Happy Christmas and a Prosperous New Year!

...........you're an idiot.

I had a busy weekend, as usual. On Sunday I popped into the Market Square in Aylesbury for the Rememberance Day service. It was packed with people, old soldiers, young soldiers, cadets and people like me, just paying their respects. The two minutes of silence was preceded by the Last Post, it always gets to me. It was a grey day but for once I saw the beauty in it. I appreciated the history around me. How many men had stood within the Town Square, hearts full of hope as they marched to War.
I always get a little romaticised at this time of year. I watched a program on Keith Douglas, a WW2 poet. I wasn't familiar with his work but his life had all the hallmarks that mark him out as a great. Well bred, served on the frontline in Africa and at the Normandy landings and died young. It is a bonus that his poetry is superb. This was followed by a program on Wilfred Owen, a surefire way to focus my mind on the days to come and to feel that fake empathy with something that I know nothing about. It's almost as if Owen wrote his poems to me rather than the Generals and the Military minds that sent the young men to war, a salute to the morons of the future that glamorise a war that cost a generation and from which this Country never truly recovered. It is more likely that we are, as every generation has been, absolutely supportive of our soldiers, sailors and airmen and we hold them in high regard and it brings out the feelings of patriotism that we spend the other 364 days stifling.
It dawned on me that as a child, the marches were led by old men, the soldiers of the First World War. They have been replaced with the veterans of World War 2, with the soldiers of the Falklands now replacing them in the marching order. I know it is an age thing but it is depressing to see the current crop of young men as veterans with a whole generation of soldiers from the Great War now dead. They always looked so proud, chests full of medals, harking back to the time of biplanes, the tank was a new development, cavalry were still charging into battle on horseback, the Battleships were the pride of the Oceans and communication was done from spotters, runners, pigeons and telephone lines. The last of the old style wars and the first of the modern wars.

After the service I decided to take the Girls to Woburn Safari Park and test my lens.

We got there and of course, it being a Safari Park, you drive. This wasn't so great for mister moron and his whacking great lens, sitting in a running, vibrating car, trying to take a photo, hand held, of a moving animal. I have some beautifully screwed up pictures of Zebras, Giraffes Lions and Tigers. I had an eye on the animals and another eye of the flashing fuel guage. Mister Idiot was running on empty and working out what to do when he ran out of fuel in either the Lion, Tiger or Wolf enclosure. I totally missed the Monkey enclosure as the thought of sitting there, out of fuel while the little buggers tear my car apart around my ears, was one thought too far. Note to self, next time don't be such a smart arse, you may think you have enough fuel but you're an idiot.

The weather deteriorated to the point of rain and drizzle so we parked up and I managed a nice shot of a Squirrel Monkey and a Lynx and ballsed up some shots of penguins. I would have to say that it was a very expensive experiment gone wrong which is stupid considering the animals are caged, how wrong would it go?
Just up the road in Woburn Sands is a fish and chip shop (Deep Blue), which has gluten free fish 'n' chips on Sundays and Mondays. So after I filled the car with diesel, I phoned them and booked some fish and chips all round. The idea was to pick up, pay and go home. I told my darling daughters to stay in the car, left the radio and heating on and popped into the fish shop, paid, collected food and turned to leave and....both my darling daughters were standing there waiting for me.....Guess what the first thing they said to me was.......

"Daddy, do you have your carkeys?" I went cold. I will shorten the story as it involved lots of shouting and at one point I was bouncing a knife sharpener off the side window of the car (it was all the chip shop had that they could lend me), trying to break it. I could hear the radio and the heater in the car and see the keys dangling tantalisingly close in the ignition. Eventually I asked the chip shop if I could borrow their phone as mine was locked in the car and called my insurance company, who called Green Flag and within 20 minutes a big van with lots of flashing lights and a very amiable mechanic turned up, opened the car in 10 minutes with no damage and I was on my way. I don't think that my daughters will be making that mistake again....neither will I.

Life is seldom boring. I could say that everyday brings a new challenge but I hate that, it implies that a challenge is a good thing rather than something to be avoided at all costs. Maybe that's where I differ from the the likes of Owen and Douglas, they embraced the challenge and pursued their way, challenging and changing the face of modern poetry. I am an armchair warrior, understanding their War through their words, books and television, all without their experiences and all I can say to that, is thank God.

.....a huge penile extension......

My birthday has just passed and my original intention had been to ask for Photoshop as my present but as per my last post, my MDM turned that on its head and I decided I wanted a 400mm Sigma lens instead. Knowing the cost I suggested that my wonderful family get it as a present for me next year so we can save for it rather than buying it now and struggling, particularly as it was a last minute change of mind.
Did I mention how wonderful my family is? I came downstairs and there was a huge box, beautifully wrapped and my girls waiting for me to open it. Sure enough it was a huge penile extension of a lens, 2ft long fully extended, an embarrassingly huge, manly piece of kit with a carry handle/tripod mounting bracket attached. The quality is fantastic but more importantly, it is the lens to make every other snapper feel inadequate. It doesn't matter whether my shots are good or bad, the assumption is that I must be a serious snapper as I have a huge apendage attached to my camera. I would guess that it is the photographers equivalent to a blonde in a fast car midlife crisis moment.

I haven't taken any shots that I wish to share at this moment as I didn't realise the difference in skill set between landscape and wildlife. I didn't even consider that one moves pretty damned fast and the other is a waiting game. I have multiple shots of the rear end of birds (the feathered kind), some are even in focus and even more shots of empty sky. I have no idea how the wildlife photographers take some of those incredible shots but they have gone up tenfold in my estimation.
It is good to learn new skills and as Autumn draws to a close, I tend to feel slightly sad to see another year pass, particularly as it has been an exciting and busy year. The grey, drab weather doesn't help so to learn a new skill and a new way of seeing has certainly brightened this years end.

I am starting to reflect on what I have seen this year and I can tell you that this is a wonderful Country with so much hidden charm and beauty. I would recommend everyone to buy OS maps and plan days away, there is so much to see and do and so much to fall in love with. I remember as a child, my Dad would pack us into a car and we'd drive for miles. We would consider 100 miles to be nearly there and I have some great memories of things we saw and experienced as children, I learnt to understand that the journey there and back are also part of the day. I want my children to have their own memories but to have also experienced the length and bredth of the UK as I did.
I recommend that everyone get in a car, take the family but do get out there and see things. Buy a book on things to see and work through it check at a time. I am getting up at 4.30 most Sunday mornings and going somewhere. I have given myself 5 hours so I am home by 10.

There is always time to experience something new you just have to create it.

.....I could tell you about my Male Diva Moment....

Where to start?......I could rant about the local council, I could tell you about my brush with fame when the local paper published my "grumpy" letter, I could regale you with the story about the pack of "snappers" in the woods that had me cornered, or I could tell you about my Male Diva Moment regarding my photography.
I guess I have gone off track regarding my photography so let's go there today. I had a moment, I like to call it a creative crisis or a symptom of my artistic temperament but, I am ashamed to confess, it was a Male Diva Moment (MDM). I took a look through my photographs and decided they were all rubbish. That meant, of course, that I was also rubbish and had no right carrying a camera. It was all very puerile and involved stomping around and lots of exagerrated arm gestures, I stopped short of crying as that isn't very manly and I had to have some pretence of "butchness" to my moment, speaking in a deep voice, wearing a tight T-shirt although that felt a little "metrosexual" and I don't do that as it's a modern invention, mind you, I don't really do androgyny well, despite my androgynous moment.
It was, however, a pivotal moment as it made me stop stone dead and evaluate everything that I have done, why I had done it and what I can do to improve it. I realised that I had been lucky with the shots that I had got and that to move forward I had to have the eye and technical skill to capture the moment as I want it to be. Stupidly, I had been eyeing other peoples work and thinking that I needed Adobe Photoshop to get anything near that level of perfection but this moment distilled my whole thought process into a better, more critical and fulfilling place. I don't need Photoshop, I need to take better pictures, it was as simple as that.
I always shoot slow exposures, always with a tripod and make full use of filters. I hadn't been picky enough with the results out of the camera. I hadn't been picky enough about the composition of the shot itself and I didn't wait for the optimum moment, these were the key ingredients that I was missing, the details that make an average shot better and a better shot superb. I saw an immediate improvement in my work, the feel and the composition was getting there. I am now determined not to become boring and complacent and to continue to improve and more importantly, learn.

I went to North Wales yesterday. Precisely, I went to Cadair Idris, Mochras, Harlech Castle and the Elan Valley. Unlike the last washout, we had superb weather. It was cold but sunny and clear all day. Cadair Idris reflecting in the Tal Y Llyn Lake was a beautiful sight and I would normally say that I was lucky except that careful planning with a map, an eye on the weather on the web for a week before and leaving early, put me in the right place at the right time, nowt to do wi' luck.
Mochras, also known as Shell Island, is incredible. So few people and miles of gentle sandy beaches sloping to lapping waves. I wouldn't normally photograph something so boring but this was special and I hope the pictures capture even a fraction of that. I would recommend Mochras to anyone that likes peace with their beaches.
Harlech Castle was impressive, but my daughter was embarrassed by my singing of "Men of Harlech" even when I pointed out to her that it was apt as we were in the right place. She did explain that it wasn't the song that was the problem, it was my interpretation. A lovely Castle and well worthy of a visit.
The Elan Valley is impressive and the next time I go back I intend to spend more time on it. The light was fading so we had a quick drive round before heading home.

