February 2012

13th

I discovered one of the most culturally important documentaries I have ever seen today.

 

It is called: REEL BAD ARABS – How Hollywood vilifies a people. It relates to how the Arab race is fictionalized and characterized in popular western media and movies going back decades. It is based on Dr Jack G Shaheen (Professor Emeritus, Southern Illinois University) book of the same name and is eloquently narrated by Dr Shaheen throughout.

 

It makes so many interesting and correct points about how the comfort of prejudice can hold you captive to an idea that is implanted into our brains from youth. No matter what colour we are, we are all brothers and should rejoice in that fact. Far from dividing the world up by the flags that fly within its territories, in essence we are all global citizens. A family. No matter that we may have different cultures or customs, as long as we show love to one another.

 

Violence breed Violence. Love breeds Love. People will have to choose which they prefer, I prefer the latter. And only people with an interest in arms or the enslavement or manipulation of their fellow human beings would disagree.

 

‘War may sometimes be a necessary evil. But no matter how necessary, it

is always an evil, never a good. We will not learn how to live together in

peace by killing each other’s children’

Jimmy Carter, Nobel Lecture, Dec.10, 2002

 

‘If you think of humanity as one large body, then war is like suicide, or at best, self mutilation’

Jerome P. Crabb, War Quotes and Quibbles

 

‘I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its stupidity’

Dwight D. Eisenhower, Speech, Jan.10, 1946

 

‘There was never a good war, or a bad peace’

Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanac

 

‘War is the trade of kings’

John Dryden, King Arthur

 

‘War makes rattling good history; but peace makes poor reading’

Thomas Hardy, The Dynasts

 

‘I think a curse should rest on me – because I love this war. I know it’s smashing and shattering the lives of thousands every moment – and yet – I can’t help it – I enjoy every second of it’

Winston Churchill, Letter to a friend, 1916

 

‘When the rich wage war, it is the poor who die’

Jean-Paul Sartre, The Devil and the Good Lord

  

One of my earliest memories of how Arabs were portrayed as this bloodthirsty, subhuman and inhumane race of people was when I saw 'Back To The Future' at the cinema. The filmmakers needed a baddie they could comfortably sell to the west, and even though the story is about time-travel (and is one of my all time favourites by the way) in a fancy sports car, coupled with love interest, bullies, and mad-hair doctors. The compulsory terrible Arabs are juxtaposed into the beginning and end of the movie. Even when I was a kid, I always found it funny and so stereotypical that the director should choose to not only cast Arabs as the bad guys but also have them in full headgear that looked like a tea towel!

 

Not such a great disguise if you’re trying to blend in. But that’s just the thing and as the documentary highlights. Not only are most Arabs portrayed as murderous villains with no discernable cause apart from the indiscriminate slaughter of innocent people – they are also, how shall we put this - just all a bit incompetent and thick.

 

The documentary lasts for 50 minutes but I can guarantee is definitely time worth spending with.

 

Thought provoking, enlightening and eye opening. It will make you question how you view the world and any prejudices you may have, and where in fact those prejudices originate from. The history of the world is built on sand; they say it’s written by the victors and its true. I would urge you to research where and why all the badness in our past and future comes from. Sometimes it’s troubling and hard to confront and easier to just go believing what we have always believed. I know personally over the years and also in recent times I have had to change my views on certain matters, it may have seemed difficult at the time but if you are a lover of truth, then the change will be more than worth the effort.

12th

There was a very sad news item reported today, that the singer Whitney Houston has died aged just 48.

The reports are still sketchy with some news outlets saying she was found dead in her bath, possibly having been drowned. I'm sure over the coming weeks we will receive within our 'reliable' media, stories explaining different theories that all seem to confirm the official nature of her demise, but as in all these cases, the actual reality of why and how she died will be covered up in a smokescreen of innuendo.

Hearing that Whitney had died is sad for me though as she through her beauty and music brought me much joy as I was growing up. She immediately struck me as one of the most attractive ladies I had ever seen with a voice that was quite simply pure and unique. She seemed destined to have a longevity within the music industry that would be unmatched by any other female singer.

I think the writing was on the wall though when she got close and eventually married the drug abuser that is Bobby Brown. I used to also like Brown's music when I was a kid (alot of the time it was just for the funky beats and rhythm that his tunes were known for) but felt betrayed when I found out that not only he was an addict, but one who actually glorified his addictions later in life. If he hasn't done already, he should hang his head in shame for the way he corroded not only the voice, but the natural inner and outer beauty of someone he was entrusted to look after.

Quite simply if you put a clean peach in a pot with a rotten apple, the unclean nature of the rotten fruit will eventually permeate and corrupt the once clean peach. There's proberly no doubt she loved him and maybe saw a chink of light in Brown, by which with her nature she felt she could save him. Unfortunately it ultimately turned out to be a fools dream.

A true lesson for anyone attempting to contemplate a relationship with a lover of narcotics, you may feel you are strong enough to 'change' them, but in reality, the end is always the same. The only 'change' will be to your own life through unhappiness, false hope and misery. Light will always win over darkness in the end but the journey until we all get there, if you can help it, is not a path you should take in the first place.

Whitney's family must have gone through so much over the years, as any drug addicted parents have to. From seeing their baby grow into a wonderful clean-living human being, to meeting the person who would ultimately lead her by the hand into destruction. Whitney was a lovely person, no doubt, even whilst she was battling her drink and drug-soaked demons, and that is what I for one will remember her by. Her voice, her beauty, her wonderful heart.

3rd

Do you like drawing or painting? No matter whether your a child painting in thick crayon strokes or a older one who draws little stick men or vast time consuming masterpieces, I'm sure that most people can still appreciate the beauty of a personal work of art. Be it a vibrantly coloured alternative piece, a subtly shaded pastel street-scene or a glorious and vividly-alive watercolour landscape or seascape.

Just like people, every piece of art is unique and has its own individuality, and it doesn't really matter if a piece is technically better than another, to me every one is special. Quite simply a piece of that artists life is captured in their work, and its special because the time that artist has invested creating that piece can never be recovered, it literally is a moment of their life.

I came across a truly wonderful organisation today called - The Mouth and Foot Painting Artists Association.

Despite a range of different severe handicaps, many of the members have achieved international recognition for their work. One of the members is a gentleman called Steve Chambers who was featured in a newspaper article today. Steve was born with a rare disability which left him without any muscles in his arms and has since learnt to paint with a brush using his only lips. Steve who lives in Norfolk, said ''To me using a paintbrush with my mouth is like you using your hand to pick up a spoon. I don't find it difficult because I have never known anything different since I was a child''.

Steve's artwork even if he had use of his arms would be excellent enough, but to know how hard it is to paint just with a paintbrush between your teeth is something incredibly special indeed. I tried it myself with some brushes I use, and I can tell you honestly and without any shame, that mine turned out as if a drunken spider had body-popped its way across my paper :). It makes my admiration for these talented members of this organisation even greater

I would urge you to check out the website below and view some of the other artists works. There are simply some amazing pieces on there, and I think you'll be astounded at the quality.

It always makes my heart soar when I see how people who haven't had the best fortune in life, don't let anything hold them back from fully enjoying themselves and expressing their personalities in every way possible. Just fabulous people.

The Mouth and Foot Painting Artists Association   

January 2011

31st

Don’t you just hate junk mail – in any form!

 

Be it unwanted flyers in your postbox, chain mail that infects your inbox or late night unsolicited phone calls trying to sell you something you don’t really need.

 

The junk info highway it appears, seems to have created a pathway to that last bastion of solitude - the mobile phone network

 

I have always been very careful to who I give my mobile number out to, and like my home telephone number (which is ex-directory) was only ever meant to keep in touch with family and friends.

 

Today I received a number of bleeps indicating 'txt' messages had happily arrived in a little heap in my mobiles inbox. ‘Aww, what friend will that be’, I pondered, and then with my smile suddenly turning itself around into a frown, the following words beamed across my screen:

 

‘Our records indicate your pension is under performing, to see higher growth and release of 25% in cash reply REVIEW. To opt out reply STOP’

 

What a way to start the day and make you feel a lot older than you are :)

 

Thanks! I wouldn’t have minded if it had said ‘Hah good looking, you’ve won a Ferrari’. I’m just jesting! – but then again a Ferrari would be kind of nice :)

 

Throughout the day, my phone buzzed and whistled merrily, unknowingly delivering unwanted messages of a similar ilk, offering me congratulatory wishes on everything from a washing machine, a day out at the races and happily advising that I had won a speedboat! All were from different mobile telephone numbers.

 

I have always thought that the people who carry out these scams (usually sitting in a country far away) are the lowest of the low. And to the vulnerable or elderly these very persistent sales pitches can seem very convincing indeed. Be it the claim of helping some orphaned child out in Bosnia to helping someone claim their inheritance in Africa. A generous financial thank you is yours but they need some money from you first with which to help pay the solicitors costs who will then release the money!

 

I remember a few years back there was a story of a very elderly pensioner who for many years (it was said due to loneliness) replied to the junk mail he received through the post. There’s no doubt he was a kind man who felt that he was helping people, but his mistake was replying to that very first junk letter. Because when you do, your details are put on the disgracefully named ‘MUG LIST’, and then once the individuals who sent you the letter in the first place receives money from you, they will constantly keep sending you begging letters all with completely different and plausible stories attached. Once you keep replying they will even sell your details onto their other like-minded criminal friends who will be in contact with you also, and so the vicious cycle begins.

 

The elderly gentleman’s dilemma was only discovered when his relatives offered to look into his finances as he seemed to be living on cheap food and his own standard of living was going downhill fast. Upon investigations it sadly transpired that over a 4-year period, he had given away over £200,000 from his life savings. He later admitted that he felt trapped and overwhelmed by the volume of letters that were being addressed to him (sometimes 15 a day), but couldn’t seem to break out of the habit. When he finally showed the pile of letters (which he had kept hidden in a cupboard) to his family, the stack came to over three feet in height when piled on the floor!

 

What a sad end to a gentleman who had worked hard all his life to build up financial security to aid him in his latter years. A richly generous heart who felt he was doing the right thing and yet he was left in poverty.

 

It’s safe to safe that the text messages I received went to the great deleted junk-box in the sky, but I don’t feel there’s any doubt I’ll probably receive more.

 

I checked into the story and contacted O2 to ask for an explanation and they apologised and advised that they did have a security leak, but its all been patched up now. They then breathtakingly said not to worry, as my details couldn’t be taken from their systems again as they’ve beefed up their security programs. Wow! That really is reassuring. It’s a bit like literally locking the stable door after the horse has bolted and then telling the stable owner, ‘Don’t worry that horse wont escape again, we’ve upgraded the locks on the gate’!

 

Unfortunately like the proverbial horse, my contact details have bolted (unintentionally) for the criminal cowboys on the horizon and are pretty much open to be touted around – as long as I keep hold of the same number.

 

Suffice to say, I have decided to do the only sensible option and cancel my account and mobile number with O2 and look elsewhere, hopefully with a supplier who values the security and personal details of their customers (employers) more genuinely.

One link to the story is below: What made my mind up completely to leave was the pathetic apology line from O2 which read: 'In between January 10th and 14:00 (on) Wednesday January 25th, in addition to the usual trusted partners, there has been the potential for disclosure of customer's mobile phone numbers to further website owners'

What bothers me in addition to my details being stolen by hackers, is to who are O2 routinely providing my private data to? Whose are these mysterious 'trusted partners' and 'website owners'? And what do they do with my information considering my contract is and always has been with O2 solely?

O2 loses customers data

 

As regards the Internet, there’s a wonderfully apt criminal term called ‘Phishing’, which acts very much like the gentle lake pursuit it sounds like. The email is the bait and you are the fish, the criminal is the angler patiently waiting for a few dips to pull on the float. Just as in the pensioners case, you will receive multiple emails which all look genuine and official, usually from a banking institution asking you to fill in an online form with all your personal details because – ironic as it is – their reason is that there has been a security leak and criminals have tried to access your account!

 

Quite incredible really, the criminals are posing as the good guys to help you defeat themselves! You can usually tell straightaway they fake, because quite simply you are not a member of the bank the email says you are a member of.

 

The criminals don’t really care if they only receive a few emails back; it’s all about percentages. If they send out a million emails, and only 1% of the recipients unwittingly reply, then that’s still a good day’s work.

 

Always remember though that no official organisation will EVER ask for you to confirm your details via an email. If in doubt always contact the company you are connected to directly.

 

Another more direct way of gaining your trust is with the increasingly popular set-up of websites that look like the real organisations one. The website address will almost be an exact match. This is where Google (as brilliant as it is) sometimes falls down. Never just type in your organisations name in the search and click on one of the many genuinely sounding searches it produces. The best way to be sure if your on the correct official website and not a ‘Trojan’ is to type the official website address directly into the ‘Address Bar’.

 

I would urge you if you ever receive junk email of any description – to simply destroy them. Email: delete and put on block list. Phone: Ask never to be contacted again and hang up straightaway. Letter: A bittersweet moment to see such a waste of paper but also very therapeutic to see the shredded remains enter the dustbin.

 

It’s such a shame really, as the people behind these scams are obviously intelligent people. Its just such a shame they don’t put their brains to causes that could benefit mankind instead of leeching from their fellow man.

 

If you ever feel that you are being targeted instead of just ‘Phished’ for, then contact your local authorities with as much information as you can. And finally remember, there are so many more good and honest people in this world of ours. It just seems that the criminals are in the majority because they make the most noise. Hopefully one day that will all change.

15th

I saw a wonderful film again today that always brings a tear to my eye. Its called Hatchi - A Dog's Tale, starring Richard Gere, and is based on a true and inspiring story about the love between a dog and his owner who lived in Japan in the 1920's.

Outside Shibuya train station in Tokyo there is a bronze statue that is fashioned in Hatchi's (Hatchiko is his real name) image. Due to the enduring story of this most loyal of friends, you can still visit the statue today and is in fact one of the most popular meeting points for visitors in that area.

The first statue was commissioned in 1934 whilst Hatchiko was still alive (such was the folklore of his name), and he actually was present during the unveiling of it to the public. Sadly he died a year later. Due to the war effort, the statue was recycled during World War II but a new one (and the one that still stands today) was built in 1948. 

I first saw the film last year without knowing the full story, and I feel its better if you do so too. Its a very emotional journey and asks the question that if a animal can love a human so much, should'nt we all do so too? If a dog can show humility, loyalty, respect and true unconditional friendship. Why cant we? Or at least the majority of people can start to try. You never know, they may even like the emotions that Hatchi displayed so eloquently and easily.

'You should never forgot anyone you've loved' - Wise words indeed spoken.

I have still to visit the land of tech and bewilderment that is Japan, but when I do, Ive put visiting Hatchiko's statue already at the top of my itinerary.

7th

I visited  London today with family and had a nice, varied and interesting time. I hadnt been for a while and it was good to go back to explore and reflect on what makes London, well...London!

December 2011

19th

I recently came across a man called a wonderful man called Dick Proenneke who in 1968 decided to take a year out of civilisation and make his home within the Alaskan Wilderness. 

November 2011

24th

We all have days where sometimes all we feel like doing is just sitting in an armchair, relaxing and listening to some great music. Its the same when evening arrives, after a hard day at work, all we feel like is having a nice meal and then just chilling out with good friends and family.

Last year I discovered a composer through Youtube called Paul Collier. A truly wonderful man, who even though has had many hardships in his life, has come out of the tunnel in good shape and possessing a continued love for his fellow man.

I would urge you to check out his work, whatever time of the day it is. Probably one of the most kindest, decent and humble men you could hope to meet. And no doubt one of the most musically talented composers who has not signed to a label. I love his work ethic, zest for life, the way he cares for others and the way he holds principles and morals over any fleeting glimpse of power, money or fame.

A few of my favourite compositions are : Air, My Peaceful Place, The Man Who Chose To Smile and Slow Down. Slow Down has caressed my ears on many more than a solo occasion as the last sounds before I have gone to sleep. Its a lot like Paul himself, an extremely peaceful individual piece of created work.

Paul Collier Music

21st

15th

It's that time of year again where the nights draw in earlier, the temperature is cooler and our clothing gets decidingly thicker. One winter item I always enjoy choosing is a nice pair of new gloves. Last year when I went to Paris in December I bought a pair of 'Etre Touchy Gloves', as they were recommended in a photo magazine I read and the review gave them top marks not only for style and warmth, but also practicality when it came to operating your camera in cold weather.

After giving them a thorough testing whilst in Paris, I am happy to confirm that the reviews were right.

The majority of the gloves have their thumb and index fingers shortened so your bare skin can still operate all of your cameras functions including the all important shutter button. It was announced just a few days ago that Etre's new range is about to be released with some fabulous new colours added to the palette. Also new this year are the 'Etre FIVEPOINT Gloves', which have simply all of their digits still attached. Whats great about them (and if you've ever tried to swipe your PDA, smartphone or tablet computer, in a standard pair of gloves, you'll understand) is that due to their special 'contactwoven' fingertips, they let you use touchscreens without having to take the gloves off. A real blessing when it is cold weather.

If your in the market for a new pair of gloves, then I can honestly and wholeheartedly recommend these stylish, practical and essential little numbers. You wont regret it.

ETRE Gloves

Picture courtesy of Etre.com

14th

 

A funny thing is happening to the facial hair on the males of Kent…Its growing! and in many cases insanely out of control.

 

I’ve seen more and more people over the past two weeks sprouting facial fuzz in places that quite honestly there should not be. I’ve seen the beginnings of handlebar moustaches, thick Mexican style recreations and thin pencil lined concoctions being carefully cultivated. Some guys have had the courage to turn their sprouting locks into Dali-esque works and others have gone for the comical effect of imitating Chaplin.

 

The reason for this sudden growth is the phenomenon called appropriately ‘Mo-vember’. Its origins began in 1999, when a group of Australian men from Adelaide decided to run events throughout the month of November, to raise awareness for men’s health issues including depression and prostate cancer

 

Whilst wanting to raise some cash for their favourite charities they came up with the idea of growing some hair on their top lip, for which punters either out of collective embarrassment for them, or just enjoyed seeing what life would be for males if the razor hadn’t been invented, dug deep and piled many pounds into the charities coffers. Since 2004, the fundraising achievements of this small band of very giving individuals evolved into the Movember Foundation charity, which we see today.

 

The month is also known as Novembeard for men who prefer a bit more of a facial fuzz covering.

 

In 2010, Movember decided to merge with the testicular cancer event Tacheback, and has gained even more popularity as a cultural event.

 

Some guys have admitted, with a hint of hidden shame, that they aren’t raising any cash themselves but rather ‘it’s a good excuse to feel lazy for a month and save on razor blades’, guys huh!

 

As in any discipline, there are some rules:

 

The rules of conduct given on the Movember site are:-

1. Once registered at Movember.com each Mo bro must begin the 1st of Movember with a clean-

shaven face.

2. For the entire month of Movember each Mo bro must grow and groom a moustache.

3. There is to be no joining of the Mo to your side burns. (That’s considered a beard.)

4. There is to be no joining of the handlebars to your chin. (That’s considered a goatee)

5. Each Mo bro must conduct himself like a true country gentleman.

 

If you wish to get in on the action and start raising money for these brilliant charities, you can - throw away that razor, get growing and start collecting. If you would prefer to remain smooth faced but lighter of wallet, then do please head over to the websites, where you will find ways of donating whatever you can spare. Every penny counts. On behalf of all our ‘Mo’ brothers, we salute you.

13th

 

I took part in England’s premier sea fishing competition today – The Kent Classic. It is held once a year usually in November and 400 anglers (adult and junior) descend upon the beaches of Sheerness in my home county of Kent to try their skills in catching the ‘big-one’.

 

Myself and my lovely nephew Cameron were entered and we arose early at 5am to make the check-in at 7am. After having some breakfast and checking that we had everything we needed for the day, including hot flasks of water, soup, and other essentials we stepped out into the fresh morning air. A wake-up call would be too mild a term as you felt you were immediately embraced by a hug of misty coolness. A light fog hung in the air and as we set off for the drive to the check-in location, our car headlights were one of only a few sets on the roads.

 

We arrived, checked-in, drew our location number and set off for our peg, which was located down near the Docks. Upon taking our gear out of the car and getting suited up in warm waterproof clothes, a shiny red Chrysler Dodge Nitro 4x4 vehicle pulled up alongside. After relieving my car of the final pieces of equipment we needed for the days endeavors, I walked to the red Dodge to ask the owner if he could confirm the start time of the competition. He was wearing an all-in-one suit with a peaked cap pressed firmly over his ears, but as he very pleasantly confirmed the time I had written down, I couldn’t help but feel he looked familiar. I walked back to my car to get my stuff, stopped, turned and then walked back to the Dodge. ‘Your face really looks familiar, what is your name?’ I enquired; he smiled and said it was ‘Alan Yates’. Ah, that was why he was so familiar. When I was a boy, myself and friends used to go fishing at different spots in the UK including many British Rail journeys to the Dover Piers and also Dungeness. The two most famous sea anglers of the time, who seemed to win most competitions and seemingly wrote the most articles in the fishing press were two men called Paul Kerry and… Alan Yates! I’m sure Alan wouldn’t mind me saying this, but even then he possessed a truly weather enriched face, a face full of character and one that just by its appearance screamed that he spent a lot of his time outdoors. Looking at him in the flesh for the first time in all these years, he hadn’t changed much at all and still looked the same, with the same welcoming smile I had seen on TV and in the photos in the magazines.

As kids, we always pretended to be Paul Kerry when casting (as he was the best in the UK) and Alan Yates as the all-round grand sea fishing guru master. Kind of like Yoda but instead of a lightsaber, a rod :).

 

He was a lovely, friendly man and after exchanging some nice words of mutual encouragement for the day ahead, we parted and went to our respective pegs. Coincidentally he was only placed a few pegs up, and seeing him setting up against a fog shrouded beach, with the horizon obscured by the diffused soft glow of the early morning sun, was in angling terms a really nice sight.

 

Cameron and I proceeded to setup our own camp, complete with umbrella, and set about making it as user friendly and homely as much as we could in preparation for the starters whistle to be blown.

 

11am came around and seeing hundreds of anglers all shuffle down the steep slopes like slightly awkward penguins was a funny but nice site. There’s something quite special about being around people with the same interests as yourself. Sharing a common purpose really brings people together and the best out of people.

 

Within a few minutes of casting out, Cameron got a cracking bite, struck, and was into a nice Flounder. After a little battle he reeled it in, and it did indeed look quite large and over the minimum size limit. I was so pleased he seemed to be able to get on the score sheet so soon, and with it a chance of getting into the top 3 junior places, and the opportunity to win prize money and gifts. I said to him before the competition though, that we should just try our best to win, but treat it also as just a good day out down the coast. If we didn’t win, then it wasn’t the end of the world. He best summed it up in his own inimitable style – ‘Don’t worry Ash, if we don’t win, we’ll still have our jacket potato for dinner tonight’. The honest, real, and humbling things kids say always warm the cockles of my hearts and thats why I love them so much.

 

As always, even though I did prepare for the competition seriously and was competitive about winning, if I didn’t, it wouldn’t really matter. My main focus was on helping Cameron win. For his own self-confidence, it matters to me so much more than any fleeting personal achievement of my own. The first year we went he was only 7, and he managed to scoop the 1^st, 2^nd, and 3^rd place prizes all in one and in subsequent years had got on the medal table too. I was and am so proud of him, never complaining about knocks in life, frequently offering pearls of wisdom and philosophy years older than his own young age, and just simply being as close to me as any brother I hoped to have in my own life.

 

Unfortunately, even though being extremely plump, it was half a centimetre short of the weighing in catch limit, and so it went. We had a wonderful time laughing and enjoying the day, the sun shone brightly in the blue skies and the wind wasn’t too strong. In fact once you were sheltered behind your camp, the sun was stunningly warm and really brought home to you how unseasonably hot we’ve had the month of November. We met some truly wonderful individuals who were all so friendly. Some were open with their ‘secrets’ on how to catch, some were like a closed book, but pretty much all were a nice bunch of people, and a good mixture of women and men. The day progressed onwards to the finishing time of 4pm, and we managed to catch again a number of times including bass and another Flounder, but sadly all were just undersize, and so couldn’t be counted towards the weigh in. As always, we carefully returned the little souls to the waters edge, waited for a surf to swell up high and then gently cast them back in, hopefully for them to live a full life exploring their home within the sea.

 

The final whistle did blow, and with a heart tempered with slight disappointment of not being able to win anything this time, the rest of our heart was brimming with memories of a good day, spent in good company and loving just being by the seaside looking out over the horizon watching all the ships going to-and-fro, and also imagining all the exotic destination the planes were going that criss-crossed the sky.

 

It’s funny though that in part, the fine weather that we enjoyed (fine winds strong sun), turned out to be not to the fish’s liking. Usually it turns out that the rougher the weather has been, particularly after a storm, the fishing is much better.

In the end, not many fish were caught, and it did sadly turn out that if Cameron’s first fish of the day had been just that fraction of an inch bigger, he would’ve won the junior trophy.

 

Afterwards I was speaking to a chap who was lamenting the lack of fish stocks in general and I agreed with him. Sadly a large percentage of the problem is due to overfishing, and the skipper’s lack of foresight to ease back on his catch to allow the stocks to regrow. The other is the tragic EU’s policy that if any boat does catch more than their allotted quota for that day, then all fish, no matter how healthy, have to be dumped back over the side, where they all sink or float on the tide half-dead. Thus serving no purpose at all, and just depleting the stocks even faster and making a mockery of the claim that all governments care for the many starving people in the world.

 

I remember being down Dungeness one day, and where there is an order in pace that the trawler boats have to be a certain distance from shore, observing many which were still coming in to close. They were that close, that many anglers on the beach, and in complete desperation, were casting their weights towards the trawlers, allowing their end tackle to hit the side of the boats in a somewhat feeble attempt to warn off the skippers. Sadly it didn't have the desired effect.

