Films of the week (w/c28/11/09)

Well it's been a while since I reviewed any films or indeed anything. I will be watching Highlander 2:Renegade Cut in the next few days. To all those who remember the abomination that was Highlander 2 at the cinema it is supposed to be the film we should have seen. I am currently watching Series 2 of the Highlander TV series.

I have recently finished reading Stuart Maconie's Cider With Roadies. If you are interested in music history it is interesting. It is not as good as Pies & Prejudice but is much better than Adventures on the High Teas. That just didn't click for me.

So on with the films on Saturday there are 3 films each of which if they didn't have the competition would be film of the day. The Adventures of Robin Hood is Hollywood does English legend ye olde englishe waye. It is a fantastic romp and Basil Rathbone, Erroll Flynn and Claude Rains simply chew up the screen. Overlapping this gem is The Empire Strikes Back. This is by a considerable distance the best of the original three Star Wars films and by definition, therefore, the best of the six. It is dark and the Vadar and Yoda characters are fantastic. Late night on Virgin 1 is No Way Out. Gene Hackman acts Kevin Costner off the screen in what is one of Costner's best films. It is simply well written, well acted and a pacy thriller.

On Sunday yet again there are a clutch of interesting offerings. Channel 5 offers Firefox. Based on the Craig Thomas novel of the same name it is actually quite a good adaptation of the book. Unfortunately it was panned by just about everybody as one of Clint Eastwood's worst films. The dodgy Russian accents offered by pretty much the entire membership of Equity are a delight to behold. It is good fun if not a great movie. It is followed by The Green Mile. This is based on the Stephen King story. It is the director Frank Darabont's second King prison flick after The Shawshank Redemption. Coincidentally the stage play of that film is in trouble with a number of reviewers for putting a review of the film over it's theatrical offering which was not so praiseworthy apparently. I am not a big Tom Hanks fan but this is one of his better films. Other offerings are Sahara (Film 4) which is a very good action adventure offering. Lastly there is Enemy at the Gates. This isn't rated too highly in Radio Times but I think it is actually a very entertaining movie if at variance with actual history.

On Tuesday the undoubted film of the day is Flags of Our Fathers (Film 4) This is one of Clint Eastwood's 2 war films and is actually probably the slightly weaker of the two in my humble opinion. Nevertheless it is still a better film than most you will see. It tells the Iwo Jima tale from the American point of view. The outstanding performance in this film comes from Adam Beach who can also be seen in another fantastic film, Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee. The other film on Tuesday is The Blues Brothers. There isn't a plot as such it is merely a series of set pieces to showcase the fantastic music which is what the film is all about.

Wednesday brings the second of the Clint Eastwood war films, Letters From Iwo Jima. I think this is the best of the two. Ken Watanabe is truly magnificent but is there a film where he isn't, perhaps Batman Begins. Also on Wednesday there is First Blood. This is the first and, by some considerable distance, the best of the Rambo films. Stallone is excellent, despite evidence to the contrary (Stop Or My Mom Will Shoot), he can act given the right material (Rocky, Copland, Judge Dredd). The tension is ratcheted up in this film. Brian Dennehy is a fantastic foil and watch out for David Caruso of CSI Miami. If only the rest of the franchise could have been a patch on this one they would all be classics.

On Thursday there is one underrated offering and one guilty pleasure. The underrated offering is Black Widow. It is not normally one of my type of films and I certainly wouldn't go out of my way to see it. However, I ended up watching it one evening and was impressed with the offering. The guilty pleasure is Rat Race. It is by the Airplane team which means one of two things usually. A film will be either very very funny (Airplane, Naked Gun, Police Squad) or it will be very dodgy (Kentucky Fried Movie, Top Secret). There are gags in this film that you laugh at but your not sure why or even if you should be laughing but you can't help it.