My MDM may have been a bit girly and possibly a little pretentious but it has brought me down to earth and ultimately shown me how to work for the shot, it doesn't come naturally to me and luck is no match for judgement, technical ease and a trained eye. A trip to London a week or so back and the trip yesterday have shown me that I can take better pictures, all I need to do is become more consistent, keep questioning myself and keep my critics eye focussed on my own work rather than other people's, but that's a whole other lesson.......

....the new levels of their incompetence.

I have been struggling to get words down but I am, amazingly, stuck for
words.
I am still angry with the AVDC about the new development but words are
failing me at the new levels of their incompetence. Less than a year ago
they dug up a road to remove a central reservation, at a huge cost. They
are now planning to put it back in.......

They have built the new theatre that seats 1800 people, but not made
any provision for parking. So then they had a good idea, why not tear
down the multistorey opposite and have a single level of open plan
parking for 110 cars. Brilliant, tear down a large carpark to create  a
smaller carpark. They are calling this phase one. It's a shame phase one
and any other subsequent phases weren't considered before the grey
granite monstrosity opposite was built.

The main issue that I have, excepting their project management style
of steam rollering public opinion, frivolous waste of massive  public
funds and gross ignorance of the needs of the area, is that we are being
asked, on a National level, to pull together and reduce the National debt.
On one hand we're urged to caution and tightening of belts for cuts that
are going to hurt all, on the other hand we see our local council jollying
along, wasting millions of pounds of our money on things that won't
benefit the local economy, the majority of families or youngsters that
have nothing to do except wait until they are old enough to be served in
pubs.

It does raise a very obvious question: if a small, backward and narrow
minded provincial council like Aylesbury is doing this, are they alone?
I would be interested to know how many other councils are guilty of
equal and greater waste.

Some things just sicken me. 

...a looming grey hulk of doom, squatting near the town centre.

I am angry today, Aylesbury Vale District Councill, not content with constantly screwing up our road systems, creating half baked and now half empty shopping centres and their last venture was "Bourg" bridge, a faux suspension bridge with the central concrete pole built on the slant. When I say on the slant, it actually looks as if it's falling down or was made that way by accident, a bodge job. The Councill actually had the audacity to create an award for it so they could call it award winning. It couldn't win a legitimate, recognised award because it is a half baked horror.

This brings me neatly on to the reasons for my anger. They are currently building a new Theatre in Aylesbury. If you visit Aylesbury you can't miss it, a looming grey hulk of doom, squatting near the town centre. Pebble dashed with flint and wood, it looks like a 1970's reject. As with everyone, I stupidly held my tongue, then we saw that they had one of the London Orchestras visiting and the program was custom built for me. I enquired about tickets and pricing and I am sure you can guess the rest, despite the fact that we have paid for this new Theatre, the tickets are overpriced. For a family of 4, I can see the same Orchestra play a similar program at the Barbican in London, including tickets and train fare and still save a considerable amount of money left. High Wycombe and Milton Keynes Theatres are both cheaper. I let that ride and said nothing but then saw the rest of their plans.

The original plans had been to build cafes and small shops, creating a small community centre for the Canal front houses that have been there since forever. Those plans have changed and they are moving the Barges from the Canal basin after a 200 year association and building Aylesbury's 5th Superstore, a Travelodge and a massive car park.

Aylesbury has 2 beauty spots left, St Marys Square and the Canal. The AVDC are determined to ruin the Canal, that takes the best part of Aylesbury away. To build the Theatre, Travelodge and car parking they have already destroyed protected Black Poplar trees. The residents are up in arms because they will have a huge concrete flyover overshadowing their homes. I wouldn't buy a house under a flyover and to have it forced on them is just plain wrong. It devalues their homes and potentially way of life. I feel compelled and obliged to help them fight the the very real threat from this new "Mordor" as it will take away something very special.

The real shame of all this is that they are knocking down a huge old building that has been used for gigs, classical concerts and plays. This building is less than 40 years old and is just over the road from the new Theatre. It has parking and is accessible from the town centre. Why didn't the refurbish that? In a time of recession when the High street is dying a sad lonely death and shops that have been there since before I was born, have suffered from the AVDC's high rents, shops that are now either derelict or charity shops, the population at large is having a tough time financially, where do they get the money to spend on rubbish? If they had to spend this money, why not create something for everyone? How about a leisure centre with bowling, laser quest and ice skating? Would that not have made more sense?

No-one likes being ripped off and taken for fools. If you're on Facebook, please look up the Waterside Residents Group Aylesbury - Say no to Waitrose, Travelodge.

I don't live in that part of town but it is part of my morning run. It is peaceful and teeming with swans, grey herons, ducks and even a kingfisher further up the Canal. In the mornings I see the same male swan banging his beak on the sides of the barges asking for breakfast, it is idyllic and it is criminal that anyone "takes" the right to change it. Please support the residents and one of the last bastions of beauty in this town before it's too late.

....the fabled land of Cumbria!

So the last adventure of the Summer happened yesterday, a trip to the Mecca of photographers, the fabled land of Cumbria!
At 5.15am, I bundled both my daughters into the car and we were off. I was clever enough this time around to go to the library and borrow a couple of audio books. My soundtrack was "The Moving Toyshop" by Edmund Crisp, all 7 CD's worth.
I had been checking the weather over the last 2 weeks and the general consesus appeared to be changeable, rain, cloud and sun in Cumbria, sun at home. With this in mind, we all packed coats and prepared for another North Wales experience. The weather on the M6 seemed to bear out the forecast, however, once we neared Cumbria, the sun came out and the rich dappled shading on the Mountains near the motorway, was spectacular, taking all of our breaths away. The word "stunning" passed my lips for the first time of the day and certainly it was not the last.
I was organised for this trip and we had an itinary courtesey of that book of 1000 top places to see in the UK, plus some other places of interest. I have been to Cumbria a few times but never for the sake of the beauty of the place. My No.2 daughter wanted to go to Coniston Water where Donald Campbell, Speed King and National Hero, died in Bluebird. I wanted to go to Thirlmere, Castlerigg Stone Circle and Wast Water.
I had been in touch with an old friend who lives up there and although he wasn't available, he did say to avoid Windermere at all costs.
With his words ringing in my ears, I took a later junction off the M6, to avoid the main throughways and stupidly headed straight into Windermere. I have absolutely no idea why I did this and shortly after 9 we ground to a halt. After much stop starting and even more bad language on my part, we took an early turning to Coniston. The last time I was here was approximately 8 years ago and it was a sleepy little village. This time it was a bustling, thriving community of fat tourists with their fat cars that took up all the parking spaces. We couldn't get parked so I drive down to the foot of the Lake and watched as my girls taught themselves to skim stones, coached by a kindly old gentleman.
Our next stop was Thirlmere. I remember this Lake from that previous visit. It is in actual fact a reservoir. The Victorians flooded the valley to provide water for Manchester. It is beautiful and in places is very reminescent of Scandinavia. All 3 of us started towards the Lake when after 1/2 a mile we hit mud, deep, squelchy mud. No 1 daughter was not amused and went back to the car, No 2 and I continued. It was a difficult Lake to capture properly and given the short amount of time we were there, I made a start.
Next stop was Castlerigg Stone Circle. I was excited about this as the photos I have seen have been pretty incredible, an ancient stone circle surrounded by high peaks on all sides. The weather was so glorious this would be the photo to end all photos. This idea crashed and burned the moment we arrived there. It was absolutely heaving with people. There was no chance of that atmospheric and moody shot as there were families climbing all over the stones, fighting, arguing and generally being obnoxious..... I say obnoxious but only as they were ruining my picture. Everyone knows that wherever I am belongs to me and everyone else is a damned foreigner and tourist and is there just to strain my patience. However it is a magnificent place and a panoramic shot early or late in the day would be worth the trip alone but unfortunately not for me on that day.
The next stop was Wast Water. This was the highlight of the day for me. I wanted to see Scafell Pike, the highest peak in England and wasn't expecting too much but it was breath taking. A true blue sky with a few moody clouds creating drifting shades on the mountains, a clear lake and not too many people.
There was a path of stepping stones to a large rock formation in the actual lake. It would make a perfect staging post for my tripod....I was getting a feeling of deja vu but couldn't quite place my misgivings. I carefully picked my way across the slippery stepping stones and clambered up the rock formation, relieved to have nothing more than dirty finger nails. The view couldn't have been more perfect. It was windy so the lake was rippling rather than reflecting the powerful mountains that surrounded us. I took various shots, including a 3 bracketed series with the intention of using HDR's to create a panoramic shot. It was truly a case of wide angled isn't enough to capture this, it needed more mountains, more water and even that wasn't enough. It was a scene that you wanted to peel off, wrap it up and take it home to use as the back drop for your house. As I was stumbling back over the rocks, slipping and sliding, No 2 daughter warned me not to fall in like at Hebden Bridge. It all came rushing back and all of a sudden my footing was less sure, my balance less steady and the water started to look particularly cold. I put my safe arrival to shore down to the fact that I wasn't wearing a suit.