 

The guy back at the competition said that frequently the fishing is better once the evening arrives. I asked if a night competition was ever considered? He shrugged his shoulders and said at one time it was. But went on to admit that even though he was a member of the local Sheerness sea angling club, he hoped the idea would never see the light of day. I enquired as to why? And looking around as is if he was going to tell me a state secret, he said it’s because of the 'cheating'. He went on that he only goes to a few matches out of the annual quota himself now as he got frustrated with people hiding fish in their buckets and then when people wasn’t looking would (like an old black-and-white comedy), sneak the deceitful booty onto the end of his line and then proceed to pass it off as if they just had caught it! He said one guy even hollowed out a section in his rod and hid a live eel up it so as to gain extra marks for an unusual catch. When he perceived no one was looking, he slid the poor little fella out, put it on his hook and then went all theatrical in trying to make his story seem genuine. Unfortunately for him, some folks did see him and he was rightly disqualified.

 

I had always thought that the gentle art of fishing was above approach, but I suppose in today’s society it was a naïve assumption. Frequently where there is money to be made, it does indeed bring out the worst in the human spirit.

 

So with tales aplenty and a slight tan courtesy of the suns smile. Tired but still smiling ourselves, we headed for home.

And oh, yes we did get our jacket potato ;)

 

12th

 

Do you like golf? Even if you don’t personally play, I always feel its one of those sports that is as ideal for spectators enjoyment as it is for the participants.

 

Usually the courses are in beautiful areas of natural beauty around the world and the diversity of different golf disciplines is immense. From playing a serious 18 hole game on the ancient St Andrews to being able to knock a ball through a windmill on a mini golf course somewhere on the near the seaside. There really is something for everyone depending on your mood and how seriously you want to take it.

 

I have a few favourite courses in England, some are windblown on the coast, where the trees are knarled over making intriguing frozen sculptures to ones that possess holes where you literally have to hit the ball almost in blind faith as the destination of the hole is unclear. Its one of those games that I love every aspect of it, be it the technical side of choosing the right club, the friendly but competitive camaraderie with friends, having a good walk through lovely countryside, the thrill of getting out of a situation that seemed impossible and to just simply being near nature and being able to unwind and relax in good company.

 

I sadly don’t go as often as I would like, but immensely enjoy the whole experience when I do. I received some disappointing news today though, and it was compounded by the fact I had been looking forward to it for quite a long time.

 

I went to one of my favourite little local golf courses. It’s a wonderful place, surrounded by rolling fields and farmland. Inside is a snug bar, which is equipped with a great pool table and darts board. The layout of the club is housed within an old but well-modernised oast house, and it has a really nice sheltered driving range on which to practice. A couple of months ago, quite a few of the ranges were upgraded with a new invention called the ‘Power-Tee’. Which simply is an automatic aid to help you spend more time hitting the balls instead of placing every new ball on the tee yourself. You open up a flap concealed on the floor, tip in approximately 100 balls or so, select the desired height of your tee (depending on what club your using) on the electronic board, and away you go.

 

Its funny, it may sound simple but it does really helps you to just focus on hitting the ball and getting your swing right, instead of breaking up your rhythm by bending down the 100 or so times it would take if you didn’t have it.

 

For many years the club had a most wonderful way of collecting the spent yellow club practice balls hat were fired all over the range. It was a converted Citroen 2CV, that was cut-and-shut so that its back end held what looked like an oversized lawnmower grass collector which plucked up the balls as the 2CV trundled around the range. I don’t think it would’ve passed its MOT ;)

 

Next Friday I had booked up with friends to play a game of ‘night-golf’. When I first heard the club was hosting one, I just had to play it. You receive a glow-in-the-dark ball, and light strips are placed along every fairway to illuminate your way, a bit like an airports landing strip. The holes are then illuminated from inside so you can just see a shaft of light protruding out of each one, thus making the game enjoyably challenging. I think it would’ve been a really eerie but special sight to be out on the course, seeing little tracers of light shooting through the air lighting up the sky like a low-flying fireworks display.

 

Unfortunately it wasn’t to be this time. Today when I arrived at the club to pay my final deposit for friends and myself. I was told that the event had been cancelled due to the numbers signed up to play being just short of the target needed. I was really disappointed. I’m going to look to see if anywhere else is going to host an even this side of December, hopefully there will be but if not then a regular game of ‘light-golf’ will have to suffice, for now :)

 

If you are interested in either arm-chairing or indeed teeing off around some truly unusual and spectacular courses, then a book I can wholeheartedly recommend is ‘Extreme Golf:  The worlds most unusual, fantastic and bizarre courses’. The ingenuity that some people put to use to be able to play golf is really amazing and fabulous fun too.

 

11th

 

Went to the theatre tonight and had a great time with family watching a favourite singer of mine – Charlie Landsborough. In addition to possessing a warm treacle-coated voice, he is just simply a fantastic songwriter and fabulously genuine human being. His own personal story is one of hardship and trials but ultimately one that instills in you the firm belief that if you work hard, love others as yourself and allow others into our lives without the need for barriers, everything will right itself in the end – truly a man imitating my favourite quote of ‘hope setting you free’.

 

He’s actually quite hard to characterize into a particular genre as he is a very versatile artist, and is equally at home singing tremendously well anything from Bob Dylan to the Beatles. His own intimately worded songs mean more to me though, as covers are never the same when someone other than the person who wrote the song sings it. The covering artist can never convey the raw emotion to WHY it was written, and also communicate the real and personal feelings that the original artist had gone through when composing it based on their own life experiences.

 

In between the songs Charlie teases and enthralls the audience with heartfelt tales and jokes that of such sparkling originality and others that are just pure slapstick that you can laugh so hard, he’s onto the next one before you can actually recover. His singing voice is powerful but extremely well controlled but his speaking accent is that of a Liverpudlian comedian, I truly love the Liverpool lilt.

 

Joining him on stage at tonight’s show was his son Jamie (who also possesses a fine voice) who has an obvious and touching affinity with his dad. And that pretty much sums up the type of show it is. Full of warmth, friendship, compassion, family orientated, fun, love and wonderful meaningful singing. All the songs have a deeper more meaningful message and every one of them has actually something to say, all wrapped up to the tunes of beautifully strung together melodies.

 

I suppose inevitably his audience is made up of older ones, and not many young ones get to appreciate his music. This is a shame but not surprising as for a society fed on the regurgitated cover-version pap, music TV shows transmit. Anything which is genuinely all about loving good music is thrown out with the lost arts of making fine furniture, honest master-craftsman and living a life by the motto of not what-you-can-get from society and what-you-can-give-back.

 

I really enjoy and admire musicians who can actually sing live, play all their own instruments, write their own songs, and make every show seem to the audience as if it was their first.

 

What I also love about Charlie is his self-depreciating humour that endears him to so many, be it either him joking about his appearance and people warning him to not leave the house on November 5^th – for his own protection! :). Or taking full responsibility for anything he does wrong in life on himself and either blaming himself for his own mistakes, or in many cases simply being honest about a failing memory. Truly a modest and refreshing gentleman in what today is frequently a me, me, me world and where it is customary to blame others for everything and anything you carelessly do and the way you selfishly act. To be honest though, the way he plays the guitars is note perfect on every song and remembers the myriads of well-told jokes, his memory is in fine shape.

 

Charlie released a lovely album called the story teller a while ago, and before each song, introduced them with the actual meanings to what inspired him to write it.

 

I hope you listen to and enjoy the lyrics in the one below. Oh and before I go, even though butterflies are beautiful creatures, try and never be one to your own friends.

10th

With the recent changing of the clocks, the days seem starved of light now. Days seem to become nights all too quickly and the average temperature has definitely dropped by a few degrees. I do love getting wrapped up though and venturing out at this time of year, the winter wardrobe can definitely be as attractive as the summer one.

Another feature of the early nights is the more than usual hub of activity from our little critters that inhabit our gardens and fields. Tonight on returning home from work, sitting just outside the front door as if to greet me like a faithful little puppy, was a baby Hedgehog! It was so small and had a very cute little face. I know the initial reaction from a lot of people is that 'OMG, its got fleas! Stay away, Contaminated'. Is this the case though? I don't know, sure it proberly attracts little unwelcome friends of his own, but have you ever seen a filthy Hedgehog? In fact, many people have never seen one up close, such is the prejudice against these lovely little animals. They usually forage around our gardens, acting like a natural waste basket gobbling up many little foes, that we as humans would class ourselves as unwelcome, including Slugs.

As the evening was bitterly cold, I decided to try and give him some food, and after not having a slug casserole to hand, started laying out some of my fruit including some pieces of apple, and a few tangerines. And do you know what? This little ball of spikes was a real connoisseur! He sniffed around, then stuck his nose up and looked at me as if to say 'Well, what else you got!'. I heard somewhere that they were supposed to like chocolate, yeah I know it sounds kind of crazy but do you know what, its true. Hedgehogs love Penguins! After gently sniffing and then licking the top, he launched into a feeding frenzy with his little teeth whirring around like chainsaw.

He later had his fill, and leaving behind the remnants of his unexpected feast, he trundled off into the thicket happy and proberly with a slightly larger waistline.

Talking of animals cleaning themselves, have you ever seen a naturally dirty Lion, Tiger, domestic Cat, Deer, Monkey, Panda, Giraffe or any other animal?

Sure when there playing in muddy water or walking through a dusty landscape, or in the case of a Lion or Tiger, just had a meal. But what is built within them though, that without access to a mirror or attending a school that they are NATURALLY clean? When was the last time you saw a Lion on one of those TV animal documentaries walking through the bush with the stains of month's old blood still attached to its mane and fur? It just doesn't happen. It does kind of annoy me that whenever someone wants to lambast a dirty person for their poor personal hygiene or the unkempt state they keep their home in, they refer to them as 'animals'.

What an insult to any animal! On the whole, humans far from just causing so much unnecessary harm to the earth's ecology and its wildlife, and learning to repent of our mistakes in this massive regard. We as a race, should hang our heads in shame at the fact we can be taught so many lessons on how to lead a clean, and hygienic life from these 'dumb' animals. If we are truly the result of billions of years of evolution, this unseen force must be shaking its head in dismay that the ultimate evolutionary creature its created, is fast undoing ALL of the work its patiently and 'unintelligently' worked on all these years.

9th

I had a wonderful day. Met some lovely people, work was good and went to the gym in the evening and had a nice workout. When I arrived home later that night I experienced a peculiar but wondrous thing.

 

At the top of our road, we have our garages, and in being able to see the night sky clearly it is definitely somewhat of a sweet spot. I got out of my car to be confronted with the black inkiness of the majesty that is all above us. The stars shone brightly like backlit little diamonds, and the awesomeness of our universe hit me as it always does, I never grow tired of it.

 

The night air was fresh and I stood there a while exploring the night sky with my eyes and imagination. A couple of shooting stars made a brief but spectacular appearance and then were gone again to be replaced by the celestial blanket once more.

 

The moon was a full one and I marveled at its relationship to our own earth and how thankful we should all be that it just hangs there as a silent guardian of our planets welfare. I thought about the unmatched power of the sun and how it literally and metaphorically brightens all our days. The light from the moon was romantic though and just enough to walk or read some text by.

 

Just across the face of the moon was a curtain of high altitude clouds that had the effect of diffusing its light, and even though it didn’t make the circumference of the actual moon larger, it created the effect of a multitude of expanding rings around it, giving the effect the it was greater in size than it actually was.

 

And then I saw it.

 

It was because I was actually looking directly at the moon at that exact time and the extra illumination caused by the clouds, that the object stood out so clearly from the night sky. Otherwise due to its dark colour, it would’ve proberly blended into the surroundings very well indeed.

 

Like a giant bat, silent and with energy, it just glided at a great pace from left to right. Triangular in shape and with no sound it moved stealthily through the air. It had no lights on it all and no visible means of attracting one’s attention.

Just behind it were clearly two much smaller planes, these though had their colourful lights flashing clearly and as they flew so close to the vehicle in front of them, I suppose they were being used not only for chaperone purposes but also so their lights could be seen to any approaching aircraft.

 

After no more than a minute or so, the three objects maintained their course and moved out of sight. Happy I had seen something which I had never seen before, I spent a few more minutes taking in the universe above me, before slowly and gradually the cloud formation started to move left and dissipate, and all that was left was a much more visually smaller but perfectly round full moon hanging in total darkness cosseted by all its shining star brethren.

 

I turned towards home. It was time for bed.

2nd

After five long weeks the trial of Dr Conrad Murray who is accused of the involuntary manslaughter of Michael Jackson, is nearly at a close. The jury (made up of 7 men and 5 woman) is currently out and will return to the courthouse in Los Angeles tomorrow to hear closing statements from both the defense and the prosecution. Half of the jury have admitted to being fans of Michael Jackson and this has naturally led some in the press to speculate whether Murray will get a fair trial. They may have a point but then again trying to find possibly anyone on this planet who hasnt heard of Michael Jackson and to not have prior feelings about him, good or bad, is like trying to convince someone that the moon is actually made out of cheese - it's not going to happen!

I, personally have been a fan of Michael Jackson since I was a small boy. And when I say fan, I mean in the sense that apart from enjoying his musical, theatrical and dancing talents, I, more importantly just simply loved him as a fellow human being. No one should ever worship another human being, and that is the danger many fall into, especially in this world of ours with its frequent pressures and in recent years a seemingly neverending barrage of bad news, concerning everything from the economy to natural disasters, people are looking for saviours.

Some people may have more money than yourself or have a more natural flair for a particular talent, but at the end of the day, everyone on this planet is the same as they have all lost, loved and have feared something. In basic terms, everyone has to go to the toilet, believe it or not!

It always brings a smile to my face when I speak to those people who put their idols on a seemingly high pedestal. It's always worth remembering though that an artists public persona is usually just that, it's what they do in their private moments and away from the media PR machine, that should be most important. I've always found it so telling with Michael, that when the image of the monster the media has always liked to portray him as being, is confronted with a mirror of truth to the contrary, the alternative and correct view is neatly smashed out the way.

A man bordering on the psychotic, a strange shape-shifting shuffling mask-wearing individual, who likes to sleep in oxygen capsules and sleeping in bunk-beds with monkeys!

If you were an alien who came down for a day, just knowing this 'thing' called Michael was roaming our green and pleasant land would make you fire up your rocket's engine and want to escape as quickly as you came!

What a tragic misleading and corrupt cesspit of a machine our mass media has become. All outlets with different fancy abreviations and names, but all singing from the same dishonest and financially driven hymn sheets.

And this is the point and why, a large perecentage of the western population should consult their natural inbuilt conscience's (Yes, we ALL have one, no one is left out from the moment of birth, it's just that some people purposely choose to ignore it) and hang their head's in shame. For sure, the media pumped out the garbage but without a steady supply of the population to open wide, gulp down and then cry our for more, their business practices didn't have no incentive to adapt or need to change for the better. 

If you look at all of the most popular TV programmes of recent years, their singular connecting thread is the mockery of others and putting the viewer in a position to look down on the contestant and judge them. A modern day version of a gladitorial fight where the emperor (strike media) turns to his people (strike public) and awaits their 'thumb' judgement. The difference of today being that only the persons reputation is actually publically slaughtered. 

All of Michael's efforts to bring relief to those who were suffering (young or old) did not fit in with the dangerous and paedophilic persona they had created. Quite simply, accurate and good news about him, would not sell publications. This was the way with Michael since pretty much when he went solo as a male vocal artist.

In the last remaining years of his life though, after the two false allegations of child abuse (Seriously! just on this its a joke. It never fails to amaze me that the most vocal of his critics who shout from the rooftops of his perceived guilt that he molested children, do next to no research into the actual evidence surrounding these baseless and false allegations. But why would they?

When someone is as arrogant to want to believe something just based on their own hideous misguided perceptions, hearing any form of truth which would make themselves challenge their own deeply entrenched viewpoints, is NOT something they would want to hear. In all the years of Michael's home 'Neverland' being open, and with the thousands of sick and sometimes terminally ill children (along with their parents) being invited to a place full of hope, happiness and wonder. A place that would take them out of the confines of their usual existence of being surrounded by hospital beds, medical equipment and constant tests within an environment full of sickness and frequently no hope or colour, only two accusations were made. I would urge you to do your own research into the two false child molestation cases. As always, greed and riches are the at the centre of any devious lie, and I would urge you to add two books to your library. 'Redemption' by by Geraldine Hughes who speaks about the first case involving Jordie Chandler. The second which exposes the web of lies involving the second boy Gavin Arvizo is called 'Michael Jackson: Conspiracy' by Aphrodite Jones) the abuse he suffered reached a crescendo that not many people would have had the heart or good grace to withstand, let alone not want to return evil for evil.

With everyone from the coward that is Eminem (the one who has so many skeletons rocking around in his closet, he couldve supplied all of the extras to Michaels 'Thriller' video by himself), to the directors of the 'Scary Movie' film franchise, lampooning him and mocking him at every opportunity. It was like seeing a lamb being attacked by the most ugly and morally bankrupt pack of laughing hyenas you could see.

What many people conveniently forget or sadly are not aware is that Michael was in the Guiness Book of World Record's as being the popstar who supported the most charities, over 30, tirelessly devoting much of his time and money.

Even in the infamous 'slurred' speech of the Murray trial, where most papers just made him out to be a druggie fruitcake. They misled their readership by not printing the full transcript. I always firmly believe that if you ever want to see the true personality of someone you know, watch them after theyve had a drink. If theyre a naturally kind friend, they will just be a more friendler natural friend who laughs alot. There are those though that when the alcohol works it way in, will loosen their mask and their true nasty nature will burst forth.

What did we hear with Michael, even though he was clearly not all there?

'We have to be phenomenal. When people leave this show. When people leave my show, I want them to say, ''Ive never seen nothing like this in my life. Go. Go. Ive never seen nothing like this. Go. Its amazing. Hes the greatest entertainer in the world''. I'm taking that money, a million children, children's hospital, the biggest in the world, Michael Jackson's Children's Hospital'.

A violent man? A dirty old man? A corrupt and deceitful man? Someone who changes his voice as many like to think he does?

Of course not, even in his very much inebriated state, what did he speak about? Drugs? Wild sex parties with loose woman? Fast cars? Gold rings? No it was simply his love for children, putting on the best show for his fans and spending his own money on opening a children's hospital!

If only we had more people in the public eye who would give of their vast pots of wealth and distributed their money to ones who were literally in dire need of it, the world would be a better place. If more people had the principles of Michael, his dream of 'Healing the World' through the foundation he helped to setup, would become much more of a reality.

For sure, Michael had many issues, and as it is the way in most cases, most of them stemmed directly from his childhood. Polite and naturally gentle of spirit, to have a dad like Joe (who mocked his son for having a big nose and would ultimately give rise to his sons own hideous sense of self-depreciation), is not really someone you would wish on your worst enemy. His mum, Katherine though was a rock, but sadly as he allowed the hanger-ons and blood sucking so called 'friends' or should that be 'fiends' (it's hard to tell) to get their financial fangs into his rich supply of wealth and fame. He let go partially of the woman who would always be there for him.

It always make me laugh when I see people like the spoon-bending Uri Geller or the face-bending David Gest (Who it is said, due to his own physical insecurities, encouraged his 'friend' Michael to embark on a career of self mutilation and a downward spiral of self neglect) coming out singing his praises. Ive lost count of the number of times Ive seen these two dishonest specimens of humanity talking on TV about their 'good pal' Michael and then telling all on some personal matter about Michael, just hearing their stories, you can tell that their 'best friend' Michael would not be comfortable with the intimate and personal tales they so gleefully like to cast about to anyone paying them a fat cheque.

Who really got the most out of their 'friendship'? Ah, that's right a man who has made a career and life out of bringing joy and light into the lives of others, or a man who bends kitchen utensils?!

I think this is the most tragic thing in the Neverland case, and even though Michael quite correctly in light of the allegtions, cancelled all visits to his home, it's a tragedy he had to. I bet if you asked all those children who had the good fortune of having been invited to his home and received some of the unconditional love he freely gave out, you would get the answer back that it was one of the most helpful pieces of medicine they got.

How many children were not given the chance of visiting a place where they could lose themselves in the magic of hope and kindness, and forgot about their troubles, illness and suffering, even if it was for only a day.

How much goodness and compassion do the writers, producers, directors, editors and paparazzi photographers, genuinely display to others? People they dont even know, sometimes dont even see? What kind of heart does it take in this 'Do what thou wilt' world, to go against the common morals of just caring for yourself and loving your fellow man deeply? I love that example of the good samaritan and even though he realistically would'nt ever see the one he was helping again, he gave whatever it took and more so that the one in need's situation was helped. That is a question for those ones in the media own consciences to wrestle with, but as that quality is not one many hacks ever truly posess, I dont think the bout would last long.

I watched the Martin Bashir documentary when it aired in 2003. And I watched the subsequent rebuttal video which was made by Michael's own team whilst shadowing Bashir. Thank goodness they did, because it just clearly showed what a false flatterer and fraudster this Bashir was and is. One thing I wish Michael had just admitted openly and spoke about more clearly was the extent to what plastic surgery he had. I can totally forgive his embarrassment though and also his sad addiction to painkillers. I sadly know a number of ones who are struggling along in this sometimes tough world, and getting free from addictive substances can be a very long road indeed. Sometimes even though someone gives the impression their fine, and provides a lot to others, they can still be hurting so much inside. Its no surprise that the biggest group of depressives in the entertainment industry are the comedians.

I think the episode when Michael's hair caught on fire whilst filming the Pepsi advert in 1984 (and his subsequent introduction and addiction to painkillers), was a turning point for him. And after the release of his 1982 Thriller album (which many people dont realise was supposed to be cancelled on his orders but was released by his record company anyway. You will notice that at the beginning of the video to Thriller there is a disclaimer from Michael stating his disbelief in the occult. It always makes me sad, when those very same people who overode his personal wishes and ones with a secret occult agenda make him out to be the poster boy of Halloween) he sadly decided to cut off those whose companionship would've quite literally saved his life. He kept the same innocent heart condition, but tragically went on to surround himself with many ones who didn't look after his best interests. 

Even touching on the drug that contributed to Michaels death - Propofol. The media have made out in lurid terms that he was drug-addled addict, and that the drug is almost used in much the same pleasurable way as a Heroin, Cocaine or Cannabis user may say they gain from those substances. An addict may sadly be a true term to use of Michael, but let us examine what type of drug this is. Propofol is a drug that reduces anxiety and tension, and promotes relaxation and sleep or loss of consciousness. Propofol provides loss of awareness for short diagnostic tests and surgical procedures, sleep at the beginning of surgery, and supplements other types of general anesthetics.

Specialist care is required. Propofol is injected into a vein and should only ever be given by trained anesthesia professionals in a controlled hospital environment. If Doctor Murray or any other qualified medical practitioner was asked to carry out this procedure in a home setting, they should automatically and strongly said 'NO'.

What people have to understand about Michael is that when you are a person who posesses that much internal energy, is always switched on, has had suffered years of mental abuse, false public allegations and treachery even from those who professed to have loved you, and have (due to very human frailities) been battleing addiction for over two decades. You will have been looking constantly for anything to help you unwind and be able to sleep, and provide you with an answer. Propofol was not that answer. Even in his dependant state, there should have been courageous enough 'friends' to stand up to him and simply say no, and got him the help he desperately needed.

And that is the fact to firmly keep in mind. Far from just hearing the word 'drug' and believing the lies of the media that Michael was taking them because he somehow just enjoyed them and used them in a recreational sense. They make out as if he had a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and the Propofol soaked Rizla paper in the other. And as Bob Marley sang some chilled out tunes in the background, Michael slowly puffed away and blew smoke rings towards the ceiling!

Michael ONLY used this drug to aid his sleep, and help him to not only get physical rest but so he could mentally get some peace as well. I went to the cinema to see the making of his doomed 'This Is It' tour and the immense effort he displayed in performing would have put a man less than half his age to shame. Add to that, the way the promoters added more tour dates that showed only consideration to their balance sheets and not to a 50 year man who would've been like a burnt-out hamster on a revolving wheel by the end of it, you can see why not only his body, spirit of performance, but his mind was in desperate need of rest. Not at all a perfect situation but he was not a drug addict in the traditional sense that the media were hoping to portray him as. And as such would help further mislead and enhance their customers already dysfunctional views of this gentle, loving and misunderstood man.

Bashir's unbalanced and deceitful form of gaining someones trust (Michael was comforted into doing the documentary with Bashir (even though he had an innate distrust of the press) by Bashir himself. Bashir like a snake-oil salesman sold himself on his previous documentary with Princess Diana. Who was a friend of Michael's and someone he personally trusted) was a terrible day for honest reporting and journalism. What a terrible stain on Englands reputation as being a fair country that his deception was committed whilst he lived and worked in this country. I can only apologise on behalf of the UK to the community wherever he now resides, for passing him on to you.

I hope Bashir is happy with himself and the fleeting fame and paycheck he received by gaining a lucrative career shortly after his documentary aired in the USA. I could never understand that, that a man of a irreputable nature would be given a stage in a beautiful country in which to flog his future endeavours, after actually helping to destroy one of their most wonderful sons in Michael Jackson. But then again, the media company who employed him in the USA must own a similar unscrupulous moral codebook that our own media in the UK work from. As the country herself, I truly love America, with all my heart, the land and all her people, as at the end of the day, everyone alive is family.

If there is actually a loving god called Jehovah (YHWH) watching over our world, Mr Bashir like the rest of us, will have to answer for all the willful badness we have individually caused not only to this lovely planet of ours, but also to our fellow man. 

And that is quite simply what Michael was. He was a musically talented individual who could light up the stage with his presence and even though did sometimes had extravagant tastes due to his enormous wealth, his greatest feat was just being a caring, and true humanitarian. Someone who wasn't a god, but someone who had immense faith and trust in the beauty of being a human being. Someone who had all the frailties that as humans we all possess but someone who could dream higher and love more intensely than most. I loved the way he cared for the sick and poor ones in ill health, and unlike a lot of celebrities, actually used his time and money to enhance other peoples lives for the better. Unfortunately in England alone, we have some of the most sensationalist press who use the most underhand reporting techniques known to man, who will report anything even if they know the story to be untrue.

