Counting Sheep

 I chose to go the long route home so I could visit the Guggenheim in Bilbao. I set off on the 21:30 bus from Lagos to Braga and then onwards to Bilbao. This meant an overnighter. I booked into a sleeping pod in Bilbao for the next night. All the plans stacked up to this point. Having got to Bilbao, I realised the ferry terminal was some way from the city and I would not have time between the opening time of the museum and my catching the ferry. 

My farewell drink before the ferry

After a quick wander around the locale of the sleeping pod, I set off for the port. I like Bilbao from first impressions: it has a quiet culture and wonderful architecture. The public transport infrastructure is superb too. I can't say that I wasn't disappointed on missing out on a museum trip but I did have a thirty-two hour crossing to Portsmouth to look forward to. I booked a reclining seat as my sleeping arrangement on the boat and as the other passengers who chose the same option were all bikers, I ended up hearing their tales of burning up the roads on the Iberian Peninsular. 

I look back and still feel I made a good choice choosing a reclining seat despite sliding down it and finding no settled comfortable position. The company I shared the reserved seating with was entertaining and I felt their joy through their shared motorbike stories. The seats were horrible and totally unsuitable for sleeping in so my night of wakefulness added to my tiredness. Having said this, I met another passenger who had a berth. She said it was impossible to sleep as  the noise from the engines and the rocking of the boat disturbed her too much. Maybe my choice of a chair wasn't as bad as I first thought. However, this was my second of three nights that I had no bed to sleep in. I was beginning to feel permanently tired. 

On disembarkation, the passengers on foot are left to last. I sat in the lounge and knew the throaty roar was the farewell from the big bikes as they left from the decks below - all of them lovely men, and passionate about their bikes. 

I arrived home to CMK from Euston at 3am and went straight to bed. That was the third of four nights that I hadn't slept at the right time. I now realise how much I love my own bed! The following day I set off for my usual swim. It really exhausted me!!! I am almost back on an even keel now and I still love my bed!

On Saturday, I popped down to Kent for an MRI on my left foot. The satnav said it would take two hours and seventeen minutes. It actually took well over four hours. On the M1 I competed with the Wembley traffic and then on the M2 I sat motionless along with the Dover traffic. Doing nothing exhausted me. I started counting abandoned cars - not sheep! The outside temperature rose to 30c which must have been a little too much for some cars. There was a significant number on the hard shoulder awaiting rescue. 

I'm back home and into a routine so life is normal and humdrum for me once more. I have finished my course and I am looking for volunteers to coach so that I can practice what I learnt. Any takers?

Oddballs

What we do when we are not in a classroom

 

After a swim in Lagos

I have spent this last week in Lagos without the benefit of roaming. My TESCO sim card has not fulifilled its duty. The only time I can log onto the internet is when I am on my training course and at my hotel. Argh... When group messages are posted, the only way I find out where to meet or what everyone is doing is if someone tells me! As you can can imagine this is most frustrating. 

I have tried all the usual things to try to get it to work... taking the advice of the IT Crowd! I even swapped my sim to the position two in the slot. This seemed to work and I had access to my local network here in Portugal. Woohoo. I thought this would be the end of my troubles, but no. My phone now says my home is seven hours ahead... Singapore time and then when I tried to access my phone I was locked out and it said I was in Turkey. Writing this, I now realise that my other sim is the Turkish one but that has no data on it. Weird or what?

I managed to meet up with another person on the course for a sea swim one morning. He had swam the channel  - Wow... That is the nearest I'll ever get to swimming the channel. The water was a bit warmer than Cornwall in February and if I had bothered to pack a hat, I would have been up for a much longer swim. As it was, it was a bit cold when I put my head in the water it felt a bit like being gripped by a vice. 

Other than that, life has been been pretty cool. I have learned loads, met wonderful people from all over the world and done a bit of cultural research, AKA finding out about the local nightlife. I also met a Canadian couple who are travelling around the world with two tiny dogs on a yacht. They were on the next table to me in the bar on the marina. Lots of "locals" are Brits of a certain age in search of sun all year round so there is an English translation for almost everything. Home from home some might say.