Time was getting on a little so I got the camping stove out and fried up some Chinese rice and added Cumbria hotpot to it. It was a foul mix, both dishes being lovely singly but not a good mix together. However, we were hungry and the hot food was more than welcome. I burnt the cooking pan so it was much like my cooking at home, a little charred in places. It was really time to go home so I picked a scenic route back along Hardknott Pass. This involved a single track lane over the mountains. It was surprisingly busy and amazingly steep. I had a couple of moments where I wandered how high the centre of balance on the car was and imagined the steering becoming a little too light as the front wheels were lifting. The drive was fun and the views were amazing, but as the road was single track, there were no places to park. After an hour I was becoming a little bored with concentrating and relished finishing this leg of the journey. The next leg that I hadn't bargained on, was Wrynose Pass, another mountain pass with sharp bends and no space. It did have a parking space a one point and I managed to snap a couple of shots of the view to ground, the mountains on all sides, a lake in the distance and lots of clouds and colour. Actually, I got the shot but it really didn't capture the moment. As I learn more the most important lesson that I have learnt is that not everything can be captured, there truly are moments to be savoured and remembered.
We eventually reached the M6 at around 7pm. A brief stop at Tebay Services as they have a fantastic Gluten Free range there (Sticky Toffee pudding, a Chocolate Indulgent pudding, biscuits, sausages etc). The journey home was uneventful, the audio book finished as I pulled into my road and as good as it had been, it ended up not making much sense, that could have been tiredness on my part but the ending spoiled an otherwise most enjoyable story. Still, who cares, it was a superb day, the weather had been glorious and the scenery breath taking, the icing on the cake was finding out that it had been torrential rain at home. I wished I'd taken more shots and wished that I'd seen more but there is always another day....roll on October for the return visit!

...everywhere I go is wonderful to me, except......

Ah, London, the Capital City to shame the many smaller and less intricate capital cities. There is a common theme to my last few photography posts and they all revolve around the classic British Summertime, yes it was rainy and grey in London.
There was actually only one shot that I wanted. On my last trip I took this shot using IR but I really wanted to take it as a standard photo. As with any picture, there are options. I could bracket the shot and make a dramatic HDR, use it as an exercise and come back when the weather was better or use my filters. I opted for the latter. The issue was the amount of wind as I was using some branches from a tree to frame the shot. The exposure was 2-3 seconds using several filters, including a sunset filter to give that red look and they all increase the exposure time. I ended up with a string of shots, all perfectly exposed but with too much movement in the branches. I did get the shot, not quite as I wanted but good enough.
As a note to any coeliacs or wheat and gluten free folk that visit London, go to Danny's Gourmet Wraps on Lamb's Conduit Street, they are Coeliac aware and have some delicious gluten free wraps. We have been there a few times and they take extreme care so the danger of cross contamination is absolutely minimal.

One of my photos was selected for the Schmap website to advertise the Brighton area:

http://www.schmap.com/brighton/activities_daytrips/p=369195/i=369195_25.jpg

I felt a teensy weensy bit guilty as it was someone else's photograph that inspired me to go to Battle Abbey and take this shot but I guess that inspiration comes from what we see about us, including other photographs.
I would recommend the Brighton area, there is so much around it to see and do. I like to drive and see as much as I can and everything is very close together in this area. There are a lot of castles and some very good beaches.
Mind you, everywhere I go is wonderful to me, except for the East Anglia region. I am sure it must have some wonderful things to see and do but it is so flat. I like rolling hills, the atmosphere that comes with an undulating landscape and the woods and streams that flow down the sides of hills. We had one visit to Suffolk, we went to Orford. It was a miserable day so the weather really didn't help but there was so little to inspire. I didn't get a single shot that I would be proud of. My photographic trips are now focused on the rest of the UK, leaving the East coast from East Anglia to just North of Skegness until I have exhausted all else or someone puts me straight. There must be something there that I will love, after all it was the birth the place to one of England's greatest hero's, our own God of War, Nelson. We tend to forget the true legacy of our history. People are not remembered correctly. Nelson was a Lion for this nation when we needed a legend, he most certainly saved us from any potential invasion from Napoleon, he was a loose canon and knew how to work the press for his own self promotion, possibly one of the first documented spin doctors, his self serving self promotion made him a National hero, a title that he more than fulfilled. I read up on Nelson, and more recently, Sir Francis Drake. Drake is remembered for the Spanish armada. That is in actual fact probably the least of his achievements. He opened up trading routes between England and China, kept the Spanish at bay, circumnavigated the Globe and had coloured crew members, not slaves, earning an equal share of the spoils of war. A great man and rightly remembered as a hero but possibly not for all the right reasons.
I have now gone totally off track so I may have to start waving a flag and listening to Churchill's speeches on my ipod to ensure that I get that full effect of National pride. All I need now is a flypast, a Spitfire, Hurricane and Lancaster would complete my day!

If anyone does know of anything in East Anglia that doesn't involve Windmills and Canals, that would give me a good day to take photographs, I am absolutely prepared to recant everything that I have said as I can't believe that such a large area can be so devoid of interest to me.

....one more stop at the Pistyll Rhaeadr Waterfall.

I made it!! I survived the busiest weekend of the year and I'm tired but unscathed. The weather ensured that the weekend was a physical washout but I still managed to get some nice shots and more than that, I had both my daughters with me.
I got up at 4.30 on Friday morning, headed up the M40, M42, M6, turned left on to the M54 at Stafford Services and I came thence to North Wales. The journey was the usual swapping of radio stations to keep me amused whilst my daughters slept. I had a plan for the journey and it went wrong very easily as I missed a junction of whatever "A" road I was on and the next thing I saw was a sign for Chester in 10 miles. Having woken my youngest to tell her off for not warning me, I apologised and asked for her map readng skills. After a few hours I realised that we were taking the longest route possible and was expecting to see signs for Stirling. My beloved daughter was taking us the incredibly scenic route, but without the scenic bit.
Eventually we found something to look at, the Conwy Falls. It was indeed a powerful double chute style fall. As we stood there in the pouring rain, getting wet from the spray, it dawned on me that this was going to be a very wet day and could very easily end in tears all round.

I was due to meet a friend and her children as they have a holiday cottage somewhere in North Wales and we agreed to meet mid afternoon. As it was now 12 and I wanted to see Snowdon, we didn't have much time. I drove and we saw various cloud formations masking anything taller than a metre. I took lot of pictures and I am sure that one of them must have part of Snowdon in it but I couldn't tell you which one. The driving rain and heavy mist/cloud should've dampened even the most hardy of spirits but for some reason Wales is more atmospheric and mystical because of it. It was certainly inspirational from a photography standpoint but all the more difficult to capture.
Our friends cottage is breathtaking. I had to abandon my car and she drove me to her cottage in her 4 wheel drive as there was no way on Gods green earth that my car would have made it. The track was little more than tire grooves in swamp. The cottage is tucked away on a hill. A busy stream cascades down the hill right next to the cottage, creating various waterfalls on its way. The cottage is picture book, white with a black slate roof. The surroundings were bleak but beautiful. This was real Wales, the stuff of legends, the hidden life that beats beneath the thin veneer of civilisation. Some places are closer to it than others. In the South we are the furthest removed and the most likely to see it, without even being able to name it.
Anyway, we went for a walk around the cottage and it didn't take long till my feet were soaked but it didn't matter, I was snapping away, trying to capture the mist, wildness and beauty. We jumped streams, squelched through bogs and generally had a lovely time getting wet and dirty, it made me feel 9 years old again.
The real reason for this trip had been a song my youngest sang for a music exam, it mentioned Cadair Idris and a little white cottage. We left the cottage at 4.30 and headed to Cadair Idris. Again, it was covered in mist but looked absolutely stunning. By this time, everyone was cold and hungry so we decided to leave it for another day and passed it by. Now I am a little like Columbo, it's always "Just one more thing" so I did make the executive decision that we should make one more stop at the Pistyll Rhaeadr Waterfall. The only reason for going there was because I had bought a book on a 1000 must-see places in the UK. The entry didn't have a picture so it couldn't be that impressive so it was a case of let's go see it just to check it off as we're passing.
All I can tell you is that if you go to Wales, it is an absolute must see. It is glorious, powerful and pretty. The fall is listed as 240 feet and it is amazing to see. There is a long drop to a bowl and the water flows out of that for the final drop. All three of us stood there with our mouths open, this is not what we expected. I am now thumbing through that book, working out what else I need to see and worse, what I missed.

The journey home was uneventful and we arrived home at 10.30pm.
Saturday I did get up and run 2 miles. It helped with the tiredness and stiffness from sleeping so heavily.

