9.30 opening for 'training' trick. Having a nice chat and a cup of coffee is not 'training'. And 9.32 isn't 9.30. If you're going to open late, do so on time, thank you.

The Hyundai i10, a small car driven by people with low budgets and marginal driving skills. I don't know if there is a hybrid version but I am fairly sure that the one in front of us this morning runs on 4 AA batteries - which needed recharging.



Today's prize for sheer magnificence, the day after I passed my medical, goes to Marks and Spencer All Butter Cheese Twists.

Mourning Sickness

All death is to be mourned. Often, the perceived or even actual nature of a person in life can shape or subordinate that mourning but perhaps it is not for mere humans to judge at such a moment. I can not say I mourned the departure of, for example, Saddam Hussein but I do deprecate the unseemly celebration which accompanied the event and the accompanying endorsement of judicial killing. You have seen my comments on execution before; the death penalty is wrong. Daeth in any form can never be a cause for celebration.

Most of us enter and leave this life unnoticed; I know I shall. Some have the distinction of making an impression in the lives of others and often for good reason. This weekend took two such people from us. Of course it is judgemental, even if positively so, to venture such comment but my life and thoughts were enriched by both. No man is perfect and I am sure that Saturday's departures had flaws but both impressed me in different ways. Brian Haw was the anti-war campaigner who defied state-sponsored oppression and, of course, war in Parliament Square. How strange that someone could be vilified in official circles for opposing war. Are there people in the second decade of the 21st century who are pro war?

In an entirely different orbit was Clarence Clemons. Best known as the extraordinary saxophonist in the E-Street Band, Clemons' viscerally memorable solos and stage presence will live on. Springsteen has now lost Clemons and Danny Federici and the band is diminished for those losses but no more so than our blue planet itself.

It is so easy to read and swiftly dismiss the many reports of deaths great and small which populate the daily news. When my colleague Ben posted on the untimely demise of Ryan Dunn I had to look him up as I am not a 'Jackass' fan. Therein lay a tiny lesson. Perhaps we should take a moment to note all deaths and learn the meaning of loss in the lives of others as well as our own. Perhaps then we would be better to live with.

Reise til Norge - Day 7 - At Sea

A Review of P&O and Oceana.

Champagne and chocolate greeted us in a good sized and well appointed cabin but these things were needed to soothe after a protracted and poor check-in experience. With experience of only one P & O ship it is going to be difficult in this review to differentiate between what might be specific to Oceana and what might be generic to the company. I felt a lack of warmth from the crew from the moment we boarded and service continued to lack an edge throughout the voyage. I should say though that where I did complain on three occasions (and about three different subjects) my name and face were remembered and I subsequently received a more personal approach. The weak point of the cruise was definitely the food which was relentlessly mundane although often more flavoursome than its appearance suggested. Menus remained incoherent and it was very difficult to imagine how one thing would go with another. Drinks waiters in the self-service restaurant were inattentive especially in the first half of the cruise. Restaurant service (in the Ligurian) was mechanical more than enthusiastic but mostly efficient. The general standard of maintenance was poor with several things visibly broken and remaining so for 24hrs or more. The casino, an undeniable money-spinner on any cruise, was dull and poorly equipped with several non-functioning machines. They do not meet industry standard insofar as they continue to use tokens instead of paper. In most respects, P & O do not compete with Princess, NCL, Celebrity or even Holland America.
The shows, however, were a different matter. The Headliners Theatre Company is really pretty good and most of the performances offered pure escapism. The singing and dancing was energetic and accomplished. The artists, whom one could meet after every show, were extremely engaging. The ships photographers were also quite personable. Internet service on any cruise is always rather hit and miss and this was no exception. There was a server upgrade on the last day of the cruise but as soon as people tried to access the rehosted service it collapsed under high demand. A cap of 60 is perhaps within the technological capacity of the environment but potentially inappropriate for passenger numbers of 2000+. The itinerary was excellent and the structure of it optimised opportunities for both activity and leisure. I enjoyed all our ports.
I am in no hurry to use P & O again; it seems to attract a clientele who might be more comfortable in southern Spain or one of the cheaper Turkish resorts. I shall listen to reports from other P & O users but my bookings are likely to be more up-market in the future.

Reise til Norge - Day 6 - Bergen

It was a very beautiful morning for our arrival in Bergen and I went up on deck early to watch as much of the approach as possible. There had seemed no end to daylight. It was well after 1030pm last night when we passed ‘Marco Polo’ and I photographed her. Ships that cross in the night. This morning we passed under the Askøy Bridge but I did not see anyone who might be Tom Børslid. It was warm and sunny for the first half of the day and we had a mostly good time, self-guided, but there were disappointments. The park containing Lille Lungagårdvann suffers from litter like we saw in Stavanger. Bergen station has to be one of the dullest I have been to. Several things are in need of repair. It is based on a classic grand European trainshed and the sheer volume of infrastructure suggests to one that it can only be viably run with some sort of substantial service which there is not. The station came to life for the impending departure of an Oslo train which was evidently very popular. Walking was pleasant enough but, as in so many places, views are often cluttered. We were minded to go on the funicular Fløyenban but the queue was too long. We then stuck to the old town area and some of its shops and sights. We went in MacDonald’s so Greg could use the internet and I had a meal. It was the freshest I have had in a long while and significantly cheaper than Burger King in Stavanger. We walked to Puddefjordsbroen (bridge) from which I was able to take today’s photographs of Oceana.  Bergen is an expansive port and I was able to photograph the other two cruise ships only when we sailed. They were Hurtigruten’s Nordnorge and Holland America’s Ryndam. Cloud came over during the afternoon as forecast albeit without rain and we did not mind spending the rest of the time on board. There were substantial internet problems and I am very keen to get back to something more reliable. The evening Tex-Mex buffet was pretty incoherent. The evening show ‘Encore’, from West End shows, was excellent. We could tell from our seats that we had sailed into a storm. No long sunset this evening but the roughest seas of the cruise – which thankfully don’t bother me one bit. We should be at Southampton at 7am on Saturday and home as soon as we can collect our car.

Reise til Norge - Day 5 - Olden

I got up early to watch our cruise in the Nord Fjord. It is a much gentler place than the Sognefjord with greener and more sloping sides. Our arrival in Olden was sedate and involved manoeuvring around Ibero’s Grand Mistral which would be tendering. Olden is pretty but small and was under the predictable layer of mountain hugging cloud. We had a leisurely breakfast and went ashore but soon after that it started raining heavily which did not encourage exploration. We went to the Oceana’s internet cafe as much for power as connection. We had been warned that there would probably be little or none in the fjords. That provided another excuse for the absence of the already elusive internet manager. The condition of the ship and overall level of service are not what we expect – I had been warned – and I doubt we would use this lower end of the market again. It is not at all a bad thing to have limited access to the internet and I am enjoying some sort of detox because I spend too much time online at home. Having said that, I am going to have a massive Flickr backlog and that is also due, in part, to the need to browse meticulously to research my notes.
With Jack Reacher safely in Wisconsin, I have moved on to the highly skilled Michael Dobbs’ ‘The Reluctant Hero’. It is, to use a cliché, a page turner. That kept me occupied until we could go out again. It was a very pleasant walk to the few shops of Olden but it did start raining again. The air was palpably clearer than any we are used to and a small part of ones soul was drawn towards the tranquillity of the area. I think though that its attractions would soon pall for the mildly hyperactive. We went back to the ship at lunchtime and secured a rare place in Cafe Jardin. I think the Marco Pierre White connection is, strictly speaking, for dinner only (evening meal, David) and he probably should be careful what he puts his name to as it is there all day for people to see. I immediately homed in on a salad of chick peas, feta and medhool dates which visibly contained no dates. Normally a man of great patience and legendary tolerance, I hate incorrect menu descriptions (and misused culinary terms). I gently drew attention to the date deficiency and the remedial action was amusing to behold. The maitre d’ had laughably suggested that they might be ‘very finely chopped’. My retort was to request an electron microscope; ‘finely chopped’....?; they were invisible because they weren’t there! We chose very different main dishes. Greg’s Coq au Vin; we always have high expectations of Coq. My cheese and pickle baguette was another matter with the pickle so little in evidence it might have been vapour. Perhaps they did not wish to offend the sophisticated palate; perhaps they had not noticed that there are none beyond our cabin. The patisserie chef has a lot to learn and the first thing is to much reduce his/her use of gelatine.

It is regrettable not to say inexplicable that ship security is now, cosmetically at least, similar to that at airports. The problem is that ship security staff (not just on Oceana) make airport security staff look like Mastermind candidates. They have no real idea what they are looking for or why and I am not surprised. Boarding a ship is not at all like boarding an aeroplane. The potential outcomes of so-called security lapses are entirely different. We returned to the internet cafe for the desk space and I got my photographs and blog draft up to date. Indian food in the buffet was reasonably good. The evening show ‘Simply The Best’ was very energetic but requires more practice and, as we reached the open sea on an amazingly beautiful evening, the internet was back on.