I remember shortly after Michael's death. A particular loathsome creature crawled out from under some rock and said that he used to drive Michael around as his chauffeur. He implied that Michael was homosexual, and whilst driving, he would look at Michael in the rear view mirror and fantasize having sex with him, as he was in love with him. Instead of telling the man what he could do with his story, the English press, not only picked it up, but carried it aloft like an some form of poison-laden olympic torch for many weeks.

Another viewpoint which was publicised shortly after his death in June 2009 was at an American music awards show on US TV, where the audience consisting mainly of black people, and in strong language that Michael wouldnt have approved of, started passionately talking of Michael as being one of 'theirs' and 'he's ours'! What racist things to say! No, Michael, like all of us, White, Black, Purple or Pink-with-dots are all family. The irony of their strong protective words about him is that - where were they when he needed picking up? When he needed his 'Brothers' to comfort him in his times of need over the years? Before they and the papers spouted such nonsense and started stoking a racial divide, they shouldve actually listened to some of Michael's songs to get what an unprejudicial man he was - by really acting upon the message of 'Black or White' would be a fine place to start in which to get their house of hatred in order.

Even Michaels own children were not below the press's snake-like standards of ethics in being attacked. They constantly made out he was making them weird or crazy for making them wear masks in public. They even alluded he made them wear them in private.

What an awesome masterstoke and and an act of loving father he was to make them wear those masks though. In reality, wearing those masks, far from making them insular, inward and weird - it gave them freedom to live NORMAL lives!

The children have spoken in the two years since their father was killed of being able to come to London by themselves and walk down the main shopping streets, happily and with no fear of being surrounded by the public or the paparazzi. Why? Quite simply, no one knew what Michael's children looked like! In a world of a frenzied media, what a fabulous father that far from sacrificing his childrens childhoods, it turned out he was actually providing them with as normal, balanced and loving one that he sadly didnt fully get himself.

In the Dr Conrad Murray trial, the outcome whatever it may be is pretty irrevelent as it wont bring Michael back or unsully his reputation or good name. Mud sadly sticks, even if the one who was being used as the target was wearing a white shirt. The possible sentence even if Murray is found guilty is a pathetic 4 years, where in reality he will do much less, some say maybe a year.

I have always believed in American justice and believed that the sentences handed down reflected the crime, but if this one turns out to be true, then sadly we as a global family have descended even further down the path where taking a life (even if not intentionally) doesnt mean much at all.

I will personally reflect upon the wealth of hope Michael brought into the world, and I for one, want to say thankyou for all the happiness he personally provided me, the joy he provided through his songs and to say a thankyou to his dear mum for bringing a wonderful son into our world. My prayers are with everyone of an honest and good heart.

October 2011

22nd

I played golf today. It was so good to just get out on the course again. It was beautiful weather, we arrived late afternoon, and with the sun setting over the fields as we were hitting our final balls, it was just a lovely atmosphere. Whilst there I was told about a once a year event they hold where you can play night-golf with glow-in-the-dark balls, and the fairways lit like an airport runway! Its in about 4 weeks, so should be good. I’ve also got a sea-fishing competition in about 3 weeks, so am looking forward to that also.

A couple of funny things happened whilst on the course that were quite interesting. Whilst on the 7th, I’ve never seen such a low flying small passenger plane; you could actually see its undercarriage! it must’ve been less than a thousand feet, or felt like it. Then further on, someone must’ve released a homemade rocket, the smoke it kicked out as it travelled skywards was immense (there’s been a lot in the gadget magazines about making your own object in which you place a camera to take photos of the earth before it falls back to earth enabling you to collect the images.

The original person used a balloon, which popped when it got to a certain altitude. The images he got were awesome, maybe this rocket was a similar experiment, I’m not sure. Shortly afterwards a myriad of lit Chinese-lantern type objects floated merrily upwards before fanning out and drifting ever higher. All quite surreal but quite cool too.

Teens capture images of spaces with £56 camera and balloon

Father captures pictures of earth using camera fixed to weather balloon

12th

Recently returned from travelling through Italy, Slovenia and Austria. Had a really fabulous time.

September 2011

1st

There was a story in the press today showing again how the cancer-stick industry shows its arrogance and still possesses no hint of respect for people.

The only thing more repugnant than the death-dealing chemicals and smell contained within this industry's products are the attitudes of the Chief Executives at the top. With a brazen and deplorable malevolent spirit, the owners of the company (who you can be confidently sure don't partake of their own products for fear of ruining their or their own family's health - just like the MD's of the fast food industry companies), try and gain access to the habits of young British smokers. Why do you think this is? Could it be that the tobacco companies wish to earnestly help these young smokers quit and by doing so make their industry go out of business?, Or could it be in addition to just targeting individual youngsters, this information will actually establish and find out new ways of how their products could seem more acceptable and enticing to youthful ones.

Just think for a moment of the 27.2 billion  turnover this company makes a year - a YEAR!

Every penny of this grotesque amount, brings their own customers one step closer to major health problems. And this is the problem for the tobacco industry, in light of bans on their seductive and 'cool' advertising campaigns, and with an increasingly older population realising the error of their youthful ways (ask any smoker when they started, and you will always get that it was when they were young. You don't find many smokers getting past the peer pressure of youth and taking it up voluntarily when their older, well not usually!) and either quitting or sadly dieing from a tobacco related illness. The Industry needs a constant yearly new supply of young impressionable people to sign up on their yellow-stained books.

For some reason many people still don't view the tabacco industry in the same light as drug peddlers. They are. Pure and simple. A disgusting industry that deserves to be completely eradicated. I know alot of people smoke for their own enjoyment and they are fully aware of the risks, this is fine. Everyone should have the free-will and freedom to partake in any activities which they are conscious of the risks. It states hypocritically on the Industry's own packaging as a warning to it's addicted customers - 'Don't let children breathe your smoke' - and yet with a billion dollar fortune each year to be made they, they hunt down and promote their products to young children, usually infiltrating the innocent, impoverished neighbourhoods of countries (in particularly developing nations) aboard and thus infecting those young lives with their own brightly branded form of health abuse. Like faece-covered sewer rats in an Armani suit, they are so arrogantly confident their customers are hooked onto their products, they didn't have no problem when the government brought in the rule that their packets had to display health warnings. It always amazes no matter how time I see the blanket of cigarettes behind my local newsagents front-desk, proudly displaying their 'SMOKING KILLS' badges. When you stop and think just how acceptable it is to smoke nowadays you can see what a great job the Industry has done over the years.  It is a sad fact that the vast majority of people that have gone onto be hooked by the grip of illegal drugs started off naturally smoking tobacco. I have painfully lost friends who due to their own lack of willpower in quitting, have slowly over time been enticed through the habit of tobacco onto harder drugs and beyond.

I genuinely love people, male, female, young or old, black, white or purple and it hurts my heart when I meet people literally killing themselves for an Industry that simply views them as a disposable asset. And that is why the Industry are always searching, always seeking, for new ones, impressionable ones who buy into their favourite movie or pop star puffing on a crafty cigarette, and want to emulate them.

If you are a young one , I'd urge you never to start smoking in the first place. It will set you on a road to nowhere apart from a future health life of misery. As regards Drugs in general, never be fooled, they are never cool or should be looked upon that without them you wont have a good time, remember the dealers that would sell to you, don't use, and if they do, it will definately not be as much as they want to give to you. Drug dealers are cowards, sick individuals who prey on the misery and vulnerability of others. As the ads in my local arcades always used to say and very aptly -Drugs are for losers'.

Exclusive: Smoked out: tabacco giant's war on science

Philip Morris seeks to force university to hand over confidential health research into teenage smokers

By Steve Connor, Science Editor (i Newspaper)

Thursday, 1 September 2011

The world's largest tobacco company is attempting to gain access to confidential information about British teenagers' smoking habits.

Philip Morris International, the maker of Marlboro cigarettes, is seeking to force a British university to reveal full details of its research involving confidential interviews with thousands of children aged between 11 and 16 about their attitudes towards smoking and cigarette packaging.

The demands from the tobacco company, made using the UK's Freedom of Information law, have coincided with an internet hate campaign targeted at university researchers involved in smoking studies.

One of the academics has received anonymous abusive phone calls at her home at night. She believes they are prompted by an organised campaign by the tobacco industry to discredit her work, although there is no evidence that the cigarette companies are directly responsible. Philip Morris says it has a "legitimate interest" in the information, but researchers at Stirling University say that handing over highly sensitive data would be a gross breach of confidence that could jeopardise future studies.

The researchers also believe that the requests are having a chilling effect on co-operation with other academics who fear that sharing their own unpublished data with Stirling will lead to it being handed over to the tobacco industry.

Philip Morris International made its first Freedom of Information (FOI) request anonymously through a London law firm in September 2009. However, the Information Commissioner rejected the request on the grounds that that law firm, Clifford Chance, had to name its client.

Philip Morris then put in two further FOI requests under its own name seeking all of the raw data on which Stirling's Institute for Social Marketing has based its many studies on smoking knowledge, attitudes and behaviour in children and adults.

"They wanted everything we had ever done on this," said Professor Gerard Hastings, the institute's director.

"These are confidential comments about how youngsters feel about tobacco marketing. This is the sort of research that would get a tobacco company into trouble if it did it itself." Professor Hastings added: "What is more, these kids have been reassured that only bona fide researchers will have access to their data. No way can Philip Morris fit into that definition."

The information is anonymised and cannot be traced back to the interviewees. Philip Morris told The Independent that it is not seeking private information on named individuals.

"As provided by the FOI Act, confidential and private information concerning individuals should not be disclosed," said Anne Edwards, director of external communications at Philip Morris. "We made the request in order to understand more about a research project conducted by the University of Stirling on plain packaging for cigarettes."

Stirling University is part of the UK Centre for Tobacco Control Studies, a network of nine universities, and is considered one of the premier research institutes for investigating smoking behaviour. Its Institute for Social Marketing receives funding from the Department of Health as well as leading charities and its research findings have been used as evidence to support anti-smoking legislation.

Cancer Research UK funded the Stirling research into the smoking behaviour of British teenagers in order to answer basic questions about why 85 per cent of adult smokers started smoking when they were children. The researchers at Stirling have built up an extensive database of interviews with 5,500 teenagers to analyse their attitudes to cigarette marketing, packaging and shop displays. "It is a big dataset now because we've been in the field several times talking to between 1,000 and 2,000 young people each time – going down to the age of 11 and up to the age of 16," Professor Hastings said. "These kids are often saying things they don't want their parents to know. It's very sensitive."

Asked what would happen if he lost the fight against Philip Morris, Professor Hastings said: "It would be catastrophic. I don't think that's an outcome I would like to contemplate. It is morally repugnant to give data confidentially shared with us by children to an industry that is so rapacious."

Linda Bauld, professor of socio-management at Stirling, said that other universities in Britain and abroad are following the case with trepidation: "Our colleagues in the community... will not be willing necessarily to hand over information."

Stirling's Institute for Social Marketing consists of 15 full-time researchers and operates with an annual staff budget of £650,000. Philip Morris International employs 78,000 people and has an annual turnover of £27.2bn.

Professor Hastings said that Philip Morris's demands have taken up large amounts of time and resources, diverting his department's attention from its primary role of investigating smoking behaviour. "We have spent a lot of time on this. A research unit like ours simply can't afford this," he said. "But for me the crux is the trust we have with young people. How easy will it be for us to get co-operation from young people in the future?

"Our funders will have to think carefully about the further funding of our research. I don't think for one moment a cancer charity is going to take kindly to paying us hundreds of thousands of pounds to give aid and succour to a multinational tobacco corporation."

The researchers: Academics find that research into smoking can seriously damage their peace of mind

Academics studying the smoking behaviour of British teenagers and adults have found themselves to be the targets of vitriolic attacks by the pro-smoking lobby.

University researchers have been sent hate emails and some have even received anonymous phone calls, which usually come after a series of blogs posted on pro-smoking websites, including at least one which is linked to the tobacco industry.

Linda Bauld, professor of socio-management at Stirling University's Institute for Social Marketing, says she was unprepared for the scale of the personal attacks aimed at discrediting her work on smoking behaviour and anti-smoking legislation.

"I've had a series of anonymous calls starting about a year ago," Professor Bauld said. "These are phone calls in the evening when I'm at home with my children. It's an unpleasant experience.

"It's happened six or seven times and it's always an unknown number. It's usually after stuff has been posted on one of the main smokers' websites.

"They don't leave their name, they just say things like 'Keep taking the money', and 'Who are you to try to intervene in other peoples' lives', using a couple of profanities."

Professor Bauld has not reported the calls to the police but intends to be more discreet about the availability of her number. There is no evidence to suggest that tobacco companies are directly responsible for the anonymous phone calls. However, Professor Bauld has been identified as a legitimate target for criticism by Big Tobacco following her high-profile work on cigarettes and the impact of smoking bans. Her report for the Department of Health last March on the smoking ban in England found that there had been positive benefits to health and no evidence of any obvious negative impact on the hospitality industry, as the tobacco industry has repeatedly claimed.

Imperial Tobacco, the biggest cigarette company in Britain and makers of the best-selling Lambert & Butler brand, responded to Professor Bauld's report with its own review, called The Bauld Truth. This report, which took just a few weeks to write, claimed that Professor Bauld's study, conducted over three years, was "lazy and deliberately selective". It claimed that she used "flawed evidence and failed to validate her findings".

Professor Bauld said such personalised attacks were nothing new. Big Tobacco has a long history of aggressively dismissing scientific evidence linking smoking to ill health, she said. "These... are heavily peer-reviewed at every stage. Their methods are robust, whereas the evidence [the tobacco companies] draw on are not well-conducted studies," Professor Bauld said.

June 2011

21st

Just returned from a sunshine break in Fethiye, Southern Turkey. It was beautiful.

May 2011

17th

Just returned from a break in the wonderful city of lights aka Paris.

April 2011

24th

Ive just come back from spending a lovely time in the landscape that is Cornwall. Wonderful times, adventures and  company.

March 2011

12th

In a world where the term 'hero' is hideously overused, it was refreshing to view someone today who correctly fitted all the criteria of this term. Brave, courageous, potentially self-sacrificing to save the lives of others, and proberly just a nice guy too. 

February 2011

13th

Have you ever visited a circus? They're great aren't they, places of fun, daring human acts and adorable animals doing tricks, which you are led to believe are having as much of a good time as you are.

Or that is what you're meant to believe. ask no questions, pay your money and take your seat (preferably in the expensive front row). 

Unfortunately, as much of an animal lover as I am, I have always believed naively that the animals best interests were taken care off and they were only doing acts which they naturally had an aptitude to do. When I think about it now, It was just so silly and stupid of me to believe this way of thinking.

I came across various pieces of information today about the true inner workings of a Circus, and far from being a place of fun for the animals they parade out in front of us, they are nothing more than a prison torture camp where animals are brought up from an early age to be abused. And all in the name of satisfying a paying crowd to see an animal  do 'tricks'. 

I attach just one example of the animal cruelty that goes on in the world of circuses, all in the name of providing us with entertainment.

Ringling Bros 'The Greatest Show on Earth! aka 'The Saddest Show on Earth'!

Another one of the acts of cruelty that is close to my heart is that of the Santorini Donkeys. Nothing more than glorified animal taxis for lazy tourists who cant make it to the top of the hills under their own steam. I would urge your conscience if you ever are in this part of the world or anywhere else that use animals in this way, to exercise your own legs and ability to sleep soundly at night, rather than the legs of these poor creatures.

Santorini Donkey Cruelty - The Donkey Sanctuary

Donkey Cruelty - Daily Express Investigation

I will never again visit a Circus which has animals, and if you have a heart, I'm sure you will feel the same. I would even urge you as well to write to whatever animal protection group exists in your country to show your support to stop this barbaric and unnecessary cruelty to animals. As in most corrupt things in life, the perpetrators only carry the crimes out if they have an eager audience to supply to. No audience, no revenue, crime stops greatly.

If we as a race are the pinnacle of an evolutionary process as some believe, you can see why the theory is so badly flawed. With the continued devastation caused by humans to not only our beautiful planet but also to our fellow creatures, the future for all of us if left solely for men to sort out is a truly frightening one indeed.

9th

Is it a bird, is it a plane...no its Supergran! some years ago there used to be a TV series about a granny who possesses superpowers, it was a great show, with a fun theme tune sung by Billy Connolly.

Today there was the story of a pensioner in her 70's who single handingly decided to take on six sledgehammer wielding thugs who were robbing a jewellery store in Northampton.

Dressed in the colours of Superman, the spritely Ann Timson swung literally into action, brandishing her handbag as if it was a fully paid up member of the superheroes R us society. 

Other shoppers witnessing the attack came to her aid only after she had fended the masked criminals off, but they bravely managed to detain one of the robbers after after he ineptly fell off his escape bike. The rest of the robbers managed to escape, but three were arrested shortly afterwards.

A real heartwarming story, where the 20th Cen. paraphrase of Edmund Burke 'All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing', definitely was answered by our very own real-life Supergran.

8th

There was a wonderful story today about a man who finds out that his partner is the same girl whose message in a bottle he found on an Argyll beach in 1981.

Richard Morwood like any 6year old youngster upon finding a note in a bottle, decided to write back to the address on the note saying he had found the bottle. The person who had had dispatched the note 2 years previously from the Isle of Arran, was a 13 year old girl called Mandy English. In the note she simply asked for a penpal.

Little did he know that 30 years later and after an amazing sequence of coincedences, he would meet and end up falling in love with her.

Upon receiving Richards postcard, Mandy decided to not reply due to the age difference.

30 years later and upon doing a house clearance, Mandy stumbled across the postcard from all those years ago and spotted that the name of the card was also that of her boyfriend of 7 months. The couple then realised their astounding unknown history.

Richard who moved to Hull in 2003 and met Mandy by complete chance, recalls that "When Mandy asked if I remembered sending a postcard, I said I had a vague recollection of finding the message, then my mum coaxing me into writing back.

"I couldn't believe it when Mandy told me she was the one who had put the message in the bottle. It's bizarre.We definitely think fate brought us together. The most amazing thing is that in 1981 I signed off 'Love Richard' - and, now she's my girlfriend, I really do love her."

Mandy, who is now a mum of three and 44 years old leads on "It was amazing. I then realised he was the little lad who sent me that lovely postcard all those years ago. I was so shocked I nearly passed out. It's not like we've lived all our lives near each other. We grew up hundreds of miles apart."

Richards postcard which had an image of the Isle of Arran on it and still had the 11 1/2p stamp attached, had the simple words "Dear Mandy I found your letter in the bottle at Skipness, Mull of Kintyre near where the boat comes in from Lochranza last week when I was on holiday at Carradale.
I am 6 years old. Love Richard."

Mandy completes this amazing tale of lost and found love by saying "I thought about writing back, but he was a lot younger than me so I didn't. I completely forgot about him and only kept the card because I like to collect them. Then this happened!"

I think this is such a marvellous story, we've all I suppose dreamed of finding a washed up note in a bottle, and for this story to end so happily is truly a joy to know.

I love seeing people in wonderful relationships and perfectly content that they would not want to be with anyone else.

Most mornings when I drive past our local train station, I see an elderly couple who are making their way to the station, always hand in hand. They are always beautifully dressed and the closeness of their love for one another is plain for all to see. It makes my heart smile every day I see them. After all the years they have spent together, they are still in love. What a beautiful thing! and something many people can appreciate and aspire to.

Seeing a man and woman hand in hand as nature intended is truly a beautiful sight and being able to maintain a stable and happy relationship for any amount of years, is a lesson that we can all learn from, especially so in what is frequently a disposable world. 

1st

I heard today that there are plans afoot by some governments in the world who are working upon the very real possibility of suppressing free and open speech on the internet – they are codenaming it a ‘killswitch’.

This ‘killswitch’ which effectively shuts down the whole working internet, will be called upon at any time a government feels information being put upon it is harmful or not conducive to its own aims or interests. In a form of government dream state it must sound wonderful to finally have the power to be able to suppress any real ideas or criticisms that its subjects may voice. In reality, it sounds like using a wrecking ball to crack open a walnut.

Sure, there are cases where the internet is misused from simply being an information highway, but the vast majority of the users rely on it solely for researching, having fun, and sharing ideas with others.

More questions though raise their heads than answers squashed. Who makes the decisions on what is acceptable to discuss openly and freely amongst the worlds citizens? Will there be unanimous agreement amongst nations for this to work? Will other governments be led into adopting this same stance? What will happen to those perceived having an open mind and freely expressing their thoughts, ideals, hopes and criticisms? What prompted this dictatorial admonishm? Will this suppressing of free speech be extended to all other forms of being alive including expressing yourself in a public place?

It all sounds very much Orwellian and grotesquely similar to groups in our history who were violently opposed to their citizens and other countries having views or ideals that did not match with their own.

Sadly the internet is the only channel of communication left open to the public which can be used for the greater good and where you can drill down into a subject within the media to find out the truth. I would urge you to cross check everything you are told or hear in the ‘news’, never take headlines or prominent news stories as oath, by doing so, you will not only frequently get further information of an unbiased nature but also realise that not everything we are being told is accurate.

Sadly many journalists have lost their impartiality and reporting nuance to uncover and report an accurate piece. It makes me smile when I hear many people stating quite emphatically that they would never read such-and-such paper as it is either too high or low brow for them. What many people don’t realise is that the media is owned. Most papers even though they may report news in a more common or so called intellectual language, the ‘message’ is the same. The editorials of these on-the-surface separate publications have mainly the same owners and as such all could be likened to being played like puppets on a string. If the money men at the top of the tree want a certain type of message conveyed to the masses, they will get it across albeit in different forms of flowery language.

We have also mainly lost all unbiased reporting from our TV screens and the news channels, where frequently the same people who own the papers have their fingers in the expansive pie that is the terrestrial network.

What these two mediums (TV and Written word) both have in common is that they work upon the maxim of ‘Today’s news is tomorrow’s fish and chip paper’. Quite simply what ‘they’ want you to know at that time they will tell you, anything that would harm their own self interests or those of their elitist friends, they will filter out or report in a very minor way.

The term ‘a good day to bury bad news’ was aptly chosen by those who had something to hide because they could legally get their piece of information out in the public domain, whilst also being content in the knowledge that the public's attention would be distracted long enough by another highly reported story.

The internet is different in that the information is ‘still’ there, always ready to be viewed, researched and digested. Unlike the papers or TV channels where it is conveniently lost. The media relies on this conveyor belt of information. Remind yourself of when the media reports a falsehood, splashed all other the front pages, playing to peoples hunger and thirst for gossip. When the media has garnered enough financial reward for this misinformation and sometimes with the threat of legal action against them for their biased reporting, they grudgingly offer an apology. But where should you expect this admission of guilt to be? the exact high profile front pages of course, but alas no, they are allowed to offer a few insincere lines of small font, pages back into their publications.

We should all not forget how precious and important free speech really is. Courageous and good people have literally given their lives so that we may speak freely and that truths may prevail in the world.

As Martin Luther King profoundly said, ‘Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter’.

January 2011

21st

15th

Putting the final touch’s to a few travel itineraries I have planned to do this year. I’m first of all staying in the wonderful place that is Cornwall, the location is near Polperro and the accommodation is an original miner’s cottage. I have stayed in the area a number of times before and it never fails to entice me back and make my stay both refreshing, adventurous and unique each time.

I’ve then got a long weekend in Paris with various sights to experience, including visits to Versailles and the Catacombs.

I’m then travelling onto SW Turkey to the region of Dalyan. I’ve put a Jeep Safari, exploring the valley of Saklikent and swimming in the waters of Oludeniz (aka The Blue Lagoon) on the top of the list. I’ve also fitted some space into view the Lycian Rock Tombs, feed the turtles, trek some of the Lycian Way, take in the atmosphere of the deserted town of Kayakoy, get lost in the many colourful markets, and hopefully do a scuba dive and parasail. Should be a fun escapade with time to relax and also satisfy the exploration bug in equal measure.

Later on in the year I’m hoping to visit a place I’ve wanted to explore for as long as I’ve had the desire to travel :- Tokyo. The land of Sake, Karaoke, Temples, beautiful Gardens, bustling night time markets, unusual food, neon-lights, Technology filled treasure troves, friendly people, blossom trees, onsen (hot springs) and roten-buro (open-air baths), bullet trains and Mt Fuji. I want to experience it all, I want to get lost in the maze of streets at night and take in the customs of the day. I want to try and have a go at the language, proberly fail but have fun whilst doing it. I want to enjoy the pleasure of having got myself around when confronted by some of the most bewildering signs I’ve ever come across. In short, I want to experience everything and anything that I come across.

I will be staying in the same Capsule Hotel that Michael Palin stayed in whilst passing through on his ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’ adventure. Michael was one of my initial inspirations of becoming a traveller. A warm, hospitable, open-minded and truly adventurous individual who I admired and still do so very much. After seeing him on TV all those years ago, spending nights in that Capsule embed in me a love for the unusual when I initially started travelling, and that feeling of searching out the hidden gems of a particular place, exploring the hidden corners off the beaten track, and reaching under the covers to see what lies there, hasn’t left me since.

8th

There has been alot of talk over recent times of the need to return to embracing nuclear energy. If you had been born on a different planet and had just floated down on a silver cloud you could be forgiven that this technology is the energy dream of mankind, clean, safe and efficient. You would be immensely surprised why every land isn't immediately constructing a nuclear power station in every town, its the future isn't it?

One word - Chernobyl! I grew up being all too graphically reminded of what this 'safe' energy source can do to mankind when it decides to malfunction. I remember writing essays and drawing pictures at school on the harmful effects of this technology, and being told that in the future we must never be in a position to become dependent on it. Oh how times tend to turn full circle on themselves.

Upon my travels last year I visited the Ukraine and made an effort to visit the Chernobyl museum, it was absolutely heartbreaking but something which had to be experienced to fully appreciate the scale of the tragedy. I am of the firm belief that those ones in society who try to play down or degrade the severity of what happened in that small part of our world and the effects felt and continuing to be exist, should be given a one way ticket to the area and only return home when they realise that the view they hold onto is so hopelessly out of date. I had lunch in a nearby restaurant where half of the menu was highlighted as being taken at your risk as milk and animal products couldn't 100% be classed as outside the safety exclusion zone! The Ukrainians are a welcoming, friendly and brave people and should be treated with respect with what they have had to and continue to endure.