My apartment/ resort is quite nice but housekeeping and organisation is all over the place. There are two of us sharing and only one breakfast between us! The towels are now replaced whether we need them or not even though I opted for the every other day clean up in return for vouchers... This seems to be a case of left hand not knowing what right hand is doing. Other than that, the coffee is good and that is what matters!

And it is now to home that my journey starts today...See you soon.

Wafted in from Paradise

Not quite paradise - just Luton Airport and no Campari!. Most Brits over 50 will remember the Lorraine Chase ad. Today I am Lagos in southern Portugal still without Campari. It was a relatively painless trip through a very quiet airport to Lisbon - a long queue to get my dabs on the EU system followed by a couple of days doing the sightseeing trek round Lisbon and then onwards to the warmth of southern Europe - or not. It is actually not very warm at the mo and perhaps my wardrobe is not quite appropiate for wind, and dare I say it? RAIN!

Lisbon after the rain

I commend Portugal on its public transport infrastructure. I used it to the full - cheap and efficient. I am not so pleased with the Tesco mobile promise of being able to use my phone for free in 26 countries. I can't get a signal in Portugal. errrr. This has impacted mt plans. I had my dinner down by the Tagus on my first night and then planned to go to the Time Out Market for breakfast the following morning. My hotel in the Bairro Alto was really central for getting to these places on foot despite it being a hard climb to get back to my base. Unfortunately the market didn't get going  early enough for breakfast so I went off to the Monastery Jeronimus to visit De Gama's tomb. He was the man who cut into the profits of the Silk Route. What he did was fifteenth century entrepenuership with a big human price. No internet so no advance ticket bookings for me - twenty-first century frustration -  and as I wasn't about to sit around for three hours waiting for a spot to go inside, I looked around the outside and then went to the Moorish quarter and onward to Castelo de sao Jorg - lovely views, really old olive trees all in a veritable fortress first built in 1147 - originally constructed to fend off the Muslims!

Castelo de sao Jorge

Dinner that evening did not go smoothly and that wasn't anything to do with a lack of internet. I went to a restaurant near my hotel, Lots of people were there already so it looked busy which equals "good" in my experience. The waiter took my order and dropped his Samsung tablet on my leg. It left a dent. He brought the olives and wine from my order but not my main course. I sat and read my book and waited... and waited. In the end I called another waiter over. I told him I was waiting for my sardines on toast (Portuguese style- not the British way).

He told me the other waiter was so embarrassed he had hurt me, he forgot to put the order in. I was invited inside the restaurant as by this time it was getting nippy. I was given another glass of wine gratis, had lots of apologies bla-de-dah. I told the waiter that this was not a good place as  - first I got attacked, then starved and got cold waiting so as compensation this waiter was trying to get me drunk... All was good. The sardines were especially worth waiting for and now I can laugh about my extended evening at Leve Leve.

I have since explored Lagos - very small with quaint bits annd a fort - very crowded with people from all over the world. I stepped off the bus and the first accent I heard was strong Mancunian. Obviously lots of Brits escape the British weather only to be soaked out here in slightly warmer rain. 

My studio under the arrow

I am sharing a studio at Dom Pedro. I am cut off from world happenings and world news  - limited internet - and therefore relaxing. My place overlooks the sea and it is quite nicely laid out - a good choice for location and comfort. The organisation of the resort, however, leaves much to be desired. There are two of us sharing but only one breakfast included. Crazy!

Retirement

 

The first rose in my garden

Being retired means I can lie in as long as I want to, then do nothing all day apart from visit garden centres. For my holidays, the world is my oyster. I could get a cruise to almost any destination in the world. I am doing something wrong. I rarely get to visit a garden centre, nor have I organised a cruise after my experience last year. Daily, I am rushed off my feet. Alice Cooper said, "The word does not exist in my vocabulary." Well it does in mine and one day it will come to pass that garden centres are high on my to-do list and then I know I will be truly retired. 

This week I have been chasing my tail sorting out "stuff" for the community orchard and organising myself for my trip to Portugal. With only 24 hours in a day, it will be a close run thing whether I am sorted before I leave for my flight. My bag is out and half packed, I am making lists because that makes me look organised. I just need to make sure I don't leave my passport behind. At least I know it is still valid! 