Reise til Norge - Day 4 - Flåm and Voss

I awoke to a sixth form geography lesson, a geology module on a field-trip I never did. We cruised Sognefjord and it was mostly grey overhead but it was still worth seeing. There were waterfalls of course and isolated huts reached only, one presumes, by water. There were, however, habitations higher up reached probably by some sort of road or track and, again close to the shore, some small towns. When we walked on the open deck it did all bring a smile to my face. It rained heavily as we arrived in Flåm but it was perhaps some sort of summer morning ritual as sun appeared soon afterwards and fell across the head of the fjord. Today’s tour was called ‘Norway in a Nutshell’ and that, I think, is what it gave us. Everything was very well organised and there was some bright weather until mid-afternoon when it rained relentlessly. This is not surprising given Norway’s west coast rainfall figures. The scenery is spectacular but can look very tedious in poor weather. Our stop on the Flåm Railway at Kjosfossen was, however, overwhelming and simply made me cry. It is the most magnificent waterfall and the sun shone behind it; breathtaking is not an adequate word. A train journey (we made two; Flåm – Myrdal and Myrdal – Voss) is good for sightseeing but not necessarily ideal for photography. There were few opening windows and plenty of reflections. The late snow suggested that some is year-round. Voss is, apparently, famous for skiing and extreme sports. Being an exponent of neither, I did not know that. It was quiet today but had enough delights for me on a decent length stay. Lunch in Park Hotel was really quite good. Our tour buses were Swedish and it was unclear to me whether they had been brought in to augment limited local resources. We also saw tour buses from Latvia, Estonia and Ukraine. We stopped at another extraordinary waterfall, Tvindefossen. I was shocked to learn how recent the good part of the road network is especially that in tunnel. Much dates from only the 1980s and 90s. It was a tiring day and a fortuitously structured programme allows us to wind down for the rest of the holiday with an independent port day in Olden, a short tour in Bergen and a sea day.

Reise til Norge - Day 3 - Stavanger

It was a beautiful morning as we arrived at Stavanger but, unfortunately, it did not last anything like as long as in the forecast delivered by the deputy Captain. Stavanger is about the sea and there is plenty of marine interest on the approaches and in the surrounding areas including what I took to be an oil rig under construction. I later decided it was lying across a barge and wished I knew more. Certainly the industry support vessels are in evidence. There are ships galore for the relevant groups on Flickr but my eye was caught by what was on a ship in the neck of the harbour. The motor yacht ‘Ice’ with Cayman Islands registry had a New Zealand registered (ZK-HLH) Eurocopter EC135 on board. She is a charter yacht so I don’t know that it was anyone well known visiting – as the truly wealthy are often anonymous – but I can be fairly sure that they have more money than I do. At this point I should be able to insert a picture of the helicopter (which I have posted on FB) but that is just one function of Blogger which has inexplicably degraded. When I first noticed toolbar accessible functions locking off, I Googled (ironically enough) and found that others have the same problem(s), so I don’t feel quite so aggrieved. I can only assume it is to do with the combination of Blogger and one or more of IE9, AOL or Windows. It all means that I am quite likely after this vacation to have to take a short break and then, once again, find a new home for my blog. I might even have to start my own website, a prospect which quite frightens me and about which I understand less than 1% of what I probably should.


I felt that Norway’s fourth largest town was waking a little slowly and discovered that 10am is a common opening time. However, it was also a public holiday and many places did not open at all. Cruise schedules cannot easily avoid the many different holidays around the world but this has happened before and I think there should be more onus on the cruise company to let you know, certainly on arrival, given the extent to which they sell the virtues of a destination. We had determined that we could stay within a very walkable radius of our mooring. I did not need a scenic tour as I figure our three days of fjord cruising will cover that. The helicopter took up some of my time in the port area as they were moving it and looked as though they might be preparing it for flight although that did not materialise.

It was still well before 10am but a bank of grey cloud was moving steadily in and that was an end to the sunshine and a change of lighting for our photography. There is a pleasant lake park, Breiavatnet, with a fountain and we circumnavigated this to the station. I can only wonder what Stavanger station might once have looked like because, today, it is a bit like Birmingham New Street or Euston albeit on a much smaller scale. Most of the track away from the concourse end is hidden gloomily beneath the expanse of a concrete roof. There appear to be frequent trains though the 1033 to Oslo did not seem to have attracted a huge crowd – perhaps people fly? There are sculptures everywhere but not all are especially photogenic and some have been vandalised. It would appear that social evils are here as everywhere as there is also a noticeable litter problem. The Old Town, Gamle Stavanger, seems to me a little fraudulent. The original houses might well be ‘old’ but they are sensibly protected from the region’s winter by double glazing. I am not sure that they do Grade II listed buildings in Old Stavanger. The depth of the harbour waters must be impressive as Oceana was moored at town centre quayside.

We sought the opportunity to use free internet first at Burger King then Stavanger Museum. At the burger joint where otherwise familiar burgers were TWICE the price of England we were politely told that ‘free’ internet was only for those who had purchased meals. At up to ten pounds for a sandwich I think I would also want a campaign medal. Meanwhile, the canny crew members were arrayed on public benches outside with their laptops open. It is a poignant sight because the seamen, many Filipino, are away for long periods with few precious opportunities to contact friends and family. The museum was a friendly place and, unusually, had a secure network. I started my Flickr uploads but was not comfortable without doing the meticulous research (for my notes) and had a beastly headache which curtailed my efforts and made me feel faint as we rejoined the ship.
Perhaps because of the holiday restaurant closures, the ship was not as quiet as it might have been on a port day and lunch was a bit crowded. At this point, I would record that there may well be as many sticks, crutches and wheels on board as legs but then my cousin would find me even more (potentially) rude and intolerant so I shall put this in hidden text [I wonder if it will work]....No? Oh dear. Whatever one’s level of social benevolence, this is one of the older cruises we have been on and has a clientele who perhaps do not mind the relentlessly British food. It remains adequate and often tasty but poorly presented and appears in poorly crafted menus – meaning, for example, you wonder exactly how the vegetables on offer would actually go with the main courses.

Afternoon rain was limited; afternoon sleep fought off my near-migrainous headache and the cloud retreated to medium levels. Small Stavanger is going to make Flåm and Olden look tiny but the stop was a good one and I am anxious to get the time to process and upload my photographs to show that. As we sailed away some rain fell, enough to drive us from the deck. From the restaurant a solitary wind turbine and, later, a strange fluorescent marker (a wreck perhaps) caught the eye. Dinner was fine and I tried the ‘Regional Dish’ which was tasty. We went to the show again and it really was very good. ‘Stop In The Name Of Love’, was Motown themed and cleverly put together in ‘Mamma Mia’ style. The energy of the dancers who perform most nights of the cruise and rehearse is unbelievable. The show was highly escapist and is absorbing enough to blot out any worries from outside. Now as we transit misty seas, I am looking forward to two train rides tomorrow.

Reise til Norge - Day 2 - At Sea

It was a bright if cool day on the North Sea and we learned that we had left behind much wetter weather in the UK. We also heard that they have not had this weather in the North Sea for two weeks. We were 30 miles east of the UK coast and our passage took us close to oil fields which were fascinating. To watch the sea and the horizon is a bit like looking at the radar without the strips; where is everybody going from and to? Each journey important to its crew, their families and employers; from one place to another, criss-crossing the oceans.
Lunch was dull, a steak and kidney pie having little flavour and only the mashed potato being well done. I slept a lot, an important restorative feature of sea days. In my more vigorous moments I lived vicariously the life of Jack Reacher, someone I could never actually be. Tonight was black tie and most people made the effort but the food was a bit humdrum again. My salmon was acceptable; my sea bass was a sardine impersonator at least as far as size. I was planning to record that service is cohesive but a waiter at our station seemed to get stranded on his own and things broke down a bit. We felt a bit foolish later when we went to the wrong theatre and saw ‘Gotta Sing, Gotta Dance’ instead of the comedian. However, it was a well choreographed, well performed, high energy show and it is remarkable that there are six shows during the cruise. We emerged from the theatre to be reminded just how far north we are already with the sun still well established in the sky. I am looking forward to arriving in Stavanger but was disturbed that port details including excursion meeting times etc. had not been promulgated by what, frankly, would be bedtime for many.

Reise til Norge - Day 1 - Southampton

With uncertainty about the well being of our car still in my mind, we were herded by a G4S retiree/reject into a toiletless shed for the longest cruise check-in queue I have yet experienced. Our wait of over 30 minutes gave us time to confirm that there was no-one on board we would actually want to talk to; it's a shame we'll have to dine with them. The large representation of the hard of moving should find the fjords challenging. On board, the ship does look nice and our cabin - we forgot we had ordered a mini-suite - is excellent and spacious. As we thrust away from the quay, I began to doubt that our location above the propellers was ideal. Still, we'll never be far away from the next screw. The first impression of the food was that it is visually poor but tasty. The internet manager was not available as advertised and no-one seemed to be able to contact him. Dinner was fairly good except for portion sizes and having to sit with six other people. Dinner was served efficiently by a largely sub-continental waiting staff. The waiters were generous with people’s requests for additional food. We bought our internet packages later.

Waterside Brasserie

Perhaps wishing to adjust early to the anticipated luxury of our cruise, we decided to at eat the Waterside Brasserie, Lee on Solent. On the shore but slightly hidden, it is not as accessible as it might be. You need to know it is there. It does not have its own parking and the nearest ramp is completely unsuitable for wheelchairs. These can be safely propelled only from another access point some way away. The menu was enticing and tolerably priced. I felt virtuous to order a dressed crab salad and it was not bad but it is fair to say that the best feature of the dish was the, probably local, new potatoes. I have little experience of crab in the singular but the dark meat mix unintentionally reminded me of builders sand albeit more in appearance than texture. It was at least cheaper than my partner's salmon with fresh vegetables and that surprised me. A chocolate and chilli creme brulee was pretty spectacular with the infused heat subtle but distinct. Across the table, bread and butter pudding disappeared quickly even in a slightly over-sweet creme anglaise.

