I'm Turning Japanese. I Really Think So ...

Here were are at the Oak, Asakusa (Tokyo). Two old farts gadding about ...

Ooo, Er Ain't The Sunshine Great ...

After a mad, dashing-about on Monday, my car is tested, taxed and waxed. I must have walk miles to and from offices and garage but it was all done in glorious sunshine.

Most of the "house" has been unpacked; what a load of rubbish we hold dear to our bosoms; do we really want the nick-knack from long gone Uncle Fed? Not that I ever had an Uncle Fred. Questions upon questions and all about "things" we didn't even know we had let-alone that we looked at regularly. What silly sentimental duffers we all are ...

Now it's down to video editing. I can't remember the name of some of the places; the places I remember but the names? I suppose it's a case of adopting  a "roses and names" philosophy ...

So the music plays and we dance on. Why? It's a mystery to me!

Horsetrailyer - Kulture Free Zone At Last

Well possums, here we are in Horsetrailyer again. Sun a-shining and all the convicts are safe in their cells. What a difference. One minute we were in London, the next it was Tokyo and then Sydney. I dropped by Travelscene to check on return fares just to keep a bit of perspective.

So, now my car is unregistered and, because of the rules I have to return the number plates and go though all the hoops again - same car but thats colonials Freddy Boy.

We have been blown away by the reception our convict friends have given us - that really makes us feel very privilege. Lots to unpack and re-do which is good for old farts like us; you can get too bogged down with "things" being just-so and unable to cope with change. "Oh, er, its' seven minutes past eleven! I have to have my tea; one and a half sugars and a splash of milk; Earl Grey mind; with two digestives - the ones in the white jar Uncle Bert gave me for my 21st ..." Time for walkies ....

Now its time for a little rest while I process all the video footage and book another trip.

Chrysanthemum Me!

A little ride on the Yamanote people moving iron horse brought us to Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden. This is, more or less, in the centre of Tokyo and is one of the largest gardens. It was the first day of the chrysanthemum show. I never saw such huge displays of huge flowers. Some sort of sculptured intomulti-bloom thingies; one plant and hundreds of flowers in a sort of wire corset. One display was of hundreds of perfect huge individual blooms. Stunning as you would expect just because its Japan.

The weather seems far from what we expect of autumn - sunny and 24 deg C.

About 5 hours of walking and God knows how many steps leaves us completely knackered!

Tokyo means a 7pm Bedtime!

Twelve hours of flying makes my arms somewhat tired which means I fell asleep at 7 pm!

JAL once again proved that its the worlds best airline and systems were all functioning well from London hotel to Tokyo hotel so hurrah for the little people who keep the whole going - still puzzles me that the self appointed "execs" think its them what make things go. Don't get me onto my soap box about the workers versus the suits else you'll think I'm a socialist ...

A quick wander around Asakusa, a vist to Mr Doughnut and the super market and that's us totally stuffed for the day - hence the 7pm beddy-byes.

Nighty-night campers ....

Halloween ... Shefield Style

We walked to town yesterday and were surprised to see a full-blown fair in the centre. Rides and stalls of all descriptions, food and masses of people. Families, groups of friends and loads of uni students most of which were dressed up for Halloween. It was good to see the people take over the city centre and having a good time. It's call "Fright Night" and touted as Sheffield's Halloween Party. We reckon Sheffield council are doing the right thing to let this sort of event happen; it lifts peoples spirits and give us all a break from the doom-and-gloom that seems to dominate life these days. Best of all, it seems to be a real family affair.

Strike, Strike , Strike ....

What isn't working today? Buses, Post, and fire services (the folks who put fire out, duh ..) Well it is coming up to Christmas. It's all cleaning and packing ready for Transportation. Not that I'm too happy about that but it's inevitable at this point in time. Ho hum ...

Sheffield has been a good place to hang my hat; convenient for transport and all other aspects of day-to-day doings. I wouldn't want to settle here for good; too big, hectic and noisy. Yes, we old fogies like a bit of peace and quiet plus absence of over iPoded kiddies. Poor souls don't seem to exist outside the virtual techno-world. What? Actually speak to other denizens of the forest? You have to be joking! That would require social skills which are just not cool ...

What's next ...