Also we have the matter of that man can wrap himself up in his own perceived grandness and can create a power so great that if anything goes wrong, he hasn't a clue to how to solve the problem.

The difficulty of waste disposal was not even considered to be a big problem during the time when power plants were first introduced; it was assumed that waste could be recycled or buried. Unfortunately, finding safe ways of storing radioactive wastes so that they didn't leak radiation into the environment has proved to be a much more difficult task than anticipated.

According to various reports, it can take millions years for radioactive waste to decay to background levels. So, presently, the only solution is to store the waste in a place so that the environment won't be contaminated. The problem with storing nuclear waste is both political as well as technological though. In terms of politics, no one wants it stored near them. And here lies the rub, we have history repeating itself by men in white coats and government officials advising us all is safe, but in reality as  all nations greedily consume the energy provided, they refuse to have the problem of the expended waste in their own back yard!

I can forsee major future problems if we as a global family embark again on technology that is still far away as possible from being considered safe.

7th

Have you ever met someone whose honesty is not only refreshing but also uplifting? Someone who through their sheer decency of good spirit to admit when they’ve made a mistake and apologise for it, makes you feel like improving on your own personality too? It’s beautiful isn’t it? It takes courage, bravery and also humility to admit for ones wrongs and to say sorry. In short it makes you a bigger person if you can recognise things you have done wrong, admit your failings, and then work out a solution on how to fix things, and take responsibility to improve and not make the same mistake again.

It’s all about personal responsibility and taking charge for our own achievements when we do good in life and also those times when we sometimes do bad.

In doing so we not only gain the respect of others but more importantly we gain the respect of ourselves.

There was a story recently of someone who epitomises everything that is wrong with the compensation culture we have today, and also with people who refuse to take responsibility for themselves and believe that others should automatically look after them on benefits.

It was of the case of a former postman man called Paul Mason, who at one time claimed the morally dubious title of the ‘world’s fattest man’ after hitting the 70st mark. Due to gastric bypass surgery he now has slimmed down to what is still a hefty 37st. He claims that due to a poor relationship experience in his youth, he turned to comfort eating and pretty much didn’t stop. He claimed that his ‘condition’ made it impossible for him not to stop gorging himself on food and he was just like an innocent bystander helplessly watching from the sidelines, he simply couldn’t do anything! When I heard this I seemed to remember the details of this man from some years ago, my recollection was a little different to the story that has been floated to the media with the obvious intention of making this man the victim instead of the villain of the piece. I seem to remember that one of the sole motivating forces behind this mans intentional and astronomically expanding waistline was not of a young mans helpless broken heart, but his desire to actually earn the prestige of becoming a record breaker for turning himself into the world’s largest living human.

After not working since he was 35, for the past 15 years he has been satisfying himself on the generosity of genuine hardworking and tax paying individuals. It is estimated that his ‘care’ has cost an incredible 1 million pounds. Yes that’s 1 million pounds for just looking after one individual for a disability that is wholly self afflicted and was completely avoidable. It is said that he is now, with breathtakingly arrogance and cheek, going to sue the NHS for allowing him to get to the size he is. Just think for a moment of all the people and sincere causes that money could’ve been spent on. Actual ones who through no fault of their own either fell on hard times or developed a real and life threatening illness. We all know ones who are suffering either genuine physical or mental anguish and when you hear of the cutbacks and that treatment for them is either postponed or cancelled due to financial difficulties, it can only make your heart weep for these innocent cases and burn for those who selfishly not only take the time, but resources of our dedicated health service.

This gentleman has been wheelchair bound for many years, and yet has a daily calorie intake of 20,000 calories (the average man has 2,500). Who is feeding him? Does he have no friends or loved ones who care for his well-being and can give him emotional counsel? If he is genuinely saying that he couldn’t help himself and he couldn’t prevent his own actions how can he expect someone else to be able to? If the GP he initially went to in 1996 allegedly didn’t provide any other counsel than ‘Ride your bike more’, and he REALLY wanted to gain help, why didn’t he take the initiative to go elsewhere and ask for a second opinion? When does he envisage getting a job and in his words going to be ‘putting something back into society’?

Questions, questions, questions and sadly all can only be answered by Mr Mason himself, the answers though you suspect can be quite easily guessed at by any reasonably minded person.

There are many genuine people who unfortunately turn to comfort eating either through shyness, stress, insecurity or whose need is brought on by some physiological or emotional condition. Quite simply usually when someone is picked on because of their weight, they will then turn to the very thing which is causing them torment but also brings relief – food. They comfort eat but this in turn brings the problem full circle. People in this world of ours can be cruel, but even then it’s worth remembering that usually the people being the most unkind have the biggest insecurities. We should all treat each other as one family, and I do feel tremendously sorry for anyone who is going through any kind of anguish be it either in body or mind. We all quite simply need love, if any of these true people want any support, they should receive it. The first step of getting better in any illness is admitting you’ve got a problem; the second is being open and asking for it. Unfortunately when you have such people like Mr Mason in this world hiding behind a real and debilitating problem, but in reality has no such thing, just a self-absorbed opinion of themselves, it potentially diverts help away from those in most need of it.

Life is such a gift, for sure times can be hard and for some a daily struggle. But in reality being alive on this planet is a very special thing indeed. Everyone is a champion of sorts and has won the ultimate race in life. I always like to think of the following example to put things into perspective : At the moment of procreation, you had a one in 250 million chance of taking refuge in your mother’s egg, and you won, I think that is kinda incredible. Think for a moment if you were in a swimming contest from one side of the channel to the other, the sea is churning with not just thousands of other people but millions and then the starter’s gun is fired. After bumping shoulders, flailing arms and sheer determination and grit you manage to wash up on the shore first, 21 miles and you beat 250 million fellow human beings, what an accolade! Everyone on this planet should be proud of themselves for getting to the finishing line first, but also there is a bittersweet moment in all of this, because for any of us to live, all of our potential brothers and sisters had to perish. That, when you think about it is an awesome responsibility, not to just live and do well for ourselves but for the loved ones lost, and when you contemplate it, it should make us want to experience, enjoy and live to the full as much as we can.

Life is precious, enjoy it and it is why my heart is saddened when I see people abusing their bodies in a myriad of harmful ways but also ecstatically happy when I see and know many wonderful people living life to the full.

5th 

I heard a disturbing statistic today that afflicts the world of music. It is said that out of every one billion digital downloads, 750,000 or three quarters of them are illegal!

With this knowledge in mind, you can easily see why certain large music stores are sadly struggling to survive. For sure, some of the sales are being taken away by the larger supermarkets who offer low-cost deals, but just seeing this statistic brings home to you the scale of fraud that is common place today.

I feel that music shops are a special case when it comes to our retail heritage. I think that there is a strong argument that even if you can buy a CD or DVD cheaper in a supermarket, is it really the best option? In my opinion, not always so. For example, the service you get from a dedicated and experienced member of staff in a specialist music shop can simply not be matched elsewhere. The help, after sales assistance, camaraderie and ability to order rare, deleted or simply unique or imported items are all qualities that identify a good place to shop. The simple ability to just browse and sometimes listen to music before you buy is a real pleasure. I think it will be a real shame if our dedicated music shops disappear altogether, especially the unique independents.

My own musical palette is very colourful and I can find joy in an endless genre of styles. There is literally music for every mood and time of day.

Every generation is defined by the sound and vibe that was produced within it. Music is simply one of the most powerful emotive tools we can use, just as a smell or a taste can instantly take you back to a certain place and time. Hearing a piece of music can transport you both mentally and emotionally to a place of both reflection and happiness.

When it comes down to the question of whether or not I would pay any money to own music I enjoy, I feel personally it’s an insult to the creativity of the artist and their future endeavours if I don’t show my appreciation by buying their goods. Illegal downloaded copies just don’t cut it. I love the feeling of holding the genuine article and having all the official accompanying booklets and materials that come with an official purchase. If I have waited eagerly for a product to be released, I don’t feel £10 or so is extortionate for the amount of hours I would enjoy by losing myself within its melodies.

It’s a simple but obvious fact but, if artists don’t get paid they can’t produce anymore of the products that we love so much! It never ceases to amaze me that those ones who do not pay for the joy they consume, are some of the most vocal when it comes to discussing what they feel should be in the next release from that particular artist. In amongst the general lack of ideals they would possess, I don’t doubt that the rule of how a business works is also lost upon them. Quite simply – Artist creates product, customer purchases product, Artist reinvests some of the money into future projects and the cycle happily continues. If you take out the cog that is the customer’s financial participation, then the whole machine collapses.

Unfortunately the same narrow-minded viewpoints, affect other strands of the entertainment industry including videogames and movies.

Piracy is a curse! Sometimes commonly so. I think sometimes we can justify to ourselves that just because a boot sale DVD is cheap; it’s okay to purchase it. I have immense compassion for those who find it maybe too expensive to take their family to the cinema, and they feel the only way is to buy a pirated copy. I would personally though rather save up and experience one film, as it’s meant to be seen on the big screen than live with myself knowing I haven’t contributed anything to the filmmaker’s future endeavours. I would rather simply just wait for a few months until the film comes out on disc at my local video shop. By not resisting the urge to succumb to the lure of seeing a film early, the only ones you will be supporting are the criminals who share zero values with the artists themselves.

Pirate DVD sellers are well known to, directly or indirectly, have their tainted hands in other criminal activities as well as cheating the entertainment industry out of a much deserved source of revenue. Illegal and hideous activities including prostitution and drugs are cornerstones of the criminal web of corruption and strife. Criminals are quite simply the parasitic enemy of a healthy community. By eroding good traditional principles over time and sometimes having a media which glorifies ones who step outside the simple laws of decency, we could all almost be forgiven for being conditioned to be accepting of almost anything nowadays. Even now today, we as a society have a tendency to use the fuzzy almost loveable-rogue term ‘Pirate’ too often when it comes to real life criminals.

Pirates! What does the name conjure up to you? Peg-legs, Parrots, Barrels of gold, Jack Sparrow and Rum possibly. A band of light-hearted, free spirited, life-loving individuals who live for the adventure in life. Sadly, these mythical facets of a band of brothers are pure fantasy.

We live in a world, where in reality, armed thugs will hijack a boat or ship, threaten to kill and sometimes do the crew and yet are classed with the affectionate sounding name ‘Pirates’. It’s the same with other criminal monikers as well. It’s almost as if the offender is treated more compassionately than the victim sometimes. The terms ‘Joyriding’ and ‘Happy slapping’ conjure up images that the experience is a pleasure for all those involved. Is it? Of course not. The terms should be scrapped and more harsher, realistic terms should replace them which reflect the personalities of those heinous enough to carry them out. Just as a building needs firm, strong foundations to continue to stand. Likewise, to build a good society, you have to have laws that distinguish clearly what is right or wrong. We all do have an inbuilt conscience and moral compass, but sadly it seems many people’s are whirling around like a windmill!

Theft, be it in a personal, public or commercial form is a devastating time for the innocent ones who it affects. When I was a little kid and learning about the adult world around me, I heard many times from some people in society that thieving someone else’s property does no real harm to anyone. That in a sense as long as you’ve got insurance, the only person it REALLY affects is the insurance company itself. As I grew older and experienced first hand myself, the emotions of having your precious items taken from you, I realised that far apart from the loss of your sometimes sentimental and irreplaceable goods, the violation of having had someone you don’t know in your home is a horrible feeling to contend with. Also, as regards the insurance company purely carrying the burden of the financial cost, it’s totally not true. Everyone who owns an insurance policy of any kind feels the effect of theft, in the way their payment premiums dramatically increase.

When it comes to public thefts, I feel some of the most heartbreaking are those that happen at museums and galleries. Places where precious works of art and artefacts should be enjoyed by all. Time and again, you will hear reports of a countries heritage being pilfered away ultimately depriving the whole nation of their history.

One of the saddest and most poignant thefts that affected the art world was the case of the Boston Masterpieces, and it was as memorable as much for what was left behind as much as what was stolen.

Shortly after midnight of 18 March, 1990, thieves disguised as policeman talked their way into the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston, Massachusetts. After tying up the two on-duty security guards, they proceeded to steal 13 works of art that have been valued at over $500 million, the biggest art theft – and property theft – in history. The works included pieces such as The Concert (Johannes Vermeer’s), three paintings by Rembrandt Van Rijn (including his only seascape – The Storm on the Sea of Galilee and a small self-portrait) and several drawings by Edgar Degas and additional works by Edouard Manet and Govaert Flinck, as well as two objects, a Chinese Ku (or Beaker), and a finial from a Napoleonic flag.

After a thorough and wide-ranging investigation, and even though a $5 million reward is still on offer the pieces have never been found, the case is still left open to this day. If you visit the Gardner Museum today and enter the hall where the works were originally located, you will be met by not only a solemn silence, but the unmistakeable faded outlines on the walls where the paintings once hung. It’s almost as if the walls are waiting for their masters patiently to return home, but sadly I fear that day will not return.

You can’t beat living an honest life, no looking over your shoulder or battling with a nagging conscience. You gain the respect of others but much more importantly, yourself. The blessing of being able to lie your head down at night safe in the knowledge your living life as real as you can, brings many positive benefits, both mental and physical and that, should be sweet music to anyone’s ears.

4th

I saw a wonderful programme today all about the amazing blanket of night sky we have above us, it was a one-off 3 day special called - Stargazing LIVE.

It was hosted by a professor Brian Cox and also rather bizarrely by the comedian Dara O'Briain, I didn't know if their chemistry would come across well, but once I experienced Dara's easy going but serious love for all things astronomy, the show worked.

They really showed just how magical the stars and their home above us is. Some of the facts, as usual about the solar system, were literally out of this world and I find it still quite hard to comprehend how vast but perfectly orderly the universe is, not bad for something that just came into existence through chaos as most people like to claim.

I have always held a deep fascination with the world above us and remember the first time I looked through a telescope at the moon. If you've never done that and seen how clearly you can see details on its surface, I would heartily recommend you do. I love all the different planets and when you consider just how small an area our own enormous galaxy takes up in the vastness of space, its staggering to think about the actual size of it in its entirety.

I also think how amazing the earth is and how perfectly located it is placed in the universe so life could exist. For example, if it was just a fraction closer or further away from the sun all the water we rely on would either boil away or freeze. Its the same with the moon, apart from being a romantic symbol on a clear night, it serves much more of an important job to sustain life on earth. If it was any closer or further away, the gravitational effects on the earth would be such that it would 'wobble' uncontrollably and life would not be able to exist.

Another thing about the earth that should be inspiring to us, is that what a hard worker it is, and all for our benefit, it is always moving! It spins and rotates while travelling in a big circle around the Sun. Its orbit or path around the Sun is 583,400,000 miles long. It travels along this path at 66.000 miles-per-hour and rotates at 1000 miles per hour.

As regards the 'Big Bang', 'unintelligent life in the universe created itself' chaos theory, I think its kinda special that miraculously most people would have you believe that the Earth, Sun and Moon telepathically spoke to one another and formed themselves at precisely the same time and at exactly the right distance from each other and also able to have just the right amount of effect on each other, be it heat or gravitational pull to create the right conditions for life to come to be.

When you look at the universe as a whole, what would you agree you see. A chaotic, disorganised, completely topsy-turvy, and unpredictable space that seems to be without control or purpose? Or a place that is perfectly organised and absolutely predictable as if able to be described as running like clockwork? The predictableness is to the point that astronomers are able to say with absolute certainty to the accurate minute, when there will be full moons, eclipses and other regular astronomical happenings.

Alot of us feel we may have 'seen' the night sky, but in reality, with all of the light pollution that infects our towns and cities, what we see is really a grainy image of the spectacular images we have above our heads. I would urge you if you ever get the opportunity to visit somewhere in the world without artificial light or streetlamps, grab a hot flask, find a comfy sofa bed (or rugs on the floor will do), lie back, and drink in the view of the heavens above. I can guarantee you, that when seen in its absolute glory, it will take your breath away. 

One of the nicest experiences I have ever had being lost amongst the stars (apart from many times when I was younger camping under the stars where friends and I would lie all night, just talking, sharing stories, seeing shooting stars and just simply lying there feeling at one with our own environment and also at one with the canopy of wonder above us) was on one holiday in Greece.

My family, myself and other holidaymakers were taken out by yacht, just as the sun was setting, to an Island that was off of the mainland and completely without lights of any kind. The excursion was called rather marvelously 'Sunset and Stars'. We spent the whole evening lying on bamboo mats spread out on golden sands with the sound of the water gently teasing our ears with its ambience. Our guide was an amazing guy, very enthusiastic and knowledgeable. He positioned himself in the middle of the beach and had three enormous searchlights laid on the sand in front of him.

He entertained us and enthralled us with his tales of the ancient Greeks and how they made up the Zodiac signs that so many take seriously today. His direct astronomy information was also clear and told well. Lying there, gazing up and seeing the stars more clearly than Ive ever done before was a magical experience. As he cast his torchbeams around the inky blackness and then illuminated a star to make a point or two, it was like he was, and you could almost reach out and touch them, the emotion of being that feeling that close to the stars above was incredible and a very moving experience.

We stopped for break and satisified ourselves with an ample barbeque feast on the beach, our senses heightened by the fact that we ate by torchlight.

After resuming and partaking for many more hours of more wonderful stories from our amiable guide, he brought our time together to a close in the most beautiful way. Over left shoulders we were told to look and slowly, the light appeared at first, then it got stronger and stronger until the sun started to make it way back up into the sky to signal the start of a brand new day.

We all travelled back to our resort on our floating home, content in the knowledge of having shared a time together that was truly special. The promise of a little sleep and then out into what was another great Greek day finished off our day perfectly. 

December 2010

15th

The snow returns! The first flakes of a new winter onslaught arrived with gusto this afternoon, they seem to be alot larger than last time and the temperature seems to have dropped quite a few degrees from what we have been getting acclimatised too of late. It can only mean one thing, apart from heart-in-your-mouths car drives from now on, and that is...sledging! Hopefully there will be at least one last big snow flourish to end the year with, and all those people who had been literally banking and praying for a magical white Christmas will get their wish. Then hopefully come January temperatures will steadily creep upwards again.

14th

Just returned from Paris.

8th

I discovered a fantastic new photographer today called Cedric Pollet. For the past 10 years he's undertaken a rather unusual assignment of taking close-up shots of every tree bark in the world. He has travelled to over 30 nations and taken over 20,000 images. It does sound rather specialist and a little odd, but believe me when I say that the pictures do really work, and are all really rather beautiful.

If you was a master of painting fine-art you couldn't do better than what nature has created. The images show the vast varieties in colour, shape and texture of what is sometimes an overlooked landscape. Cedric comments that he wanted simply 'to share my passion for this magic world' and when you see the kaleidoscope of beauty he has put together you cant help feeling a little more passion of your own for this wonderful natural world we live in too.

The book is entitled - Bark: An Intimate Look at the World's Trees. You'd be 'barking' mad not to check it out :)  

5th

4th

As quickly as a shooting star mesmerises us with its sudden presence, and then dissolves away into the sky, the snow is gone! Its quite amazing really, if you had just landed upon our fair shores from some distant galaxy you would never have known the incredibly cold weather we have had over the past few days. The temperature is very much higher now, and the only signs that there was ever a drop of snow are the remains of a few hardy but extremely shrunken and lop-sided snowmen, littering a few neighbours lawns. It was fun whilst it lasted.

2nd

'No Day like a Snow Day'

I awoke to find a thick carpet of freshly laid snow covering the whole area this morning. It looked beautiful. I had heard yesterday that we were to expect around 15cms of snow overnight and was a little dubious as I had thought that here in the southeast we had pretty much escaped  the heaviest of the weather. I had gone to bed around twelve and arisen about seven but in that brief period of time, the whole 15cms and in some places more had come down.

Work was cancelled today and so I took the opportunity to spend some quality time with family and went crazy by having snowball fights and built a snowman :).

It was a little eerie walking in the roads as this year it seemed, most people had simply given up on driving as virtually no traffic was  alive apart from a few brave souls gingerly negotiating their way along the lanes, going as fast as a moonwalking snail. In most places you couldn't tell where the path started and the road ended.

Even the cats, who seem to love this time of year as you can quite happily see dozens of little footprints criss-crossing lawns and over the bonnets of vehicles, appeared surprisingly absent.

It was wonderful though, a truly winter wonderland, with the delicious sound of the fresh crunch of virgin snow underfoot. You could smell the dusky and oaky aromas of warm fireplaces puffing merrily out of long chimney-stacks and when it came to the evening, and the sunlight had faded, you were immersed in the golden glow of streetlamps that illuminated off the faintly falling snow. Like a snowy picture postcard. Magical.

November 2010

30th

29th

27th

26th

Dreams. They are really marvellous aren’t they? Incredible adventures made up by our brains to keep us amused and entertained whilst our bodies repair themselves with the aid of sleep.

I awoke from a wonderful dream today where I was living in a place literally of my dreams! It was an amalgamation of every aspect that I find both appealing and attractive. The landscapes were both familiar but also different to what I have experienced in the past. Clean, blue skies. Crisp, fresh air, and a backdrop of the most majestic and awesome snow capped mountains. Green hills, lush valleys, shimmering lakes and winding country lanes crisscrossed the vast landscape which stretched out in front of me. My home was within a friendly community of beautiful log and stone built cottages, and from our high vantage point on the top of an amazing mound (which was surrounded by the most handsome collection of different flora, fauna and ancient woodland), I could view one of the most awesome and dreamstate beaches I have ever seen in my life. Stretching away far in the distance and with crystal clear waters, golden sands and a deep azure sea for half of it and the other half was made up of a darker mixture of volcanic ash, but equally a beautiful sight. Birds glided high above, and the sea below frenzied itself into a pounding, rip-curling whirlwind of waves. Surfers were riding giant waves out in the distance and fisherman were casting their lines into the foamy depths.

I strolled around, and explored this beautiful place, went for long hikes and found many more magical places including towering waterfalls, meadows filled with the wildest of wild flowers and secret coves reminiscent of the famous five smuggling adventures. I met many wonderful and unique people and had a lovely time. Just before I woke (and sometimes it goes like that, that we get an indication within the dream that sadly it’s about to end), I noticed the old fashioned signposts which proudly declared the land’s name - ‘MERGE’. And with that I awoke. Happy, fully refreshed and hoping, like we all sometimes do, that one day in another dream my brain would allow me to return and explore this area further. Now it could’ve been my playful brain bringing different aspects of the places I’ve travelled to, weaving them all into a unique tapestry and cleverly creating a unique landscape by ‘merging’ them all together. Who knows? All I know is that it was absolutely awesome and just shows the amazing power of our brains to concoct and create whole new worlds for us to lose ourselves in.

In other dreams I have been reunited with old friends and had conversations with famous faces. Sometimes I can tell why I’ve dream't that way but usually the discussions are so unique, I awake wondering if in reality that person, if they were ever asked, would answer my questions in the same way. It feels so real at the time.

I think that’s why dreams and dreaming, even daydreaming are so fascinating to people. Your dream, though sometimes sporadic, plays out like the most finely edited movie and YOU are the star. Some people are able to fly. There are many books written on the subject and there are many so called intellectuals who, for a fat fee, would happily try and interpret and analyse your personal dream, but in reality sometimes they cant really be explained and neither should they. It’s a bit like when you tell a new joke to someone, which is indeed very funny, but they don’t just get it. Maybe it’s seen as too juvenile or they don’t easily get the punch line. They ask to be told again, and maybe ask for it to be explained to them. You find that after desperately trying to explain it or analyse it yourself in such a way to easily put the message across, the ‘moment’ of the joke is gone, and it’s just not funny anymore – not even to yourself. That’s the thing about some things in life, just enjoy them when they come into your life, lose yourself within the moment and don’t get too wrapped up in the analysation of it all.

Sadly, you never really can tell when you will start dreaming. But I have found that for me, I have a much better opportunity to dream when I'm either really tired, had a long arduous day or have exercised hard. I like to think of it as if it’s a trade-off between my mind and body between themselves. My brain kind of says ‘Look, your body’s tired and I will play you an amazing movie. It will keep you asleep long enough so your body can repair and refresh you enough for the start of a new day’. I can’t really influence what I dream or experience within them, but that’s the fun of it, I suppose, the complete randomness and spontaneity of it all. But sometimes if I've read something, seen or experienced something that particular day that’s affected me quite strongly, sometimes it might appear woven into the dream.

I remember a film that affected me very much some years ago when I was a child, and it has since turned out to be one of my favourites. I used to live near Bexleyheath and one day, as a family, we all went to the large shopping mall that is located there to do some shopping. After spending an enjoyable time exploring the shops and buying different items with my own pocket money (which mainly consisted of computer games, sweets and books) we went into the largest electrical store within the mall as my parents were looking for some new gadget or other. Whilst they were entertaining themselves with the banter of the sales assistant, I decided to stand by the TV displays and while away the time watching whatever programme was on. It was one of those times where all of TV’s were showing the same programme at the same time. I remember being immediately struck by the beauty of the lady onscreen and was transfixed by the olde worlde setting of the scenery and the dress of the characters. The lady was Jane Seymour and the film was ‘Somewhere in Time’. It was the story of a young man, played by who to me was Superman, Christopher Reeve, who goes back in time to reunite with his lost love. The story was simple but completely intriguing and whilst standing there waiting for my parents to complete their purchase, I became completely immersed within the film. Even at that early age, there was something very emotional I connected with; the music was also very beautiful.

After having to leave the shop and with the film still playing, my previous thoughts of exploring the shops more were completely lost. As we looked around a few more shops, I couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to know how the film ended. I asked my parents if we could go home, I didn’t tell them the reason at the time as I was a little embarrassed, but they very kindly finished their shopping sooner than expected and soon after, I was at home, switching the TV on and desperately hoping the film hadn’t ended. I managed to catch the ending of the film and what an emotional ending it was. Even though I was very young, I instinctively felt the feeling Reeves character goes through when he awakes from his ‘dream’, and tries desperately to get back to sleep and gain access to the world he unexpectedly and prematurely had lost connection with. The final ending where he is reunited one last time with his love was revisited again in the blockbuster film, Titanic, but for me the simple story of unrequited love between two people from different spheres and society’s was much purer in ‘Somewhere in Time’.