For above average food and unsurpassed Solent views, Waterside is worth a visit especially perhaps on one of these long evenings.

Food 7.5 out of 10; service 7 out of 10.

Baiting

To separate Rant from Restaurant, I am writing more than one blog entry today. This is the rant, a short one; your beans on toast won't get cold reading it.

Baiting is a common feature of supermarkets today. Unfortunately, even the Consumer Association in a recent review of supermarket tricks conceded that is difficult to prove as an intentional strategy. Nevertheless, there is no doubt in my mind. Baiting, in case you don't know, is where a retailer publicises a special offer which, in fact, is not available and anticipates that you will instead purchase a strategically located and, naturally, more expensive alternative - another size or another brand. When challenged on availability of the alleged offer they will give you all sorts of disingenuous waffle about stocking difficulties, awaiting delivery or even completely wrong information about the offer dates.

Today it was Princes Corned Beef in Tesco. Theoretically 49p off and £1.49 for a small tin. Amazingly it was out of stock but adjacent to the resulting space was Princes LEAN Corned Beef in the same size for only £2.49. Funny that. You will find countless examples of this across all the leading supermarkets.

I think we can agree that they are all master baiters.

What A Difference A Day Makes

Had I written this yesterday, the day of most of the events recorded, the prose might have been much more heated. As it was I arrived home from London exhausted and a little deflated. I like to get things done and, at a late hour, I knew I could not process all my photographs (to my satisfaction), write a blog entry and get smart on Facebook. Without my notebook I could not even have held all my thoughts from the day. I am a great list and note maker. My mind is a little overactive and thoughts sometimes get lost. The weather on Monday was unsettled but excluded an early return to Mottisfont where, it appeared, lighting would be similar to yesterday. It was time to gamble; the first gamble was that it would be brighter later and further inland. With Ai Weiwei's 'Circle of Animals' at Somerset House closing on June 26th and my Norwegian Fjord Fiesta about to intervene, it seemed important, almost urgent, to get to London. I did not want bright sunshine in the Fountain Court; the harsh shadows it causes are not conducive to good photography of sculpture. I was tempted to go all the way by train (from Havant); it was as well that we did not. We drove the familiar A3 noting that the next time we do so we shall probably benefit from the soon to be opened Hindhead Tunnel. A journey to London these days is an expensive proposition with train fares on the one hand balanced by the congestion charge, parking and probably Travelcards on the other. We both thought of the same compromise at the same time, to avoid the congestion charge and seek lower parking charges by parking outside central London and using a Travelcard to complete the journey. We chose Kingston and this, at first, brought a bonus. Parking was fairly easy albeit in a typical NCP poorly designed and maintained edifice. Our choice of location brought us across David Mach's uplifting 'Out of Order' an installation of 'tumbling' telephone boxes which will shortly appear on my Flickr photostream. The challenge in photographing something so popular is to try to do something a little different. I have at least avoided the clutter some people don't seem to mind in their pictures. When you are using the viewfinder/EVF or LCD you can not cease to be aware what is going on at the periphery of the intended image or allow oneself to concentrate on the subject itself to the exclusion of what else will appear in frame.

Time was evaporating and we stayed in Kingston for lunch at 'Little Italy' which was not busy but, I think, deserved to be. Penne Arrabiata was a degree beyond a desirable al dente but the sauce was very good. Lunch prices make this centrally located Italian restaurant worth a visit. There are, improbably, some architectural gems in Kingston which I might previously have thought a potential candidate for Betjeman's 'friendly bombs'. These range from Quebec House to the old (1864) Police Station, now in alternative use. Now we were to learn why people are reluctant to use public transport. Kingston station is well presented and maintained but the journey from it was excruciating. The loop services are not fast anyway but our progress through London's dull suburbs seemed for a while to have the alacrity of an Indian hill train. The graffiti fom Barnes inwards is as shocking and depressing as any on the notorious approaches to Paris Gare du Nord. At least we picked up speed for a while but ultimately to no avail. We ground to a halt after Vauxhall, tantalisingly close to our destination. It took about 20 further minutes to reach Waterloo with only the 2 Class 08s in the Railway Children set of the former Eurostar terminal to distract. The guard gave us frequent but futile updates - about 'earlier signalling problems' - and these provided little comfort in a train with neither intercom nor toilets. Trains were moving all around us and we seemed to have been pathed for the least available platform at the terminus. Such was the need for a toilet on arrival that there was no time to berate the staff of either Network Rail or South West Trains. Sometimes piss comes before pissed off. To my considerable surprise the barriers in the toilet were open and the 30p fee waived. I would like to think that was in deference to the desperation of the delayed arrivals but it was more likely due to the fact that another small part of NR's shabby infrastructure, the change machine, was out of order. The return journey presented us with two options; return to Waterloo which clearly would not have recovered from the inept bumblings of Network Rail or, using our still decent knowledge of London's transport options, seek an alternative route to Kingston via Richmond. Unfortunately, we did both. Waterloo, although well provided with 'Customer Service Representatives' was chaotic. Trains were running but no-one knew the exact departure time of any. It defies belief that NR do not simply reset their timetable. It is utterly meaningless to run the 16xx to Shepperton 'one hour and four minutes late'. I was able to determine from a calm but ineffectual manager who had ventured onto the concourse that there had been a major power failure much earlier at Walton-on-Thames. There was no evidence of diversity or contingency and plenty of evidence of a significant engineering failure. If airlines ran like NR they would not last five minutes. We made various connections across a typically overheated Underground to reach Richmond where we could be more confident of identifying a Kingston bound train and completing our journey. This had all taken a lot of time (I felt glad that we had not had to return to Havant by train) and we now needed supper. Pizza Hut is an established comfort zone for me and service was quick. That turned out however to be at the expense of the pizza dough. I felt that they had changed their pepperoni and not for the better but was impressed by the free unlimited salad with a main course. On balance it is a sad reflection on Pizza Hut when the strongest menu item is the tortilla chips from the salad bar. The toilet there was borderline insalubrious with an astonishgly claustrophobic cabin and a flush with the strength of a vegetarian Liberal Democrat handshake. The taps in the hand basins appeared to have been placed rather than plumbed in and rotated freely. I imagine Prince Phillip might have been able to suggest the origins of the plumber.

All this transport related trauma rather detracts from the underlying success of the day. The 'Circle of Animals' exhibit in the Fountain Court of Somerset House was well worth the trip. In truth it is the setting which is brilliantly conceived, for the zodiacal sculptures, whatever significance the oppressed Mr Ai might attribute to them, are precariously mundane with some considerably less striking than others. It is being seen together and with the fountains that makes the whole thing work although, paradoxically, the individual heads most lend themselves to striking photographs. The freedom afforded the photographer by the exhibition host contrasts poignantly with the current (presumed) living arrangements of the artist.

Between the recumbent telephone boxes of surprising Kingston and the animal guests of elegant Somerset House lay one more surprise. 'Urban Fox' at the South Bank is a smile provoking feature of a Waterloo Bridge crossing. As artful as the eponymous creature itself, it deserves a place more permanent than its construction and intent (celebrating the 1951 Festival of Britain) make likely.

As Twickenham's A316 became the dull ribbon of the M3, I silently composed the blog to come as Greg drove. Only two weeks from the longest day and where there should have been a vibrant, light evening, thick cloud seemed to reinforce the failings of the day. The task then was to place those in the context of the greater successes. With a rebuke for Network Rail only half-formed I slept grateful for art and the ability to enjoy it.

Cruel To Be Unkind.

In the evolution of the acerbic, Times columnist A A Gill is homo erectus to Clarkson's neanderthal as evidenced in their respective contributions today. Where Clarkson can be redeemingly self-deprecatory, I doubt that a man whose insecurities are illustrated by the use of his initials in lieu of his given name(s) is often given to such moments of self-examination. At the end of his weekly review of television, Gill lights briefly but pointedly on 'Talking Funny' in which, he reports, 'three American comics sat yakking matily about how comedy happens'. They were, apparently, accompanied by Ricky Gervais and Gill wonders 'who invited Gervais to a party of comedians'. [He was the programmes's producer]. This you might think just but it is, on his record, manifestly unfair. For all that he has more recently and frequently strayed beyond the bounds of comedic decency and into overtly barbed cruelty, 'The Office' and 'Extras' are undeniable masterpieces. They contained early examples of the same tendencies to cruelty but skilfully contained within the finely drawn boundaries of the acceptable.

Clarkson today admits to 'growing up' through the most improbable vehicle of a Porsche 911 or, at least, its latest incarnation. I admire Clarkson's prose though not without some concern that it is likely more crafted for an audience than the product of heartfelt opinions. His work in The Times is brilliantly entertaining but the cruder offering in last week's Sun led me to wonder if the only difference between the readerships might be that one keeps their tattoos under their sleeves. I was thinking of him today not primarily because of my breakfast reading but my later lunchtime experience at Mottisfont. I am grateful to my colleague Julian for suggesting a visit. Romance and reality had rapidly diverged when rain actually arrived. In an urban or transport setting I might have contrived some photography but the beautiful grounds of the National Trust property did not benefit from the poor light. We have to return if only to capture the extraordinary 18th century Mottisfont Plane. Today, the weather and hour combined to drive everyone to the cafe at the same time. Normally we would eschew such a queue but this time we waited to be rewarded with excellent food made with delicious local products. In the queue and at the table I had plenty of time to reflect on the company; couples between morning and evening church services, ramblers taking a day off from annoying landowners, a lot of low-cost all-weather clothing, grandchildren behaving with their grandparents much better than they would with their parents. A lot of those infuriatingly benign grins, wet on men, indicative of too much voluntary work on women and which suggest either hidden secrets or simply empty minds. People with fixed ideas of what they should enjoy but little idea of what they actually do enjoy. There I go; Gill, Clarkson, Gervais all in one and as unattractive as the worst of any of them. It's not really what I believe, just what passes through my mind and ends up in print.