We end the week with two films on Friday night. The first of these, The Jackal, shouldn't work and some still feel that it is heresy that it was ever made, but it is a great film that whilst showing a nod to its illustrious predecessor doesn't feel constrained by it. It takes what worked in the original but changes it slightly. Bruce Willis is absolutely fantastic as the title character, Sidney Poitier is fantastic as the FBI agent. The one thing that spoils this film is Richard Gere and the frankly ludicrous plot involving an ex-Basque terrorist. The second film is Downfall. This is about the last days in Hitler's bunker in Berlin. It is a film which was universally lauded particularly Bruno Ganz who portrays the German dictator. I found it a bit turgid and long winded for my taste. It might well be very good but I found it hard going.

Enjoy yourselves more to come in the next few days.

Evidence

Over the last couple of weeks I have come across people who apparently seem to have ignored what evidence actually is. The first offender was a member of Friends of the Earth who uses the governmental interpretation of the word. The debate was with this green type and a farmer and it was about whether or not GM foods are a good thing or not. The governmental interpretation of evidence is that there is only evidence if it has come through research and scientific investigation. Whilst this is to an extent true, it ignores the fact that anecdotal evidence is still evidence and this green advocate was dismissing the farmer's own experiences and knowledge because they didn't fit her argument.

An academic once criticised part of one of my best presentations because some information came from personal knowledge and experience rather than from the groves of academe.

Almost the next day there was a debate about the Kelly Report into MPs expenses when it was leaked that allowances would be lost and spouses not allowed to be employed. The MP's complaint was that Kelly had clearly not listened to the evidence he had given because he had reached a different conclusion to the one he wanted, Politicians are forever doing this. The current furore over scientific advisers is also part of this. The evidence would seem to support the scientist's conclusions it is just that what he said was ludicrous but accurate.

I don't mind people using evidence to support their argument, it is what I have trained to do for 4 years, what I do object to is people denying that contrary evidence exists or stating that unless evidence is gathered from a scientific research program it is invalid. Evidence simply is. You may vary the weight you give to different types of evidence but evidence is evidence and to deny this simple fact is irritating and pointless.

Politicians

I am sick to the back teeth with MPs and those who believe that they are entitled to money. In practice there is little difference between the two groups except that the MPs have marginally better dress sense.

I have today heard one MP (Bill Etherington somewhere in Sunderland) try and justify the purchase of a razor on expenses. A razor is not essential to the correct performance of his duties as an MP and which world is he living in if he thinks that the public would think otherwise. We have Shahid Malik trying to justify the purchase of a Plasma TV at the public expense and other MPs claiming curtains, cushions etc. The other issue is that they never go to Primark to buy these things and the public never get the benefit of their largesse.

Until this country gets away from responding to people who start sentences with "Worrit is right..." with large sums of money from the public purse it is going only one way and that is right down the toilet.

Ireland Week 1

Saturday 1st August

Dawn broke on a dull and cloudy morning. This was going to be a long day. We set off and I nearly missed the petrol station 10 yards away from the Travelodge. After filling up I went in to pay and chatted to the attendant and we compared weather anecdotes. The trip to Cairnryan was enhanced by the fact that sun broke through the clouds to enliven one of the best driving roads I have ever seen. Note to self if I ever take this route again then will have to check out the Rhins of Galloway at Cairnryan. We arrived about half eight and were ushered into the queue to await the ferry. Suddenly around the headland a ferry came into view and strangely my spirits soared a little. Unfortunately this was the ferry for Stranraer a few miles away. Not long after the ferry we were due to catch arrived.

Passengers were ushered back to their cars and engines started. It was not quite like a Le Mans start more like the Wacky Races. Which queue would get on first??? Tom seemed entirely underwhelmed by the whole experience. We were fourth on and made our way up to the passenger deck. I can remember when there would have been long queues of traffic going down to the ports but now the roads were virtually empty. Initially I sat facing the front but my stomach and inner ear quickly told me to sit with my back to the direction of travel. Even when stationery I could detect movement of the ship.

The ship set a fair old pace, much faster than the ferries of my youth which I swear had Charlton Heston and a crew of slaves manning oars at the bottom of the ship. Alison and the kids all lay down whilst I pondered anything to take my mind off the swaying of the ship. To an extent both strategies worked as nobody was sick. I was saved by a blast of cool air down a passage from the open deck. Also a note to to P&O if you are going to put Sudoku in your magazine at least have the decency to make sure they can be completed.