Sunday we got up at 5am and the 3 of us headed to Dorset as my daughters wanted to play in the Sea. I understand that the weather forecast hadn't been great but we decided to take a chance. As we had number 1 daughter with us again, we decided to show her some of the things we had seen and to visit Swanage. It all went a little pear shaped as the weather was attrocious once we neared the coast but Corfe Castle looked amazing in the grey mist and rain. We reached Swanage and it drizzled, then a little harder and then it poured down. My girls were frollicking in the sea, laughing and just enjoying it. Sensible people were under umbrellas and getting coffee. I was standing on the beach under my umbrella, watching my growing daughters morph into children, it was a wonderful moment.
From here we went to Blue Pool. As my girls are wheat and gluten free, it was a real revelation to find that Blue Pool has a gluten free menu. We had a very short wander round as the rain had stopped which made the colours particularly vibrant.

I used the satnav to get home and it listed the fastest route as 150 miles in 2 1/2 hours. It listed the shortest route at 100 miles in 3 1/2 hours. Now I know that 100 miles could be crawled in 3 1/2 hours, there is no way the satnav could be right and to save 1/3 of the journey, it had to be done. Once it started directing me up single track farm lanes and I was crawling along at 3mph, I understood. I did manage to make up some time and when my daughters stirred from their slumbers, I was 28 miles from home and totally reliant on the satnav as I didn't have a clue where I was. As the miles counted down, I was still clueless as to my location. It wasn't until I was 15 miles from home that I knew exactly where I was. I found that incredibly disconcerting, I know my local area pretty well but to find that I can be 15 miles from home and effectively lost, that is a most odd feeling. Anyway, we were home by 5pm and I can tell you that I am absolutely paying a price for this weekend. I hurt so much this morning that I didn't run. I feel like a wreck and I am so tired, infact it is very easy to describe how I feel, remember burning the candle at both ends as a teenager? Those late nights with far too much alcohol and no thoughts for the following days? I feel like the following days.
Nevermind, time to be brave, I have a London trip mid week and my last adventure of the Summer next weekend and it is the big one!

We were surrounded by "twitchers".......

Last weekend we went to the Forest of Dean. I decided on Thursday, and this time I was going to avoid Puzzlewood. The reason for this is because it had become the highlight of the trip, to the detriment of the Forest of Dean which was playing second fiddle to this wondrous slab of ancient forest.
So, at the ungodly hour of 4.30am on Sunday, I stirred my lazy behind from my bed, staggered through the shower and hit the road just after 5am with my youngest daughter in tow. She was asleep within a mile so it was just me and the radio for company. I found out that at Waddesdon I could pick up Jack FM, a brilliant Bristol radio station that plays music from all eras, one after the other. Depeche Mode rubbed shoulders with the Cult, Blondie and XTC. The banter between the songs bordered on offensive in places but with enough humour that I laughed like a drain. There were several stupid jokes:

There are 2 1/2 million obese people in this Country but that's just a round figure.

The library in Swindon burned down and they lost both their books, one of them hadn't even been coloured in!

Anyway, long story short, the journey there and back was plenty of fun for me. Our first stop was Tintern Abbey. I'd seen the pictures on line and it absolutely lived up to expectations, except that at 8am on a Sunday morning, nothing is open. Next stop was Symonds Yat Rock. This was impressive, perched high above the River Wye, watching it wind it's way through the gorge upon which I was standing. We were surrounded by "twitchers" and just when I started to become concerned, a nice lady told us a little about the birds they were watching. In the cliffs alongside us, are a pair of nesting Peregrins. In the tiny Islet in the Wye, somewhere below us, were a pair of Kingfishers. As the lady explained that the Peregrins will catch pigeons in flight, I started to worry about the Kingfishers, they had really picked a stupid place to nest. Peregrins are the fastest creatures on earth, reaching speeds of 100mph. The Kingfisher would become little more than a tuft of bright blue feathers in swift breeze.
From here we walked the half mile down hill to Symonds Yat East but as that was little more than a village with a wide variety of hotels, we walked back up the half mile hill that was now feeling like a cliff climb.
Back at the car I consulted my faithful OS map and decided that Fancy View looked like the place to see. It wasn't. It was certainly high up and is apparently a good place to view Sparrowhawks but the trees that stretched to the horizon weren't overly impressive as there was no concept of scale.
Next stop was back to Tintern. The morning visit there had been a visit to a sleepy village/town. The afternoon visit was to a busy, bustling and bric-a-brac centre of craft and history.
My first visit was to Stella Books. A Second-Hand Emporium of Literary wonders. I found a couple of wonderful books. One of Famous Composers, written in 1899 and another, more recent, 1982, on Virtuoso Musicians. As I opened it, it fell open on the page that mentioned about Fritz Kriesler seeing the 13 year old Heifetz play. It had several references to Leopold Auer. My wife learns with Edmund Reid. Edmund learned with Sascha Lassersson, Lassersson learned with Auer. Auer was also the teacher of Heifetz and as Lassersson was the older pupil, Heifetz held him in some regard. Edmund met him on several occassions and I hear some of the stories through my wife.
Our next visit was to Tintern Abbey. For those that know nothing about it, it was a thriving community of Monks. With the dissolution of the Church under Henry VIII, many monasteries, including this wonderful Abbey, were destroyed. It is hugely imposing, roof open to the skies and the massive front window, devoid of the wonderful glass that must have once shone with a myriad colours with every beam of light.
There is a breathtaking shot that has probably been taken by every photographer since they were called Daguerreotypes. It is to the side of the main hall, a series of pillars and arches stretching down to an eyeless window. It is atmospheric and you just have to take the picture, no matter that it has been taken millions of times before. As you line up the shot, waiting for the throngs of people to clear, watching the sunlight spilling through the windows, creating the light and shade effect. You take a final glance to make sure that the focus point is correct and....wait a minute, what the hell is that through the open window, the very focus point of your shot? A bloody chimney with an aerial on it? Of all the spoilers to have in a shot, this is possibly the worst, right up there with litter and power lines. The thought did cross my mind to edit it out, even my wife suggested that but it really seemed like cheating. If ever there was a challenge, this was it. How to take that shot, knowing that from every conceivable angle, the rooftop, chimney and aerial would be showing, there is no simple way to hide it. Well, infrared is the answer, it distracts from the real by fading them out and creating an unreality that actually worked far better than the actual shot I could have taken.
Tintern Abbey is huge and there is a real feeling of peace about it. It is truly a religious building and the feelings of faith and harmony have remained ingrained into the walls. I stood there lost in thought, the sunlight playing through the windows, a light breeze softening the summer heat, truely at one with the World. The rumble and roar of the motorbikes reverberating around the empty ruins with the screaming children and tinny toy music of the Ice Cream van thumbing it's nose at the long dead Monks, truely a place where truth meets reality.

Tintern Abbey should be on your hitlist. On my next visit, I will be visting both Tintern and Puzzlewood and my quest to find the Heritage Centre, somewhere in the Forest of Dean, will continue. I have planned 2 very different trips next weekend and it is threatening to be either a phenomenal weekend or a washout. I will, of course, keep you posted after the event.

.....I bought an OS map on the way down to Dorset and stupidly looked at it.

It occurred to me, whilst showering this morning, that my idea of a holiday, isn't the norm. I couldn't imagine spending 2 weeks in 1 place or contemplate more than 1 hour lazing on a beach. The reason this came to mind is that it's Summer and my day trips have just started.
Last weekend, I decided to spend investigating local features. It dawned on me that I'd never visited Stowe Country House and Gardens. I've lived around it for many many years but not even thought of visiting, so last Sunday was the day.
A day isn't long enough to view Stowe but it was enough to show me that it is worth seeing more of. I enjoyed it and it is certainly a place I would recommend but I was not enamoured or in awe of it in the same way that I am with, say, Hampton Court, Puzzlewood or Kenilworth Castle. My youngest daughter was my usual companion and she took lots of pictures, using my camera and often the shots I wanted to take. I am very sparing on the shots, I only take those that I can see, I usually go somewhere and take maybe 10 to 15 photos, sometimes 30 but never anymore than that. My daughter is trigger happy and I have a camera full of pictures and a flat battery. However, some of the pictures we both took are lovely so I am wondering if I misjudged Stowe and it is really glorious and maybe it was me and a funny mood, I'll let you know when I do a return visit.