Collingwood and Meriva

The silk of soft summer rain came as a comforting surprise as I scattered a little bird food after my short post-night shift sleep. I was pleased; I had actually been looking forward to the rain. Probably not as much as the gardens and fields of the south, but looking forward. The BBC forecast is notoriously inaccurate, its icons on my home page, a waste of time. The met brief at 4am had seemed to dash any hopes of rain in my area. But, yesterday, after a successful photo-shoot at Collingwood I had invited rain to provide new challenges for the camera, perhaps in b&w.

The open day at HMS Collingwood was a success both photographic and moral; the former as already stated and the latter because I am increasingly reluctant to waste the time between and after nights. It had been a challenge then to go already tired on a humid day to an inevitably crowded venue. It was crowded. Parking was well organised and entry well facilitated with only light handed security. Only the ominous presence of a Police CCTV van jarred slightly as we entered, a reminder of surveillance Britain but perhaps a low-key way of providing the security needed at a military establishment on a public day. I thought it might be being used NPR-style on people so that if the Stubbington chapter of Al Qaeda should turn up, the authorities could act appropriately, perhaps by sealing off the bouncy castle. The accessible parts of the grounds were, for the day, like a funfair or county show. I don't think the attractions revealed much about the everyday life of Collingwood but to wander around with 'a different eye' revealed plenty for the lens. It was about picking subjects, imagining what the results would look like, could look like in b&w and being incredibly if uncharacteristically patient to exclude the people from most shots. I think my set 'HMS Collingwood Open Day' on Flickr is a success.

I haven't had a bath in four years. I should hasten to add that I have occasionally showered in the same period but I just don't have the inclination to lie around in a bath, a terrible waste of time for the creatively tense (neurotic, near-autistic). Yesterday was an easy exception. I was tired, hot and dirty when we crawled back in from nearby Collingwood. I ran the bath, put some sort of bubbly stuff in it and soaked for the Oram equivalent of a very long time. I wrapped myself in a luxurious towel, dabbed and dried and stepped into pyjamas which would stay on until it was again time to prepare for work. By that time I was having serious doubts about the future for Ronan Parke and quietly predicting (really) a Jai McDowall victory. I think the BGT result was fair but, with three singing acts filling the top spots, Simon needs to decide if the show has somehow become X-Factor's Siamese twin.

We have had our new car for over a week now and wonder if we can remain attached for as long as we did with the Vectra. It is nice in many ways but there are too many irksome things. I think we would both like to return to bigger load space. For that, we are looking forward to the Zafira facelift. I am not convinced that opposing doors are anything but a novelty and running lights remain a curiosity in this country. I do not much like the electronic parking brake and I am not much looking forward to calling the AA if one of my tyres encounters anything larger than a drawing pin. That may seem a little disingenuous because I have no intention of changing a wheel but a spare of some kind does mean going home before finding the nearest tyre retailer. The cruise control problem is only intermittent and we have not been able to reproduce it for a couple of days.

Now it remains only to see which I enjoy more; two afternoons on White Watch or a week in Norway. I should cruise through both.

Literacy

I am not the perfect grammarian nor do I always spell correctly even after checking. I struggle with things Stephen Fry would digest in his sleep and frequently resort to a dictionary or question a common usage which has distorted the true meaning of a word or phrase. Blatant illiteracy, however, infuriates me and nowhere more so than on Flickr. Is it not worth taking the time and trouble to title, caption and tag correctly? How is it possible for example to reproduce (or in fact fail to reproduce) a word clearly visible in the photograph itself? If you can see 'Phoenix Buses', why caption 'Pheonix Buses' - more than once. This is not a typo, it is stupidity. Even more frustrating are examples of the phonetic but completely wrong reproduction of words in such a way as to completely alter their meaning. Recently I have seen:

'here here' - [hear hear]
'well-healed' - [well heeled]
'duel-braked' - [dual-braked]
'breaking' - frequently for [braking]

Whatever happened to English language education?

What To Expect Of Norway

I do not know what to expect of Norway in ten days time. We went to Oslo once many years ago and I do not recall being excited but I was puzzled as to why running lights should be necessary on the brightest of summer's days. Now my own car has running lights - how ironic is that? I am not approaching this holiday with a negative attitude; I badly need a rest and a day with Lee Child but, I suspect, alpine and fjordic scenery just doesn't do it for me. It does not seem right to say 'does not float my boat' as we are going on a cruise. We went to Alaska, you might recall, and, largely because of the weather, it was dull, a word I suspect may have been invented in Norway, the land of 'nul points'. I have looked at Flickr and I think I can do better with my own photographs (famous last words). Even when you search 'Flam Railway' you find that people have incomprehensibly focused on the scenery and not the train. Having said that, this is slightly understandable when you contrast the impossibly drab green of Flamabana with the vibrant colours of Swiss mountain railways. Would the Glacier Express be such a success if it looked like a WWII army convoy? The cruise ahead offers enough relaxation with or without stimulation on land. It will be interesting to try P&O and Oceana. There are 3-4 days at sea which, invariably, I enjoy and the stress free experience of departing from and arriving at Southampton. I'll be travelling with an open mind and several SD cards and hoping that the rain is not quite as prolific as in one Flickr member's July photographs.

A Weather Eye

Tiresome and turbulent grey clouds boiled across our southern skies and their steel, sullen silence made a tedious backdrop to potential photographs. It would be a while before my foray to the Solent to see weekend visitor the USS George H W Bush. First, I went to see my Mum. I am still getting used to the new car and wondered why the cruise control is quite so unpredictable. Greg had trouble with it yesterday and the best I can say is that it works most of the time. There must have been a little ripple in time today, a strange sub-psychic current in the early weekend; first my Mum was convinced that it was Saturday, later Greg and later still, I was similarly misled by the ambience in Gosport and Portsmouth. We got our shopping done with little enthusiasm and I was extremely irritated in ASDA to be asked if I had been taking photographs. I was carrying a camera - I carry one almost everywhere - but had not raised so as to even look like taking a photograph. I suppose the powers of observation of the member of staff who summoned a manager were as limited as their probable IQ. The manager was quite civil but it still stung for a while. We took a time-out to see an aunt whose husband (my uncle, oddly enough) is in hospital with hopefully temporary heart problems. Our help today was limited to buying carrots. When we were free to go to Stokes Bay to see the Nimitz Class carrier, the weather was not at all encouraging. It was certainly interesting to see our visitor but shots on the south coast on (summer!) afternoons are inevitably contre-jour. This coupled with the distance of the mooring was hardly conducive to excellent photography. What I did took place either side of excellent food at the Bayside Cabin Cafe. It was a breakfast but eaten so late it barely qualified as lunch. The quality of food was a surprise. The cafe was revelling in the Bush-viewing crowds. Even with the prospect of continuing poor light, I would have liked to get closer but a ferry trip to Portsmouth and subseqent visit to both likely boat departure points (Dockyard and Gunwharf) was a complete waste of time. I was disheartened by the lack of commercial drive which might have seen at least one tour operate after 1530. The Naval Dockyard is strange place to arrive in Portsmouth well away from most of what one might loosely describe as 'the action'. The sailors - male and female - who were streaming away from the USS Truxtun amongst others - were greeted by a few rather desultory American flags and countless flyers exhorting their participation in various nocturnal activities. They seemed at least to have been properly directed to Gunwharf; I hope they enjoy their stay after the rigours of 'Saxon Warrior'.

Mayflower Park and Meriva

Two days apart and two very different visits to Mayflower Park. On Tuesday we saw Queen Mary 2 depart on a beautiful evening. Today, watching the departure of Queen Elizabeth for Amsterdam meant braving a cold wind and sharp showers. Whatever the weather, Mayflower Park has become a favourite and comfortable location, a place for leisure. We reached Southampton today in our new car. I was much more pleased than I had expected when I saw the high spec Meriva in the showroom on delivery but we are still evaluating it in use. Our Vectra was a much loved car and I was sad to see it go. The Meriva has a lot of differences. It amazes me the mean ways in which car manufacturers save money. With this new car only one folding key was provided with the spare being rigid. The new car is very comfortable but reaches and exceeds 30mph too easily. I am reflecting on whether many of its internal curves are superfluous or impractical; they seem to reduce the usefulness of the storage space. I will be very grateful if the local peasants at ASDA can avoid pushing their trolleys into our car. Most of the marks on my faithful Vectra were cause by other people with cars or trolleys.

I am feeling a little bit rattled with my latest book choice, Die Trying (a Jack Reacher novel) by Lee Child. I usually spot re-issues but on this rare occasion I was sucked in by a new cover cynically consistent with those of more recent publications. The title first appeared in 1998. I have almost certainly read it and, although I do not remember the narrative so far, I wonder whether to continue when I have so many books to read.

I am still a bit numb with the tiredness of two early mornings and the new car admin but I am looking forward to a stimulating weekend.