Over the years, I’ve had dreams like this myself, where I have awoken with the dream not being completely finished and you are left in limbo as to how it might’ve concluded. You try to close your eyes and will yourself back to sleep, but unfortunately you find the more you are conscious of it being a dream, the more chance you have of slowing regaining full consciousness. It’s as if you were reading a fantastically gripping novel and just when you reach the concluding chapter you find only blank pages, you try and contact the publishers but discover they’ve gone out of business and no more complete copies of the novel exist, a heartbreaking and also frustrating conclusion.

It does happen though, that you can get back into the dream, it has only happened to me on a few fortunate times though. The story is usually lost to eternally float around your subconscious, sadly sometimes never to be found again.

Usually dreams are purely for entertainment whilst your body repairs itself, but just sometimes you experience something which is eerily spooky, when it seems as if it comes true when you awake.

A number of years ago, I had two such dreams. The first was where I was bidding on the auction site Ebay for a rare disc item I desperately wanted. I had won many auctions before and as this one was finishing about 3am UK time, I wasn’t too concerned about losing it. I had a large bid in place and also a substantial backup bid just in case I was involved in a bidding war. As I had won all of my previous bids which ended around this same early time in the morning. I went to sleep the previous night, not unduly worried and confident that when I awoke the next day, I would be the owner of the object of my desire.

At some point that morning, I dream't I was visiting a store to buy the disc. Once inside the store, I handed the cashier my money and he handed me a case with the disc inside. On the walk home, I had a feeling to check the inside of the case, even though I was certain the disc was inside as it rattled, I decided to pop it open just to make sure. When I did, the inside of the case did not contain any disc but was empty. I rushed back to the store just to be in time to confront the sales assistant who was selling my disc to a customer. I claimed my disc and shortly afterwards awoke from my sleep in a mixture of panic and confusion. The time was 2.50am and I instinctively turned my computer on to check my Ebay account. Upon signing in, found to my amazement that not less than 10 minutes ago, despite my very high reserve, I had actually been outbid for the disc! I bidded again up to the close of 3am and thankfully managed to win the bid and secure the disc for my collection.

The second dream happened within the morning of when I going for a job interview for a role I really wanted. In my dream, I was staying in an exceedingly posh hotel, all gold, marble and room service. One morning I was leaving for the day when I was called over to the extravagant reception area by the manager of the hotel. He said I had an important message left for me and tapped his finger at an official looking card on the front desk. The words simply said ‘You’ve got an interview at 10.30am, you’re going to be late’. I immediately looked up at the large ornate clock which was behind the reception area and the hands read 9.00am. As if I had been prodded by a sharp stick, I awoke from my dream immediately, sat up and looked up at my own clock on the wall and it indeed did say 9.00am! My alarm clock which I had set by my bed had not gone off as its batteries had run out.

Now both of these cases could proberly be explained I suppose. The ‘Ebay disc’ could’ve meant I was more worried subconsciously about losing it than I realised, and the ‘Interview’ dream and my own ability to warn and wake myself that I had overdone it due to my faulty alarm clock, could’ve been in some connection to my own internal body clock. For many years, I always awoke just before the clock was to sound its chimes, quite simply I believe that all of our bodies get used to certain times of waking, sometimes to the precise minute. Even so, the way my brain connected the two and wove the warning of the impending possibility of missing my own interview into a realistic dream, was special.

In all, I think the way our bodies and minds work are truly miraculous. We all have the ability to put our minds to anything we choose. With determination, perseverance and sometimes a little help from our friends our dreams can really become reality and keeping an open mind both when we are asleep and also when were in the waking life can make us all very happy….oh and by the way, yes, I did get the job :)

24th

Out of all the frequently tacky and tasteless merchandise that is sold at Christmas time, I think I saw today what must count as being nearing the top of the tree when it comes to ‘objects that shouldn’t be’.

It was named as a 'Squish' Calendar and proudly being advertised as ideal for every home. It has become a surprise best-seller, and it contains a dozen images of ROADKILL.

The man who took all of the gruesome snaps is a Kevin Beresford, who in his line of work as a courier came across daily different animals that had been run over and left by the side of the road.

They include the bodies of a squirrel, a badger, a fox and a hedgehog. The November picture is unrecognisable and is simply just described as a ‘furry beast’.

Kevin whose 58 and based out of Redditch, Worcs defends his calendar by saying that it is dedicated to ‘the courageous critters that never made it across the road’. He has sold hundreds of copies adding that ‘It’s popular with students and people who live in the country’.

The perfect gift for every stocking, just make sure its blood red in colour!

21st

I took part again in Kent’s largest annual sea-fishing competition today. Each year it’s located along the coast of Sheerness and has about 400 pegs or so. The prize fund which ranges from everything from angling products to cheque's worth hundreds of pounds makes this competition one of the largest in Europe, one year the top prize in addition to all the other prizes was a £20,000 Mitsubishi truck, which was won by someone catching a fish whose weight matched exactly a weight already written in an envelope.

My Nephew has been very successful in our time taking part, both winning the Junior section outright in his very first year and also coming runner-up as well in subsequent competitions.

The weather this year was pretty mild for a late November day, albeit with a semi-strong onshore wind, and we set off early as usual at about 5.30am for the early morning draw. After checking in, myself, nephew, brothers and friends picked out at random our pegs. As in every fishing location, there are always spots where the angler groans with disappointment or sighs with pleasure, today wasn’t too bad and we were pretty content with our choices. The thing with this type of competition is that everyone has got a fighting chance, as long as you have decent bait and have prepared as much as you can with your rigs and tackle, then you can settle back knowing whatever may happen you will have a good time and what will be, will be.

It was lovely spending time with some of my family, in amongst the serious side of fishing correctly, we had such a fun time and kept each other entertained with jokes, banter, and tales (usually completely made-up) of neighbouring anglers who were catching all manner of sizeable quarry.

There were times sitting in our bivvy, with the rods sitting proudly upright on the tripod whilst the sun glinted off the gold of our 7HT reels that (as regards fishing experiences go) felt more than magical. To be surrounded by ones you adore and all having a shared feeling of contentment and happiness that at that moment you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, is well special, truly special.

Unfortunately we didn’t catch any monsters this year and the ones we did, we carefully put back into the sea as they were undersize. The absolute correct thing to do so that they can live to fight another day and so also aid in keeping the fish stocks healthy and buoyant for the future.

Not many winning fish were caught, but I’m always happy from a conservation point of view that every year, every fish of size that is caught is donated to the old people’s homes across Sheerness so that they can have a delightful fish supper. In doing so, the fish didn’t die in vain.

All in all, we had a really lovely time together, sharing each others company, hopes, disappointments but ultimately sharing a period of time that any form of prize money simply couldn’t buy.

20th

Heard today that snow is on its way to the Southeast, it’s pretty much a case of when it hits instead of if now. For a week or so, the first flakes of snow drifts which quickly developed into drifts have continued to bombard Scotland. The coldest weather had pretty much stabilised within the north of the country and we all thought we may escape the worst of the weather and that it would blow itself out into the North Sea.

It doesn’t look now that is the case, but I most people have been sensible this year and have started to stock up with food and other supplies just in case the journey to the shops does prove arduous. Unfortunately though, I still think there will still be a number not putting in any preparation and who will venture at the last moment and in the very worst conditions to strip the shelves dry of all essentials.

I do truly love the look and feel when it snows, I’m not so hot about driving in it much but being wrapped up warm and either spending time indoors or outside with family and good friends is one of the most enjoyable aspects of this time of year.

18th

Spent some quality time in the company with my beautiful nieces today. It's amazing, even though two of them are twins, they all have such unique and individual personalities.

October 2010 

28th

I was told today that many airlines including British Airways are leading a recalled effort to overturn the many stringent security checks their customers have to go through before they can board one of their planes. They say that many customers have complained and asked if they could do away with some of the checks so that queues are kept to a more manageable level.

On the face of it, it appears good that potentially we all may be able again to speed merrily through security without so much as a flash of our boarding pass and a cheery smile. No more worrying that we have any liquids over a certain volume, no more being caught out by forgetting we have a half-empty bottle of water in our hand luggage as it zips through the x-ray machine (I’ve forgotten many times and each time, the security personnel seem to take great delight in holding the offending item at arms length before depositing it into a nearby bin), no more taking off our belts, shoes or other pieces of clothing. Just turn up and sail through.

But really would this happen? And to be honest, even if it did would you really want the worry that would accompany the whole plane ride to your final destination, just so you saved a few minutes checking in?

I have always liked British Airways and have flown with them many times, I have enjoyed their professionalism, quality of staff and general level of service, but I must admit that I would definitely think twice about flying with them again or any other airline if they insist on putting the winning of some perceived power struggle with the American authorities over the safety of their number one asset, their passengers. There is an old saying (even though I don’t personally believe in an afterlife, but the sentiment is true) that ‘it’s better to be late in this life than early in the next’.

In fact, there’s a strong argument that maybe there should be even more security checks and staff training refreshment as even in its present state, security at all airports is not what it could be.

I have been on a few occasions less than reassured that the Airport staff know what they are doing, and sometimes even those who do, take the word of the security handbook very literally. For example, I was once travelling through Europe and my last stop was flying out of Istanbul Airport back home to the UK. I was checking through my last piece of security when it came to my turn to pass through the x-ray scanner and place my hand luggage on the conveyor belt. I knelt instinctively to remove my hiking boots as normal when a firm hand clasped my shoulder and in broken English said ‘No, No, only shoes’, I turned to see one of the security guards waving his hands nonchalantly towards me and in the direction of the x-ray scanner. I passed through, wasn’t so much as patted down and turned to see the nice chap I had struck up a conversation with earlier being told quite vigorously that he must remove his footwear, his crime, he was wearing shoes! Quite ridiculous, because obviously, if you was a terrorist the only footwear of choice and which you could hide some explosives would be in a pair of size 10 brogues!

The whole episode of adding the ‘removal of footwear’ to the passengers security checklist came from the infamous incident in 2001 of Richard Reid, AKA The Shoe bomber, who was a self admitted member of Al-Qaeda.

Reid attempted to blow a airplane out of the sky by concealing plastic explosives within the soles of his shoes. His despicable plan was only thwarted when other passengers smelt smoke, thought he was smoking, and then discovering the real cause managed to physically restrain Reid.

In his court trial afterwards, the court heard that the explosive apparently didn’t detonate due to the one-day delay in the take-off of Reid's flight (due to him undergoing additional security checks owing to suspicions being raised over his disheveled appearance, not answering all questions asked of him, and also because he had checked no luggage on the Paris to Miami flight). He had worn his shoes for more than day, and the rainy weather, perhaps alongside Reid's accumulated foot perspiration, caused the fuse to be too damp to ignite. I suppose this is the only Airplane delay in history whose delay was greatly blessed.

I feel as long as you take the Airports advices and arrive in plenty of time for your flight then waiting for a short while in queues is no problem. I would much rather be safe than sorry. I feel its proberly those ones who always like to leave their arrival at the airport and boarding to the last minute that are resisting against the security checks the most. If you’ve ever seen one of those Airport reality programme's on TV, you will know the kind of person I mean.

There will always be queues though, its human nature and also a predicament of how busy a airline terminal gets. I feel also that sometimes when passengers are given a quick method of checking in they very rarely take it anyway. I was once at Heathrow Airport, waiting in the security x-ray line patiently, when a number of security personnel announced that they were requiring volunteers to go through their new complete body x-ray machines which were designed to speed up the whole security process. Volunteers? Well, everyone did that kind of thing when they’re unsure of what to do next but like the sound of something, they all start looking at one another to see if anyone is going to make a move first. After a further call for volunteers, I swiftly stuck my hand up and briskly walked out of the queue towards security where I was escorted to a machine which I had hoped would resemble the one in the film, Total Recall.

It was very cool but not like the one I had optimistically envisaged, I had to stand in three different poses, given the thumbs up and then well…that was it! One of the perks for volunteering was that I could bypass the WHOLE queue and simply just walk into the land of freedom, that is also known as Duty Free! Before I departed though, I asked if I could see the x-ray images of myself, I was then obligingly shown into a little room where a member of personnel showed me the shots. They were a little eerie and quite detailed.

I asked why more people didn’t take up this method of skipping the queue? I was told by the security, that its human nature to be apprehensive of new technology and people feel more comfortable waiting in line.

For me, I will always take advantage of anything that will shorten the waiting time of a queue but when it comes to security, some things are just not worth risking.

26th

I heard a very sad story about a famous wild animal that lived in the UK being shot to death today. It was of a giant red deer, a 9 foot tall stag, which was thought to be the largest living wild land creature alive in Britain. It was called the ‘Exmoor Emperor’, due to the location where he resided and the magnificence of his statue.

It is thought that he was shot by trophy hunters whose bloodlust and selfish desire to earn a rumoured £1000 bounty for delivering this beautiful animal’s head and antlers to the willing buyer. What makes this tragedy even more poignant is that he was killed whilst it was the mating season and with no regard for the security of future generations of this most stately of species.

Some people have tried to disgracefully defend the barbarity and selfish actions of the ‘trophy hunters’ as some sort of noble cause that they were acting: 1.) In the stags best interests as he was ‘old’, 2.) In the young stag’s interests, as they were allowing a new stag to rise up through the ranks a little more quickly than nature intended. I can never understand what impels people like this to come to these types of views, as if nature’s world relies upon the intervention of man to carry out the naturally-laid laws of the animal kingdom.

And to try and argue falsely that this act was done in a form of some perverse love for this creature is really just abhorrent. Sadly in the eyes of these sad but ultimately cruel people who roam our pleasant land with weapons loaded (to take the lives of creatures that are not given a fighting chance to defend themselves) the stag’s fate was sealed when it was termed ‘Emperor’. The temptation to fill a place on their wall with the decaying head of a once proud animal proved too much for their twisted egos.

It’s the same with all other blood-sports as well, anything where the sole intention is to kill dead an animal for the pure enjoyment or financial gain of the individuals involved. Everything from fox-hunting, pheasant shooting, badger baiting, dog fighting or any other animal be it as majestic as a Lion, Elephant, Crocodile, Whale, Hippo or the devastating trade in Bird Eggs.

As regards fox-hunting, I feel personally its incredible that the hunting fraternity still trot-out the tired old line that they are doing this barbaric and uncivilised charade in the name of keeping control of fox numbers. What an absolute insult to the intelligence of anyone possessing a clear and free-thinking mind.

Is the spending of almost a full day by scores of overly dressed people and countless dogs and horses trampling across the countryside, really the most humane and effective way of despatching just one solitary fox? Of course it’s not, if the real reason was effectively controlling the fox population, a much better job could be done by a couple of well-trained marksmen and trackers who would go out into the field and hunt down a number of these ‘troublesome’ beasts at once. Quick, efficient and humane. And here is the rub as well, for every landowner who dislikes foxes and classes them as vermin because they steal a chicken or two, there are numerous more who would happily admit to appreciating the fox and class them as an ally in controlling Rabbits, voles and other rodents. One of the main reasons for the dislike of foxes by pastoral farmers is the fox’s tendency to commit surplus killing towards their stock, such as chickens, yet only eat one of them. On the strength of it, the farmers appear to maybe have a point, they make out as if the foxes have an insatiable and wanton bloodlust for unnecessary killing, but then there are those who maintain that provided the fox isn’t disturbed it will remove all of the chickens it kills and conceal them in a safe place, not only to feed itself later but also its family.

The fox, when he ‘steals’ a chicken, doesn’t do it out of spite or a vandalistic attitude towards the person whose land he stands upon, he simply does it out of necessity and for the physical welfare for himself and his family. If a fox is classed as ‘vermin’ for hunting purely to keep himself alive, what of those who hunt purely for entertainment?

There is an Oscar Wilde quotation, which poetically describes fox hunting as the ‘unspeakable hunting the uneatable’. You usually find that hunting conducted in this way is usually only done by the extremely well off, well-heeled and wealthy and is usually frowned upon by those of a lesser financial disposition. I always find this surprising as frequently the super rich like to view themselves as superior, civilised and have more refined manners.

It’s simply not true, money frequently does corrupt and many people of wealth do become completely detached with the world around them, both in a people sense and also what is a respectable way to treat animals. For example, even though there is a hunting ban on, many wealthy hunters simply ignore the law of the land and continue to hunt. Quite simply, because it doesn’t suit their lifestyle and they don’t agree with it. What a terrible precedent to set. These very same people would instantly have no trouble with looking down on those less fortunate than themselves if they broke the law or did something they didn’t agree with. We would have anarchy on the streets if everyone just took, ignored and applied different laws to themselves.

I always find that if you dislike animals immensely to the point of wanting to exterminate a particular race, it’s only a short hop to cultivating an unsavoury attitude when viewing different nationalities or races in the world.

Wildlife on the whole are treated very abysmally by our human race, animals on the whole are treated as a by product of human endeavour and simply something that must serve a purpose for humans otherwise it should die. I met a lady once who raised pigs for slaughter and spoke in glowing terms of how cute they are when she ‘made’ them and how intelligent they are as they grow. I asked her at the end of her glowing tribute to these creatures, that would she ever consider keeping one as a pet or maybe just having space for them so they could graze and live in a community as nature intended? Her mood darkened and she got quite animated as she tried to berate me by saying ‘But they..are animals! What good are animals if they are not killed and eaten? That is what they live for!’ Words have sometimes failed me in life, and on this occasion, I’m pleased that they did.

Sadly, a lot people only see the beauty of wildlife when it’s either smothered in Tomato sauce or suffocated in vinegar. This is evidently clear as nothing it appears is off the menu, be it in an eating or financial sense.
Be it the culling of the majestic Elephant or Rhino purely so only its tusks or horns can be ripped out from their heads, and then leave its still warm corpse to rot. Or the dolphins and whales that are indiscriminately caught in fishing nets and drown. As well as all the beautiful sharks that are caught on Japanese whaling vessels only for them to then to have their fins sliced off their bodies and then dumped, still alive, back into the sea, where they slowly sink, in extreme agony and pain to the seabed. And all because some human may feel he will get some sexual boost from eating the flesh or be able to make some magic medicinal potion.

There is even a poisonous fish in Japan called the Fugu (Blowfish) that is considered a great delicacy and if you survive you are considered a person of immense courage and bravery. In Western Japan, Fugu is called ‘Fuku’ and is roughly translated rather bizarrely as ‘Happiness’, since Fugu’s poison can lead to instantaneous deaths of diners, only licensed cooks are allowed to prepare the fish. It is said that over 40 different kinds of Fugu are served and that over 10,000 tons are consumed each year by either extremely brave or extremely foolish patrons. The most notorious place in Japan for sampling the delights of this potentially life-taking delicacy is Shimonoseki-city in Yamaguchi, it is also simply known as ‘Fugu City’, and supplies a large amount of Fugu to other cities throughout the rest of the country.

It is said that the most poisonous Fugu (which costs upwards of hundreds of pounds), ‘Tora-Fugu’, is the most delicious. Due to the increasing popularity of this dish, you can now incredibly find it pre-packed and prepared to buy at grocery stores and even online.

The only reason for all of this selfish barbarity is simply because humans, can.

There is a phrase in the film ‘Jurassic Park’ where the scientist Dr Ian Malcom (played by the actor Jeff Goldblum) says to the jubilant park’s owner, John Hammond, (played by Richard Attenborough - who is so proud his funding has just resurrected the extinct Dinosaurs) ‘Yeah, but your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should’.

It’s the same with animal welfare, as the Apex predator on this planet of ours, we have the power and also responsibility to decide how to look after all of our subjected creatures. Just because we are the most powerful species on earth does that really make it okay to treat every other living thing as if it doesn’t really matter whether it lives or dies? The only unique thing that separates us from all the life on earth and makes us number one (apart from the marvellous fact that as a species we all look individually different) is the incredibly powerful and self-awareness of our brains. There are creatures that are vastly superior to us in every other possible way, be it strength, hearing, eyesight, smell, or speed. We have an incredible responsibility to care for all the living things on our planet and on the whole, a lot of humans mess up big time.

One of my favourite journalists is Louis Theroux. His numerous television programme's including the ‘Weird Weekends’ and ‘When Louis Met’ are some of the most enlightening pieces of TV you will have the pleasure of seeing. Sure, he plays upon his bespectacled appearance and lures his subjects into letting down their carefully built-up guards, but by doing so, he cleverly is able to enter worlds where most other journalists would not be able to go. And even though behind the smiles, wit and genuine humour beats the heart of an intensely story-hungry individual, he also possesses many fine qualities which are rarely attributable to this kind of journalistic approach. He shows genuine compassion, frequent honesty and a sharp intelligence and asks the questions that just beg themselves silly to be asked.

One of his programme's was centred on the unknown game reserves in Africa where animals are born and bred in captivity purely for people to pay to kill them in the future. These animals include every species from Lion’s, Rhino’s to Zebra’s, and they are all priced accordingly, a little like a menu. So for example if you was feeling a little flush you could ‘shell out’ quite literally on killing yourself a beautiful lioness and then watch with ‘pride’ as her life ebbs away from the bullets you have just implanted into her brain. Or, if times were a little tight, you could go for something a little less expensive but still get that ‘rush’ of seeing a smaller animal in your sniper rifle, slowly look up from eating some grass and take delight in knowing that will be the last meal they will eat, before you end its life on this earth. Absolutely beyond the comprehension of anyone who believes in the sanctity of all living life! The irony is that, the majority of those doing the shooting console themselves with the belief of Evolution, and that they are only fitting in with the old adage ‘survival of the fittest’. If they truly did believe in this, then a piece of themselves must surely die with each kill, as simply they are killing a relative of theirs on the tree of life.

Also, the way the animals are treated leading up to the ‘hunt’ makes a mockery of the term ‘survival of the fittest’. The animals are not given a chance to defend themselves and are usually drugged before the ‘courageous’ and ‘brave hunter’ even has the opportunity to look down his sights and pull the trigger. All in the name of providing a better all round experience and to make the person feel more powerful on their big day out. I would love to see what would happen to one of these ‘brave’ hunters without a gun and faced with an animal that could fight back.

Thankfully, Louis decided he couldn’t pull the trigger himself and subsequently saved not only that one animals life (if only for a brief period), but his very own conscience and TV career.

Sadly, this disregard and abuse of animals spills over in a moderate sense into photography.

I heard a little while ago that the person who won the worlds biggest photography competition in 2009 - ‘BBC Wildlife Photographer of the Year’* was stripped of his prize as his photograph was a fake. The man who had the audacity to try and pull of this scam was a Jose Luis Rodriguez, and his shot was of a wolf springing athletically over a rustic fence in a snowy landscape. I think in hindsight to many people, the clue was in the title when he coined it ‘Storybook Wolf’. There’s no doubt that one of the aspects why the judges chose this photo as the champion over the 43,135 other entrants was the perceived patience and skill the photographer had displayed. Upon a thorough investigation after many complaints from other photographers that they recognised the wolf as one named Ossian who lives at a zoological park near Madrid called Canada Real. Mr Rodriguez was then subsequently banned for life from entering the competition again.

When I read about this story, I was shocked to hear that reserves like this actually existed and how common they really are! Places where people can pay large sums of money to take photographs of tame (and frequently drugged) animals in natural but caged enclosures so that they can take a shot only the dedicated, determined and hardworking persevere at getting. The ‘real’ photographer would have to put real time, energy and frequently put up with long days in arduous conditions to get that one shot of his chosen animal. But by doing so, displays a love for animals that these phoney image-makers could only wish for in their dreams.

Unfortunately, by having these kinds of people taking pictures it does a great disservice to all the real wildlife photographers. The real tragedy of all of this, apart from the treatment of the animals, is that it can’t help but make you question the authenticity of the vast majority of the photos you may have seen in the past or will see in the future. If someone has the front to take these kind of photos in the first place, they would definitely have no qualms about taking credit when it is assumed they had put a lot of hard work in getting them naturally. I have subsequently heard and read many reports where even some famous wildlife photographers have chosen to take this unnatural route of capturing wildlife images on film and have been able to get a week’s shot of images in just one day on these reserves. To then pass them off as the fruitage of your own hard work tracking these beautiful creatures, and then claim money for the deception, though, is pretty much beyond the pale when it comes to human decency and honesty.

By implying this fake and unnatural setting is real, these shots of tame animals cast a shadow over those ones who actually do spend the time and patience tracking down wonderful animals for a great shot.

Unfortunately in life, wherever there is a financial or fame reward, there are those kind of people will try and cut corners and cheat. Thankfully though, there are still an immeasurable amount of honest and trustworthy people to count upon and it is with this fact, that gives me personally a lot of hope.

* The annual competition is owned by the Natural History Museum and BBC Wildlife Magazine.

19th

Our family lost our only pet today, Toffee, he may have not been big in size but in its short life with us brought us so much joy with his brilliant, intelligent, fun and large personality.

Some animals are like that, some people may just class them as a pet and say that because their small they obviously don’t have as large an emotional effect on us. It's really not true, it's like saying a baby is less meaningful to us than a fully grown adult, sure there’s a difference in size but if you are a person of any reasonable heart you will give out your love in equal amounts to everyone you meet, including our innocent animal companions who don’t ask to be taken into our company, but do only require us to love them and look after them to the best of our ability.

And to be honest, animals are even much more than that. If you believe in a creator, you will know that he gave these creatures to us for our direct enjoyment and if equally you believe in Evolution, all animals are related to you as all life on earth came from the same source.

Little Toffee died in his sleep and it was decided to bury him in my sister’s garden where my Nephew and Niece, who loved him very much, decided themselves to write goodbye notes to him and place them in his box before he was put into the ground, a send-off fit for a little prince.

17th

I am currently in process of planning a short trip within the next couple of months to revisit Paris in France. I am very much looking forward to returning to this beautiful capital city, it really is delightful and typically French in many ways.