Yesterday was Sunday and that was the start of my real day trips. I gave my youngest the choice of where to go. I wanted to go to Puzzlewood and see it in all it's Summer glory but she decided that we should go to Dorset and specifically Blue Pool, Lullworth Cove and Durdle Door. These are places we visited last year so I knew what to expect and that the wonderful Corfe Castle would be en route.
We meant to leave at 5a.m but both overslept so we didn't leave till after 6. This put us at Corfe Castle for 9.15. For those that have never been there, you must go. It is a ruined Castle on a hill, at the base is the village of Corfe Castle. The Castle is amazing to see (with an even more incredible and bloody history), so much so that I'm not even going to bother to try and describe it, take a look at my flickr page or look it up. The shot I wanted to take was from a railway bridge towards the Castle and capturing the steam locomotive that ferries people to Swanage via Corfe. Unfortunately I made my daughter climb a hill so I could take some pictures of the Castle from an equivalent height and she refused to walk any more. So it was onwards to Durdle Door on Dorset's jurassic coast. It is quite simple a huge natural stone arch in the Sea. It must be nearly 200 ft high and for some reason I find it impossible to photograph. I think I find the contrasts too difficult to deal with so I thought that HDR's may be a good way to capture them. The sun came out and my daughter kicked off her shoes and paddled in the water. The cliff behind Durdle Door, Swyre Head, is imposing and white. The sky was blue with white clouds and this huge chalk cliff, it was impossible to not to get a good picture, all the ingredients were there, laid out in a way that all you had to do was point and shoot.
I made a mistake, I bought an OS map on the way down to Dorset and stupidly looked at it. My eyes alighted on the words "Waterfall, Egmont Bight". "Wassat?" Thought I and texted my wife. She sent back an incredible picture of a huge waterfall spilling into the Sea over a cliff. That was it, that was where we were going next. After an hour we had travelled in various circles and little dirt tracks into nowhere and we came across and carpark near to where the falls are shown on the map. I was clever enough to ask the first trekkers if they knew of the falls and an old man told me that we had to go to Swyre Head (a different one to the Durdle Door one), hang a left, then a right onto a farm track and follow that. It was apparently quite a walk. Now I run in the mornings and this was an old man, how difficult could it be? I looked at the map and we marched along a path, down a steep slope and after 2 miles I realised we were in a farmer's fields and not on a footpath. The barbed wire fences gave me a clue.
The only choice was to walk 1/2 a mile and scale a sheer wall of mud, brambles and thistles and hang on to a barbed wire fence to stop from falling. This took an hour or so and was worse than running a half marathon. Once at the top I realised that we weren't even halfway there and the prospect of following the path down the cliff and walking the next 3 miles to the falls, followed by the walk back was too much, this would be a day trip in itself, so I never made it but it is on my hitlist.
From here we went to Blue Pool. A forest with a pool that is blue, it's all in the name, clever that. It is a beautiful place and I recommend it to anyone. It is peaceful, scenic and tucked away from the milling crowds. It is great to relax and get away from it all and is a superb place to take photographs. I didn't take very many this time as the weather was less than perfect and my time, as always, was limited.
My next quest was to find a sandy beach so that I can bring my eldest daughter on our next outing. The stipulations were, sandy beach and a Costa Coffee in the near vicinity for my wife. That counts out all the usual suspects that I would go to as we would need a town to fulfill that last point. I decided that we should look at Mudeford, it was on the map, near Christchurch and it could fulfill all the criteria......it didn't. The beach was part sand, mostly pebbles and packed with tourists. Without wishing to offend anyone, it was like an Essex outing, full of families, all squawking, shouting and screaming, barging and shoving, many obese and others Posh spice skinny. The beach wasn't what I expected and the funfair that was setup to fleece the tourists on the beach front, was something out of the 1970's.
That was the last straw, it was time for home. We arrived home at around 8pm and I was absolutely shattered but in the best kind of way. I had a great day, enjoyed all of it and whilst I may not want to do that run again this year, I will certainly do it next year.

My recommendations are Corfe Castle, Durdle Door for a quick visit if you're passing and Blue Pool for some peace.

....stupidity plays a major part.......

Ah, the dangers and expense of being a photographer are not the ones that you would always expect. Yesterday I found myself in the wilds of Hebden Bridge, "Where?" You may well ask. It is somewhere between Halifax and Leeds. I looked it up on the Internet before I went and saw a few pictures but nothing that did it any justice. What a beautiful place, old, quaint and stuck in the past. Nestled in the bossom of a valley, surrounded by trees with a canal and a river running through the centre. Rising above it are various chimneys from watermills and Victorian factories, a perfect picture of Industrial life from the 19th Century.
I was actually there visiting a customer so I was suited. For anyone that is interested it is a nice black pinstriped 3 piece suit, stupid on such a humid day but there is something about a 3 piece suit that makes you feel that bit more elegant (yep, totally superficial).
I arrived early so I had an hour to survey my surroundings. Hardcastle Crags is the woodland that surrounds the town and very pretty it is too. My research had suggested parking here and walking a short way to view the Lumb waterfalls. So after a successful appointment, I parked up and walked. My Internet browsing was as half baked as ever so I didn't actually know which way to walk so I meandered over to Gibson Mill and asked there. Turns out that Lumb falls was in a neighbouring valley, too far to walk but they did suggest the smaller falls 200 yards away and they both commented on the nice suit and to take care.
It was an idyllic fall, a small stream cutting through rocks and folliage with a 6ft drop and then many smaller drops as it washed away to the river. The small track towards the falls was treacherous and carefully picking my way up, the view wasn't great, trees and the angle obscuring what would be a stunning picture......however, and this is were stupidity plays a major part in my life, the view from the centre of the stream would be perfect and the green moss encased rocks that led a path to the larger moss covered stone, would lend itself as a perfect staging post for my tripod. The 100 yard walk was fraught with danger, the rocks were slippery and some were loose. I made it with nothing worse than dirty fingernails and I did manage to get some nice shots. The trek back to shore was not quite so easy, sufficed to say I slipped down the lower part of the waterfall, my feet flying up from under me, my backside bouncing off a rock and into the water. I was wet and dirty, my beautiful suit was luckily not ripped but it is covered in mud, my cufflinks, given as an anniversary present have collected river muck and the sleeves of my white shirt are now brown. Luckily I didn't hurt more than my pride. I must have made a comical picture, unfortunately one that I didn't take, failing to see the funny side until I dried out.
Gibson Mill was a revelation, it doesn't look much more than a mill but it stands infront of a small lake and because of it's stillness, it gives a perfect reflection in the water. I took an IR and an HDR shot as the weather was a little grey but they both look good.
My next stop was to the top of the valley, looking down on Hebden Bridge. What a superb view but as it is Summer, the damned greenery was blocking out the best shots. It's a times like that I wish that I lived somewhere with better panoramas, just for the experience of knowing how to take the shot. I wasn't experienced enough to capture the view, taking nothing more than a token snap.
My trek home was scary. As I left the heights and drove back down to Hebden Bridge, the grinding noise started, that metal on metal sound that indicates that all is not right somewhere behind me in the car. As I slowed it became excrutiating and at low speed it was reverberating off shop windows, walls and people. I was scaring cats, dogs and killing small animals with low sound tolerance. There was only one solution, drive faster and leave the sound behind. I am of the ostrich opinion that if you can't see it, it isn't there. At 70 mph on the M1, the sound was a distant memory, fading into the miles somewhere North of Leeds, however, when I left the Motorway at Junction 16, the sound rattled the teeth in my head. I limped home, ignoring the curtains that rustled as I thundered by, ignoring the children screaming for their mothers at my apocalyptic approach and the old guard reaching for their rifles to protect Blighty from the metallic menace.
This morning was even worse. The car creaked and groaned down the road, more the sound of pain and anger than the euphoric screaming of yesterday. The mechanic was far too young and nowhere near experienced enough to fleece me. He did suggest 2 new rear tyres as my others were apparently worn. How he said this with a straight face as I stared down at my old tyres with their 2 feet of tread, I'll never know. He then gave me the bad news, calipers, brakes and discs and with a great sucking in of cheeks, gave me a bill of £300. So now I am waiting for my car to be ready and once that is done, I may well put my suit in for dry cleaning although I know exactly how this will play out, I won't bother and by the time I need it next I will curse Hebden Bridge as I look at the bacterial growths that have sprung out of the seat of my pants.

I run like a snail.......

So the World Cup is nearly over, bar the recriminations and tears. Brilliant match last night, Spain Vs Germany, it felt like the final. Interesting that the German octopus predicted this result, I must get me one of those and see you in the Bahamas when I've won the lottery.

My running is going painfully and slowly. My times aren't particularly impressive but the amount of effort and sweat that I'm putting into it, is. I run like a snail, leaving a watery trail in my wake...when I say wake, please don't think that I actually go fast enough to leave a wake, I barely move fast enough to leave a trail. I never did manage the 7 miler. I went out last Saturday for a 5 mile run. At 3 miles the thought crossed my mind that I should stop for a drink of water, my second thought was "Quitter!" So I didn't stop. At 4 miles I decided that I'd had enough and would walk the rest of the way, I also changed my mind and did finish the full distance but the cost to my body was painful and my mental state is suffering, dreading any distance. I have run 3 and 2 milers this week and have found them painful, no fun, pleasure or even much of a sense of achievement. My intention to run 7 miles is slowly but surely falling by the wayside. I don't know if it's the weather or just the time of year. My youngest needed some new running shoes and apparently the chap in the shop was also complaining about tiredness and breathing problems so maybe I'm not alone.
I saw some overweight old chap running the other weekend. It was midday and hot. I had run earlier in the day when it was cooler and I was depressed to notice that he looked fresh and easy in his stride, not like my shambolic gait as I draw in wheezy breaths like a whale, dripping down the road at 0.2mph. I do find it heartening to see people take the time to look after themselves. Running does take effort and determination, particularly when it is hard. I am proud of myself for carrying on and not taking a break but it is also difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel when this is actually an anomaly, I seem to remember last Summer being easier and it is Winter that causes the problems.
So if you see a tramplike figure, staggering down the road in the morning, please don't assume he is drunk, if the face is grey and creased, almost painful looking and the sweat is beading off it in rivulets, it is most likely me, so please be kind and give me a lift home.