Misty, Moisty, Morning Peaks

The 272 took us to Fox House where we started a 10 km waddle over the peaks. It was cool and very atmospheric; just the sort of thing you'd expect in a scene from Wuthering Heights. Disappointingly there was no Heathcliff to greet us at the National Trust cafe at the Longshaw Estate.

A liberal application of tea and excellent cakes recharged our energy for further waddling. Onward and upward!

The study 272 took us home after a great afternoon out. A notice in the bus informed us that there would be no drivers' strike this week!

But, Is It Art?

One of the pieces in the Irish show was many sheets (A4) with internet site translations of an original piece of prose in English through several languages and back into English. Like This:

These are the instructions to change the battery in your mobile telephone. Read them carefully before you start.

Queste sono le istruzioni per cambiare la batteria in vostro telefono mobile. Colto loro prima di voi inizi con attenzione.

Celles-ci sont les instructions pour changer la batterie dans vos téléphone mobile. Cueilli les avant vous débuts avec attention.

Ezek az utasítások változtatni az akkumulátor, meg mobiltelefonja. Előtt összegyűjtött ön csak a figyelmet.

Diese Anweisungen änderten die Batterie Ihr bewegliches Telefon. Gesammelt vor Ihrem nur zur Aufmerksamkeit.

Тези инструкции промяна на батерията вашия мобилен телефон. Събират преди тяхното само на вниманието.

Cambio de estas instrucciones de la batería su teléfono móvil. Recogido antes de su solamente tention.

Promena ovih uputstava baterija svoje pokretne telefon. okupili su se pre nego što mu samo pažnju.

د دغو احکامو د موبايل ټليفون د تليفون له لارې لېږد وړ دي. و غونډوي هغه په وړاندې كېږي يوازې د توجه کيږي.

Den mobiltelefon, løst. Samlet er mot de måste uppmärksammas.

The cell phone, has been solved. Total is against the Attention.

I ask this: Do the several sheets of A4 pinned to a wall constitute a piece of "Art"?

Ah, That Was Great For Me ...

Two excellent weeks walking in Venice; plus the odd boat trip just to save the legs. Excellent! I am never disappointed by the churches and buildings in this unique city. Even the mass of tourists is made up for by the absence of cars. So many cruise ships; there can be six a day each with 3000 plus lemmings packed into them. BUT! Ignore all that and it's a great place.

The Biennale was, as expected, a load of old and new rubbish. Best was the Italian show. The Iranian show was one of the best. The Australian was not that interesting and the Brit show was just crap. We had great time visiting all but three of the shows through out the city; a nice moan and loads of coffee! What was noticeable was the lack of placards explaining the meaning of works in totally undecipherable language - a great improvement. Mind you, reading the handouts was still like wading through verbal treacle.

The trip back to Sheffield couldn't have gone any better; all connections worked perfectly and the various staff were excellent. It took: a boat, a plane, three buses and a total of 13 hours! There we are, another great experience which wouldn't be possible without the hum-drum, daily grind of ordinary folk. So much for celebrity; what useless swankers they are ...

If you want to rent an apartment in Venice try: www.casanpietro.it we have never been disappointed.

Venice - Fantastic!

Here we are at the apartment in Venice. Snug little place out of the way. Weather is perfect and, despite the crowds in town, it is as lovely as ever - timeless but modern!

Some Biennale art seen so far is frankly crap and the write-up sheer tosh. It's what you expect but, fingers crossed, there will be something worth looking at somewhere in the exhibition.

Hey Ho ... Four Hour Wait ... That's Travel.

There is nothing more boring than sitting in a regional airport waiting for a flight. Now four hours seems to pass reasonably fast so long as you are a sleep; I'm not and the cafe not that good. Marmaduke reads her book so that's no problem. Maybe I should turn into a football fan and sink 8 prints of Wife Beater so I can make a complete fool of myself on the plane. No, that wouldn't get me a gold star. Most annoying is the repetitive taped instructions about security. Rap by the paragraph! A new art form ...

Wow! Its Cousin Harry!

A day out in the country; lovely, sunny weather. Time to visit Tatershall Castle - last time I was actually 'young'. St Michael's next door is also worth a visit; in we went, looked and left. Lunch under a willow - a English late-summer day; perfect. Until ... the earth moved for us.