So after arrival at Larne stage two of the road trip began. Quickly I decided that some of the drivers in Northern Ireland were certifiable given some of the speeds they were clearly doing. Although they have ‘motorways’ they are barely adequate A roads in comparison to those in Great Britain. Even Glenshane Pass seemed to have lost something since I last passed along it. We made it to Derry having seen the town described as “London” and “Derry” depending on which section of the community you belonged to. Just as I saw a sign for Foyle Bridge which was a target destination for me Alison exclaimed that there was a Tesco. Fortunately they were on the same road so we pulled into Lisnagelvin Centre and did our shopping.

I rang dad to let them know we were in the neighbourhood and rapidly discovered that our cover had already been blown by somebody as everybody seemed to know a) we were coming and b) where we were staying. Shopping done we tried to make good our escape from the hellish nightmare of shopping on a Saturday. There were no signs for Foyle Bridge on exit and we ended up on a small estate by the UVF hall. I rapidly decided that a hasty retreat to the nearest main road was in order.

Having escaped the clutches of the Hun and no doubt certain doom we followed the main road and ended up at Craigavon Bridge. This then required me to use the force, my chosen method of finding my way in the world, to find the round to Bridge End. Miraculously despite the many changes to Derry since the last time I was able to make it out of the city on the right road.

Next we headed, unintentionally to Burt and so scared the living daylights out of a few car drivers as we effected a turn. I had to read the inner dial on the speedometer now that we were in the Republic. Eventually we found our way to Inch. I followed the sign for Inch Pier and then decided that I was going in completely the wrong direction so again created confusion for the locals and went back the way we came and pounced upon the first unsuspecting local for directions. He quickly ran back in to his house to seek reinforcements. I followed his directions and almost found myself in the Lough as we went along the Strand. We came to a fork in the road and again took the wrong turning. I again decided to go and harass a local man in his own house. He gave me the information I required so I let him live and I quickly effected my escape. I followed the signs for Binn Allt (Roads End). Within minutes we had found the cottage and were about to go to the wrong cottage when another local with an American accent decided to stop and interrogate us. I then went in search of our host for the trip.

The door was answered by her daughter who said that she would come down and let us in. we waited and then a red car appeared from the owner’s house and out stepped Terri who was bemused as to why her daughter had neglected to tell us that the keys were in the door. She gave us a guided tour and suggested some places to visit whilst we were here. For all her friendliness and the fact that Jenni decided to give her a huge hug all I wanted was to be left in peace for a little while.

The cottage was beautiful (www.donegalcottageholidays.com/rowan).

Alison decided to make an executive decision and refuse Tom his solitude on the trip and so the children were together in the same room. After unpacking everything Alison took the kids in search of the pebble beach which, according to the brochure was 300m away. Rather quickly they were back, saturated not because of the rain but because of the grass on the route down. A little later Tom and I went for another walk to Binn Allt.

After our return we decided to turn in for the night as we had a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.

Sunday 2nd August
The morning was glorious and Inch and the surrounding countryside were revealed in all their glory. The sun shimmered on Lough Swilly and the day was set fair. We set off for Killea at 8.45am hoping to make it in time for 9.30 Mass. The route was relatively simple and apart from one slight detour which Tom managed to correct through his powers of observation we arrived and made our way into the back of church. I was still feeling a little on edge after all the travelling I had done in the last few weeks. My parents were sat at the back with Helen & Jack. I scanned the congregation but could not see anybody else I knew.

I crept in behind my parents only to be spotted by dad who always did have an annoying habit of turning round at exactly the wrong moment. The shock and awe tactics of Jenni took away the breath of the American contingent. Mass started at the usual Donegal speed even though the priest, who had once incensed me on a previous visit, could only manage a barely audible mumble. Jenni went into children’s liturgy and came out doing the offertory procession much to everybody’s surprise. I then noticed Margaret McDaid.

After mass there were hugs and handshakes with the rellies and then introductions to cousins and people of whom I had no idea of their existence 60 seconds previously. We then drove up to Nellie’s house and under instructions from Mum waited outside until their return from the shop, which is a fine old Irish tradition. You come straight out of Mass having condemned the most sinful aspects of human nature and then you go away and indulge them be it alcohol, cigarettes, polluting the environment or reading the News of the World.