In addition to all the other stuff, I have played two tennis matches this week. Both have lasted over 3 hours for four sets. I have cycled a bit and swum over 400 lengths too. I suppose these are self-inflicted strains on my life and my left foot -  but they do bring me joy. I sometimes wonder how I ever found time to work as well. Scary! 

I also heard on the news this week that fewer people have a healthy retirement, especially as the age of retirement is edging up to 70 not far away from now. Apparently the UK is amongst the most unhealthy of developed nations where poorer people start to get ill at the age of 51 while more affluent people become sick after the age of 70. This discrepancy is a real stain on the way the government has used its resources and organised the country. I am sure this is a really big step backwards to the post war years when overall life expectancy was much lower. Perhaps this is a wake up call for younger people to take greater responsibility for their health and lifestyle. 

Sadly future generations will not have the luxury of choice that us Baby Boomers have had. They will have to work longer and apparently because of changes in employer contributions, they will have less money to live on too. Mind you, I never really thought about what "retirement" would feel like when I was working. I just new that when the time came I would stop earning money. I grew up without central heating,  walked or cycled to school every day, did a Saturday job, the TV was a black and white one that only worked for a few hours a day and people died of diseases that can be cured now. Despite this, I am one of the "haves" in this world and I won't forget that even when I moan about things that annoy me. 

The delivery of boxes from B&Q. 30kg each

I shouldn't complain about my lot but looking at these boxes, I have to plan a military operation to sort this out. I just have to co-ordinate the delivery of some bloody great boxes that contain the base for a flatpack cargo container to the orchard by asking for help from the fellow volunteers and then round up some extra manpower to move the free gravel in wheelbarrows to the orchard on Tuesday, Easy!! 

However, this is not what retirement is!

Blossom!

With the temperature at 19c and the sun shining, it was the perfect day on Saturday to hold our Annual Blossom Day Celebration at Wolverton Community Orchard. It was a day of music, refreshments, children's activities, laughter and plant sales. No matter how much or little planning goes into this event, it really is the people who turn up as visitors who make it worthwhile. Due to previous thefts and vandalism, I now look after the gazebos in my wardrobe so they are not left in a shed at the orchard. My planning started with getting the car loaded with all the stuff I needed to take to the orchard. Besides two enormous gazebos, I had homemade cakes, the children's activity box and a lion. 

The lion was Danielle's idea. We had a "guess the name of the lion" competition. What else would a lion in an orchard be called but Parsley. For those of a particular age, we remember Dill the Dog and friends who once entertained very young children on BBC. The lion was donated by a very kind person on FB marketplace - there are lovely people all over... I gave the lion a quick spruce up and left him in the garden to air. He had the look of one who was very contented to be sitting soaking up the sun. 

Once at the orchard I fought with the frame of the gazebos as I tried to remember the best order to put it together. Oh boy... the gazebos won hands down. I now know why I never got a job in the construction industry. By the time the event started, the two tents looks fairly stable. Then at the end of the event, I had a similar fight to get them back in the bags and then into the car once more. errrr.

That was on the Saturday. On Sunday Naser and I went to a mini-book-fest in Aylesbury. I met lots of lovely self-publishing authors who have tales to tell of struggling with publishing. Their stories aren't that dissimilar to mine. I took a picnic so we could sit on the grass and have our lunch. With the weather still being sunny, that wasn't a bad shout. 

As for the rest of the week, I would prefer to forget the tribulations I endured. I expected a man to come and inspect a fault in my window frame on Monday. The appointment was for Wednesday - my fault! Then I missed a zoom on Monday lunch time as I waited around for a workman who wasn't meant to turn up. This set the scene for every other thing I planned for the week. At least I got to the end of the week in one piece and I'm still standing. My bad memories of recent trials will fade and all I'll really remember is the orchard filled with blossom and lovely people. Not a bad week after all.

Badger Poo

Linford Lakes

I got very excited seeing Badger poo this week. There are thought to be well over half a million badgers in the UK and because they are shy creatures, I have only ever seen them as road kill and because this was fairly fresh poo, the badger couldn't have been far away. Woohoo. I think it is the Wind in the Willows characterisation of Badger than made me fall in love with them a long time ago. 