I will be visiting the Louvre and seeing the Mona Lisa, taking a ride aboard one of the cruise boats along the River Seine to drink in the views, visiting Notre Dame, riding the escalator in the Eiffel Tower to as high as it goes, seeing the Arc de Triomphe, Champs-Elysees and hopefully catching a showing of Moulin Rouge.

I will also be sampling cappuccinos, Ice Latte’s and a croissant or two in as many of the cosiest cafes I can find. I will also be visiting the many film locations from the wonderfully emotional and real film that is Before Sunset (with Ethan Hawke & Julie Delpy). Before Sunset and its predecessor, Before Sunrise, are two of my most favourite films.

The acting is just exquisite and real, the characters both flawed and equally full of beauty, they are filmed mainly in real-time to heighten their intimacy which makes the dialogue and scenes more poignant and were filmed 9 years apart. I discovered the second film the same time as the first and it was one of those times where I was emotionally touched and connected with what I saw on film. I suppose in a way it was a blessing as I had the opportunity to freshly see them back-to-back, the way the first film ends, it must have been an filmatic nightmare for people who originally saw it back in 1994 to be left on such an emotional climax (I wont spoil or say too much, if you are in love or have ever been in love at least one time in your life, then I would urge you to watch them both) and not know if  a new film would ever be made to continue the story.

I respect Hawke, Delpy and the very talented and human Director, Richard Linklater, to resist just cashing in with a quick update a half year or two down the road but hold onto their original vision of making a sequel exactly 9 years later. So that the actors actually had time to physically and emotionally mature in real life and bring back to the roles the very real-life experiences (and public), joys and problems that we all have to go through – method acting at its purest. The way they have done that makes you connect with the characters and the dialogue that sincerest bit more.

I have visited the locations from the first film whilst I was in Vienna, and as beautiful, mysterious and deep as Vienna is, even if you did just that you would take in a nice overview and get to know the sights of this lovely place very well.

Just getting out there and exploring on foot and sometimes tram or tube you will see everything from Kleines Café (Vienna’s smallest coffee house), The Riesenrad Ferris Wheel and amusement park, Votive Church, Moelker Bastion, Zollamssteg Bridge, Maria am Gestede, Franziskanerplatz, Balcony of the Albertina and also the sad location and tale of the Cemetery of the Nameless. What I love about most of the locations from these films and ones like these are that they are still there; they are ‘actual’ buildings, structures history and architecture. And anyone can quite happily and pleasantly turn up and visit them.

With many films the locations, even though they look real, are simply facades or made up on some remote sound stage in some remote area of occasionally a large parking lot. One of the biggest disappointments for me was when I was travelling with family around Kefalonia for a two day-trip whilst holidaying on another nearby Greek Island. ‘Captain Corelli’s Mandolin had always been a long-standing family favourite and whilst there after visiting the truly wonderful Melissani Lake and Drogarati Cave we decided to take the opportunity to visit Sami where ‘Captain Correlli’ was filmed. We all genuinely expected to still be able to visit the same building Nicholas Cage and cast acted in and around, but when we arrived in the local tourist office to ask for directions, the frail old dear who worked there told us with a empathetic but sad look (as if she had proberly been asked a thousand times before!) that no buildings from the film survived, they were not original and had all been constructed purely for the film and shortly after filming wrapped, they were all torn down.

The area around Sami is still nice though with some idyllic and crystal clean beaches so it wasn’t all bad news. We decided to spend our time in the capital, Argostoli, though and that truly is a vibrant and real place.

So in all I very much looking forward to losing myself in Paris and will travelling via Eurostar in the not too distant future.

16th

I was in the beautiful seaside town of Whitstable on the south east coast of England today. I was asked to help my friend run one of his many coffee enterprises, in Whitstable he owns a marvellous contraption that can only be best described as the lovechild of an oversized tricycle and the magical flying car out of the Chitty-Chitty Bang Bang film! The location where we site this wonderful beverage dispensing vehicle is pretty much half way down the promenade which is a lovely location with a very pretty view. The weather was changeable with clean blue skies mixed in with a mild light rain for a short bit and thus hot drinks were enthusiastically accepted and consumed. Afterwards I strolled around and down the many maze like alleys with ‘original’ named ones like ‘Beach’ and the fabulously like ‘Oggies’. It was just wonderful - pretty pastel coloured picket fences, shingle & shells in front gardens, sash-windows and the sound of seagulls and the smell of fresh sea air floating merrily all around.

The shops are also delectable with innumerable little cosy cafes and restaurants serving proper fresh-fish suppers and myriads of little curiosity shops that sell everything and anything that you could spend an age happily wandering around and exploring.

I would definitely urge you to visit if you’ve never been to Whitstable or consider making time for another trip soon even if you have. Friendly, peaceful, quaint, hip, traditional and fresh, you will have a lovely time, I myself very much look forward to my next escapade there.

15th

I am currently in process of writing up a draft itinerary for my next backpacking adventure – South America. The plan is to first of all fly into Mexico City (Mexico), then travel by any means possible onto Bogota (Colombia), Quito (Equador), Lima Machu Picchu (Peru), La Paz (Bolivia), Brasilia (Brazil), Asuncion (Paraguay), Santiago (Chile), Buenos Aires & Patagonia (Argentina), Montevideo (Uruguay), and then having a final drink in one of the British pubs on the Falklands Islands. I would if possible like to visit both Easter and the Galapagos Islands with their ancient stone figures, volcanoes and varied wildlife. Easter Island itself is a remote dot in the completely vast South Pacific measuring just 7 by 15 miles with the closest signs of civilisation over 1000 miles distant, on even smaller Pitcairn Island – Chile and Tahiti are over 2,200 distant, in opposite directions! So we will see.

I would also love to go hot-air ballooning and take a parachute jump if the opportunity arose, as due to the geographical landscapes across all of the countries, the views will be nothing short of spectacular.

I haven’t set a timescale yet but it will happen when the time is right, and I very much look forward to making it happen.

13th

What an incredible day for human persistence, love and the desire never to give up on any task no matter how insurmountable it seems.

The Chilean Miners rescue that has been unfolding since the collapse of the San Esteban Mine (near the city of Copiapo) reached a beautiful outcome today with the safe rescue of all 33 trapped miners.

Since the tragedy first started upon the 5th August, watching the drama play out and not knowing but praying for a miracle has been a fascinating, heartbreaking but in the end ultimately heartwarming example of what can be accomplished when men work together for the greater good and love each other enough to put themselves in harms way so that their fellow man may find life again.

I was watching the news from before the first brave rescuer, Manuel Gonzalez, descended down the (approximately) 2,300ft mine shaft in the impossibly narrow rescue capsule, Phoenix 2, and with each life that was lifted up and out so that they again could start living was one of the most joyous and miraculous events I have ever have the happiness of experiencing. I’m not ashamed to say I had tears in my eyes and my chest filled with pride when each man embraced their loved ones and then each of the rescuers to say thank you for not giving up on them. Truly marvellous stuff.

I’m sure good humour and also a faith of whatever description got them through the days especially the first 17 when they were completely alone, before they finally managed to send a message of hope to the surface. I heard that in preparation for the final rescue so that all the men guaranteed to fit inside the slim rescue tube, they were all put on strict calorie rations to keep their weight down. I can just imagine that amongst all the jokes to keep spirits and hopes high that rescue was coming, it was discussed that it would be quite obvious and embarrassing if anyone was sneaking in a few midnight cookies before bedtime!

All in all, an absolutely wonderful day and one that provides a giant shot of hope into what sometimes can be frequently a troubling world.

10th

Have booked a holiday to visit my beloved Cornwall (SW England) again next year.

It's one of those places that though not too far away in miles, always helps you create memories that are out of this world. I usually stay in the beautiful village of Herodsfoot which is ideally located within an easy and pleasant drive to all of the nicest places, including the picturesque fishing villages of Polperro and Looe. Where in addition to roaming around the narrow streets and taking in the pretty little pastel-coated cottages, you can go on some wonderful coastline walks and find your own perfect little cove in which to imagine your on your own famous-five smuggling adventure. You can also hire out a skipper and his boat to take you out fishing for different species of fish, some of which are only found along this part of the English coast. The quaint and olde-fashioned sweet shop in Polperro is always worth a visit as you will be sure to find some sweet things that remind you of your childhood.

The Eden Project is also not far away and is always worth visiting no matter how many times you been before. They’ve done a great job there, both highlighting the beauty of nature and also educating us on the fragility of our eco-systems and how we can all play a part in helping protect our planet. It’s without a doubt my most favourite thing from out of all the works that were commissioned to celebrate the Millennium, something that was worth every penny of the cost creating it.

With the long list of activities and inspiring things to see and do, you can safely never get bored in this beautiful corner of England and I am always frequently reminded of how glorious and how rich England’s past and heritage really is.

Everything from the legends of King Arthur’s Castle and Merlin’s Cave (which are located at Tintangel. It's an area of truly outstanding natural beauty and is one of the most magical locations there could be for both a legend and a castle and well worth the climb up the many steps to reach the top and admire the viewpoints of this area) to Smuggler’s, Mermaid’s, Giant’s and everything in between.

There are also numerous high quality theme parks (though admittedly not large in size, they definitely do make an impact on you). I would also recommend hiring a car and just going on leisurely road trips to take in the scenery across the moors. It's really pleasant driving but do keep the speed down, as the only blight on this area being one of my most favourite driving destinations is the immeasurable number of sneakily well-hidden speed cameras.

Of the many memorable road adventures I’ve been on personally, one of the best was the drive from Herodsfoot through to Tintangel via a stop at the Chaucester stone settlement and King Arthur’s Lake (It's actually called Dozmary Pool and it's where the Excalibur sword and the Lady in the Lake fable comes from) then onto Newquay (which is a genuine English surfers paradise and is also home to the Headland Hotel, which was the eye candy in the Roald Dahl film, The Witches. I was so excited about visiting there as it was one of my favourite films as a kid, and to see that the hotel looks exactly the same as it did in the movie was great).

Then a stop at the Sea-Life Seal Sanctuary at Gweek (I always wanted to visit there also, as a number of years back whilst holidaying in northern Scotland with family, we made a detour to Oban and the National Sea-Life centre which is located there. When I had done my research before that particular trip, I discovered that there were only two Sea-Life centres in the UK which specialised in looking after seals. The owners explained that they have frequently kind-hearted but misdirected members of the public who bring into them small seal pubs whom they thought had been abandoned on the sea shore.

In most cases though the mother of the pup was simply swimming out in the bay searching for food but would always be not too far away so as to keep a motherly eye on her young. Unfortunately we were told that as soon as humans make contact with what they perceive as being an abandoned pup, the mother seal will then inexplicably not return to her young and then sadly abandon them. The main lesson which the generously-hearted people at the Sea-Life centre were trying to educate to the public at large is that it’s best to leave nature be as even with the best intentions man has a tendency to disrupt the harmony and natural laws that exists with the animal kingdom.

It was a great day there and we of course couldn’t all wait to throw some fish into the eager mouths of these innocent and very cute creatures. Whilst there, we were told that some of the small pups we had fed and spent some time getting to know were being readied to get transferred to their other Sea-Life centre in Gweek (Cornwall) and I thought to myself there and then, that on one day in the future I would hope to travel down and see how they had grown and visit them in their new home.

So it was with this memory in mind, that I was naturally really excited at the opportunity to visit them when I last went to Cornwall in 1998. It was a pretty emotional day spending some time in their company, they were obviously larger, older and more rotund that my last mental image of them but I was so happy that they had found peace and comfort in what is a beautiful location.

After a fantastic time spent at the sanctuary, we hit the road again and then after a coastal walk at Sennen Cove just as the sun was starting its lazy descent into the cool blue sea (from a photographic aspect, I had heard of the fantastic evening light here and it didn’t disappoint at all. If I ever want to make myself smile, I call upon many events, people and places throughout my life and my time spent happily exploring Sennen Cove is one of them), we drove onto Lands End just in time to catch the stunning crimson-orange sunset casting its magical allure over the whole area.

It’s a beautiful area complete with picturesque lighthouse where you can stand and gaze out to the sea knowing the next piece of land in front of you is America. Whilst there, I really wanted to get a photo of the famous Lands-End signpost (complete with distances in miles to different far-flung locations), unfortunately all that remained was the post with the holes in which the sign sat. I was told that the sign used to be left up all the time, but after many occasions where the sign was pilfered away as a tourist’s ultimate Cornish souvenir, the Lands-End committee decided to lock it up safely each night.

The night-time ride home to our extremely cosy miner’s cottage was wonderful and with the prospect of a hot drink and hearty home-cooked meal, we pulled up onto the long gravel drive and was welcomed by the twinkling lamps through the leaded windows. We were all truly and happily content at spending another full and lovely day in Cornwall’s warm hospitality.

I’m really looking forward to returning back next year. Cornwall is like the comfiest pair of slippers you could ever own, it just feels right. Once you’ve been once and explored the region for yourself, you’re smitten and whether you want a relaxing time or more of an adventurous escapade this beautiful lady of the south will work her magic in every way possible.

9th

 I visited Howletts Zoo (nr Canterbury) today with family and had just a gorgeously beautiful time. The weather was kind to us and the sun certainly was in a pleasant mood and blessed us with its iits warmest smile.

September 2010

26th

Recently returned from a wonderful holiday in Greece, where I stayed in the beautiful coastal village of Parga.

August 2010

23rd

I heard something very sad today. The 150 year old chestnut tree that brought Anne Frank some comfort and a link to the beautiful natural world that still lay outside the window in her secret annex, even amongst the horrors that were being committed by the Nazis, finally died.

She used to write of it in her famous diary. One entry upon 13th May 1944 read 'Our chestnut tree is in full blossom. It is covered with leaves and is more beautiful than last year'.

When I last visited Amsterdam and the Anne Frank Museum in 2007, the tree was threatened with being cut down as it had gotten wood-rot but was reprieved due to public outcry. Finally though today, after being alive longer than anyone currently on this planet it was sadly blown down by strong winds.

I am sad about this as I feel that in addition to being a life-giver (I think some humans always give trees and other important pieces of our ecosystem a real rough time and trivialise them, because quite simply without the oxygen giving and recycling (of the co2 we breath out) qualities they possess, life on earth would find it pretty hard to exist), it was a physical link to he past and I think it is sometimes human nature to take the view that if something is out of sight it is generally out of mind. As much as we should all enjoy our presents and live life to the full, we shouldn't forget the lessons and history of the past so that from time to time we remind ourselves NEVER to repeat the same mistakes in the future.

Many, many years ago I heard of the story of Anne Frank and also subsequently the tree that brought her a little bit of hope and at which she could look at quite contently even whilst in her and her family's secret hiding place. Visiting Anne Franks Museum was one of the initial reasons for my love of travelling and inspired me to live live to the full and see as much of this planet I can. Bringing home to me the truth about the wars that have affected our human history, and the privilege of actually being alive and to always be kind to everyone as when you boil it all down, whether you believe in Creation or Evolution, we are all brothers and from the same source. I'm for Creation myself.

Even though Anne was just one of many, many tragic tales and stories of suffering, and where many have gone untold, I have to thank her for what I gained from her and also the hope that she gained from that tree.

13th

It absolutely rained and poured down today, I feel our good 'ol English Summer is finally is nearing its end, it didn't last long but then again traditionally it dosen't usually. We was treated to some of the loudest thunderbolts I have EVER heard, they were so loud.

I adore mother nature's lightning displays. Some of the best are in Australia. I remember watching an old TV show I used to like many years ago called 'Bush Tucker Man', where Led Hiddins aka Bushtucker sheltered under some scrub bush watching one of the most fantastic natural light shows he or indeed I had ever seen. Far off in the distance from where he was across the barren outback, lightning streaked and flashed across the dark sky. He was at such a safe distance to not be in any real danger but close enough to feel the awesome power of nature. I've never forgotten that spectacle and always get the same feeling when I've experienced lightning and other natural weather effects now. I love also the feeling when you are indoors and it's cold and dark outside with the rain hitting the window panes loudly, particularly if there's a log fire crackling nearby. I also love when you're camping and there's a storm brewing and you lay there with people you love telling stories and hearing the rain splashing upon the tents canvas roof. You feel both exposed to the elements but also comfortable and warm in your own little igloo of a world.

I would love to go storm-chasing in Americas mid-west. I have a respect for the brave but ultimately mad people who make it their living to try and gain data on some of the tornados and twisters that inhabit that part of the world. Some of its fascination is I suppose to satisfy their crazy lust for pure adventure but also that they are helping with the serious side of weather forecasting, and that the data they are able to collect will help in future to try and predict where and when twisters will spark into life. I love their trucks, like little technology-filled tanks on wheels. Just being there surrounded by all the screaming noise and wind-rattling around must be extremely frightening but also must produce an absolute intense blast of adrenalin that I suppose can only be described properly once you've personally experienced it.  

1st

Currently putting together a journey to visit Paris in France a little later this year. Will be taking in all the usual sights including the Louvre, Notre Dame, Eiffel Tower, River Seine and also some off the beaten track. I am looking forward to losing myself in this beautiful city. I've decided to begin the journey by train and will taking the Eurostar.

July 2010

17th

Visited my brother at his new place in Wateringbury with family today. It's a lovely little place just outside of Maidstone. All rolling hills, quaint stone bridges and complete with lovely rivers and Marina.

I've not been to the area before and enjoyed exploring there very much.

There were some beautiful owls on the land where he is, including 'Snowy' as we all named her. She was a quissical little creature. Wise and knowing all wrapped up in a little bundle of white feathers. 

12th

Just returned from a wonderful weekend at the 'Lounge on the Farm' music festival which is located in Canterbury.

I was helping out a friend run their Smoothie/Coffee stall, it was all ethnic rugs, chilled music and the location couldn't have been better placed right in the heart of the various music stages and corn field. I can humbly say we proberly sold the best coffee there, we were always very busy and as the weather was very warm and kind to us, our smoothie range pretty much developed a reputation all of their own and were a top seller.

I met so many wonderful people including many members of the different bands. There was such a diverse range of music and all the locations were individual and nice. What impressed me alot about all the people who came and camped over was how much of a good time they wanted to enjoy. Alot of people had travelled from all over England to attend and alot of the comments were pretty much the same in that everyone liked the family friendly atmosphere and the general vibe felt like that of when Glastonbury opened its gates to the masses in the '70's. There were alot of veteran hippies who said that this particular festival reminded them of their youth and how festivals once were. They pretty much all agreed that they hoped it would stay the same way, but if a 'Starbucks' did ever appear then before long the festival would go along the same well-trodden commercial route that many of the other better known festivals have sadly taken. I went last year as well and even though the vibe was pleasantly pretty much the same this year, I did notice that this year a very large Pizza Express mobile truck had secured a prominent place in the food area, so sadly it may look like the hippies fears will come to pass.

I managed to catch a few of the acts including the one-man techno folk artist that is 'James Yuill', he was absolutely brilliant, his appearance belied his talent. He came out dressed in a hoodie surrounded by all manner of different electronica musical equipment. Stood there, cranked up the music and then whipped off the hood to show himself as being one of the least sterotypical techno people you could imagine. Bopping away to his busted beats he whirled the crowd and me into a minor frenzy, it was absolutely excellent. I suppose the best way I could summarize his persona was simply - 'Science Teacher by day, Superstar DJ by night'!.

Some of the other excellent acts were the funky '12-Tone Brass Band', the imcomparable 23-piece girl alternative choir that is 'Gaggle' and the mixed-up 'DJ Yoda'.

A few years back I saw a travel programme where the traveller visited this remote spa location where in addition to all the other usual beauty treatments on offer, they had this rock pool where you stepped into with bare feet and it was filled with thousands of tiny little 'Doctor Fish' which nibbled, massaged and ultimately cleaned your feet. They say it is great for different skin ailments or in my case just simply for relaxation. I was so curious that I promised myself that I would have a go. It looked so different but at the time, was so new it was only available in certain countries abroad. This year at the festival there was a venue which had offered this exact type of treatment, so on the Sunday I took the plunge and after stepping into the little box where hundreds of these tickly little fellows lived, I was treated to a relaxing, ticklish and slightly unerring experience. It was really cool and I would totally recommend it if you ever get the chance to do it.

So with feet and mind fully refreshed, I served my last few drinks including a coffee to ex-world featherweight champion boxer Barry McGuigan who was with his daughter enjoying the music. He said he was visiting his son who was playing in one of the bands called' Cha-Cha', he was quick to point out that the music they make isnt of the spanish variety and were looking to change their name soon. I liked Barry, he seemed a nice man but I got the impression he didnt like the fame that goes along with being an ex-boxer.

I spent the rest of the night making some new friends and chilling out and finally hit the road for the journey home in the wee small hours this morning (Monday). The 'Lounge on the Farm' is a great little venue and I do indeed look forward to going back there again and losing myself in its company and music.   

June 2010

26th

I'm looking forward to a Summer holiday in Greece I have booked a little later this year. I have visited this beautiful country many times but this will be the very first time I have stayed in the wonderful resort of Parga, it always reminds me of the rugged and picturesque seaside town called Polperro in Cornwall.

I am currently writing up a little itinerary which will involve trips to the Isles of Corfu, Paxos, Lefkada, Kefalonia, the River Acheron near the region of Gliki and also travelling to visually and emotionally drink in the unique and surreal landscapes of the Meteora region.

Should be a wonderful adventure, both familiar and also fresh. Im looking forward to it immensely.

19th

I've just got back from another great backpacking trip around some of Europes most fasinating countries. I had a brilliant time, both tiring, exciting and dicy all at the same time. I would'nt have missed it for the world. I've added a few pictures under the 'What's New' tab, more will follow and a blog in due course.

February 2010

12th

I visited the British Museum in London with friends today and it was absolutely wonderful. Went with good company and it's always a joy to go back and explore a place with such an amazing collection of treasures.

Upon my various worldwide travels it's always been so interesting to see the actual locations where these ancient artifacts housed at the Museum originally came from. I remember when I was in Athens and visited the Parthenon and saw with my own eyes the holes where the Elgin Marbles were orginally located. It was quite sad to know that these missing pieces were hundreds of miles away in a different country but to give the British Museum massive credit, it does provide an very good home in which to display them and the curators do an excellent job in maintaining and preserving them. I'm proberly in some cases with the view that some artifacts should maybe be returned to their homeland so they can be displayed in their proper habitat but then I also feel that without the British Museum providing a stable safe refuge for these myriad of priceless treasures of history they proberly wouldve been lost or destroyed many years ago.

We had a guided tour taking us on a journey through ancient Egypt explaining the culture and religous customs of the day and it was very enlightening, including the state and art of mummification and the Rosetta Stone (which was the key to deciphering Egyptian Heiroglyphs, discovered in 1799 this basalt stone was written in 3 languages, Demotic, Greek and Heiroglyphs. It was explained to us that the inscriptions were interestingly instructions on how to celebrate the Pharoahs birthday and thus why the information was written 3 times so all the people of the day could understand it. An early type of stone poster really) . In all it was a fabulous day and I enjoyed it all immensely.  

January 2010

30th

Im researching my next backpacking trip which I will hopefully do about June. Im planning to fly into Chisinau (Moldova) and then travel by road and rail onto Kyiv (Ukraine), Minsk (Belarus), Vilnius (Lithuania), Riga (Latvia), and Tallinn (Estonia), then catching a boat to Helsinki (Finland) then taking a plane to Moscow (Russia) and finally a flight back to London.

Im REALLY excited by this trip, I've put this trip off once before due to security implicatiions that came up just before I was due to plan to go, but I feel a little later this year will be fine.

I'm working on my itinerary and there are some little gems that I have unearthed and I have only just started digging at the soil!

I look forward to starting and completeing this new adventure.   

7th

The snow continues! I saw an image on the weather report today that was extraordinary. It was a satellite shot of the UK and the WHOLE of the country was entirely white, I dont remember ever seeing that so it was kinda cool, quite literally :)

It has been a bit hard getting about especially if your on wheels of any description and Ive had a few near incidents in the car, its quite scary when the brakes decide not to exist. In all this though, the continued cold weather has not dampened my love for this time of the year. Some people have complained constantly but in reality these are exactly the same type of people who complain when in summer its too hot. I remember a good story told to me a while ago of the need not to have a pessimistic attitude but always to live life optimistically, surround youself with optimstic friends and family and even when your having a bad day their attitude will reinvigorate yours again.

The story was of an old man back in the days before steam who lived near a new-to-built railway line, he constantly complained and spoke that he could never see the train being built and that 'it would never run'. As time went on he complained ever more harder and made the life of those around him ever more depressing with his negative words. Then one day the line was finished, the sparkly new trains were built and the line was officially opened. As the ribbon was cut and the whistle went for the train to depart the station on its first maiden voyage, was the man humbled at the lack of his vision or optimism at the benefits rail travel would bring?...well all I will say is that he was was heard mumbling to himself as he left the station alone 'ah, but they'l never get it to stop'! Hopefully a lesson that we all too do not fall into the downward spiral of pessimism, always remain hopeful even in the most ardent of circumstances, there is an old saying 'theres always sunshine after rain' and do you know what, its absolutely true.

This time of year does last for such a little time in reality and all the talk of this being in worst in over 30 years (I heard one report suggesting 100 years!) only makes you realise how genuinely mild we have had our previous winters over the years. I think we should all embrace and get on the best we can, enjoy the unexpected extra time we may have with loved ones, enjoy each others company. Get wrapped up and go walking in the snow together, go shopping and spend some time sharing and creating some good memories together, drink hot chocolate and again remember how you felt when you was a child having your first snowball fight.

Another great positive of the cold weather is of how it has brought communities together and taught neighbours to interact with each other as we all need each other to help in all manner of ways. Be it spontanously helping to push a stranded car, asking an elderly neighbour if they would like any supplies from the shops, clearing a neighbours path. You find when we help each other not only do we get work done more quickly but the genuine joy and happiness we gain inside is immeasurable and cannot be bought.

So, in time this cold weather will be a memory, let us all enjoy it and the opportunities it brings whilst it lasts. 

