The Big Getaway

Well, here I am fresh back from the family holiday and with a whole new saga to relate. Instead of the annual voyage in a cattle truck (or coach, as the operators like to call them) this year was my first time flying in a big metal bird. More of this experience later. But first we will relate the experience of the overnight airport hotel stop.

Manchester Airport is roughly 110 miles from my home across the other side of the Pennines and linked by a motorway from South Cave. the motorway leg of the journey at a comfortable cruising speed of 60mph takes about an hour and a half to two hours at most depending on traffic conditions. The first 30 miles from my home to South Cave involves travelling across the South Holderness district, where the council have put a carpet 30 mph limit, and across Hull, then onto the A63, which is renown for being closed whenever I want to use it. This is because although it is the main route in and out of Hull, and should have been a motorway link, it is in fact a dual carriageway with no hard shoulder, so everytime a piece of grit falls off a lorry the Traffic Wombles (as beloved of Jeremy Clarkson and otherwise known as the Highways Agency Traffic Officers) close the road to recover it, usually at rush hour.

This, coupled with the airline industries insistence that you must check in for a flight three hours before the plane is built meant that with a boarding time of 0930 there was just too much risk in being delayed. Asides from this my father in law, who has more airmiles than Richard Branson, had made the arrangements which meant that we got free car parking for the duration of the holiday if we stayed for one night in a Manchester Hotel. Hence it was a no brainer really, and we duly set off the day before we were due to fly, stopping off at Legoland Discovery Centre to spend the day there before checking in to the hotel.

As an aside, LDC (Legoland Discovery Centre) was a big disappointment as we had already been to proper Legoland at Windsor, which was fantastic, at least to the 4 and 7 year old kids we had then. Unfortunately they have grown up a little and at 8 and 11 are not so easily impressed. Legoland proper had far more rides and attractions, with full sets of Lego to play with. LDC was a bit like when I was a kid and visited my Grans, where my elder cousins had left their "spare" lego, and the Duplo blocks they had grown out of. In theory it was possible to build the movie set from Star Trek, but it didn't look as good as it ought to without the wheels, sloped bits, windows, little men and trees and stuff. LDC left me with the same deflated feeling. It was Lego, Jim, but not as we know it.

Following the disappointment of LDC we followed the well signposted route to Manchester Airport terminal 3 and straight to our Hotel. This was far better than the signposted route to Gatwick I followed a few years back when i was directed via a Taxis only lane then straight into a Car Park I didn't want to stop in, but had to pay £3 to get out of.

Our overnight stop was at Bewleys hotel, which is walking distance from the terminal, but which provides a courtesy bus for fat and lazy people. Although not all that fat, I figured as I was on Holiday I would join the lazy people, so I used the courtesy bus too. I had been warned that my car would be driven by a spotty 17 year old who would trash it across Manchester to park it on some rough industrial estate somewhere for a fortnight, but in the event it was secured in the hotel car park for the night and remained there - I know this because I kept the keys, marked the tyres and set the on board security video. If any dodgy hotel employee tried to use it as a minicab whilst I was away I'd known about it. I'd point out that Bewleys Hotel has a fine reputation and doesn't allegedly do that sort of thing, but I've heard stories and wasn't taking any chances.

With the Hotel being so close to the terminal I thought I'd be kept awake by aircraft coming and going. Not so. I could barely hear them for the trains running past. Bewleys Hotel comes highly recommended for insomniac trainspotters. Particularly those who suffer from the cold. It was hot. Very hot. At one point I swear I saw steam coming from the radiator, and the wallpaper stripping off. The room was allegedly air conditioned, but a mouse farting would have created more of a breeze than the flow of air coming from the air-con.

No matter, at least I didn't oversleep and miss the flight. Awake at 0545 we were too early for a hotel breakfast, so had coffee and a supermarket croissant before being bussed across to the terminal. Read about my thoughts on airports tomorrow.

OAP (Old Age Phone)

I’m feeling my age now.

I took Thomas to Cinema yesterday to see CARS2 and being the good citizen that I am, I switched off my mobile phone as I entered the Cinema Auditorium. Well, switched off is too strong a word, as I have never known quite how to do that. I read a little bit of the manual once, but as it is bigger than the phone I got bored. Apparently you should press and hold the red button, but after several seconds of nothing happening what I usually do, and what I did yesterday is remove the back, remove the battery and the replace it, the result being the phone is now off. Switching it back on is easy enough using the red button, and at least you can see and hear something happening, as the screen lights up and the annoying Nokia tune plays.