Nearby RAF Conningsby is where the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight is based. So, when our quite picnic was blasted by the sound of kerro burning, we were delighted to see a Eurofighter (Typhoon) going into a a full-burn hammer head in the azure, Lincolnshire sky. A quick dash to the car park where we watched a mouth-opening display of aerobatics that would have put the average air display to shame. Brilliant times 1000!

We jumped into the car and

drove - carefully but at speed - to the airfield where kindred loonies stood, binoculars deployed and waiting for the aircraft to return. It did and taxied passed the admiring group; they waved and, you guessed it, the pilot, who was clearly visible grinning his teeth off, waved back. Hey, he's family so it's natural to be chuffed! I wondered if this was history (certainly my boyhood) repeating it's self. Afterall we were in Lincolnshire.

600 Plus Churches

Lincolnshire seems to be littered with Satanic Mills. We've been to most of those in Lincolnshire which are looked after by the Churches Conservation Trust and more as we passed them on our travels.

It makes me realise how much we, today, have forgotten all the personal effort and suffering that brought about what we now regard as our 'right'. One place has a human history that dates back to pre-Roman settlement and, there in that one building and it's surroundings, you can still see the various developments of the habitation. That is in a small village; not a 'historic' town. Just ordinary folk doing their 'thing'; nothing has really changed ... we only think it has.

More to come ...

Oh, Oh, Oh Noah, Didn't It ....

Yes it's, you guessed, raining! Again! So it'll have to be brollies, wellies and raincoats to the strains of, "Singing in the rain. What at glorious feeling, I'm soaked to the skin. ...." (Whilst tap dancing around a street light and splashing about in the garbage clogged drains.)

Oh! The pleasure of a vivid imagination ....

Probability or Just Plain Spooky

Out on the crags on Sunday; blustery but sunny. A liitle part of Stanage was all activity. A film crew had set up, with the rangers help, ready film an advertisement for some supermarket. The actor involved was Richard Hammond with a bevy of climbers and a stand-in to enable the "shots". I took the opportunity to "shoot" some of the action. Give the number of people involved it also provided ample opportunity to "chat".

Everything seem to be going well until the location manager asked me to stop filmimg and go away. Give that the location was on Public land (owened by the Park who, as you'll appreciate, are themselves owned by and managed for the "public" - a point they, the Park Authorities sometime forget. I, using my well known charm, informed the fellow that he had no authority and suggested we talk the situation over with the Park odfficers who were inattendance. I think it came as a bit of a shock when he realised that the officers were friends of mine. Things were "sorted", as the Brits say. The problem was that the Artistic Director was worried that I was a reporter from the local rag or TV. She, Margaret, and I chatted about steeling other "artist" ideas and both agreed that we had both been unnecessarily concerned. All's well that ends well ...

Richard Hammond spent most of the day waiting to "act" - very boring. He and I had an interesting chat. I liked the man; to me he seems a genuine, unassuming fellow, both interesting to talk to and in no way a posturing TV personality. I liked him even more when I he told me that he flew helos!

There I was standing looking out over the valley when I heard, "Malcolm is that relly you?" My God it was Ken Robinson! Last time I saw him was several years ago in Australia. No only that we worked for the same Circus Department and I had retired 12 years ago. He left after a quick natter and I turn to talk to the still photographer of the crew.

It was then that I heard the stunt double say he was a caver. "Do you know Tony Waltham?", I asked.

"Yes. He's a goodmate of mine. Why?"

I explained that Tony had been one of my tutors at uni and I that had been trying to contact him for old-times-sake. We exchanged emails.

I resumed looking out over the valley; Hammond was laying on a rock snoozing more or less at my feet. I noticed two people sitting on rocks next to the sleeping talent; they were munching on sandwiches oblivious to their surroundings. It was then I realised who they were. CC and Frank! They have a home in Perth and CC is a Prof. at the university in Sheffield; we met some years ago, when we exchanged emails, as you do, but, as often the case, never got together - until now. A third coincidence seems a bit spooky to me.

The filming finished and having missed the bus back to Sheffield, I walked down to my friends cottage. What a day!

Are Sheep Really Closet Goths?