December 2009

11th

Well, winter time has arrived and brought with it a great dollop of fluffly snow that has carpeted pretty much the whole of Kent. I awoke this morning to be confronted with a beautifully mono outlook that looks so pretty and is such a shame in a way we dont see more of it throughout the year. I love pretty much everything there is about Snow and the winter season, the way the light is so different this time of year, the delicous crunch underfoot when walking across pure virgin snow, snowball fights, sledging, and just the simple pleasures of seeing either a cats footprints or a family wrapped up warm and venturing out to have fun together.

I love the warmth of open fires on cold days, hot mulled wine which has just come off the stove still steaming, wearing scarves and toasty gloves, the way snow looks so absolutely magical falling at night and is highlighted by the glow of a streetlight.

I just love it all and the reason why my heart is full of happiness at the wonderment of each season and the difference in emotions they all bring, be it the birth of baby lambs in spring, the excitement of warm holidays and lazy evenings in summer to the way nature sheds its leaves in autumn and welcomes in winter with most amazing array of colours that only happen at this time of year.    

October 2009

3rd

Just returned from a wonderful holiday in Turkey, we stayed in a beautiful little coastal resort called Cesme. Apart from Istanbul this was the first time I was visiting the country and as such wanted to experience the actual local authentic and traditional way-of-life the Turks live. After reviewing the main popular tourist resorts such as Marmaris, Kusadasi and Bodrum, the laid back and relatively lack of mass tourist commercialism attracted me to this beautiful little spot on the Aegean Coast called Cesme.

The place thankfully didn’t disappoint and in addition to the friendly kick-back attitude of the locals, there were enough activities and things to experience locally before heading off into the surrounding areas to explore further.

Cesme has its own wonderful little castle dating from the 14th Century. It’s a really pretty and clean structure on a sloping hill, its well worth the visit and climb to the top of the highest point to gain some lovely views over the harbour and surrounding rooftops of the area.

There is an abundance of shops along the main street selling all manner of goods, including everything leather to pottery to some mighty fine Ice-Cream (the locals are particularly proud of their Mastic Gum Tree which they tend to use in most dishes, it appears to be a pretty versatile product and as such is worth buying a tub of the stuff which you'll easily find outside every corner shop to try in any of your own special dishes when you get home. For my own taste buds though, the Mastic flavoured Ice- Cream was nice but too rubbery for me and didn’t melt in a somewhat natural way!

Some of the finest beaches in the Aegean are just a short dolmus (inexpensive and frequent small shuttle-type bus where you just hop on and cross the drivers palm with lira, can get a little ‘intimate’ onboard as there seems to be no real limit to how many passengers the driver will accommodate. Be prepared to do the decent thing by giving up your seat for an elderly person or someone in greater need that you) ride away including Altinkum and Ilica which are both just fantastic and very beautiful.

Enjoyed so many lovely experiences including spending a fabulous day sailing aboard a handsome wooden boat and exploring the fabulously named Donkey Island (where Donkeys now roam freely after being left to their own devices by the locals many years ago. There is just one house on the Island where some locals live to oversee the welfare of the animals and a wind powered water-well is used to draw up water. It’s a wonderfully looking island with clear water in abundance) and playing poker with the locals using colourful different sized fruit as ‘chips’. People were so friendly and drunk ALOT of Turkish Tea, most people just want to offer it to you as honouring you as a guest in their country.

The markets in Turkey just have to be experienced. We managed to get fully immersed in the culture and sensory overload of one of the best which is located in Alacati just north of Cesme (which just happens to be one of the greatest wind surfing venues due to its extreme conditions). Your senses are assaulted with different smells, sights and sounds. Be prepared to haggle, HARD, as it seems to me that Turk salesman usually don’t really want you to take their first offer and enjoy the banter and mental swordsplay of two competitors engaging in the warfare of negotiation. One word of warning though, once you have reached a price acceptable to you on an item you REALLY want, complete the deal there and then, DO NOT say that you need a little more time to think and walk away to do so, if you do and then ultimately decide you cant do without the item don’t be surprised if the seller doesn’t honour your original lower price as it seen as very rude as in the original negotiation the seller would’ve dropped to as low or lower than he would’ve wanted in the hope of sealing the deal.

Had originally planned to visit Troy and Parmakule but sadly the distances were a little great to cover on this particular trip, but I look forward to exploring them next time.

Did visit the must see ancient site of Ephesus which is just excellent, very well preserved and to hear the history and walk in the paths of a brave man like Apostle Paul was amazing. It wasn’t hard with a little imagination to visualize how impressive the whole city must have looked when it was originally built as a lot of the buildings have survived very well throughout the past centuries.

Just one of the many interesting bits of information that I was told was that as Cleopatra and Mark Anthony strode down Harbour Way (the vast and impressive avenue linking the Harbour with the city, only a third of it has been excavated) the local Ephesians threw their most expensive Red Wine onto the ground in front of them and then Rose petals as a way to honour them and welcome them to the city. Nowadays to honour someone special, folk customarily get out a much more cost effective alternative and drape a red carpet symbolising the red wine and confetti the Roses, hay its cheaper I suppose to throw down a bit of red fabric that you’re finest Bordeaux :).

Another interesting but seedy titbit was that there was a secret tunnel within the Library to the local Brothel, and where the Woman would go and do her shopping, and her Husband could sweetly smile and innocently say ‘I’m just off to the Library, Honey’.

In all, it’s been a brilliant trip and I have enjoyed myself immensely. Just one of the things that struck me about this great country is how much they have embraced alternative energy solutions including wind farms and pretty much the vast majority of households being somewhat self sufficient by installing solar panels to capture the fruitage of the sun and harnessing it into useable electricity, free of charge and with a sound conscience. Here in the UK and other somewhat called developed nations we should really be more ECO friendly and embrace this technology much more that what we all currently do. I recently saw a showing of the film ‘The Age of Stupid’ and it clearly brings home the reality of just not doing anything. The clue is in the title.

I very much look forward to returning to Turkey one day, and relaxing again in its people’s warm hospitality and spending more time soaking up the atmosphere and history of this beautiful place.

June 2009

25th

The day the Music died

13th

I have 5 more backpacking trips (in addition to other adventures) which really interest me, some due to the scale of the challenge but mostly because of the people I will meet and the kind of landscape I will pass through. I will list them in the rough order I plan to accomplish them: 

Moldova to Moscow – Moldova, Ukraine, Belarus, Lithuania, Estonia, Finland, Moscow 

Greek Islands – Athens, Thermopylae, Marathon, Skopelos, Troy, Santorini, Crete, Zakynthos, Kefalonia, Ithaca, Lefkada, Parga, Paxos, Meteora, Thessalonica  

US of A - New York to California

New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, Mississippi, Arkansas, Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Utah, Nevada, California 

South American Adventure – Mexico to Argentina

Mexico City, Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Brazil, Paraguay, Bolivia, Chile, Argentina 

Iceland to Spain

Iceland, Norway, Sweden, Poland, Slovakia, Austria (Vienna), Italy (Venice, Rome), Sicily, Algeria, Tunisia, Morocco, Spain (Gibraltar, Seville, Malaga, Andalucia Mountains, Alicante, Valencia, Barcelona)

6th 

Well, I made it! I arrived in beautiful Vienna in good time after catching the early morning train yesterday. The journey took a little over 6 hours and as I left so early, I caught a wonderful sunrise. With a couple of connecting trains to Westbahnhoff I checked into The Lounge which if you ever in Vienna would recommend you check out, its very clean and bright, modern, the staff are super friendly, breakfasts are excellent and the rooms are just the right size. 

Westbahnhoff main train station is undergoing a massive redevelopment programme since I was last here and as such there billboards and construction happening all over which just makes the journey around this particular part a tad longer. 

After putting my stuff into my room, I was out and heading to phone my friend Duncan (who lives in Vienna) to confirm the time of when we were due to meet up. It was great to speak to him again and in a short while we had met up and were both heading to the Prater Park (which is an old fashioned amusement park filled with traditional fairground rides and some modern ones, it really is an incredible place and is so big, I would definitely urge you to make a trip here to discover it for yourself). 

We spent an absolutely wonderful day hanging out together, taking in a ride on the world famous Riesenrad Ferris wheel (which is one of the oldest of its kind in the world with its wooden carriages, and was actually designed by an Englishman called Walter Basset in 1897), the views on which are just fabulous. We shared an incredible meal outside at a beautiful old restaurant called Schweizerhaus and sat under the cool shade of some massive chestnut trees, sharing a platter of food and relieving the passing waiters of a little weight off their trays which were filled with pints of traditional beer. I had looked forward to meeting up again with Duncan all throughout my trip and this setting for our meal just made our time together even more special.

Wonderful conversation with a truly wonderful man who I am very proud to class as my good friend. 

After our meal we wandered around the enormous park just taking in the sights and then going on one of the most terrifying but equally exhilarating rides I have ever been on. You simply sat in what looked like a child’s swing seat side by side which was attached by chains to the top of this brightly glowing column of fear. We then rose slowly foot by foot whilst ever more swinging further out to the side as we rose higher until we were at an incredible height in the air and swinging wildly around the spinning column as if we were two pieces of cloth in the world’s biggest washing machine. I’ve been on some high rides in my life but never that high just sitting in a swing seat, it was literally breathtaking, and the views (when your eyes could actually focus) were out of this world. I’m glad I experienced that ride and I’m glad I experienced it with Duncan. 

When we finally descended back to terra firma and with slightly shaky legs, we spent the rest of the evening enjoying each others company, culminating in a beautiful coffee sitting outside the oldest coffee shop in Vienna. We sadly sad goodbye, hugged and departed for our respective homes, wonderful times and wonderful memories. 

I awoke very early the next morning to enjoy my final day on this trip, I had a lovely breakfast and headed out to soak up everything this beautiful day would throw at me. I caught a tram over to the amazing Schoenbrunn Palace and gardens (I’ve got such happy memories there and go every time I’ve been to Vienna, it’s so wonderful. The first time I ever went was one November and the Christmas season was in full swing. Brightly coloured trees, steaming mugs of punch were being brewed, laughter and cheer could be heard and felt everywhere, carol singers were in full song and typical Viennese food was being lovingly cooked. I love many things about Vienna including its beautiful architecture, its ease of getting around, its incredibly clean and efficient public transport, its hidden gems of history, its people, its style, its depth, its mystery, its food & drink but most of all how much you feel welcomed and how safe you feel at any time of the day or night. It really is just one of those most wonderful of places that seems to have it all and frequently does). 

I spent the rest of the day strolling around the beautiful gardens, and as they change all throughout the seasons it always feels new every time you go there, there’s so many special places you can just sit and just drink in the fabulous views and clean fresh air.  

I visited the oldest zoo in the world which is actually located inside the palace gardens which was just marvellous, you could tell the owners of the zoo REALLY cared for their enormous and beautiful collection of animals. All of the wildlife was housed in clean, open environments and were setup in such a way that in the favour of the animals, that if they didn’t want to be on display then they could easily move to an area where they couldn’t be seen, sometimes a little frustrating if you want to take a photograph but ultimately I so much preferred it this way as the animals were so much more happier and content. I loved all the animals but as always the monkeys were very cheeky and VERY cool. 

I drifted around Vienna very happily as if I was a floating leaf being gently blown around a beautiful pond, taking in all the sights I was familiar with and frequently going off route to discover new ones. I had a gorgeous meal in a restaurant I visit each time I come here, it’s so magical and subterranean. I was first introduced to it by Duncan when I came here the very first time and love it as much now as I did then. You really do feel like your going down into the bowels of the earth and as Duncan initially said as he stood looking at me on the top of the stairs as were about to descend ‘Its like a film-set, isn’t it?’ and do you know what, he was absolutely right. 

As time was getting sadly rapidly on, I chose to have my final coffee in proberly my favourite little coffee shop and I do mean ‘little’ as Kleines Café is the smallest coffee shop in Vienna. I sincerely love two wonderful films called ‘Before Sunrise & Before Sunset’, they are so real, intimate and just fantastic pieces of cinema and life really. After watching the first film, it moved me so much that I just had to come and personally see all the locations where the film was set, the location was actually Vienna and was the main reason I visited first of all Vienna all those years ago. I was lucky enough to track down all of the film locations and in doing so gained an even better representation and genuine love of the scale and mystery of Vienna; the locations are set quite far apart so were great from a travelling point of view. 

Kleines café featured in the film, and I remember the first time I visited there it was a magical feeling and each time I’ve been back that feeling hasn’t really left either the place or me. 

After spending a marvellous time there, I headed back to The Lounge to grab my stuff, say goodbye to the staff and get my connecting shuttle bus which would take me to Wien Airport. The journey was good and we made good time and as I settled back into the seat, memories of the different faces, places and experiences flooded back into my mind and a smile worked its way around my entire face. 

I’m so grateful as always for all the generosity, help and love of all the people I met and continue to meet. Everyone from the people who knew they had helped including the kind bus conductor in Albania who after I had got off after he had shown me the next way forward to complete my journey, actually stopped halfway down the road, asked his driver to turn around, came running up to me, hugged me and actually walked me to my next bus stop to ensure I definitely got on the right one, to the two kind boys in a shopping mall in Sarajevo who said they would show me personally wherever I wanted to go as in their broken English ‘We all family’, and to all the many people who helped in minor ways and maybe didn’t think they helped but just by being themselves and creating a fabulous atmosphere made the journey so much more fun and special. 

I checked in through security and as I await for my final transport to carry me home I think about how best to put this journey into context and I feel the best way I suppose I can summarise this adventure is through the words of a trip I went upon. The only requirements that day was to ‘Bring a camera and good feeling’, and do you know what, I came away on this adventure with good feeling, and I’m leaving with even better ones. 

Ashley (Wombats – The Lounge/Wien Airport, Vienna, Austria, 06/06/09)

5th

I can safely say that Ljubljana is one of the best places on earth I have had the pleasure of visiting; I love it here so much. 

I arrived at Ljubljana’s well maintained train station after a short but enjoyable journey from Belgrade. Enroute I had ticked off the activities and places that interested me the most from my trusty copy of my ‘Ljubljana in your pocket’ guide (I can heartily recommend all of the ‘In your pocket’ guides, they are so good, very well written by actual locals who obviously not only know the place inside out but passionately enjoy living there. They are updated and published locally so have all current and relevant details including currency info, time differences, visa requirements, accommodation to stay in, places to visit including those local, and off the beaten track if your adventurous spirit needs to be satisfied further. 

I found the nearest TIC office (Tourist Information Centre) which is located inside the train station and was greeted by one of the most helpful and kind ladies I have had the pleasure of meeting, there wasn’t really anything she didn’t know about Ljubljana and explained everything in a pleasant but authorative manner. As I described all the many places that interested me, she quickly and efficiently circled all the locations on my map; she was really just a pleasure to meet. 

I then stepped out into the throng of the city and followed my map to what would be my first hostel whilst exploring Ljubljana. Just one of the many things I really love about this place is the ease of getting about, after a short while you really do feel you get to know the place intimately and the atmosphere is that of a bustling yet most friendly place. 

After a really pleasant walk through the streets and stopping sporadically (as I generally do to either take a few photos, admire the surroundings or just converse in a conversation with a local) I found my accommodation, The Fluxus Hostel. 

Fluxus is housed in an inconspicuous building, where only a small sign on the outside wall beside a large iron door gives any hint to its location. Once through the door, you have the pleasure of walking up a beautifully ornate spiral staircase to the upper floors where Fluxus is located, the inside of the building really reminded of a beautiful collection of apartments you would typically find in an exclusive part of London, it was really a pleasant surprise. 

I was greeted on arrival by a wonderful lady called Antonia who was both enthusiastic and fun, she told me about all the wonderful experiences I would be enjoying here and also advised of a visit to a shopping area on the outskirts of town called BTC, I promised I would make the effort of visiting there within the next few days, it actually turned out to be much more than I was expecting, I think the best analogy is that to me it was Lakeside Shopping Complex on Steroids! I was then shown to where I would be sleeping which consisted of a large, naturally well lit room and a number of clean bunk beds, there was a shower facilities in an adjoining room which was also very clean, I was in all very happy with my choice of staying here. After unpacking my rucksack, saying hi to a really nice girl called Emily who was from Australia; I grabbed my daysack and decided to get out exploring. 

The rest of the afternoon consisted of me finding, enjoying and ticking off all the wonderful places I had researched, and been told about I just had to visit. The very first place I headed was a wonderful tea shop called KavaCaj (simply named CoffeeTea) with a beautiful balcony and comfortable oversized wicker chairs on the upstairs terrace in which to relax in. This place was recommended by my good friend Duncan, and as I relaxed in one of the wicker chairs with the warm sun on my face and an Iced coffee, Croissant and a delicious pot of the wonderfully named ‘Sunshine Tea’ on the table in front of me, I was definitely content and in a very happy place which I enjoyed immensely. 

After feeling refreshed and fully relaxed I stepped out from the wonderful surroundings of KavaCaj and continued onto my next little circles of enjoyment on my map. I visited amongst others the House of experiments, the beautiful structure that is the triple bridge (especially when lit up on the night time), Zmajskimost (Dragon Bridge), Ljubljana Castle (just below the castle is another TIC office and I hired a mini walking tour mp3 player with colour screen which acted as an interactive guide, where you listened to the history of the areas and visually were shown where you should be walking on the dinky screen. It was a cool idea and something which more cities should provide for tourists especially if you don’t want to go on a guided tour with a large crowd but prefer to walk at your own pace and fully explore without the feeling that you have to press on just to keep up with the allotted timescale that is usually set for general walking tours), the trip up to the castle was quite cool as I was told there would be a hillside train, in reality, myself and my fellow passengers embarked slowly up the steep gradient of the hill in what can only be lovingly described as the glass elevator in Willy Wonka’s world, it was one of those many occasions in life where something is completely different to what has been described to you, but in actual fact turns out to be much more memorable because it is different to what you were expecting. 

The castle itself and surrounding views are very nice, something you must make the effort of seeing if you come to Ljubljana. I then spent the rest of the day exploring the rest of my itinerary and frequently coming across places that were unexpected. Tivoli Park is a grand old park which is rather beautiful, I was told that if I visited there I must visit a well known and delightful establishment (well, It’s actually a kiosk) simply called ‘Hot Horse’, which specialises in serving Horseburgers! Now, I’m not a vegetarian but am a animal lover, and somehow the thought of eating a horse in a burger didn’t do it for me and so I decided to head over to have something to eat at a restaurant that was heartily recommended to me called the ‘Thai Inn Pub’. It’s a very cool place with a brightly lit up actual tuk-tuk taking pride of place in the front entrance, the staff were really pleasant and the food was typical Thai affair which in other words is ‘Tasty’ J. 

I then went onto Joze Plecnik’s House, who was a very famous architect in Ljubljana who designed many of the grandest buildings. His original house he lived and worked in has now been made into a museum with regular guided tours around the different rooms; the house itself is pretty awesome. The location of the house is very pretty and after walking around the splendid and well kept gardens, I could just imagine how he would sit out there and be at peace whilst the delightful fragrances of all the flowers helped his mind bubble and concoct all his beautiful creations, it truly is a magical little area. 

In the evening, after exploring many side streets, having tea in one of the most famous tea rooms in Ljubljana called ‘Cha’, (a truly wonderful place with a teapot sign hanging out front, I can easily see why its so fondly thought of and why its so popular), I headed onto a Turkish restaurant called Yildiz Han which is a little trek just outside the main town. It was worth the journey. The staff there were really fantastic including a wonderful guy called Dzevad. The interior and exterior of the place was really cool, all rugs and comfortable chairs. On certain nights they have authentic belly dancing which I’m told is pretty great and just adds to the general ambience of this little gold nugget of a place. After having a wonderful chicken meal with fragrant rice and the freshest vegetables I think I’ve experienced on this trip, I relaxed outside on the veranda under the covering of natural wood, and fell back into the most incredibly comfortable coloured cushions. Turkish tea was served throughout the night, which if you’ve never had a genuine Turkish tea, comes in what looks plainly like an oversized shot glass which is large at the top end, it has no handles, and as the tea always has to be piping hot, can make holding it I suspect a little too warm for comfort for some people, the finishing ingredient is a cube or two of brown sugar, it really is a wonderful little drink. 

As I lay there surrounded by good company and the sound and fruity smell of the odd Narghile pipe gurgling and then being gently exhaled (I was told that the tobacco content of the pipes is generally about 2% or so), it was a true Turkish experience and was second only to my time spent in Sarajevo and also when I was last in Istanbul. 

I said my goodbyes to the great guys who worked there and with a mind content of another full day headed back to the Fluxus as I wanted to get a little kip and feel refreshed as I was awaking early the next day because I was checking into my next accommodation, the former prison that is the ‘Celica Hostel’ by 8am. I had booked to go on a 4-in-1 adventure in the Bohinj region that included rock-climbing up a natural 75ft rock, abseiling down 150ft cliff, a spectacular mountain bike tour and the final cherry on the cake: mini rafting on the host of world wild water kayak & canoe championships – Sava River. I was very excited. 

I arrived back at the Hostel, met a wonderful lady called Melita who had taken over from Antonia, had a lovely chat and then was greeted by three new faces in my room. They were all really nice guys, one girl was from the US, and the two guys were from France. They told me that they were on a roadtrip driving their own vehicle to Dubrovnik leaving again for the call of the road tomorrow. Emily from Australia who I met when I first arrived said she had been asked to join them and decided to go as it was going to be company on the way through to Dubrovnik especially as she was travelling alone.  

She explained that they were going to stop on the way at Zadar, she described there being an amazing sea organ with a series of pipes that whistle and moan as the sea passes over them. Quite an eerie, beautiful and haunting sound. It all sounded like quite a trip and I would’ve loved if I had more time to travel with them down to Zadar and then onto Dubrovnik which I had heard so much about, especially as my parents had been staying there for the past week and sung its virtues. 

After wishing them best wishes and all the best for their next stage on their own personal adventure I retired to bed with the expectation of a fantastic day to come the next day, little did I know then that disappointment would loom but then turn into such a good turn of events, but then sometimes it works out that way. 

I awoke bright and breezy the next morning, collected my stuff, threw my backpack on, said goodbye to the owner of Fluxus who was a lovely friendly guy called Miran, thanked him for making me feel so welcome, and headed out into the cool morning air. It was a bright clear morning, one of those mornings that makes you so happy your just alive on this beautiful planet of ours and makes your heart and mind swell at the expectation of a great day to some. 

I strolled through the streets on my way to the Celica Hostel, people were busily going about their business and the whole area felt like it had a purpose about it. After a lovely walk, I was standing outside Celica. With its walls full of graffiti and general low-key appearance I hoped the inside would be quite smart, I wasn’t disappointed. 

The general area surrounding Celica is pretty downtrodden (and on the night time can be even much more of a sight, I checked out pretty much most of the area and even though you have to keep your wits about you as you do kinda feel it could kick off at any given moment, the people are pretty friendly and there is no trouble) as most of the site is a former Army Barracks which fell into disrepair, its now a social centre created when ‘artists’ (this is a very liberal use of the word artist as I would coin it, as most of the artwork is very abstract to say the least and the word Graffiti should be without doubt be used to described most of it) decided to take over the Barracks and call it home for themselves. A place where they actually live, work, love and dance at, usually I was forewarned until the early hours, in actual fact it’s usually until anything from 5 till 7am. The deep thumping of all manner of different genres of music including reggae & rock gets pretty melodic and you get pretty used to it and as long as your cell in Celica isn’t too close to the noise, a good nights sleep is pretty easy to get. A number of quite famous local art organisations and rock clubs including Gromka and Klub Channel Zero play host here. 

I checked into Celica, and was amazed at how cool the inside was. You can tell the owners have worked very hard to maintain the general feel and ambience of the original prison but brought it bang up to date with excellent furnishings and a very clean feel. Every area, including the brilliant breakfast room, outside terrace, common room, dining area and reception were top class and much more than you could expect looking at the outside, definitely an inner peaceful haven surrounded by an outside full of decay, if that wise saying ‘never judge a book by its cover’ was ever more true than of this place then I think you’d be hard pressed to find it. 

I was told my cell I had booked wasn’t quite yet ready, but I could leave my gear in the luggage room. And so I was given a key to it which hilariously has all many of extremely large items attached to it including what appeared to be a plastic bowl the kind you would use to put washing powder in a washing machine, I presume that it was intended to prevent any thoughts of you suddenly and spontaneously running off with the key, I was glad to give the thing back, as it would’ve been quite obvious what was in my pocket anyhow J 

I asked the receptionist that I was booked onto the 4-in-1 Bohinj trip which was due to depart in a short while from the Hostel, unfortunately and disappointly I was told that the trip had been unexpectantly and at the last moment cancelled. No other trips were planned for that day. I asked if I could get a bus or train to the Bohinj region and arrange my own activities when I got there, she said that was indeed possible, so that is what I decided to do. I walked to the main train station and just outside is where all the coaches and buses line up under placards announcing where they are travelling to.  

I must say that public transport in Eastern Europe really puts the ones back in Britain to shame, even though the transport may not be as shiny or new as back in the UK (but then again you only have to go on a London tube or any train departing from London to be amazed at how unclean inside and out some of those NEW trains are, it never ceases to amaze me how anyone can get any personal satisfaction by carving up the windows in the carriages so you just have an obscure view to the outside world as you travel along) you can usually set your watch by them, they turn up on time, the drivers are friendly and the costs are so much cheaper than the equivalent distance you would expect to pay back home. Britain has sadly lost many aspects of what made it Great Britain, including good customer genuine service and a fair cost for the services you pay for.  I’ve always found that in life it’s the people with the fewest material possessions who are usually the most friendliest, genuine and will give you anything they own. They seem to have the right heart condition towards love and people and have the right attitude towards storing up material treasures and that they are not as ultimately important or rewarding as storing up firm relationships and treasures in the form of good family and true friends. 

I decided that on the way to the beautiful region that is Bohinj that I would stop for a couple of hours at Lake Bled, an area I had heard so much about including the naturally beautiful scenery and its Castle. I jumped on the right bus, bought my ticket and settled back into my seat for what was to turn out a day to remember. The journey down was really pleasant and just the right length, as we was getting close to Lake Bled, I got chatting to a beautiful lady called Monica from Australia who was in Ljubljana on a work conference (its strange who you meet in life and quite unexpectantly, little did I know what an incredible day I would spend with both Monica and soon to be introduced Tim. That’s what I love about travelling and having an open heart and mind, you should never turn down an opportunity really, you never know where it might lead and you may just have some of the best experiences of your life). 