Nellie looked on from her window at us wondering who we were and what we were doing and we were attracting attention from a couple of local dogs. This wait was to be the first of many today. We had tea and toast after all the introductions and eventually lunchtime came around. Just before lunch I had been out for a walk with Harry and Jack two of my uncles. Jenni continued to try and wow the relatives and Tom was just quiet.

Next to show up was Paul and then after he had gone we went for a walk prior to the expected arrival of the Ballybofey branch of the clan. Jenni discovered a Barbie castle in somebody’s garden and wanted to make a closer inspection of the property. Lee (Paul's son) went away and then Paul and Harry came back and then Seamus, Vonny and Charlene appeared and with the arrival of Paul and Phyllis as well as the return of Helen and Jack the house was, for a time, full and the centre of the universe. Conversations were taking place in the kitchen and the lounge and people drifted between venues.

This would have been the ideal opportunity to take photos but it didn’t seem appropriate and Serafina the cat didn’t seem interested. After a long day we returned to the island and the peace and tranquillity and watched the sun go down over Lough Swilly.

Monday 3rd August
The weather was dreek but it showed occasional flashes of calm and so we took the road up to Grianan. The mystery of whether or not the golf course at Burt still existed was solved – it doesn’t!!. We drove up and were instantly faced with a problem – where was the camera? Alison insisted that she hadn’t packed it and I said that I brought it down for packing. We had to use Tom’s camera and my mobile phone which was rendered useless by the weather. Later in the day we discovered that the digital camera had been in the bag all along. Not happy!!!!

The view as ever was stunning but soon we had to leave as we were expecting visitors about 3 o’clock. A phone call to dad gave us a time frame in which everything had to be done. Using the force (do they have something against clear directions??) to descend from Grianan we found Killea and went into Derry and parked in the Foyleside car park. We booked Tom’s photos in for development and then went in search of an eatery. Jenni was enthralled by the fountain in the Foyleside. We found Sizzlers but they would only take cash so off we went. Eventually we settled on Burger King. We then went in search of post boxes in order to post the two postcards which had been purchased that morning. We also found the Harbour Museum. Whilst the fact that they opened up the museum for us in their lunch time was very nice and very good customer service there wasn’t exactly a huge amount to see there. Tom enjoyed the exhibits if not the talking heads.

After our escape we headed back and ran into Paul and Phyllis in the Foyleside and agreed to meet up and go bowling or something. We then headed up to Killea where we walked into a crisis and previously agreed arrangements were altered. We took Dad over to the island and dropped Alison and Jenni off. We then went to Moville for a round of golf. It was not great and the fact Tom had never played before was a bit of a problem which made us late for picking mum up from Killea.

I won the game for the record.

Picked mum up and came out to the island for a late tea.

Tuesday 4th August

Best day so far according to Alison and the kids. Given that we had Grianan (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grianan_of_Aileach) and the Barbie castle to compete with this is some going. The day started early and we set off for Malin Head. This is the most northerly point in Ireland. We arrived at about 9 or half past and went up to the tower and Banba’s Crown. Camera was a bit hit and miss today will just have to see what happens when we get the photos on the laptop. We currently have three cameras in use.

We had been asked by Vonny “Why do you want to go there? There is nothing there.” Well there was the scenery. We had hit it on the perfect half hour as not long after we left the clouds and rain descended. Also there was The Old Curiosity Shop which we didn’t visit. It doubles as the tourist information office for the area. Who says the Irish are daft?

We then went to Malin and Culdaff. There was not much at Malin other than the fact it seemed to be a nice little village so we decided not to stop. At Culdaff I was beginning to wonder where the much vaunted beach was as it looked a mile or so inland on the maps. Then all of a sudden there was a sign for the beach but even then I remained unconvinced. Then all of a sudden we came upon one of the nicest beaches I have ever seen in my life. It was clean the breakers rolled in off the ocean and the children were overjoyed. Jenni, Tom & Alison took off shoes and socks and ran into the waves and played on the beach. Behind the beach was a play area which unfortunately we did not have either the time or weather to investigate further.