...we're English, we don't expect to win.....

I would say I was gutted by our abrupt, boring and spiritless World Cup "adventure" but the reality is that I am relieved. I don't think the Germans played brilliantly, if they had, we'd have lost by a far greater margin. I am thankful we aren't facing Argentina, we'd have lost by at least 10 goals. Don't get me wrong, I think the Germans played beautifully, they were fast and surgical in their annihilation of our National team but they had some fear in the early stages of the match, they treated us with a respect that we didn't deserve.
To sum up the dismal England performance, Richard Littlejohn said it best, "Thank Heaven The Few didn't defend as badly as England's footballers in Bloemfontein at the weekend, otherwise we'd all be speaking German."
I don't blame the manager, I think John Terry's remarks tell their own tale, ironic that it was his defending that failed the team and ultimately the pride of the Country, possibly his mutinous stirrings didn't help. Maybe I am being a little hard on him, after all it is only a game but we don't mind defeat so long as we see some heart and soul. The US fought to the end, Chile and Mexico showed latin spirit and refused to bow down, even when beaten. It's not the losing, it's the fact that we all expected a great game, we're English, we don't expect to win but we do expect every man to do his duty, particularly against the Germans.
Luckily for me, I went to Waddesdon Manor to watch the football. It meant that rather than sit there and feel sick to my stomach, I could go and take some nice photographs. I have spoken about Waddesdon Manor before, it is always worth visiting, the Manor is impressive and despite it's relatively short history, it has had its share of famous visitors. The gardens are sculpted works of art and you are actually allowed to walk on the grass. It doesn't get too crowded so on a sunny day, take a picnic.
I am back to running with a vengeance. This morning we did a speed trial over a mile and put in our fastest time to date. I was flagging so seriously that I nearly told my little whippet daughter to go ahead without me. Where I found the reserves of strength, I'll never know but I am paying the price now.
Tomorrow I am hoping to put in 7 miles but we'll see, I am not great in the mornings at the moment and the heat may deter me, so determined is my resolve!

Anyway, to finish on a more positive note....Go Ghana!! At least the last remaining African team can show me that my faith in them is not lost and even if they do lose, they can go out with their heads held high, they came, they saw and they believed they could do it...who am I to argue?

As I said in an earlier post, I am not a fan of football but every 4 years I become the ultimate football pundit, an expert on the offside rule, critical of the mediocre talent that isn't as good as the talent "back in the day" and an absolute legend...in my own mind. The World cup is around again and my family have opted live in a different room to me already. I ignore the Champions League, view the FA cup disdainfully and see no point in supporting a football team for 3 years and 11 months. Why should I bother when the main event gives me the ultimate team to support and the cup means something more than a club level piece of tin, this is the "Cup", the one we've been waiting for, the BIG one.
This year started differently. The WC started on Friday and I wasn't "feeling it". "It" being the knot of excitement. Fortunately I felt it on Saturday once England came on to the pitch, the feeling that this is it, the excitement and pride that means the WC is really here.
I won't criticise the England team, they did what they always do, they took us on a rollercoaster of ups and downs. What did we expect? Really? This is the World cup final, there is no easy ride and besides, this is the England team and we all know that they never raise their game above the level of their opposition. They insist of fighting for every point and we always complain. I won't fault them, I thought they played well and I am looking forward to every match they play with a positive attitude and a blind belief that they can't fail.
I watched Sven Vs Portugal and he used the same tactics he made us use and smothered Portugal into a boring mess. I watched North Korea give Brazil a very rude awakening. I thought their containing tactics were brilliant, once any of the Brazilian team got into the North Korean half, they were smothered with the little red shirted Koreans. They couldn't turn, pass, move or shoot with any effect. I wonder which teams will note that tactic and use it? England, I hope!
Germany were brilliant, proper football and such a convincing display of domination, skill and the brutal destruction of the Australian dreams for this World cup. I was pleased to see the referee book 2 of the German team for diving, we don't need them taking a leaf out of Herr Klinsman's book and cheating to win, they don't need to do that, they are a great team, I just hope they are peaking too early!
I actually fancy our chances against Germany, I think it would be a great match and worthy of the final.
The World cup does tend to bring out all the old prejudices, particularly against the French team, after all, it should've been Ireland. The Irish are great ambassadors, they invade your Country and your heart, drink all your alcohol and for a month they are your best friends but the French have stolen that pleasure from the Africans with the cruel and cheating hand of fate.....I did laugh when I saw that the Irish were smashing up Henry Hoovers after the qualifying match! On the plus side, it does mean that not only will I be bring up Cressy, Agincourt, Trafalgar, Waterloo and both World Wars to my French friends, but I can bring up the cheating hand of Henry as well.

Time for bed, I have 3 matches to watch tomorrow and I am absolutely fooballed out today. It's been boring, exciting and thrilling and tomorrow promises so much more of the same. Ciao for now.

Race for Life 2010

We had a running day yesterday, well my daughter did. Yesterday was her annual Race for Life event. For those that don't know what that is, it is a women only Cancer Research run over 5km (3.1 miles)and included around 3,500 women per race and they take place all over the UK. They raise some serious money towards Cancer Research and particularly women's cancer, an area that is neglected by the NHS as men get preferential treatment.
She did it for the first time 3 years ago and came in the 60's somewhere, in around 30 mins. As this is a charity event, it's not really a race but you do get some hardcore female runners who finish in around 20 mins. Last year my daughter came 27th in 27 minutes.
I should explain that the reason she started doing it was as an incentive just after we started running, to continue training with an end goal every year. That first year (and subsequent years) she has fallen in love with the day, the charity and the course. The course, the last 2 years, has been through Waddesdon Estate, plenty of shade and a beautiful run, as I found out as we have run it a few times.
Unfortunately the course wasn't a available this year as the roads were in poor condition and they were repairing them, so she was entered in the Milton Keynes run, yesterday morning.
She seemed particularly nervous as we hadn't run too much last week, 3 days out of 7 but she seemed intent on pushing her boundaries. We got there and there are over 3,000 women standing in a field commemorating loved ones that have died, are fighting or have beaten cancer. It is a celebration, a rememberance and a steely determined effort not to bow down to something that they can change, something that only women can do. If this were a mens event, it would be competitive and not quite so supportive. Last year a couple of ladies pushed my daughter up a hill she was struggling with, in a mens race we would trample them underfoot, checking them off as one down, so many to go.
There was a poignant moment when they had a minute of silence and released 12 white doves. They wheeled above the crowd of silent, pink dressed women and disappeared into the grey, leaden sky. You really couldn't help but reflect on those that you know that have fought and others that have died of Cancer. You could't help but glance at the sea of faces, young and old, all with a tale to tell.
The 10k runners went off first so I led my daughter to the start line. She was pretty far back as it was jammed with women, all waiting to start.
The start went down a straight for maybe 100 yards, then turned a sharp left and I positioned myself round the bend. I intended to snap the first ladies round the bend and then take a longer exposure shot of the ladies running past, a moving wave of pink and in between that, cheer my daughter. The horn went and off they set. I waited expectantly for the first runner, she came round the bend and it was my daughter. With the determination that only a 12 year old can muster, she pushed her way to the front and took off from the start like a rocket. By the time she got to me, the rest of the field was a second or so behind. I was cheering and laughing, the proud parent. I thought she would finish at around the 26/27 minute mark. The course had a hill and some turns at the finish so it was impossible see the runners until they were nearly on you. First place went to a young woman in around 21-22 mins. Second place was maybe a minute after that and third place must have been 23-24 mins, I know this because my daughter came storming home in 4th at 24 mins and 21 seconds, a personal best for her.
I was and am so proud. I am now considering the men's charity runs as they have a "Run for Moore", the Bobby Moore Cancer Charity run. They have a 13 miler in Windsor Great Park so I am about to up my running miles before I enter. I was also very interested in parkrun.com, a series of free runs across the Country. There isn't one near me but I guess that's because people avoid this area, no-one comes here for fun but there is the option of starting one.

Anyway, enough of the proud parent and next time it will be back to the grumpy old man!

My so obviously god given guitar talents.........

I seem to have really gone off track with my original intentions for this blog, however, thoughts take us wherever the wind blows.

My recent reflections have been on music. My musical taste has always been diverse (I know, everyone says that) but I have been pretty single minded in what I like and dislike. My first love was rock music and over the past 15 years that has vied with classical music as my weapon of choice. I was recently rocked by the deaths of the legend Ronnie James Dio, Pete Steele of Type O Negative and Paul Gray of Slipknot. Dio was that magical cartoon character that was larger than life and the epitome of rock, unbending, unchanging. Pete Steele reflected the depreciating humour and cool rock attitude that you either got or didn't. A remarkable voice and an amazing producer. Paul Gray was the new breed, new attitude and new times, I have to admit that I am not a huge fan but I saw the band on the web announcing his death and they all broke down in tears, that moved me. It made me think about my own mortality and more importantly, how come rock stars seem to age in a different time zone to the rest of us?
Jimmy Page allegedly appeared on half the recordings released in the '60's, he's 126 years old and looks great. Maybe it's magic, maybe taking copious amounts of drugs keeps you young. Even new boys like the guys from Guns 'n' Roses look good for their ages, is there any evidence, apart from death, that drugs are bad for you?
Cliff Richard is 181 and looks great for it. I know Cliff gets a lot of bad press and I personally lost interest after "Move it" (reissued in the late '70's) but I can't believe he looks that good without the aid of the same drugs that Jimmy Page took. And Macca. How come he looks so good? I'll tell you, drugs. Due to my lack of drug use, I expect to be dead any day now, from natural causes.

