All entries for July 2006
July 31, 2006
If blogs are meant to be a topical commentary on the life of the blogger and the world as a whole then I'm afraid this entry fails as the events described happened three weeks ago and while quite good they weren't earth shatteringly exciting. Nor are they particularly well related on this blog. In fact the only reason I'm posting this at all is because of the cool photo.
Many of my friends (well three in fact) wanted to go the Blessington Carriage for some 69p shots on Sunday night but I was reluctant because I was driving. The Bless is quite a smoky pub which i tolerate when I'm drinking because it has atmosphere, but when I'm not drinking i'd much rather go somewhere where I can hear my friends and where my lungs don't sustain too much damage. Consequently I suggested a road trip to Kirk Ireton to sit in the pub for a bit after a nice walk up 'the mountain', a hill that I've never been to but Caroline Northall runs up it and says its great. The pub at Kirk Ireton is very nice, apparently the landlady is so determinedly traditional that she kept trading in shillings well after they were no longer legal tender. We were kept in the pub for longer than we wanted to be because of a violent thunderstorm and when we finally got out it was dark so we drove north of Brassington and to a most excellent hill where we took the following photo.
As I said at the start it's really not that exciting a story but I hope the photo justifies the entry.
July 28, 2006
I was standing at the bar when a wise old man approached me wearing a thick robe and a dusty pair of sandals. I could tell he was wise because he looked like Obi–Wan Kenobi. It has often been said that all great fictional characters have a serious flaw, and when confronted with the image of him sipping casually at a Bacardi Breezer the reader may observe that this man is no exception. The crowd at the bar went quiet as the man (let us call him Jebediah) spoke out “Kempez”, it was as if he were speaking for all of them. “Why is it that you choose to be a park ranger? Is it for the money, the women, the fast cars, a sense of duty to your country, or is it for some cause altogether more noble?” Right then on the breeze came a whiff of sea air, and with it the thought that in Caesar’s year, in Calabria perhaps or on the cliff at Syracuse, some other park ranger, quite differently dressed, heard the same question and answered with the same sentiments as me.
“Friend”, I replied, “you have listed many of the delights of being a park ranger. When I cruise the little electric cars to the shed where they’re kept, freshly endowed with a months pay and to the adoring gazes of the nubile single mothers, I am proud of the service that I am doing to my park and to my country. But that is not the reason I do the job.” I stop and sip at my half pint of shandy (I hate being designated driver), pausing partly for dramatic effect and partly to gaze further into the depths of Jebediah’s eyes. “When I was a little boy I used to go canoeing on the lake. Sometimes I would paddle so hard that I could not paddle any more, and I’d sit stranded far from the shore. On those occasions a man with a hat would put on a green pair of waders and come out to pull me to safety. These days I am that man with the hat, that bastion of safety in the dangerous world of Markeaton Park canoe lake. Why do I do the job? It’s because the children need me.” Jebediah is clearly satisfied with the answer, he sits back for a few seconds contemplation before disappearing into the night, and I am alone in the crowd once more.
A free go on the bouncy castle for anyone who can spot the passage I stole from a famous play and tell me the play.
July 26, 2006
Well for a while it was looking like my summer was going to be entirely devoid of exciting adventures but now Caroline has agreed to go somewhere fun with me in September which will be excellent. The only real decision is where to go, and being a Guardian reading liberal i've been checking their travel pages for recommendations of last minute holidays. My favourites options were going somewhere like Dubrovnic for a mish mash of culture and beach, a very cheap offer of going to Rhodes for just £139 each including flights, transfers and accomodation, or this:
7 nights in Morocco: £150
This price is for accommodation in a luxury tent at the Jardin d'Issil campsite 10 miles south of Marrakech. The tents are decorated with coloured silks and huge floor cushions and most contain a queen sized bed, air conditioning and en suite bathrooms. The site has a shared pool which is surrounded by Berber tents . Price is based on two sharing throughout July or August. Excludes flights.
Morocco sounds a bit crazy but would be very exciting and certainly wouldn't be my typical type of holiday, I'm sure we could get twin beds instead of queen size, anyway I'm waiting to find out what Caroline's budget is and what she thinks of my ideas before we make a decision. Does anybody else have any good holiday destinations.
P.S. This is Caroline
July 25, 2006
I got back on Friday from a week in Cornwall, it was far quieter this year than the previous four as there were only five of us, Me, Bridget, Hannah, Kady and Elin. However it was really good, there was a lot of going for walks and then lazing in the sunshine. I also did a fair amount of drinking port and even went skinnydipping twice to nurture my hippy side. On the walk to Mevagissey I saw this sign.
Now I would say the problem for the car driver is that he's driven his car off cliff, the waves really seem to be the least of his troubles.
July 09, 2006
July 01, 2006
Well as of yesterday we no longer rent 10 Charter Avenue, and we've all gone back to our various parts of the country. Cleaning the kitchen was an absolute mission, Ollie did nearly all of it but the hour i spent on the oven was extremely unpleasant. Adrian is graduating this summer and the Game Cube has gone and isn't coming back so there'll be no more International Superstar Soccer. Anyway, I'm back in Derby now and last night Bridget, Forest, Martin, Sam and I drank port and played the piano and listened to Tom Waits, it was awesome. I think i'll start at the park on Monday and i'm sure it's gonna be far less exciting than i've been claiming and they won't let me drive the train. I'm concerned about the fact that this entry is very fragmented and seems to have no overriding theme, perhaps this is evidence that one's brain very rapidly deteriorates when one suddenly stops doing maths. Tomorrow my friend Ruth goes to China and she's gonna have crazy fun. Ruth has the unusual distinction of being the only one of my friends who is capable of licking their own elbow.