Next stop on our trip having avoided the rogue sheep in the morning on the way to Malin Head was Doagh Famine Village (http://www.doaghfaminevillage.com/). This is a guy who has diversified and made use of his family home and turned it into a museum and tour about the famine times. I have some reservations about such places and the book which Alison bought did seem a little overpriced but the entry fee got you a drink, soda bread and digestives. Jenni loved the waterfall in a part of the exhibition whilst Tom and I had fun in the safe house and also the Orange Lodge (probably the first and last time either of us will ever enter such a building).

Our landlady had invited us to an agricultural fair at Clonmany. On our way back we called in and whilst it is another nice place and clearly the festival was on, this agricultural fair must have either been using a cloaking device or it was at a venue known only to those who have entered some secret society as there was no sign of it at all. So it was home via Buncrana.

This morning I nearly killed a heron who had decided to eat its prey in the middle of the causeway connecting Inch to the mainland.

Wednesday 5th August
Today was a bastard of a day. Set off early for Dunlewey (there is no link here as I don't wish to encourage them) and Glenveagh(http://www.glenveaghnationalpark.ie/) . Letterkenny has changed beyond all recognition since I was there last (there are now a few more traffic lights!!). Arrived at Dunlewey at about 10 o’clock. The road was challenging but spectacular. Unfortunately the centre did not open until 10.30. So we waited around and eventually went in and were charged 17 euros for entry into part of the place and would have been charged more had we wanted to use any of the main features.

The farm featured a couple of scrawny donkeys , two indolent pigs (of the porcine variety not the staff!!) several stuffed animals and a few birds. I went round taunting each with words such as hoi sin sauce for the ducks.

Tom and Jenni both wanted to go on the adventure playground. Tom fell off a rope slide (unlike every other child who went on it) and went down as if he had been shot. He survived to spend the next hour moping around and behaving like a teenager. We eventually found some lakeside walks and went on one along the Poison Glen. We came back and decided to leave with a sensation that we had been ripped off. The Poison Glen (named after a mistranslation which caught on after some soldiers were poisoned nearby apparently) is beautiful but that is free.

We then headed off for Glenveagh National Park and Castle. It was all very well for what it was but I was already in a bad mood and this was worsened when Alison lost her hat and decided to go off into the gorse bushes on the side of a several hundred foot drop whilst she was in charge of Thomas. The castle is distinctive and on another day I might have been more receptive but not today. I had just had enough of walking and wanted to go home.

I have now managed to compile all the photos into one place. Well tomorrow is another day.

Thursday 6th August
This morning we went over to the genealogy centre at Ramelton. Mere mortals are not allowed to examine the records and so the researcher looked into the family for me. She came back after about half an hour and informed me that a lot of what I had been told was wrong. She offered me several bits of information and I selected the cheapest and what I believed were the most useful. I might get in touch again and do the research a bit at a time. You were left very much with a feeling of cross my palm with silver and I shall tell you everything.

We then headed down to Killea to go out to some family graves. Mum asked what I had found out and Aunt Helen also enquired. I was then informed that I had an uncle that nobody knew about.

We agreed to go up to Ballybofey on Tuesday and then after a brief lunch we went to St Johnston and Newtoncunningham. We went to see Mary. She seemed a bit tearful which is entirely understandable but Jenni made herself at home and gave out lots of hugs. Then we went down to Newton and found out more information in the churchyard there. I also went to look at the new church. I am spectacularly unimpressed as the old church was beautiful. This is the folly of the priest I mentioned earlier.

Then back to Nellie’s. By this time we had practically the entire clan other than the Dublin branch and Sinead. We said our goodbyes to Jack & Helen and back home in time for supper.

Updated the family tree in light of the new info.

Friday 7th August
Mum and dad’s 41st anniversary today. Got up and the local and national weather didn’t agree with each other. We decided to take the chance and go to the Giants Causeway and Dunluce Castle. The added benefit to the decision was that tomorrow is likely to be hellish up there and there is the small matter of the Apprentice Boys march in Derry to contend with.