Into the Tardis; which looks remarkable like a 272 bus to me, and we're transported to another astral dimension. The Hill Farm. Dogs literally straining on their leads and shepherds crook at the slope, we strode forth across the fells (that's moors to Yorkshire Folk) in search of this years 7 month old lambs. The flock of about 100 little fluffy devils was munching it's way on verdant grass oblivious of the delight in store; a visit to the ear piercing studio.

Let me explain. The lambs have be separated from their mum - arr, poor things - a few days ago. The boys having been promoted to the ranks of castrati - ouch! - some time earlier. Now it was time to separate the sexes. Not that they would start breeding like rabbits, what with them being sheep and some of them being foresaid castrati - my knees are weak even thinking about it. No, it's the difference between a career in the Chop and Roast Leg business and a lifetime of pleasure as a mummy of Randy The Ram's offspring. Incidently, the maternal career also ends in at bottom end of the Chop and Roat Leg department.

You can imagine that it's a bit tedious for a farmer to have to up-end individuals to see who's who, which is what and what's missing. The solution is simple; ear tag. Two blue for a girl and one green for a boy.

The dogs did a wonderful job gathering the flock and we drove the woolies across the field into the farm yard. Into the pens and let the ear peirceing begin!

The boys and girls ended up both separated into different fields and proudly boasting of their new decorations; "Barr, I'm a New Age Goth. Yeh, their plastic and all the rage at the slaughter house."

We enlighten beings gathered ourselves back to the cottage. Kettle on. Tea served. Toasting a job well done. "By gum, the weather were grand and them dogs got into them woolies like they were born to it. Mecks yer glad to be alive and no mistake!" What's fo dinner? Why, roast lamb with mint sauce. What else?

Lord N Lady Dusting

We were 272'd to the Peaks again and met up with our friends; our sacks filled with a swag of goodies for a lunch to be had on the terraced roof of North Lees Hall no less. Plans were twarted by the weather; rain in torrents. Donning our dust coats and aprons we set about "doing" for the in-comming guests. Dusting here, polishing there - have you every brushed a spiral staircase? No? Well it's an experience well worth the effort - not! All dusted and done we set up court in one of the kitchens for the repast. Excellent!

The hall is "famous" for Bronte associations and thus several films. To me it's a great example of "tatty kitsch"; a place for would be's to holiday and cheap at up to 1000 GB clams a week. Snot on the bankcard pseuo-history. And ... a great example of a hole-in-the-cheque-book project. You can hire one of two appartments for a holiday from the Vivat Trust.

The location is stunning and probably my favourite area in the UK; should be because I've been coming here for over 40 years.

Lunch over, we walked to our friends cottage and spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in a sunlit garden, chatting, drinking Rosie and playing with the three sheepdogs. "E, it were reet gradely and no mistake Mr Heathcliff!"

City of Lights and All That

After a week of high temperatures in Paris we are back in rainy Sheffield. We were shell, should that be travel, shocked after a seamless journey from Bastille to our flat; metro, flight (Bmibaby) and two buses. Leaving at 5.30 am and sitting down to a cupper at 1 pm; all a bit disorienting!

How was Paris? Hot, busy and expensive! Worst of all I managed to cop a heavy head cold. No not Swine Fue, although the Brits seem to be all a-panic about it and are dishing out Tammi Flu like lollies.

We had stayed at the hotel in Bastille before - the Baudelaire Bastille. This time the room was on the four floor and there is no lift; who needs to go to the gym? Clean, inexpensive and well located - just what we like. Feeding ourselves from the local Monoprix supermarket keeps the body parts moving as well as defeating the rip-off merchants in the resturants. We had the delight of the most expensive cups of tea with lemon - 12 euros - at some snotty place somewhere along our wanderings.

All very entertaining; lots seen and enjoyed.

A day trip to Riems by train was excellent. The cathedral is magnificant.

When I've collected my wits I'll tell you more ...

Wheeling in The Summer

To add a little "excitement" to the summer holidays the Sheffield Council gave permission for a Ferris Wheel to be constructed in the centre of town. Some love it. It's looks a bit odd in all honesty. No doubt it will bring some cash into the tills which is the whole point of the venture. Me? You can take it down ASAP 'cos it just looks crap!