I explained that I was planning on spending a little time at Lake Bled but then going onto Bohinj to explore. She asked if it would be alright to spend the time in Bled together, I thought it was an absolute pleasure. Whilst we were about to enter in Bled’s very own and small Tourist Information Centre to get some info and maybe a map of the area, an American called Tim got chatting to us. He was an absolute gentleman and we all decided to spend the time we had in Bled together and then afterwards travel by another bus onto Bohinj.  

After speaking with the Tourist Information lady who was very helpful, we decided to start our Bled trek from the Vintgar Gorge and so all shared a taxi up to the start of the gorge. 

After a wonderful drive we then spent the next few hours walking through this beautiful tree filled valley filled with wildlife, raging currents, deep slow moving pools filled with trout ( Tim commented that for the amount of fish that were showing , the water must have been almost good enough to drink as it was so clear), we followed the wooden platforms which hugged the side of the gorge and almost at any stage wherever you looked you took in a beautiful view of one of natures finest and breathtaking offerings. 

We reached the end of the trail and then headed up a steep wooded incline which cumulated in a magical open area filled with small flowers and surrounded by trees. It really was a special place, the air was clean, the sun was shining and being in the company and getting to know two wonderful people really made this stunning landscape I was walking through even more special and perfect. 

When we finally had reached the highest point of the journey and began our descent down, we could see the Castle in the distance, which we all agreed on, seemed to be much further still away than we expected J. The views were glorious and we had a nice time just ambling through the lanes towards our destination. At one point we came across some modern tractors in a field which were going about their business of toiling in the fields, on the road beside the field sat an old man who was sitting in what looked like an carved-out upturned old wooden boat with wheels and who was holding the reins to an equally old but still sprightly horse ahead of him. This type of apparatus would be the original type of transport that would churn the fields and then bring the crops and produce home for the farmers family to enjoy. It was enlightening to see both old and modern methods of farming side by side. I’m sure the horse was glad that technology had overtaken natural horsepower in this respect. 

When we finally reached the Castle after another steep climb, we all had a lovely time just exploring this old but beautiful structure and its many rooms. In one was a reconstructed Gutenberg printing machine and we were shown a demonstration of how master printers of old would use the equipment, it was really impressive and just showed how in a way I suppose we all take modern equipment including computers and their ease of use for granted. 

One of my finest memories of being at the castle was after we had bought an ice cream and we just sat overlooking the wall looking out onto the wonderful vista which surrounded us including mountains in the distance, forests, and Lake Bled shimmering in the warm afternoon sunlight directly in front of us complete with its own island (which is the only natural Island in Slovenia). It was a fantastic time and one of those moments that lives long in the memory. 

We left the castle and headed down another steep wooded hillside which was to be the quickest way down as we had to catch the last connecting bus which would enable us to get to Bohinj in time, where we had planned to get off at the last bus-stop and walk the 45 mins to what had been described to us as a beautiful and awe inspiring waterfall. 

After a really pleasant walk around the lake (it was nice to be able to look up at the castle and see all the mountains from a different lower perspective), we managed after asking a number of people where the final bus stop was we found it only to have a very sad thing happen. We saw a bus just pulling in to the lay-by up ahead, I ran the last 15 or 20 metres to try and hold up the bus, only for the time it took for the doors to open and me jump onboard to be told by the driver that we should be on the other side of the road! Just as he was telling me, he suddenly started frantically waving

at a bus in front of him which was coming down the road from the other direction! By the time I had got off and was trying and wave down the bus myself, the bus had passed and had gone on off up the road and with it our last chance to reach Bohinj in time. The driver hadn’t even correctly stopped at the bus stop, I learnt afterwards that in Slovenia and in some surrounding countries that most of the time if the bus driver doesn’t see anyone standing up at the stop, he wont stop, even if its raining and the prospective passenger is sitting and taking shelter in the wooden hut which passes as the bus stop. 

It was quite sad we didn’t make the connecting stop, because for me when I am set or set myself a challenge to complete I just have to complete it but much moreso on this occasion from a emotional point of view, I just simply wanted to spend more time in the company of Monica and Tim and wanted to fully complete our collective journey we had set out on. The next bus was an hour away and if we had taken it we wouldn’t have had time to make our connecting bus back to Ljubljana. 

We decided to have some lunch in a nearby delightful little roadside café, where we had wonderful conversations and waited for the next bus home.  

When we arrived back in Ljubljana, I was sad to say goodbye to both Monica and Tim but also very privileged and pleased to have met and get to know two really genuine and caring individuals. Me and Monica wished each other well for our respective journeys and said goodbye. Tim though said that as he was staying not far from where I was at the Celica, he asked if it was alright if he could see it for himself as he had heard a lot about this converted former prison, it was a pleasure to have his company for a longer time. 

What followed was an evening of truly open and wonderful personal discussions of experiences of life and love between us, Tim was teacher from California and I enjoyed his views on life very much. We shared bottles of this truly great Tequila Beer, I hadn’t had it before but it sure was nice. 

Later in the evening, one of the receptionists came to our table where we sat at the outside terrace and apologised but said my 2^nd trip I had prebooked with them had unfortunately been cancelled. I was due to be going on a trip called the ‘Karst & Coast Mystery’, where we would’ve left early the next morning by coach to first of all visit the medieval Prejama Castle with a dramatic setting in the gaping mouth of a cavern halfway up a hillside. The tour then continued onto one of the largest and most beautiful caves in Europe called Skocjan Caves. Then onto Koper, Izola and Portoroz and then onto everyone’s favourite seaside town on the coast – Piran. We was then to head onto Lipica which is the homeland of the white Lipizzaner (the amazing white horses which are kept in Vienna and trained to almost dance and show off their skills, they are chosen not only for their distinctive look but for their intelligence and temperant – it would’ve been really lovely to see them in their natural habitat as I’ve seen them when I’ve visited Vienna before), after visiting the horses we were due to finish the tour in one of the typical Karst wine cellars with wine and the famous karst dried ham tasting sessions. 

I was really looking forward to this trip due to the amount of ground that would be covered and the variety of activities that would take place but things do happen and I decided that I would instead visit the other and most famous UNESCO cave in Slovenia – Postojna Cave, as I couldn’t makeup the original itinerary myself as there wasn’t any direct public transport connecting routes.  

It was really quite late when Tim suggested we go and see if any bars were open, we spent a really pleasant time strolling around the streets together but unfortunately we couldn’t find any bars that were still open. So we each said a fond goodbye to each other and headed to our respective accommodations and the promise of a good nights sleep. 

Early next morning I was up and heading to the train station to catch my morning train to Postojna Caves. Before I caught the train, I decided to buy my train ticket for my journey the next day to Vienna. The time I wanted was shortly after 9am, but the cost was three times that of any other journey I had made thus far, as I couldn’t justify the cost as it was a bit of a rip-off and the ticket staff couldn’t provide a valid explanation WHY the hike in price was so great, I decided to purchase an earlier time ticket which worked out a third of the cost. Now that’s more like it I thought, the downside…the time of departure was shortly after 5am next morning, as I was expecting a late night I was a little concerned, but then I love challenges, and hah I had faith I would get up and to the station on time…well sort of J 

My train for Postojna Caves arrived, I got on and the carriages slowly pulled away. After a nice journey and then a connecting shuttle bus at the following end to the Caves. I was immersed in the inky blackness of this magical natural underground labyrinth, it was an incredible place, but I do feel too commercial which unfortunately loses some of the appeal to me. Too many people, not as organised as it could be and most of the tour felt like it was on rails (a large proportion literally was!), another downside was incredibly no photographs was allowed which was a bit disappointing for me from a photographic angle. 

None the less, I had an enjoyable time at the Caves and then I was on my return journey back to base as I had decided to check out the BTC shopping complex which Antonia had initially recommended when I arrived at the Fluxus. Once back at Lubljana train station, I crossed the road and caught bus 17 to the BTC. 

It truly was a fantastic place, a gargantuan place, with all manner of outlet centre dotted around and a massive main mall with some of the nicest shops I have seen, that’s what I enjoy about shopping in different countries, a lot of the items you cant get back at home and quite a few of the items you can are actually rebranded differently, it always keeps the shopping experience fresh for me. 

After an enjoyable time trying to get my bearings and exploring this wonderland of spending. I decided to get something to eat and catch a movie at the cinema which had been recommended to me, the mightily impressive Kolosej, massive screens, excellent sound system, friendly staff and the whole building was clean as a whistle. The symbol of the cinema outside was shaped like the Coliseum of Rome, I can see why, they were trying to create a structure in cinema terms that was on an equally impressive scale and they have actually easily achieved that. 

I don’t usually eat burgers, but proberly the best one I have ever had in my life was whilst I was in Amsterdam and I went to an Argentinean restaurant which sold just purely Argentinean beef, the difference in taste was amazing. The only other meat that could touch it was when I tried my first buffalo burger in Colorado. So with this memory in mind, I was delighted to read on the BTC map that there was an Argentinean restaurant called ‘Argentino’. It was a wonderful place, absolutely huge and based on a classic Argentinean hacienda on two levels with further seating outside. Featuring vast paintings, enormous mirrors, video projectors, a fabulous bar and an even lovelier open kitchen. 

As it was a clear and crisp evening, I sat outside at this wonderful round table with the backrest made out of an old wooden wagon wheel! 

The food was delicious, and I even fed some of my bread to two small birds who adopted me as their third amigo it seemed, they actually ate out of my hand, they were so sweet and tame. 

I left feeling content and looking forward to going to the cinema, I chose to see the latest instalment of the Terminator films, this one was with Christian Bale and it was pretty good. When I go abroad, I absolutely LOVE going to the cinema, it could be in addition to all the craziness of finding out and immersing yourself in the new culture you find yourself in, the cinema is always wherever you are just a cinema, you feel instantly at home. Sometimes the people are more passionate and sometimes their not.

The snacks and popcorn are the same, the drinks are the same, its just in addition to subtitles on all English speaking films, the experience is just…well different. I remember going to New York and seeing a film in one of the cinemas there and was fascinated and thought it was great how the New Yorkers expressed themselves in front of the big screen, they were so much more vocal that their British cousins. They would scream and shout and laugh and argue all as if they were the only ones there and if they were actually showing their emotions to the actors on screen. I thought it was incredible, anything went and frequently it did. 

Eastern European cinema is similar, they seem to massively enjoy comedies and are so vocal and all laugh heartily and with such feeling that even the most hard hearted person could not be infected by the infectious of it all. 

I’ve seen quite a few movies and visited some fabulous cinemas on my journey this time, all have been great, and you can see that the cinema owners really take pride in their establishments and want you to have a great time. 

After the credits had rolled, I stepped out into the crisp darkness of the night and headed to the nearest bus stop for my journey home. Upon discovering my last bus had gone, I hailed a taxi and what followed was a crazy little ride through the streets and me finally being deposited outside the bosom of the Celica, I thanked the driver, gave an extra trip for not only being able to control the speed of his obviously mind-of-its-own herbie vehicle, but getting me back in one piece.  

Well, as it now the early hours, and I’ve just packed all my stuff for tomorrow’s early departure, I will bid you a fond goodnight. The receptionist on the front counter has kindly said he will give me a knock in the morning so hopefully with my watch and his knock I will be able to do another blog soon if I catch my train on time tomorrow! we will see J  

Life’s a constant adventure; the best way is to live it. 

Ashley (Hostel Celica, Ljubljana, 05.06.09)

1st

I’ve had an incredible time here in Zagreb; my accommodation has been great and my hosts superb. I had an adventurous night time train ride from Sarajevo which took over 10 hours, unfortunately I couldn’t book a sleeping compartment as there simply wasn’t any, so I had to spend the whole journey in a normal carriage which worried me slightly as I’ve heard the many cautionary tales from friends and fellow travellers about what has happened on the midnight expresses whilst they have been asleep.

So with one eye open and the other sleeping, I eventually succumbed to slumber in the early hours only to be awoken by a shaven headed man pulling vigorously at my bags, once awake he screamed some unintelligible words and ran off down the corridor. Thankfully I had invested in a cable lock to add to my kit before I left, which I wrapped through my bags and onto the seat struts of the train for security, and just based on this one occasion it was well worth the money as it saved my bags from being pinched. Well, it’s all part of life’s great adventure and I suppose the score is Ashley 1, Thieves 0, so yah.

The city of Zagreb is pretty nice, relatively easy to get around and I’ve seen so much in my short time here. I’ve been on one of the world’s shortest funicular trains which was very cool. As I settled into my seat for the short journey up the hill (the train was packed with adults and children) and just as the train began to move there was the loudest bang I think I’ve ever heard, the whole carriage shook, a great start to a journey that was going to take us all virtually vertical up the hillside. I looked around the cabin but no one batted an eyelid, I later found out that the bang was made by a cannon positioned right above the train and is fired historically. The gist of the story goes that the owner of the tower got so fed up with the churches for their laxisdasical and sporadic ringing of the church bells at wrong time of day, he took matters into his own hands, fitted the cannon, and exactly on the hour he lets the cannon rip to announce that it’s the correct time for the bells to start ringing. I believe the churches have got better now at ringing on time, but the cannon is still fired as a comical custom.

At the top, there is a wonderful view of Zagreb perfectly complimented by the beautiful guitar strings of a lovely man called Tom Evergreen, he said he had been on the same corner for the past 8 years, he was a really wonderful musician and the melodies he strummed were really fantastic. It was one of those special moments in life that felt truly magical. I had just arrived in a beautiful new city I hadn’t been to before, I had the accomplishment of the journey and here I was standing overlooking a beautiful vista with heavenly music swaying gently through the air, it was absolute bliss.

Afterwards, I went to the top of a nearby tower (complete with freshly fired cannon) to get an even better view, after climbing a seemingly endless wooden spiral staircase I was out on the roof, and the way the platform is positioned you really do feel like you are standing on the one of the highest rooftops, I met two wonderful Americans who were vacationing and were on a free day from their coach trip.

They explained that in addition to seeing some beautiful sights, they had just come from seeing the painting of Mary which alledgingly saved itself from the fire that had burnt the entire church in which it was housed. I just had to see this alledged miracle of salvation. It is housed rather inconspicuously under a small dark archway, with wooden seats to one side where the faithful can sit and contemplate, but the majority of people were directly in front of the painting which was housed behind large iron gates. Ladies and gentlemen of differing ages where kneeling, praying and crying in front of this inanimate object and just behind there was a large metal grill where hundreds of lit and melted candles of different shapes and sizes were burning and twisting into grotesque shapes. There was a lady with a small hand shovel indescrimately it seemed moving the remains of the burnt out ones around this fiery cauldron of prayers.

I suppose being abit naïve and feeling that the church would be giving this candles free to their congregation as a way of honouring what they perceived a miracle in that a faded painting was miracoulsly saved I was amazed that this wasn’t the case. As I approached the door of the little but well advertised souvenir shop which was located just to the right of the painting, the sound of clinking money was deafening. There were two ladies who I took as nuns, in their black and white garb, bent over a small wooden desk with an enormous pile of coins in front of them. Clink, Clink, Clink, this noise didn’t stop as the money was siphoned off into little money bags and neatly piled up in the far corner of the desk. The longer I stood there, the louder the counting of change become and the more stooped the nuns became over the table, seemingly oblivious to anything apart from the counting of their wealth.

On the front counter lay different shaped candles that could be bought to be sacrificed in the pit outside, ranging from a few euros to over ten euros. Even in alledgingly gods own house, there is room for people to flaunt their worth with candles symbolising the wealth of someone and presumably in their own mind that they have given a more worthy gift than that of someone who is poor and can only afford a small candle.

I personally thought it was a disgrace that this church charged its followers money to pay their respects to what they obviously passionately believe in, if the feverously praying outside was anything to go by. The saying is that ‘God created all men equal’, but obviously it seems that to the church, they will view you differently if you have a few more euros more to spend.

I spent the rest of the day exploring the area and ticking off the list of must see things I had researched already back at home.

After a wonderful nights sleep, I got up early and caught the bus to the magical waterfall paradise that is Plitvice Lakes National Park. Whilst I was planning this backpacking trip, there were many sights that I couldn’t wait to get to and experience and Plitvice was definitely up there with the rest of them. An old friend once said to me that before she went on a journey somewhere new that she was really looking forward to, she used to use her imagination and write down as if she’s already been there, the look of the place, the things she experienced, the general vibe and ambience of the area, and then rewrote the actual experience she had when she returned home and then matched up the accounts to see how closely her vision of the place would be compared to that of reality. She said with the places she was intensely looking forward to, her imagination almost always matched the reality, so with this technique in mind, my visions of what I was going to experience at Plitvice were going to give the reality version a lot to live up to.

Plitivice didn’t disappoint. In fact it was better in a lot of ways to how I imagined, I could’ve spent so much more time there. I met a wonderful Canadian call Rob, and he felt personally that even though back home there were much taller waterfalls and much more grander expanses of water, here was something so magical as that wherever you looked there was always some form of life going on, the place was literally alive with commotion. One of the greatest hikes I have ever been on.

The weather was great for us, and I had lunch in what can only be described as the atypical dream of an amercian summer camps, with large log cabins, and food being flame grilled on oven fires, absolutely wonderful.

Even when the weather turned a little later in the afternoon, and people pulled on their colourful ponchos, I still just had to explore, I meandered down the wonderful rough-cut wooden floorboards that hovered sometimes just inches over the little lakes that crisscrossed through the park, the depth of the water in places was very deep and as the boards were now sodden wet, it all just added to the adventure of the place. The water was crystal clear and fish swam in abundance. There was one area which had sunken trees and seemingly no life in it, but as I know from my many experiences fishing, where you think there is no life there is usually an immeasurable amount. I threw a tiny part of my cereal bar into the water and wondered how long it take, within moments the pool was alive with the sight of numerous differently shaped fish fighting and swirling over the little morsel I had tempted them out with.

I had been told that further into the park there were bears which were honoured with being the national symbol of Plitvice. Unfortunately (or fortunately) I didn’t see any on my trip this time .

So, with a full heart of emotion and an imagination fully vindicated, I returned back to Zagreb with memories of my time here that won’t be easily forgotten.

Tomorrow I travel by train onto Ljubljana in Slovenia, the journey time is estimated at only 2 and a half hours so will be the shortest travelling time of my journey. I’m really looking and have a lot of things planned, including my Bohinj 4-in-1 adventure which involves first rock-climbing up 75ft, abseiling down 150ft, then off-road mountain biking and cumulating in white water rafting. My other trip planned is the Coast and Karst adventure, where I will visit Skocjan Caves (one of the most spectacular cave systems in the world and UNESCO protected), then onto Piran on the coast, a wonderful seaside town full of history, afterwards we will visit where the famous white Lipizzani horses roam (which will tie in when I visit Vienna again, as I’ve already seen when I last visited there where they are kept and officially trained), then we will finish off at one of the local taverns with the infamous ham and wine tasting.

So until the journey continues tomorrow, I will get some shuteye and bid you all a good night and sweet dreams.

Ashley (Zagreb, Hobo Bear Hostel, 01.06.09)

May 2009

30th

Well Im in Sarajevo! Train journey was long and eventful, even got final directions off a russian chess champion who was his way to a tournament!, like I've said before people are so friendly. I also met an absolutely fantastic guy called David who was from Canada, he was an absolute gem, extremely funny, kind and totally genuine with an adventurous spirit.

Sarajevo is an incredible, naturally beautiful place surrounded by beautiful countryside, people are great. Im staying near the old Turkish Quarter, accomodation is clean and tidy and hosts are lovely. Area is so full of history, just down the cobbled lane and around the corner are two bombed out buildings. There is also a brilliant little patisserie just around the corner where I get my croissants in the morning :)

This whole area is full of cobbled streets, old wooded market shops, tiled roofs and old Ottaman tea and coffee shops. Woken by bells in morning, there are such a varied collection of religious building, Mosques, Temples and Churches. Have found little known but superb team rooms, complete with carpet on the floor and fruit gas shisha pipes, brilliant atmosphere.

Shared a bottle or two :) of guiness with locals in the only Irish bar in Sarajevo yesterday night, incredible place and music a mixture of western and local, excellent fusion and vibe.

The main street, Ferhadija, is a really incredible place where it feels like you are walking along a time capsule, the buildings change through the ages from beautiful Viennese style architecture to ancient Ottaman style buildings all surrounded by impressive Mosques, Temples and Churches. 

Saw the Illuminated Haggadah at the National Museum, massive place and the Manuscript has its own room and guard carefully looking over their most prized posession, the Museum is also a Natural History Museum.

Have crossed over the Latin bridge and seen the eternal flame and the new memorial for all the children that were lost, both very moving.

Have met so many wonderful people here its quite untrue. Searched out one of the towns most prestigious cafe/restaurants (locally known as Sweet Shops), Palma, located in Grbavica. What a beautiful place, really lovely inside and has an amazing fountain outside that is described as a flower blossoming, I cant think of a more accurate discription. Its so sureal there though as Palma takes up some of the bottom floor of a old tower block and it, and all the surrounding buildings bear the marks of bullets and schrapnel wounds. Such a vivid reminder of all that the good people here went through during the onslaught of the 92-95 war (proberly would be more apt to call it a massacre). Even though I suppose the buildings could be plastered over or be rebuilt, I suppose two things proberly leave things the way they are, 1. is finances and 2. and more importantly from a community position, it seems to show to me that the people are saying, 'Yeah, Look how we suffered, we were knocked down, we took punishment, we lost our young, and our old to evil men and the horrors of war, but you know what, WE are still here, we are still standing, just like our buildings have been knocked about, they havent been knocked down, they havent been destroyed - WE havent been destroyed'. I think this is the highest compliment I can give to this incredible nation of people, they are survivors and they do so with a kind heart and with grace and style. 

Have booked to visit the 'Tunnel of Hope' at 2pm today. It was the only way in for supplies and a way for the injured to get out throughout the entire time the city was under seige for nearly 4 years. You can actually walk through the tunnel, should be very emotional.

Got a few more sights to tick off before I catch the bus there, will need another cup of turkish tea to keep me going :).

I'm leaving on the night train to Zagreb tonight, have been told it should take about 10 hours or so, but what with the border security and the way most of trains just seem to sporadically stop on the line for no apparent reason, its anyones guess :)

I'll be sad to leave Sarajevo, will definately be coming back and next time will spend more time here, travelling out to the National parks a few hours or so drive away, hiking, seeing the waterfalls, mountain peaks and experiencing the adventure sports side of this beautiful country.

Anyhow, having an incredible time, the journey continues.

Look after yourselves and catch you later

Ashley (Sarajevo, Hostel Posillipo, nr turkish Quarter, 30.05.09)   

27th

Well I'm on the road, and its fantastic. Tirane and Skopje were great, people are genuinely friendly and go out of their way to help, and so much to see and do. Feels like I've been gone so long, have seen and done so much. Been very fortunate with my accomodation, owners and places have been fantastic. Have been up Tirane's local mountain and hiked in the forests at the top, the cable cars that take you up are an experience to enjoy :). Have tried all manner of local delicacies including the local firewater - Raki, the soulmate of Ouzo! I stopped short of sampling the lambs intestines in Tirane though. Testicle soup was served in a local restaurant as well, better than you might think. Here also in Belgrade you have not only grilled carp and a catfish as a side dish, but also a plate of bowels and a main course of calfs head with tripe!

Old Market Bazaars,  playing frogger with the local traffic, negotiating around local wildlife that potentially have rabies, ancient history, hot weather, whats not to like! :)

Have met so many wonderful people and have had so many fun, exciting and some a downright disturbing episodes :), but as my good ol dad says 'Every experience is part of life's rich tapestry' and do you know what his is so right. We should all sew into and enrich each of our own tapestries as much as possible and make life as interesting for ourselves and our loved ones as much as we can. I think I may personally need a new needle.

Belgrade is such a great place and I will be sad to go, have seen such alot in my short time here, will definately want to come back again though.

Well, my itinerary is standing up well, and my travel times are pretty much going according to plan. Had an 8 hour bus ride from Tirane to Skopje, met some very colourful characters. I took the overnight train from Skopje to Belgrade, took 11 and a half hours in the end, so many security checks, some unusual but memorable experiences whilst on that train ride.

My train from Belgrade leaves at 10.35am (Serbian time) and they say it looks like its going to take 10 hours give or take. Water has been bought, and I'm looking forward to a good book and hopefully some good and interesting company. I'm really looking forward to arriving in Sarajevo, have heard so many positive things about it from the people I've met along the way, and they've all been kind enough to tell me about interesting and cool things to do, including one little known trip where you can visit a secret tunnel that was used in the war and which still comes up through this little old lady's basement in her house, she just potters around as if your not there and has seen it all before :).

I'm also looking forward to seeing firsthand the Illuminated Haggadah Manuscript which has been reputedly been valued at 700 million dollars, I've never seen anything worth that amount, let alone a book, so will be very cool, it's housed in the National Museum of Bosnia and Hercegovina located in Sarajevo.

Then it's on do some kayaking in Croatia, but thats for later.

Well, its really late now, so will update again and will try to get some pictures online soon.

Take good care of yourselves

Ashley (Belgrade, Manga Hostel 27.05.09)

February 2009

Putting the finishing touchs and fleshing out my travel itinerary for my forthcoming new backpacking adventure on May 23rd. Im flying from Gatwick into Albania (Tirana), then from then on will be travelling overland by train, road and any other means through Macedonia (Skopje), Serbia (Belgrade), Bosnia and Hercegovina (Sarajevo), Croatia (Zagreb), Slovenia (Ljubljana) and then onto Austria (Vienna), a beautiful city which holds a special place in my heart, you could say has captured it really. I then fly out of Vienna to Heathrow. Im really looking forward to this trip, will be a good one, my camera will be with me and hopefully the locations and situations I will get into will provide some interesting and captivating shots.

The next backpacking trip after this will be my far eastern adventure, 'The road to Moscow', and then  its the big one, but thats another story...