We eventually found the Foyle Bridge today. It’s big enough so I am still not sure how we missed it the first time. The trip up to the Causeway was fantastic and Portrush is gorgeous. We arrived and were charged £6 to park. However, it was unclear whether or not the nearby Heritage Railway museum was cheaper. We then tried to find the route to the Causeway which was badly signposted IMHO.

Having found the route down, we trekked down along with several hundred other visitors. Numbers are up this year due to a lot of people holidaying at home. There were Americans, Poles, Australians, and they were just the ones we could identify. The Causeway was something of an anticlimax if truth be told. A couple of people we overheard suggested that it was all an elaborate hoax on the part of the Irish Tourist Board who were in league with NASA over the moon landings. Alison bumped into an American geologist who proceeded to explain the place to her. Despite the large signs saying don’t climb on black rocks many people ignored them. So it would appear that stupidity induced myopia is an international condition. Fortunately the conditions were relatively benign today.

We then climbed back up to the car for lunch and then headed off to Dunluce.

The contrast couldn’t have been greater. There were only a few tourists and everything was done on a much more relaxed scale. You felt that they wanted people to enjoy the place for what it was whereas at the Causeway you were left with the impression that they felt they had to justify the World Heritage Site status by charging for the air around the place.

At Dunluce there is a visitor centre with useful information in a variety of languages, an exhibition room with a scale model of the castle as it would have been in its heyday and a short film by the descendants of the people who built the place and who were clearly very proud of their little seaside getaway. People are able to wander about with only one warning – don’t climb on the walls. It is peaceful and tranquil (well it is if you don’t have Jenni with you!!). By contrast at the Causeway if you were gullible enough you could meet Finn Maccool and suffer a 12 minute “interactive audio visual experience” – AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!

Also at Dunluce there is a little shop and café run completely separately from the castle. Mum and dad are coming round this evening.

Week 2 will follow shortly as will death by PowerPoint. The photos here are just a few of some 350.

Travels with Jonathan Part 3 - The Emerald Isle

Well since I last posted we have been on holiday to Donegal. The trip was wonderful, although Alison did say that if I was enjoying it I should tell my face. In spite of what my face might have been implying I had a wonderful time. It was without a doubt the best holiday I have ever had and I have never felt so at ease.

Following a dreadful night in Dumfries at the Travelodge we set off on what looked like a grim day but were rewarded with fantastic roads and glorious weather en route to Cainryan. Now I am not a great traveller on ferries and the one thing that was missing from my memory were the long queues of traffic headed to or coming from the ports. Tom seemed entirely underwhelmed with his first sight of a ferry. The crossing was much better than I remembered from my youth. There were only a couple of moments that brought back those memories ( and nearly my breakfast).

The drive through Northern Ireland was also better than I recalled. We arrived in Derry and looked for signs for the Foyle Bridge. The first one we saw also led to a Tesco at Lisnagelvin where we could do our shopping. We left and all the signs for the bridge disappeared. We ended up driving around and stopping outside a UVF hall. Needless to say we didn't hang around. We crossed over the river on the Craigavon Bridge and then used the force to negotiate the city. Eventually we found the way out and then found Inch which was where the problems started.

In Ireland you don't necessarily go the way that common sense tells you you should. Inch proved this after taking the wrong turn immediately on getting to the island. We went down a single track and stopped outside a bemused person's house who ran back inside to seek reinforcements or perhaps a shotgun. We were apparently going in the right direction and caught our one and only glimpse of the castle. we then plunged down onto the strand and at the next junction accidentally took the right route but still felt the need to stop and harass a local couple in their own house. We eventually found our home for the next fortnight but took half an hour to find the owner to let us in.

That evening Tom and I went for a walk and I felt the peace and quiet and fresh air for the first time.

More to follow with pictures as well. We are now ready to bore people with a full screen slideshow of our holiday snaps.