Blue Cobra

An evening of unusual but necessary indulgence was the reward for a hard cycle nearly completed and a precursor to what I expect to be an enjoyable weekend close to home. We went to Blue Cobra, a recently opened Indian restaurant in Pier Street, Lee on Solent. The service was good, the food very good. The menu gave us the opportunity to try some new dishes and we were not disappointed. Poppadums were very fresh and the chutneys different enough to be notable. My Keema Kumbi starter was a well thought out breaded minced lamb and mushroom offering. Goan Chicken might have been more predictable but had a perfect texture and well managed spicing. A free Irish Cream (not necessarily Baileys , I suppose) was, as far as I know my first....and delicious.

We collect our new car tomorrow which is rather exciting. The weekend offers a Southdown Remembered bus event in Portsmouth and the arrival of Nimitz class USS George H W Bush at Spithead. It is too large to enter Portsmouth Harbour. In the meantime I hope to have caught up with MSC Opera now in Southampton after last weeks unplanned stop in Stockholm. It has been pleasant adapting to my maritime surroundings and the whole area presents regular new photographic opportunities.

Having had quite a shock on Facebook today I must now try to get through the night without dreaming of my colleagues bottoms - why can't the people you WANT to undress have similar moments of frivolity?

The Shocking Voice of Barbara Hepworth

The introduction to BBC2's 'The Culture Show' held sufficient promise that I wanted to see all the pieces in the show. A feature on Hepworth at Wakefield included some b&w footage with the artist talking over it in shocking tones of received pronunciation. An interesting sound to emanate from a face not considerably different to that of Tracy Emin. Even more interesting then to see (and hear) Emin herself later in the same programme; a calming and articulate voice emerging from the familiar, barely handsome, features. Another feature on London's much evolved 'ring of steel' shocked too, by revealing security in urban architecture well beyond buildings and in to the detail of planters and seating.

Rather more prosaically, we took my Mum to the newly opened branch of Dunelm Mill at Titchfield. A homeware heaven no doubt but I decided to soothe my shopping allergy in the car with James Patterson while Mum & Greg negotiated the opening day crowds in what is a rather cramped shop. [The space is large but the displays are a bit tightly packed]. We went to complete more paperwork on our new car and will welcome it to the driveway on Thursday of next week. We are very pleased with our choice and the service we have recieved (so far). The evolution of the car industry pleases me less. For many years it has been the practice to launch models, albeit in their different variants, with as little specification as possible. The various levels then gain accessories and upgrades as the model ages. Our own experience shows us the cynical fashion of today. We have chosen the top specification Meriva (SE) but it still lacks several things we would like but can obtain only as extra-cost options. This then I call the Ryanair model of car sales although it is by no means confined to Vauxhall (GM). The customer is sucked into a vortex (good Vauxhall model name I would say) wherein headline or even OTR prices fail to reflect the more probable price.

I was very thrilled when my cousin drew my attention to this evening's (Portsmouth) Evening News which has published in full a recent letter of mine on QA parking charges. This is the text of that letter:

I was disturbed and angered to read the lead story in The News (9 May) on forthcoming increases to parking charges at QA Hospital. Whilst reluctantly accepting that Carillion is acting within the PFI contract, I want to highlight the following cynicism within what they do on the ground. This I hope will add weight to any protest movement as it inevitably gathers support.

The number and style of warning notices around the site - of a type now increasingly common around the country - are not conducive to the well being of patients, their carers or visitors; they are inappropriate to a hospital environment. I can confirm from personal experience that Carillion are far more enthusiastic about (potential) enforcement of penalties than they are about servicing or repairing broken machines which force people to traipse unnecessary distances around a large site in order to comply with payment regulations.

Ticket machines do not give change or accept cards. However, the tariffs are consistently set in 'odd' amounts. This is a carefully calculated strategy to take advantage of the many people who will not have the right change and will be forced to overpay. This is particularly unfair in the A & E area which probably sees mostly unplanned visits by people who are already distracted and distressed. Machines which accept cards should be introduced immediately and/or a simplified tariff structure designed to optimise payment opportunities and not Carillion's undisclosed profits.

Regardless of the above, Carillion should be compelled to reveal their profits, justify them in terms of costs and overheads and, if necessary, adjust charges to fair levels. Their comparisons with other area car parks are irrelevant and unfair as a hospital is a uniquely stressful environment usually visited not by choice but of necessity.

A Day Trip to Hythe

Town Quay in Southampton is a shabby and inadequate disgrace. Its few remaining viable businesses are crowned by the inexplicably named Monsieur Hulot patisserie with its highly incongruous 'Tabac' signs. Is this some sort of homage to a little known lost episode of 'Allo, 'Allo? For all that it is unattractive, there are people there if only to use the Hythe and Red Jet IoW ferries. They are sufficient in numbers to make entirely unacceptable the 'permanent' closure of its toilets. Visitors and passengers are directed to the Red Jet ticket office where, today, only the ladies was working. I was almost put off my desire to travel on the Hythe Ferry if not by the foregoing then certainly when I saw the ludicrous ticketing arrangements. Two ticket machines take coins only whilst metres away a silently smirking Red Jet machine reminds its retarded cousins that, in the 21st century it is de rigeur to accept notes and cards also. At least the operator recognises that few people carry so much change that they probably would not be able to walk. A man, a very pleasant man it must be said, is on hand to exchange bags of change for notes. The change is inserted into the ticketing dinosaurs and, periodically, removed to be bagged up for the next lot of already weary travellers. It does get better.

There is a fine line between delapidation and antique charm. It is perhaps difficult both to define and to discern but I think my experiences today serve to illustrate the difference. The public face of Town Quay, a relatively modern structure is shameful. The much older Hythe Pier, ferry and railway are entitled to charm through decrepitude. The ferry is busy and the railway, open since 1881, fascinating. Photographs are waiting to be taken and the location is an obvious alternative to Calshot  to view cruise ships. The ferry ride itself affords further opportunities. We confined our movements to an area close to the pier and I can not say that that part of Hythe is especially charming as all the recent decades seem to have impinged upon it. Curiously, the number of banks indicates that the High Street names have not abandoned it as they have so many small towns. The Golden Stir Fry Chinese Takeaway was remarkable in that only the signs outside suggested that it was anything other than a house.

As I took a break from Pier Railway photography and turned my attention to the buses, I noticed that they seemed to be hindered by a growing traffic jam. I went to investigate and found a crowd observing an idiotically parked BMW blocking a bus and hence all the other traffic in both directions. The full illustrated story appears on Facebook. Here I shall just say that a tattoed moron wearing a Confederate cap emerged eventually from a pizza takeaway and showed no shame even when confronted (not, I should add, by me). Nor was he confronted by the police who had chosen to stay well away as, indeed, they do from all except the most dire situations. What can one do about anti-social behaviour? Traffic had been brought to a halt for 10-15 minutes so that one oaf and his bitch (who loooked as though she had seen plenty of pizzas in her time) could pick up their pre-shagging snack without having to struggle to and from the legitimate parking spaces 4 metres away on the other side of the road.

H&SE Notice

In view of the impending Rapture on 21 May 2011 due to be followed by the end of the world on 21 October, the Health & Safety Executive has carried out a full risk assessment and offers the following advice to those ascending to heaven. Although the event may not be as busy as originally predicted as large numbers are now expected to be left behind to be eternally judged, participants should consider the following precautions. Items of safety clothing should be worn and may include, as a minimum, hard hat, steel capped shoes, hi-vis jacket, ear protectors and eye goggles. Ascendees should follow only the marked route. In the event of rain, please mind your step as conditions underfoot may be slippery. Please consider staggering your ascent as the first 2-3 hours are expected to be particularly popular. The H&SE has been advised that places at God's right hand are no longer available. A spokesperson for the organiser said 'We ask that particpants take all reasonable precautions; it would be a great shame if anyone actually died in the pursuit of eternal life'.


Separate advice will be issued to those remaining behind to be eternally judged and a further notice will be issued for the end of the world which is expected to pose exceptional hazards to everyday life.

Inn Luck

Our experience at Crown Carveries' Inn By The Sea (Lee on Solent) on Saturday, was many steps removed from our last experience at the broadly comparable Toby Carvery. You know me as an opponent of rip-off and ardent proponent of value and fairness but, I must say, I don't know how they manage the prices they offer at Inn By The Sea. We paid £3.69 a head and £1.50 per person for Ultimate Upgrade which, frankly, proved to be unnecessary. We had a huge pile of good quality, fresh food served quite quickly. It was very good and, if you can find a space in the car park, you  should go.

The Happiness of Others

I had been looking forward for a long while to the wedding of James and Nina, the wedding of the year for them. The weather smiled upon the couple and their guests and, in spite of reports of problems (with organisation) right up to the day, the day went very well with much evidence of fantastic organisation by the couple and their families and supporters. In fact, it was a lesson in thoughtfulness and attention to detail; a day planned as much for those invited as for James and Nina themselves. The church service was pleasant and very slightly informal with room for humour even though the photography police were on patrol in the church itself.

The reception venue, Hill Place at Swanmore is fabulous and the arrangements there were inch and minute perfect. The catering was of a very high standard in both food and service. The seating plan and table appointments were meticulously conceived and the attention to detail reflected in the lavishly filled goody-bags for the children. A discreet three piece band made a welcome change from blaring amplified music and a Spacehopper revival amused the children before they reached their meals.

With the evening guests due to arrive to demolish the hog roast, it was time for us to leave in chill evening air which would probably pass unnoticed by a couple with evident warmth for each other. May they have many happy years together.