It used to be that Rockstars died in a blaze of glory. Drugs, alcohol, plane and car crashes. Now we have our rebellious heroes getting old. Many look great but then you have some that show every single day since they were created (rockstars aren't born), on their faces. Keef Richards, legend and rockstar, 128 years old, has a face so craggy that mountains model themselves on it. To quote Billy Crystal in "City Slickers"...."He's like a saddlebag with eyes." Ozzy, Iggy and Lemmy aren't slacking on the aging front either.

This brings me round to emulating our heroes. How many of us didn't want to be a rock god? For those that play guitar, joining a band, maybe recording a demo and then playing Wembley and touring the States, it all looked so easy. It occurred to me that all the greatest stars are either my heroes or my age. A friend of mine recently joined a band and I was envious. I couldn't believe that I was envious, I don't have time for a band and I'm too old, aren't ? It seems a little "midlife crisis" to me, but I can't help but think.........
Then, just when I thought I was safe, another friend mentioned a parents day where they all bring an instrument and I am depressed to say that I was tempted and was seriously considering it. It did worry me so I spent a few hours last night practising and realised that I wasn't as good as I remembered I was. Then I found out that it's a Sutton day so I won't be around for it. The shame of it is that my wife said it would be fun and that's a green light. What most people don't consider, is that guitarists are a competitive lot and I know how this would pan out. You'd bring your best guitar and secretly bring your loudest amp, to drown out any competition and you learn an impossible lick, often known as the guitar shop lick, something so incredibly flash to put the staff in their place and let them know that they're dealing with a "Professional". You drag out this lick to intimidate other guitarists but it never works as they all have one too and they are all, invariably, better than mine.
I am still uncertain about this whole "get old and rock out" thing. It's all a bit Clapton for me, (I never understood why he had the nickname "slowhand". He's a guitarist, you want a name like "blindingly fast hand" or "holy crap how fast were those fingers, hand". Then he was quoted as saying that it's not what you play, it's what you don't play........No, it's what you play and how many damned notes you can fit into it that counts, Mr Bloody Slowhand. I loved his work with Cream, he had fire and passion, they split up and he got old overnight), and that's my concern. As I'm getting older, the things that I shunned in my youth are appealing to me. Dads rocking out does actually sound like a lot of fun and, like "Dad dancing", it is fun but am I really ready to enter this stage of my life, voluntarily, no kicking and screaming? Do I hide my so obviously god given guitar talents under a bushell or go whole heartedly and embarrass myself? There is that saying, "It is better to regret the things you've done than those you haven't". All a bit "Do as thou wilt" Aleister Crowley to me but a tricky dilema all the same.

It seems to that our rockstar heroes do reflect our lives after all. Some are getting old disgracefully, some are accepting it with dignity, and others, like Dio, Peter Steele and Paul Gray, don't make it. I am still finding my category and it is a struggle but I hope that I am not in the latter.
Just to finish with a few lines from "Say hello to Heaven" by Temple of the Dog.

"I never wanted
To write these words down for you,
All the pages, and phrases
All the things we'll never do.
So I blow out the candle and
I put you to bed"

Life is looking dull......

I'm not sure what I'm going to do now the election is all but over. We are still dissecting what has actually happened and how this affects us. There appears to be a great feeling of positivity but thankfully it isn't the dumb acceptance that "things can only get better" as in the Blair election victory. I have some hopeful optimism, now my disbelief has settled.
Conservatives doing a deal with the Libdems? Never happen and then lo and behold, it did. I have to admit that my first feeling was anger, I wanted a decisive Governement and a coalition is not something that we English do. Watered down politics and backroom deals is not democracy, it's something we laugh at the European nations about. However, in the cold light of day, David Cameron has pulled a masterstroke. He has potentially negated the need for a Labour party, rebranded the Conservatives into an all encompassing party and shared the hate and the pain that is to come, between the two parties.
Being English, suspicion is a part of our nature. I can't help but look at the Camron deal and wonder what is left for the Libdems after the honeymoon is over. Come the next election, would they really go gracefully back to opposition of the opposition, the third place guys that mean nothing? From power to nowhere in one easy stroke. Their future is far more in doubt and providing this coalition lasts the 5 years, I will be interested to see what happens next.
The plus side to this coalition is that it showed who the decent and honourable members of the Labour Party are. John Reid, David Blunkett and Diane Abbot deserve a special mention for not trying to crap on the electorate. Peter Mandelson and Alastair Campbell are now shown to be the maggots that we all thought they are and I am pleased that David Cameron has out manouveured them.

Being a sceptic on Europe and the euro, I am heartened to see that some of my faith in the pound has been justified. I do feel sorry for the poor old Germans and the other nations that were dragged into this huge power grab on our economies and way of life but from where I'm sitting, there but for the grace of God go I! Greece, Spain, Portugal, it seems that the euro is in a very dangerous place. There is little enough money to go around without having to bail out economies that potentially shouldn't have been in the euro to start with. If I was a member state, I would be asking some very probing questions on the who's and why's. I guess that once you have an unelected Governing body, who do you ask? Democracy is a delicate balance and once that balance has been steam rollered, it is difficult to put it back short of civil unrest or revolution, unless you're English and then you suck it up, complain alot and do very little. The French take to streets, burn sheep and blockade ports over the slightest thing. Look at the Greeks, all retiring from the civil service at 40, pensions for life that are passed on to their families in the event of their death and they are rioting, burning banks and pregnant women because they feel hard done by. I think that I may prefer the English way, it spares women and sheep and the changes may come slower, but they do come.

I'm not too sure what I am going to do now the election is over. Life is looking dull after all the excitement. I do have one consolation though, I do not follow football except that every 4 years I become a rabid fan of the World Cup, and as that is only a month away, I shall ensure that my England T-shirts are washed and pressed and I shall be singing Rule Britannia whilst trying to remember how the hell I drank so much of this goddawful beer in my youth and later, more importantly, as I lie there vomitting with my head on the rim of the toilet......why?

The Puzzle of Puzzlewood

I visited Puzzlewood in the Forest of Dean for the second time yesterday. It is truly spectacular. I visited it last October and it was in the dying throes of Autumn, but its magnificence was incredible. This time I visited in Spring and it was breathtaking. I can see how it influenced Tolkein, it is surreal, Middle Earth meets reality.
It was so vividly green and twisted, a fairytale made real. I would thoroughly recommend that all photographers visit Puzzlewood, those that like Froud and Tolkein and all small children should also go. It is impossible to capture it in a photograph and do it justice. I tried and I failed....that could have been my lack of ability I guess, I prefer to blame the subject!
Puzzlewood is a puzzle on many levels. My first is commercial, why is this place so hidden from the public at large? I discovered it by accident and although there were quite a few people there and many TV bits have been filmed there, it is a little patch of paradise hidden from the World. In a sense I shouldn't complain, it means that I stand more chance of taking a shot devoid of people and have a fallback location that works come rain or shine, Summer or Winter.
The second puzzle of Puzzlewood for me, is how come the forest around Puzzlewood is different? It isn't as gnarled, it is more conventional and doesn't have the ancient character of Puzzlewood. I am sure there is a simple explanation, maybe the surrounding forest is more recent but I don't know.
I have a few new shots of it on my Flickr page, as I said, they really don't do it justice and I will certainly be heading back in Summer and early Autumn to see how it changes and to try my luck again.

It just amazes me that we are so lucky in the UK, to have these little pockets of heaven. Near me is Waddesdon Manor and estate, it is a haven, beautiful grounds, a good history and it has "that" feeling about it.
Cumbria and the Lakes is the obvious choice, as is the Peak District, both incredible and for different reasons. I like trees and water, the Forest of Dean, Morden Hall Park (for reflections), Kensington Gardens, Apsley Guise, Woburn Woods, Wendover Woods, all worth visiting. I have visited the Seven Sisters on a couple of occasions and have yet to take a definitive shot of them. If you go there then you must also visit Battle Abbey and Bodium Castle. If time allows then you must visit the magnificent ruin of Corfe and go see Blue Pool and maybe Pevensey Castle as well. I haven't ventured into the Northeast, Wales or Scotland yet, I still haven't visited East Anglia in detail, not even Essex and Kent, I haven't touched Birmingham or done enough in London. This Country is packed with things to see. It is fast becoming my quest in life to know England better. To know its character better.

Puzzlewood has it's puzzles but it was a chance discovery for me and it has left me with an evangelical feeling to sing its praises but it leaves me with a slight sadness, how many more places are there like this? How many more hidden jewels off the beaten track that I will never experience? Visit Puzzlewood and you will know what I mean.

Fluff, pretty face and Old Parties.....

