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Glastonwick 07

This weekend over 400 music and ale fans gathered each day for the 12th incarnation of the Glastonwick festival. Run by my friends Attila (Music) Alex (Beer) and Matt (Brewery) we invaded a new venue, Coombes Farm, just North of Shoreham, for three days of real ale and music. It was a wonderful new venue, and we enjoyed ourselves very much. 

The festival was originally held at The Barn Community Centre in Southwick, but sadly due to small minded politics from the venue we were obliged to move on and leave the twin set and pearl brigade behind. (A cheap copy has since been reinstated.) We then moved to Shoreham Airport where we have been in limbo ever since. Now we are back at our best venue yet and this has enabled us to offer camping for the first time.

  Drinking Cider can seriously damage your health!

With the help and support of the venue we think we now have a huge potential to take the festival forward in forthcoming years. A lot of time and effort has been put in by support staff planning transport to the venue and recruiting staff to work, employing security, booking the bands and of course arranging 66 beers from breweries throughout the country. Headliners were Neck on Friday (Irish style Punk Folk). The King Blues on Saturday, (Ska meets Reggae meets Latino) who bought the house down. I understand they have just signed with a major label and you will hear of them again soon I am sure. John Otway was the star of the show Sunday and bought his usual loyal eccentric following.

The weather was showery, but did not put anyone off. certainly from where I was all had a superb time and are looking forward to next year, dates to be announced soon. 

Finally does anyone know how the sheep found by Hove dog track on Monday morning got there! Come on someone!!!! 

  Backstage taking a rest!

 

Wrap Up!

We are now back in the UK after yet again another horrendous flight courtesy of Royal Air Maroc. This time it would appear the in cabin ventilation was faulty, and the three hour flight was undertaken at a heat which would have done a sauna proud. No water was provided by by hopeless, uncaring, ineffective staff. So much for paying a little extra and going on a scheduled service. Easyjet are altogether a much better airline.

However the baggage did well, as did Ros packing it all up, several large lighting fittings, a table and a large number of collectibles from the fixed price market in the Kasbah. Ros bought the largest shopping bag we could get hold of and carefully wrapped up our booty in our used laundry. (Eases our way through customs) We were however fortunate enough to find a wrapping machine at the airport and repackage the said bag, which got home safely with all our stuff in tact. I wish I had now bought the lantern I had my eyes on.

Other than shopping our last day was made by a wonderful carriage ride around the city. We assumed our $40 hire fee for the full tour would be for a one hour quick tour. The driver spent the whole morning taking us around, reaching places we did not think we would have the time for such us the tanneries, and the Gardens. Ros practiced her French and got to know the driver well. We tipped him $15 at the end and he was visibly delighted. Wonderful value. Ros and I also undertook the Hamman in the Riad, thats the Moroccan bathing experience to you and me, a very physical scrubbing down, with lots of super heated water thrown all over you. Think I will stick to the massage next time.

We went local for our last meal, still in the square but not in a tourist establishment. The food was just as good at a small fraction of the price of the western restaurants, though of course there was no alcohol. 

We loved our Riad, which provided a lovely and comfortable respite from the heat of the City, and were sorry to leave. We wished we had had the time to go onto Essaouira, but despite its aggravating begging we enjoyed Morocco, but thought Marrakech was overrated as a destination, and could not understand the desire to move there. (A large number of foreigner targeted residences are being built outside the City) Much better as a destination for a two or even three center holiday.

The Riad can be visited at www.lescigognes.com and is highly recommended. 

  Inside the Riad (Left). Storks on roof opposite (Below)  

 

In search of Beer and Idiots

Nightlife here has been a disappointment. Ok the Jemaa teems with activity at night but it is mostly cheap snack bars, with the occsional side show, get a camera out and you are descended upon from all sides from people claiming to be associated to the subject of your photo, and demanding 100 drm  ($12) for the privilege. It becomes very annoying. 