Bouquets and Brickbats

I hope that the criticisms I level freely in a number of areas are morally balanced by compliments delivered where they are deserved. The two days since the thundery instability of Saturday have brought plenty of opportunities for both. After an uncertain start, the cloud over Dorset peeled away to offer beautiful weather  for the third day of the Swanage Railway Diesel Gala. Breakfast at the Marriott was excellent combining good quality ingredients with fresh preparation. The Sandford Road between Poole and Wareham may be the most rhododendron lined in the country. They are not fully out yet (as in Sarisbury Green) but it was very pleasant. There is so much to see in Bournemouth, Poole and environs, I am sure we shall be back soon. We went first to Norden where 'Western Campaigner' set the scene for an excellent day divided between the respective ends of the line. The organisation of the Diesel Gala was excellent, its choreography excellent. The amount of effort which had gone into arranging resident and guest locomotives and their multitude of movements and pairings was admirable. I felt that the Purbeck Mineral and Mining Museum also at Norden was, although still under development, a fascinating bonus.

Later in the day we were back in Bournemouth to collect a new Nikon lens for Greg. While he was in the shop, I finally found the motivation to capture some of the varied buses in busy Gervis Place. Then we went to eat in the Square at the poor Obscura restaurant. As I chewed the Obscura fare I reflected that the only possible advantage of this establishment is its prime people watching location. The food was poor quality, overpriced and dully prepared and served. To my astonishment they required payment up front, blaming escapees from their many outside tables. As one does not normally order a dessert at the outset of a meal, that would mean a separate payment or no dessert. I chose the latter to get away from eastern European wait staff, some of whom had not mastered even the phonetics of the menu and were unlikely to attempt conversational English. I thoroughly recommend not going there. On the way home, I remembered that oil prices went down this last week; I did not see any price reaction at forecourts. There never seems to be such tardiness with increases.

Today was a day for taking Mum out primarily to Gunwharf. We received outstanding attention and service in the shops we visited and Mum got both the shoes and handbag she wanted. That visit was rounded off nicely by another visit to Giraffe where service and food remained very good. I was pleased to be able to comment to that effect to the regional manager who was visiting. No such plaudits are deserved by Carillion, the avaricious and inept providers of parking services at QA hospital. I have had to criticise them before and today's news in the local paper prompted a letter to the editor (by e-mail) and to the Portsmouth North MP, Penny Mordaunt. Charges are due to go up again and, whilst this is entirely within the provisions of the unfortunate PFI contract, several criticisms can be levelled against a firm which is more interested in money than patients (and their attendants). Warning notices of the kind which now proliferate around the UK are inappropriate in the stress rich environment of a hospital. Patients and visitors have plenty to preoccupy them without enforcement threats made with a vigour not matched by the attention paid to broken or faulty ticket machines. Working or not, the ticket machines neither give change nor accept cards. The tariffs present and proposed are in odd amounts; this is a deliberate and calculated ploy to ensure that the many hassled parkers who do not have the right money will overpay, thus bolstering Carillion's profits further. I am not against hospital car park charging as such. In many locations it has become necessary to deter immoral commuter behaviour. It is regrettable that PFI deprives the QA of a potentially useful income stream where non-PFI hospitals benefit. Carillion however must be made to introduce change giving and card accepting machines and to improve their reliability. They should also be persuaded to introduce a simplified tariff of whole number sums to reduce the need for overpayments and hopefully be shamed into retracting the June increases. This is an era of scam. it should be challenged wherever it arises.

A Wet Weekend

Considering the amount of rain we had, however welcome, the dry intervals were quite well placed but the weather still cast doubt over pressing ahead with our visit to the Swanage Railway Diesel Gala tomorrow. For today we were content to circulate in Bournemouth. Greg ordered a Nikon lens which we shall collect tomorrow. Amazingly I got only one bus photograph; the place, with its variety, deserves a concerted effort especially in Gervis Place. For various reasons we ate pretty late, effectively combining lunch with dinner (that's dinner and tea for the otherwise perfect Dave). We sat in Hot Rocks through rain - the only reason we had ordered desserts [cough] - and returned to the hotel in a break which preceded a substantial thunderstorm.

I had been rather tense before reaching Bournemouth after long and fruitless conversations with the Highways Agency and Police after yet another lengthy road closure. The short version of the debate is that I think they faff about with no regard for the majority and they defend their right to go over every supposed 'crime scene' with a fine tooth comb which is in fact about the level of technology they use. You only need to look at the recent and now notorious M1 closure in north London to appreciate the sheer lethargy of the authorities and their considerable capacity for overkill.

At Bournemouth Airport, I was not much happier as I assessed their latest parking restrictions and charges. You would not believe that this is a commercial organisation faced with dwindling passenger numbers and fickle airlines. It has become commonplace for regional airports to charge pick-up and drop-off fees which is blatant exploitation of their users. Bournemouth has tried to be cleverer but is equally mean. With prodigious use of coning and the introduction of a manually operated barrier which, apparently, requires two staff - a cost issue in itself I would imagine - they prohibit free pick-up or drop-off and, by banning pedestrian access over a stretch of airport approach make it impossible anywhere in the reasonable vicinity of their much vaunted and over-hyped terminal. Instead all cars must enter the car park for a minimum charge of £2.50 which is, in fact, £4 if you use a credit card. I am presently composing a suitably reproaching e-mail to their marketing and managing directors. The departure terminal I might remind you (I have previously blogged) is, landside at least, simply the old terminal inside a largely cosmetic new exterior.

People undoubtedly think I moan a lot and I shall probably, through self-induced stress, bring my crusading life to a premature close - accompanied no doubt by rounds of grateful applause - but the fact is people do not complain enough. Too many others get away with too many things. Tolerance is a wonderful thing but in the face of ineptitude, lethargy, dishonesty or a number of other negative characteristics it is simply not appropriate. Be prepared to challenge authority, to make accountability real.

Copyright, Common Sense and Nonsense

Once again I have come across a draconian and unjustified policy on photography. I hoped to visit Roche Court (near Salisbury) to view and, of course, photograph the sculpture. I might still visit but the pleasure will be very much diminished by not being able to photograph. There is a clear 'no photography' policy and this was confirmed in a slightly testy phone call to the New Art Centre this morning. The blame seemes to lie equally between site operators and the artists and to some extent with photographs being used for improper commercial purposes. The key fact though is this; to take a photograph of an object in entirely another medium is a record and a creation of a new and unique image with its own copyright. It does not in any sense infringe the copyright of the original artist and should not be construed as doing so. If I were to attempt to recreate, say, a sculpture or a painting then there would be an issue but my documentary image of a piece of art, especially when properly annotated, does not purport to be anything other than that. There is so much to photograph in the world, I should perhaps be less concerned but injustice and illogic always burn and set afire the soul. The supposed concerns of the artists are incomprehensible. They should welcome publicity but seem more concerned about the revenues from postcards and overpriced books. Photographs for private use including appropriate posting on social networks should not be prohibited. On this issue gallery owners and artists together are wrong and mean-minded.

Two Days in April

As we left the centre of London, a little drizzle fell and, closer to Heathrow, some drizzle became rain but lacked energy. Throughout the day which followed, we would see none. The countryside is lush in spite of the lack of recent rain and we saw plenty of it in our two days of what I shall, slightly inaccurately, call perambulations. We went to Southampton twice; yesterday to see the impressive MSC Orchestra and, today, to see, rather more distantly, Vision of the Seas. This early in the season there were in fact five cruise ships due in part to the unexplained delay to Black Watch. Also present were Ventura, Saga Pearl II and Celebrity Eclipse as well as Vision of the Seas. It makes me happy to record the Southampton of today. Photography for today is photography for tomorrow also. Today, we went to Reading. I do not recall the last time I was there and I think I have only ever been by train before today. It might have been better by train; one of the unfortunate facts of our age is that revenue protection means that most stations are barriered and platform tickets appear to be a thing of the past. The one disappointment of the visit was that I could not access the station platforms. I enjoyed the buses though and the rest of Reading was attractive. The shops and restaurants were very good. When you have been alive for nearly 55 years and  have eaten a lot of meals, novelty or variety is always welcome. We found that today in Jaswa the baked samosa company. I expect this idea to spread into a chain. The food was very good and reasonably priced.

In London yesterday evening we went to see 'Hurly Burly' at The Garrick Theatre. I hadn't known what to expect as we went specifically to see singer Spencer Day. Perhaps I should have had a better idea of burlesque and, predictably, an hour and a half of women undressing was of limited interest to me although it is difficult to criticise a show which included a mash-up of 'Looks, Looks, Looks' by the inimitable Sparks. Spencer was a bit less prominent on stage than I would have liked and than he deserved. He has a good voice and we were very fortunate to meet him afterwards. He is highly engaging and energetic and I liked him very much. There was energy to spare in London on the night before the wedding and I must admit it was a slight buzz to be there. I enjoyed seeing the scene being set although I had no desire to see the event. Traffic was pretty awful even when we left well after 10pm. Traffic management schemes must have been introduced by those with some sort of vendetta against motorists and the increasingly encroaching cycle schemes are a madness disproportionately favouring those stupid enough to cycle in the capital. The blue paint of the cycle routes is an abomination and the signs proclaiming the forthcoming completion of CS8, a provocation. The only mollification I experienced - and I might have imagined this - was that I think some bus lanes formerly 24hrs are now 7am-7pm.

We shall return to London, Reading and, of course, Southampton.