I have been avidly watching the Political debates in the UK. I know that some people find them boring but I have been captivated by the way this contest has shaped up. I was starting to feel sorry for poor old Gordon but then he slandered that poor woman on International television. It has been played up and played down in the press but the key point for me was the fact that the soundbite that is left, is that an old lady in Rochdale is a bigot. That's not right.

I think that the inclusion of the Lib Dem's in the debate has been a galvanising factor and I hope the turnout reflects that. I also think a hung Parliament would be disastrous for businesses and whichever party is to lead the Country needs to make some hard cuts, we all know this and they need a mandate to be able to get on with the job in hand.
I am not a fan of Nick Clegg, I see too many Tony Blair mannerisms, too much style and too little substance but I think that this may open the election up in future years for other parties, and that is no bad thing.

Here is my take on yesterdays events:

Gordon Brown: Thanks you......Mistake.....Economy...More of the same.....conservatives bad, David is Satan.
Nick Clegg: Immigration amnesty....sad eyes....Economy fluff....Pretty face....Old Parties....Change to something new but not sure what.
David Cameron: Big Society....Hard choices....Pull together....Invest in new business.

Gordon: Conservatives bad.....David eats babies....bad for families.
Nick: Fluff....Pretty face...Old parties....Change.
David: Immigration cap....English Industry....English jobs...Euro bad....Vote for change.

That is how I viewed the debate. I was disappointed that Nick Clegg really didn't really have any policies and the ones he did have were not thought through properly. I am also not convinced that he is strong enough. He got a "bitchslap" from Cameron and Brown over immigration and his support of the Euro and really didn't seem to cope too well.
I found Gordon to be on his best form although that means very little. I am stunned at his hatred of anything Conservative and his message appears to be, "Vote for me as I'm not David Cameron". Not a great strategy and very negative.
David Cameron fared well. He had the most cohesive message and I thought was clearer than the others on what he intends although none of them will tell us the extent of the cuts they will really have to make.

Make me PM, I can sort out the economy in seconds, we will line up our economy with Tony Blair's investments, he knows how to make money although I guess we have to make the money legally, that may be the fly in the ointment.
I see that TB is hitting the campaign trail for Gordon. Seems to me that Gordon really doesn't want to win this election, who needs to be reminded on the bad things that can happen when a nutter runs the Country, corruption spikes, people die and morals are ground beneath the hobnailed boots of "a society fair for everyone", time for a change, I think.

Quote of the Year...so far.

About the Politicians involved in the "lobbygate" scandal:

"...which suggests that you're not just greedy, but stupid as well and I'm not sure which is worse in an elected official."

Andrew Neil "This Week" aired 25th March 2010 BBC1.

Don't despair, all hope is lost....

It occurred to me, the other day, as I read the various reports on something that Barrack Obama was doing that had the US split down the middle, that hope is a double edged sword. It was at this point that it dawned on me why the UK election appears to be in a lot of trouble. For one of the first times in my life, I am absolutely without hope. We are going to the polls with no hope of anything getting any better, we are voting on who is the least bad. They may have their negative campaigning, slogans and initiatives on what they will achieve but it all boils down to the fact that we don't like any of them and no-one trusts a politician (that old adage goes without saying).

I have a far better proposal, gladitorial combat. Cameron and Brown in armour with swords, shields and tridents. A fight to the death, winner takes all.....if he gets past the lion. Cameron has age and fitness on his side and probably speed too. Brown has size and strength and probably enough heart to give a good fight. I don't think either of them would survive the lion though. Wouldn't that be a great day out? Popcorn and hotdogs as we watch flabby politicians go to it.
Now if we took this to the international stage, then things could far more fun. Putin Vs Obama? Now that would be an interesting match up. Maybe Obama Vs Bin Laden? Just think of all the disputes that we could settle and the bonus is that whoever has the hardest and toughest leader, wins. Do you think Tony Blair would have gone into all those wars if he thought he'd have to fight them? Maybe Hitler would have thought twice?

In the US, do you remember the scenes when Obama won the election? A girl I know in the UK cried, like many across the Globe, she got caught up in the emotion of the situation. America was in the grip of hysteria brought on by hope. There was absolutely no way that Obama could deliver on that expectation and now we see the US split on the very same Healthcare reforms that were his number one priority when he ran for President. Hope is a double edged sword, on the one hand it motivated a huge amount of the younger US population to vote and to prove that their votes did count for something and they could change the World, on the other hand it gave them hopes that could never be delivered on in the way they expected. They expected a Messiah and got a man.
In the UK we have no hopes left, we are voting for who we believe will be less damaging but we don't even have much faith that we will even get that right. Unlike the Americans who are torn, angry and feeling betrayed, we don't have the burden of hope, we will get on with our lives knowing that taxes go the opposite way to wages, dreams are for fools and if we're lucky, we may get to retire before we die. Don't despair, all hope is lost but at least we won't be disappointed.

God hates me......

We have been lucky with some nice sunny days in the UK. Unfortunately they have been really bright during the day and with Spring not yet here, everything looks yellow, brown and very dead. It's been a little depressing to have such nice weather and having to resort to the same old locations as last year and take pictures of the same old blown out, dead plants and trees. I was getting depressed (you may have noticed that coming on in the last post). Then I discovered IR photography it requires bright and sunny days, best taken when the sun is at it's brightest. Right, thought I, this is the future of my photography, normal shots morning, evening and night and IR photos during the day. Anyway, I ordered a filter through Warehouse Express and with their normal impeccable service, it was delivered the next day.....I'd ordered the wrong filter, a 49mm instead of 58mm.....moron. Anyway, shipped it back and reordered, all the while watching the beautiful sunny days with longing and hope, unable to take photos as I needed this IR filter to complete my life. I even upgraded my tripod to a Manfrotto as I may need the extra stability that brings. I spent my time reading all about it so I knew the exposures I would need and custom white balances etc..
My filter turned up this morning and the day is grey with hints of rain. No clouds, nothing that even brings a glimmer of hope to my now ruined soul.....God hates me.

Disillusioned.

Maybe it's the time of year, the weather or maybe I'm just getting older but I can't seem to find anything to be happy about. The weather is horrible to run in, as it's mostly grey and raining, it's pretty poor for taking photographs of as well. Having said that, armed with a torch and a bunch of flowers, I managed to get some stunning shots of them. They looked Photoshop'd but I can assure you they weren't.
I haven't really been able to motivate myself to run. This is partly due to the excessive snow and ice that we had, kept me in. The news reported record numbers of broken bones and I had no intention of being one of them. It did mean that I am almost back to square one with my distances though. I am struggling with 2 miles a day although I have a suspicion that after Christmas and into the early part of last year, I had the same problem...who knows....

I have been showing an unhealthy interest in politics more recently. It's been fascinating to see a Government that is obviously rubbish and always has been, become an absolute shambles and then to see the usually more eloquent and capable opposition shoot themselves in the foot, I have no idea how that happened but it is quite incredible. Even with the press savaging that Gordon the moron is getting over his bullying and heavy handed ways, David Cameron can't seem to get to grips with him. I was watching Nigel Farage (UKIP) on "Youtube" and I liked his savagery. He was blunt to the point of rudeness but his point was so passionately put that I warmed to him. I actually believe that he means what he says. It would have been nice to have been asked if I wanted to be run from Brussels by a Central Government rather than have it imposed on me.

I think is possibly part of the problem I have, I feel powerless. My vote seems to mean nothing and the politicians think they know better. Who knows what the people of this Country need better than me? Certainly not some wannabe socialist who earns a small fortune for falling asleep in the House of Commons and boosts his wages by fiddling his expenses and certainly not a silver spooned chap with an expensive moat and duck house to maintain. I think the political system in this Country needs a shakeup. When you get beyond the point that a meglomaniac can wage a war on false pretences, against legal advice and the will of the Country and we are coerced into a political union that segues sovereignty to a foreign power without a referendum, also against the will of the Country, you can't help but feel disillusioned with life in England. I struggle to understand why criminal charges haven't been brought against Tony Blair. Legally he appears to be totally wrong and it would certainly be in the best interest of the Nation to have such a dangerous man locked up. He is personally responsible for the greatest loss of life in this Country since WW2.

I have decided that the lack of Sun is the fault of New Labour, it's yet another Government cut back. I did also notice that many of our roads are also suffering from Gordon's recession, the speed limit appears to be cut on many of them.....

The Lie

In the beginning it was a speck,
The speck of a lie in the Word.
Misused and abused over aeons,
It shouted until it was heard
Above the din of Truth. Growing
In volume until it is all we hear.
The only sound is lies from every
Tongue. To all, their greatest fear,
One lie to rule them, one lie to
Bind them and in the recesses
Of darkest thought, to blind them.
Small, tail less mice, scurrying,
Hurrying, worrying about stresses
Imagined. Stresses whispered.
Stresses of love, stresses of hate,
The stress of work, the mounting
Cliff walls unrealised until too late,
Then the free fall, spiral, beyond
Control, beyond mind, beyond care
And hope, beyond knowledge and
Comprehension, beyond despair.
The earth will always thirst for us,
This sacrifice of flesh and bone,
Leaving the one and only surety,
Finally the truth, we all die alone.