I saw this very special poo when I went on an escorted wander around Linford Lakes where the area is off limits to the public. This was the highlight of my week. Loads of other interesting things were identified for us along the walk: a badger sett, a fox hole, birds, plants and other animal poo. I have been watching David Attenborough's Secret Garden on Iplayer so I have been imagining what might be happening in my little courtyard garden when I am not looking. I know that something or some things are eating the leaves. But who or what? I am tempted to get a night camera just to find out. 

Slightly less exciting, but nonetheless fun, was a surprise visit from my son, Sammi. He turned up one morning around 9am and as I didn't immediately get to the door, he thought I was out and was on his way out of the gate by the time I showed myself. He has been between jobs over Easter so has taken the opportunity to get on his bike; first around Brittany and then locally. He cycled up from Brighton and then when he left me, he set off for Cambridge where he was going to get a train back to his home. He travels light with a couple of neat paniers. I am quite envious of him. 

Sammi cutting up Sophie's tree

The twig breaker in action

Being a kind uncle, he took Ezra-Mae to school on her bike. On the day he left, I picked her up and promised to cycle her home to Mum and Mattaya. She has no gears so her legs have to work very hard. She did the trip no problem and then cycled back from Stacey Bushes to her home with her Mum - All on the same day. She is shaping up to be a super-cyclist...If a five-year-old can do that, I am sure most other children could to, and through exercising to get to school, I'm sure they'd be more focused in class. Just a thought.

As for Sammi, he managed to eat large quantities of Kofta at Naser's house -his favourite - and even had time to chop down a couple of trees for Sophie before setting off. As for me, I still potter around on my bike even though I have got caught in sharp showers once too many times this cruel month. Apologies for the misuse of the quote. I know that T.S.Eliot didn't think April was cruel for soaking cyclists.  

My Left Foot

Spring in my garden

At this point I will say "thank you" Mr Netanyahu. I mean this most sincerely. Because of all the havoc and killing you have wrought on lovely, ordinary people in the Middle East and because you have caused the petrol prices to soar to unbelievable heights here in the UK, I made it to Kent via the M25 in almost record time on Saturday. 

I had to go to Kent for an appointment to find out when I am going to have an operation on My left heel. By the time this has been done, I will have two matching scars. I had an operation last year on my right heel and that went so well, I am almost looking forward to this one even though it will mean three weeks of standing on one leg only and then another five weeks in plaster followed by wearing a boot - just like Mr Magnolia. It will all be worth it to be able to run around again without pain. 

To have this op, I needed to go to Kent where the wonderful Benenden Hospital is. At worst it takes four hours in heavy traffic. On Saturday it took less than three. I filled my tank up in Bletchley, noted the cost per litre, gasped audibly and set off. All the way down I noted the price at other filling stations. Diesel in many places was just under £2 a litre while E10 was anything up to £1.70. When I got home from Singapore in 2020, I was paying about £1.08 a litre. There are fewer cars on the road! Mr. Netanyahu and Mr Trump are doing all they can to make us Britons turn to green energy. Who would have thought they inadvertently are saving the world. 

My mind wanders when I drive. My real joy comes from noting the strange place names perhaps because I was brought up in Leighton Buzzard -  a town whose name is often used in derisory comedy sketches. I imagine characters in a novel with the same names as places en route. There is a village in Kent called Smarden with a neighbouring one called Pluckley. What great names for hapless spies. Before long, a story had formed where this intrepid duo had ended up in a truly tricky situation at the mercy of a South American cartel in the depths of the Columbian rainforest. Maybe someone could help me find a way for them to escape...

I popped in to see my friend, Jane, who lives very close to the hospital in Kent. So much to catch up on and so little time. Writing this, means that friends keep up with my doings and goings on and it surprises me how often my blog pops into conversations. 

However, I will put the record straight that I DO NOT thank either Netanyahu or Trump for their bullying and wanton destruction of people's lives - it was my irony. The amount of military hardware and bombs deployed by Israel must have been stocked up in preparation for two years of destruction in Gaza, followed by their foray into Iran and now their repulsive, sickening intervention in Lebanon. For sure, there are millions  already storing hatred for all the Israel has done to them, their families and their country.