An End To Dull And Uncertain Days

Easter is behind us, the Royal Wedding and Bank Holiday ahead. This later weekend will at least not bring us the irrational imposition of minority religious beliefs on our shopping habits. There was no logic to the enforced closures of Sunday; the garden centre was closed - presumably compost is considered blasphemous or something - but Kwik Fit was open. On Monday we saw the inevitable reaction. I expect many people had emptied their freezers during the single day supermarket closure and they certainly made up for it as soon as they could. On Tuesday it was time again to return the daily contents of inappropriately driven 4x4s to their places of education and the roads suffered. I think this is particularly evident in our area where the infrastructure is poor and, depending on which Liberal Democrat or Conservative local government campaigner you believe, more houses are planned. We are thinking of replacing our car (our one car) but initial fact-finding was rather alarming as the prices of even used cars are high.

My recent life at work has been rather unsettled but I am distracting myself by looking forward to going to Norway. I passed 50,000 views on Flickr which is gratifying even if the number of views of some pictures absolutely baffles me. I was flattered to be asked for the use of one of my bus photos in 'Passenger Transport' magazine. We are going to London tomorrow for a show and will leave before the wedding brings the city to a halt. I expect however to see numerous police with and unnatural preoccupation with inspection covers.

Cheating

I do not know if an octopus, possessed of eight arms, could work faster but I, with the standard two, am going to have to cheat and bandbox my latest blog entries. I can not back-up and process my photographs with attendant notes and write everything I would like to write when it is fresh in my mind. Nothing seemed very fresh yesterday when a tired mind and tired body were still recovering from night shifts. For that reason, we got going well after the middle of the day and drove to Gosport for the ferry. Although the offer was there, I had to resist the temptation to go to Jessops, Hedge End and risk going further than Saturday's speculative visit to Currys to look at cameras. Tempted by the Panasonic FZ-100 and, unexpectedly, by the Fujifilm HS10, I found that I had too much information to digest and new criteria to consider. I could suddenly see some advantages to using AA batteries. Furthermore, we are about to be bombarded by yet more new products from several manufacturers. The only thing I can say with certainty is that I have no use for a 3D camera.
So, back in Gosport or, by now, in Portsmouth after the ferry ride, food was a priority - as I rarely have my lunch at 2pm - and a vague idea of a boat trip was forming. It was our third visit to Giraffe, Gunwharf Quays and I commend both food and service. It did add to the occasion sitting outside on a wonderful, blessed afternoon. On a previous visit to Gunwharf we had been disappointed that boat trips finished early. yesterday, in the Dockyard, we discovered one leaving at 4pm which allowed just enough time for a quick dabble in the fascinating surroundings before boarding. The tour then provided exactly what I wanted with close approaches to both Naval Base and Continental Ferry Port. There were a lot of naval vessels moored but it is a sad reflection on the state of our armed services that the majority were decommissioned or otherwise idle. It is astonishing that all three (current) Type 45 Daring Class ships were in - they are Daring, Dauntless and Diamond. It is rumoured that we can not afford to run them. What must be the morale of their crews and commanders? I would not much mind if the government of the day decided that we would reduce our armed services to the levels necessary only for the immediate defence of the United Kingdom. Instead, successive haphazard and incoherent defence reviews commit those services to more and more often far-flung activity with ever fewer resources. There is no obvious long-term plan beyond ostensible cost-savings.

When we have commitments in London we frequently stay one night before or after and are fortunate to be able to do so. Today then our destination was our favoured Heathrow Renaissance - close enough to London for most purposes - and we did not intend to waste the journey. Our first stop after a late breakfast was the RHS Garden at Wisley where the tulips were fantastic.

The car parks, although close to over-subscribed, receive little attention at Wisley so random parking leads to poor use of the space available. We went on for only my second visit (I think) to Brooklands. Much has changed in the area in the 6-7 years since my last visit and Mercedes-Benz World was evidently providing pleasure to many. The Brooklands Museum itself is a bit of mixed bag and I can only be honest in my review. Money has been spent on facilities and the contents of the shop but the aircraft displays (more than the vehicles) are close to being preserved but largely unrestored junk. There is, to be fair, a similar experience at many museums across the transport spectrum. We bought a Couple membership to show support but the fact that the Concorde (DG) attraction is £4 (£3 for members) more is inexplicable. I must say though I got a lot of enjoyment out of the exhibits. At both Wisley and Brooklands I had to contend with the insouciant and the medicated and, this being the Easter holiday, their lovely children/grandchildren. I turned it into a bit of a challenge; it is quite a skill to exclude completely from ones photographs the people at a busy venue. I have done it with patience (possibly a misrepresentation of one of my smaller virtues) and not Photoshop. As the results arrive on Facebook and Flickr, I hope you enjoy them.

A Preview of Easter

With a full week to go to the first of consecutive four day weekends, a manic mass of humanity thronged Tesco and, later, Sainsburys. I understand why they were shopping so fervently. In all the days ahead right up to Bank Holiday Monday, the shops are closing only on Easter Sunday - in a ridiculous sop to a minority superstition - and so anyone who has not stocked up adequately with Pringles or Pampers could so easily starve to death or end up with the Social Services round. Let me sketch a typical Tesco car park scene to explain my irritation bordering on ire. We arrived when it was already busy and selected an outside space whilsit almost everyone else fought over the already over-subscribed covered spaces. A Peugot 206 or something similar was in a space with spaces either side. We could not go in the nearer of these because the (grand)mother was taking ten minutes with the door wide open fastening grandchild into childseat. Mummy/daughter was in the car but had left her trolley in the other space, an act of banal selfishness which she seemed to think was perfectly natural. I think she was preparing for verbal combat when I passed a comment prior to taking the offending trolley back to the pen. It took me one minute and, with her mother still faffing around on the other side, I think she might have had time to do that. I did not engage her further. One can not reason with the unreasonable.

I am dismayed and puzzled that a decision has been made to revisit the plan to abolish cheques from 2018. That is seven years time, not tomorrow. The remaining two people who want to use cheques will both be dead by then. There is nothing to review, this is a bullet which should be bitten whilst progress is made with EFT and contactless cards.

I am also dismayed and puzzled by the antipathy and suspicion directed to photographers on both sides of the Atlantic and probably elsewhere. So, let's get a few things straight. There is nothing inherently wrong or suspicious about taking photographs of buildings, buses, aircraft, cats, street art or anything. One of the things I have learned from posting to Flickr is that it is depressingly difficult to take anything original. In fact for almost any given subject you can name there are invariably thousands of pictures already on Flickr and in hundreds of other places on the internet. Whatever the perceptions of transport enthusiasts, architecture fans or anyone with unfamiliar hobbies, the fact is that there is limitless information about anything and everything and pictures of those same things in the electronic world we all inhabit.

I shall probably take some photographs on these three weekends and in between whilst simultaneously avoiding the 18m cars expected to be on the roads. I don't know what those photographs will be but I doubt I shall be undertaking any futile journeys to overcrowded destinations reached late and left early. However, I hope you all enjoy your leisure in your own ways.

Back Home

It is perhaps just as well to leave some things undone so that there is always a reason to return. In this case, I think, it will be April 2012. We have not left from San Diego before albeit for LAX and it did not hurt less than leaving from Palm Springs. For all that is frustrating and annoying about America, a nation that is more afraid of dairy products than it is of terrorists, there is so much that is good, especially in California and we love it. The morning weather in San Diego matched my mood, dull and a little cool. There was brightness by the time we reached Long Beach on an easy drive and we had lunch at the airport there. I would have liked to stay longer as there is a lot to see. Alamo tried to rip us off for gas but I robustly defended our position and got the bill halved even though we did not have the pre-paid option. They even tried to tell me the vehicle had a 16-17 gallon tank; I got out the handbook, rarely present in a rental car, and proved otherwise. If randomness is the secret of great security then LAX was very secure today. The security lines were very badly managed and organised. I kept uncharacteristically quiet. Paul Daniels and Debbie McGee were in the lounge. Both looked very well. I had a little chat with Debbie. She was absolutely charming. Television does not flatter her as she looked absolutely lovely in real life. Strangely, they vanished as they did not pass us to board the earlier flight. I think they probably went through the first class lounge or maybe it was just an illusion. Later, Greg recognised Jensen Ackles boarding our flight. I would not have known him from Adam. I was extremely annoyed that he got pre-pre boarding in a ridiculous display of sycophancy by BA. Actors (and sportsmen) may well be near the top of the salary chain but they are certainly not at the top of the food chain. At Heathrow, he had to wait for the transit like everyone else but, again, he had a greeter cum minder.

Without assistance from BA other than an early arrival, we sped through Heathrow until we went for the Hotel Hoppa. I would like to say that the 30 minute frequency (we waited 25 mins) is hopelessly inadequate but I must admit the demand was not really there. In England, the weather was much nicer than that we left behind in Los Angeles. We were ahead of the Friday traffic and soon returned to innocuous post and a clean house. My FB problem seemed to be resolved and I set about familiar tasks. Next stop, Norway.

Must Fly, But First.....