However, at some point between entering the cinema, probably in the dark corridor, and arriving at the North Yorkshire moors today I have lost the back off the phone.

This in itself is an annoyance, rather than a major problem. The phone is old, and parts are therefore cheaply available on Ebay. Some might ask why I don’t get a new phone with a camera, GPS SatNav, Ipod etc built in, but the answer is that I already have a very good camera, GPS SatNav and Ipod as separates, all of which work better independently than when you try and bundle them into a phone. And in any case, I bought this phone because it fits my car. Strange I know, but true – my car had a hands free kit fitted when I bought it, so I bought the phone to fit it. Simples!

What I discovered however when I tried to buy parts on ebay is that my phone is now described as “the Classic Nokia 2610” with references to “iconic simplicity.” This means I have inadvertently achieved cool status by my tightwad attitude to technology. My phone now sits in the same camp as Red telephone boxes, VW Beetles, the Sears Building, old school radiators, James Dean, the Kenwood Chef, Big Ben, Tower Bridge and Roast Beef with Yorkshire Pudding. And that’s a good thing.

But owning a classic phone does make me feel old. Should I now cherish it and only use it on Sundays? Do I get cheaper insurance on it? Do I have to limit the calls I make, like limiting the miles on a Classic Car?

Another thing I discovered whilst searching for old phone parts is that you can now buy proper old fashioned telephones, with bells and big Bakelite handsets and a dial on the front which have been reconfigured to plug straight into the modern BT fibre optic sockets and they will work! I want one for my office, and I want it now. In fact, I want two, a grey one for ordinary calls, and a red one for the urgent calls.

Apology

I feel I should apolgise to my regular readers. that last post ws not even remotley funny.
I'm afraid I became all grown up for a moment whilst talking about gardening.

It won't happen again.

Harvest time

Something I've probably not covered too well in my blog is my new found interest in gardening. I suppose it's an age thing, but now that I've hit the big 40 I'm getting all green fingered.
I've had a fair sized garden for the last 13 years or so, but whilst I've mown the lawns and kept the trees pruned back, I've been strictly hard landscaping, building walls, sheds, concreting paths etc, whilst 'er indoors does the pink and fluffy flowers and a few tomatoe plants.
This year however, I set aside the southern plot as an alllotment garden area, and expanded into the bank where I removed the troublesome trees a couple of years or so back.
In the greenhouse, a simple 8 x 4 affair I have grown tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers, to a fair degree of success, and also started out the seedlings hat were later transplanted elsewhere on the plot. I've had a succesful crop of broad beans, runner beans and potatoes, plus onions and carrots, with leeks coming along nicely for the winter months. Radishes have been a mixed success, with some bolting straight to seed, whilst others gave fair sized results - not sure what I'm doing wrong there but it's beginners luck everywhere else. I have marrows the size of WW2 bombs, with Pumpkins also showing good early promise.
Frankly I am astounded I have done so well with almost everyting I planted, and a good number of things I didn't - a good half dozen self seeded tomato plants are growing outdoors and bearing more fruit and of a better size than the cossetted indoor plants. I also have a self seeded sunflower coming along rather well.
This has meant that I've had to do something with all natures bounty, and having never eaten or grown marrow before I was at a loss as to what to do with it. How does one cook it? As ever the interweb came up with the answer, and I now have some very tasty Marrow and Ginger Marmalade to spread on my toast in the morning (although it will mature over the next few months to taste even better later) and some tangy Marrow, apple, tomatoe and onion chutney which will go well on salads and spread on my burgers as a relish later in the year.
I must say the experience has left me thinking - I'm not quite ready to do the full "Good Life" thing quite yet, but home grown organic fruit and vegetables has to be the way forward. It is great to be able to nip outside and pull up a few carrots, fresh as and when you need them , instead of walking 1/2 a mile each way to the Coop for some very orange, but tasteless mass produced carrots from their shelves. Mine might not be so orange, but my god they don't half taste of carrot! Plus you get the greenery off the top, which can be eaten too, and makes a great garnish on top of soup instead of, or as well as parsley.
Yesterday I had the chance to visit a Victorian Kitchen Garden which provided much food for thought. The old timers knew a lot more about working the land than I could ever hope to learn, but I'll certainly try. Apart from the better quality food I'm growing I'm also saving money on buying vegetables, and on trips to the supermarket using fuel and being suckered into buying extra stuff I don't need. Okay I still have to go for essentials, but not so often, as the garden larder is fully stocked right now.
If you have a garden and a few hours a week to spare, it has to make sense. Dig for Victory!