Travels with Jonathan Part 2 - The frozen north

The weekend after attending the reunion in Mansfield I had to travel up to Dalgety Bay in Fife to drop my kids off at my parents for a week's holiday. The A1 was the chosen route and that was the last time I will willingly take that route north. The conditions were terrible and the road is just not fit for purpose. It wasn't helped by the fact that just into Scotland the road was flooded in 2 places and there were still idiots determined to do 100mph in any event.

On the Sunday due to the Forth Road Bridge being closed I had to take the Kincardine Bridge and travel down the M6 route. I did the journey in about an hour less than normal. Partly because I only had to stop when I needed to stop and partly because the traffic was fine until you got down to Lancaster. I stopped at Tebay, the much vaunted service station on the M6. On the same journey I had to stop at Bothwell near Glasgow, and on the return leg Birch and Bolton. Tebay southbound is better than the northbound at the moment largely because northbound there is a building site. But the point is that Tebay may well scalp you on the prices just like all the others but you resent paying the prices less because the surroundings and service are so much better than those provided by the big multiples.

One question that did puzzle me is why in hot sunny weather when common sense would dictate that women would wear strapless undergarments they insist on showing little or no fashion sense and show off every little item they are wearing straps and all.

Edinburgh does have something in common with Mansfield. Yes I know it sounds odd but it is true. Edinburgh for all its wonderful buildings and beautiful surroundings is a grimy city. If the city fathers took more time to clean the place up it would be an even bigger draw to tourists but just a couple of streets away from the Royal Mile the bin bags were piled high by the road side on a Saturday when the number of tourists is huge. The numbers were swollen by the gathering of the clans which boiled down to essentially, a lot of people dressed up in tartan.

Edinburgh is my favourite capital city of those I have visited and I could happily live there and probably go bankrupt in the shops.

Travels with Jonathan

I have in the last few weeks been doing a bit of travelling up and down the country observing places and people as I went. My first trip was to a school reunion in Mansfield. The reunion was something of a washout. I was the head boy of the school at which a teacher attacked and injured three children.

Mansfield was always something of a hole largely because its council refused to recognise that since it had lost its two main injuries (coal and textiles) the town was nothing more than a dormitory town for Nottingham. Most of my fellow students left Mansfield and have rarely returned since leaving for Huddersfield back in 1992 I have only been back about a dozen times. What shocked me about the place is that around my school it feels like somebody just let off a limited nuclear device. Most of the houses and shops around the school are empty or rather the old terraces are. The better houses seem to have remained largely unaffected.

Whilst in Mansfield I drove round some of my old houses and haunts to see what has happened. I didn't visit the Ladybrook estate. Our bungalow in Pleasley has remained largely unchanged from what I could see but the village in general has suffered the same problem located by my school. The police house where I grew up is now an industrial estate which is a terrible shame. The last house in Mansfield where I lived again hasn't changed much. The Nottingham Road end of town has remained fairly constant. The only bizarre change was the sudden appearance of a palm tree in my old front garden.

I had a round of golf at King George V on Berry Hill and rediscovered my enjoyment of the game. The peace and tranquility even though I hadn't hit a ball for about 5 years was great. The hotel where I stayed was functional and had a cat called Marmalade and the service was good as on Saturday they opened up the restaurant for me.

The town centre is stuck in a time warp though. The broken glass makes a scene reminiscent of Kristalnacht but without the poignancy. That is just the way Mansfield is. Those who care can't do anythign because those who don't care about anything shout loudest and everybody has to listen. The chavs queuing outside Greggs for their sausage rolls make the ones elsewhere in the country seem positively cosmopolitan. The interior of the Four Seasons Shopping Centre hasn't changed at all since I left all those years ago.

Another delight of the trip was the chance to go to St Phillips church again. Having attended some relatively humble establishments in recent years it was an oasis of calm in the storm that is life in Mansfield. The clergy may have changed but many of the congregation were there when I was a boy.It was great to speak to people I hadn't seen for years. The particular delights were to speak to my what would be now Y4/5 teacher and one of my headmasters.

Once Mansfield accepts what it is then change may come but if it doesn't then I foresee Mansfield breaking up into lots of small villages with a kind of separation between the areas people want to live and where those who have ambition live and those where the neanderthal indifferent residents currently reside.

More musings from my recent travels later