A well filled vacation, filled further by processing photographs and writing a diary now 36 years old, risks leaving insufficient time for everything I like to do. Until this moment, it was my blog, source variously of amusement and irritation to a largely hidden audience. I genuinely hope it contains some interesting narrative and observations. Many of my friends and colleagues are well travelled but we all see things differently. For 33 years I have been with Greg and it was our anniversary Wednesday. He moved me to tears by buying me a beautiful card with an unexpected message. Even after all this time it is difficult to understand why someone would love me when I do not particularly love myself. We all celebrate in different ways. We went to the Padres game at PETCO Park and, although we were nominally supporting the home team from the slightly uncomfortable position of the largely visitor-filled seats, we were most thrilled by seeing two Giants players, Buster Posey the catcher and remarkable pitcher Tim Lincecum. I have to congratulate not myself but my incredibly capable compact camera (TZ-6) on producing photographs I am very happy with.  Yesterday's 3-1 win over the Giants must have seemed a long way away when the visitors jumped out to a 3-0 lead in the first inning and later went on to win 8-4. When we arrived for the game, some spotty rain fell as it had fallen in the morning as we did a few relatively local things before a  break in the hotel room. The most important of these was to visit the Cancer Survivors Park with, of course, the Salmones sculpture but a different setting and different Bartels benches and tiles.

When you hear 'he has a low spice tolerance' in an Indian restaurant you do wonder if you should suggest that 'he' steps across the road to Hooters where he might find something more to his liking. We were in Royal India on Tuesday, where the food was good but overpriced and from a menu much shorter than would be normal in England. There were only four starters. It was the end of a busy day, the first half of which had been spent at SeaWorld. I was  tempted to turn around when we discovered it was Spring Break and there were all sorts of hideous children there but we had already paid the extraordinary $12 parking charge. Crowds disperse fairly effectively in the large site especially when a show is on so the rest of the time was not bad. I remembered the delightful Penguin Encounter from our previous visit and it was a key reason for going back but, on this occasion, it was the beluga whales in Wild Arctic which moved me most. Their passivity and elegance in the water was magical. It seemed to me that the dolphins' training is designed to work mostly for those who have paid for encounters or gone into a show as it was difficult to photograph them casually. Animal Encounters however was a pleasant last surprise as we met a legless lizard and a sloth. Overall it was a great experience but, predictably, transport subjects were not far from my mind. Greg rested in the hotel while I went for an afternoon meander. I worked out the ticket machine for the trolley and bought a day pass, good value for even my relatively local perambulations. It took some while to understand that Event Specials were running in addition to regular Orange Line services. I thoroughly enjoyed myself at Santa Fe Depot (Amtrak San Diego) and idly wondered what Santa Fe's station is called. There was no sign of any concern at my photographic endeavours but that changed later at Transit Center. The off-duty home of the trolleys (trams) is in an area made much busier Tuesday by the crowds arriving for the Padres' home opener against the Giants. Photography is actually difficult although there is plenty to see and I was using my camera openly but without trespassing beyond public areas. I was stopped by TSA officers for a bit of chat and, uncharacteristically but instinctively, I decided to remain relaxed and pleasant. They were very civil but very thorough and the psychology of the encounter was interesting. There were two key officers, one man, one woman, not exactly a 'good cop, bad cop' scenario but very defusing. However, there were three others nearby but within striking distance as it were - I think they could have coped with any eventuality. To give them their due they are clearly, and to my relief, well briefed on the latest determination that there are no general federal statutes prohibiting photography in public places. In spite of the existence of several excellent and prominent magazines in the US, interest in transport(ation) is not widely understood there. Still, my Flickr photostream today was well balanced with sculpture, architecture, animals, birds and trees. Leaving the area calmly, I walked back to the Marriott, savouring the Convention Center architecture and afternoon sun.

I don't think I have put on any weight but I have gained a few gigabytes and might take a while to catch up. As at the end of most holidays, I am happy and grateful but also ready to go back and be in the UK for a while; a short while as it happens as we shall soon be in Norway.

Doing The Docent Thing

It was only on my last trip to America that I learned the word 'docent'. Its meaning had become apparent from the context in which it arose - as we were being guided around the Palm Springs Art Museum and I assumed that a Latin word had been purloined by a nation anxious to add some gravitas to a potentially modest task. This turned out to be both judgemental and inaccurate. The word and its variants are widely used in Europe to describe various academic posts as well as being used for a museum or gallery guide. Those we have come across, the latest today, are people who do a job wonderfully well with knowledge and enthusiasm. Furthermore, such roles are often filled by elderly, retired but active people whose state of mind and outlook is an example to us all. We arrived today at the Orange Empire Railway Museum which is a jewel amongst museums and yet poorly signposted and not really on the California tourist trail. It had not featured in my plans for our transit from Palm Springs to San Diego; Greg had noticed it on a map. Our first stop, which I had been looking forward to, was a bit of a let down. The March Field Museum is closed Mondays. I got a few photographs but my frustration was doubled by the fact that I needed a bathroom. Had that not been the case, I might have spared Greg another airfield but Perris Valley Airport seemed a destination likely to fulfil our needs for both relief and refreshment. It was so much more than that. It is skydiving centre of extraordinary size with dozens, possibly hundreds of partcipants. Four aircraft were engaged in frenetic activity using both ends of the runway. They were three Twin Otters and a Skyvan. Across the runway a DC9 also converted for skydiving is currently out of use. The groups present included the Canadian Army and representatives of Strathclyde and Southampton Universities. I could have watched for hours. Opposite the airfield entrance the Pomeroy (US Concrete) plant has a preserved caboose which sits on a plinth only a short distance (in a straight line at least) from our railway museum destination.

When no trains or trolleys are running, admission is free. I would gladly have paid. The man who showed us around was utterly engaging and we entered several otherwise locked sheds. Regrettably this facility has, like preserved railways in Britain, suffered from theft, in particular of copper. I was close to heat exhaustion but carried on with further exploration and photography after our tour. To cover the entire site and photograph properly would take probably more than one day and  now time was slipping past. I do not recall previously using a Coco's. Lunch in their Sun City branch was very good. Later, Greg needed a bathroom otherwise he might have escaped our Montgomery Field stop. Photographs there included two San Diego Fire Department helicopters. I was chagrinned to find out on processing that I had slightly cropped one rotor. I might be learning but I am still making mistakes especially when hot and tired. There is huge fire station nearby but I was completely out of energy.

We cruised down into San Diego via its landscaped freeways and reached Harbor Drive for the Marriott Marquis. The elevator had television. In worlds away from southern California, opposing forces traded blows in Libya which in turns pales in contrast to the conflict in Ivory Coast. In Japan the slow recovery continues from near nuclear disaster born of very real natural catastrophe but on my elevator television the Weather Channel was able to confirm that it was raining in Birmingham, Alabama. In the North Tower meeting rooms the penultimate day's proceedings drew to a close for delegates to NAHAD, the Association for Hose and Accessories Distribution. Ladies and Gentlemen, in a world torn by strife and tormented by hunger I give you the comfort of banality.

Problem; Solution

The internet was back - have you tried turning it off and back on again? The cloud of yesterday was gone and the temperature rose but remained pleasant. A Chinese Restaurant had eluded me yesterday. Well, not actually eluded; it is just that there were too many cars parked in front. A Sunday morning would be a good time to return. It nearly eluded me again on a trip for which I left Greg resting at the resort. I could not remember exactly where it was and drove as far as Bob Hope before turning back. I knew it was not just outside Phoenix and with the price of gas....Anyway, it was right there in Cathedral City all the time and I allowed one car into the photograph. I boxed rather clumsily back to the airport and noted that a new control tower is under construction. I wanted to be on the north side and worked my way round with several stops for the different sections of apron (ramp). It was easier than last time with the sun a little better placed but it was not straightforward. A  crowded ramp does not lend itself to aircraft portraiture and the comings and goings of the rich but not necessarily famous were myriad. I even saw two poodles headed for one plane but I imagine it was their owner who had hired it unless they were Lotto winners in their own right. The Loft, 'open for breakfast and lunch' was, well, closed. So, almost by chance, I ended up at the Palm Springs Air Museum for perhaps my third visit. And, as it turned out, the most enjoyable.

Problem; what is one to do when one has paid for a helicopter ride but no-one else turns up to make the flight (minimum 4) viable? Solution; hire a family. I had cooled my heels taking photographs which I enjoyed very much because they had a delightful display of carrier airplanes outside and some magnificent classic cars inside interspersed with the aircraft exhibits. I used the bathroom twice and had lunch, a Middle East sandwich, not named as you might imagine after Israel, but a delightful combo of grilled chicken, houmous and peppers on pitta. I learned something today - the meaning of 'flak', now in common usage but once an abbreviation for 'Fliegerabwehrkanone', an anti-aircraft gun. Still no companions for the ride so it was time to innovate. I did not want to miss my flight as I love helicopters and I did not much want a refund. I picked on a family group, father and two sons and offered them the trip. They only needed to realise that I was English to cope with this offer out of left field and off we went for our ten minute circuit of Palm Springs with a slight tinge of Cathedral City. Why is it that, although I have a perfectly common fear of (open) heights, I have absolutely no concerns about flying even when, as in a Jet Ranger, you can see straight past your feet? I was relieved to get reasonable results from my aerial shots. I had been very disappointed with those I took from our flight to Rome but that was from about 35,000' and, I imagine, somewhat beyond the abilities of my camera. Every mistake made with the camera is a lesson learned and I think I am getting better.

An afternoon nap barely refreshed me but I was ready for our evening meal at The Falls, an excellent restaurant in Palm Canyon Drive. My filet was superb and Greg savoured his rib-eye after we had had starters of Cajun Shrimp and Almond Brie respectively. It is an expensive restaurant but I think I could call it value for money. The restaurants of Palm Springs were thriving this Sunday night. We'll be seeing them again in 2012 but for now we are hours away from three days in San Diego.