The souks take on another aspect at night, and are fun and very colourful. In the cool of the evening I barter better, and without Ros in tow pull some good bargains. (She hasn't quite got the art yet!) One trader offering 'Asda prices' from his stall.

 

Beer drinking is regarded as being disreputable, and the very few beer dens around can be difficult to find. I have settled for a little club around the corner from the Riad. Pleasant enough with a good singer and guitar player working the same set each night in French. Expensive again but any port hey!

Ros who did real Africa in fine style last year is very much looking the part, and has already dismissed local attentions several times by the time we met up last night. Apparently the Berbers have a thing for a fuller figure, one trader amusingly wanted a deal. Not much demand for camels back here though.

We had dinner in the Riad tonight. We paid for a cooking lesson in the kitchen helping chef prepare a nice Cous Cous, Ros recording the details on paper whilst I got stuck in with both hands. So there is a recipe for home.  

 

To Market to Market!

Up bright and early the next morning for a trip to the Ourika valley and Setti Fatima. A full day trip with a private driver who knew his stuff, non more so than by taking us to the local Berber market, a weekly event which brings traders from all around the local valleys on donkeys and whatever else is available to carry the goods. There is no nod to tourism here, this is the real deal, and as such we were the only foreigners around and were not bothered by the market dealers who went about their business as usual. Local specialty of the meat market were sheeps heads, I note the cooking instructions make it very clear to shake the head hard to make sure that any maggots that might be tucked away inside the ears and mouth fall out. Hmm Veggie Cous Cous tonight then.

  The car park

A pre prepared picnic lunch in a Fortnum and Masons Hamper (Must get one of these for the cricket!) put together by the hotel, together with rugs and cushions whisked out of the car by our driver gave us a lunchbreak to remember. The afternoon saw Ros fall in love with a rather lovely water feature which we are considering for our back garden. It would of course need to be shipped. We are on a cooling off think about it for now.

  The Dining Area

Dinner tonight in L'Abyssin, located half an hour outside the city. It is a collection of tents and sofas, set outside under the stars around another water feature, and bathed in candlelight. Food is in the French mode with music from such luminaries as the Gotan Project floating on the air. All very different from the normal places we eat in. Tres romantic!!  

All aboard the Marrakech Express

In celebration of our 25th Anniversary Ros and I booked a long weekend in Marrakech before all the medical dramas sprung forth. Thus we were very pleased to go ahead with the trip as scheduled. We travelled Atlas Blue on the way out as they had the better flight time, and sadly this turned out to be a big mistake and we were rammed into the smallest imaginable seat with negative leg room. I was in agony for three hours and Ros not much better.

After what seemed forever we finally arrived and met our driver for the short transfer to our Riad. We had four nights booked at Dar Les Cigognes, in the Medina just a 15 minute walk to the Jemaa El Fna, the centre of all the action. Our arrival at the hotel was greeted by mint tea and cooling towels, and we were soon in a position to relax.

Our room (the Safi) was imaginatively decorated, with a huge bed, and the bathroom contained a super sized bath which was larger than some hotel pools I have swam in. The room was painted in soothing greens, though being in an internal courtyard did not offer much light. A curiosity was the lack of any locks, though a safe was provided for passports and cash etc. The furnishings were very traditional (each room is supplied and decorated by a different designer)  There are no TVs or minibars etc. Just peace.

The manager was able to secure us a table at the very popular Marrakchi Restaurant with a view over the square, and our first night was spent discovering traditional Moroccan Tajines and the local wine (good) in a candlelit portal to another world. The effect completed by some vigorous local belly dancers.

 

 

 

   

Climbing back!

I was advised a few weeks ago to watch out for a touch of depression post treatment, and not being prone to such things thought myself pretty immune. However post the treatment it is certainly true that I have become listless, which is one thing, but when the kids are involved it becomes noticed. I was out for a family meal this week and certainly wasn't the life and soul of the party, and that's putting it mildly.

Drastic action required then! Thus I decided to find my way to Gelsenkirchen for a long weekend to watch the end of the Bundesliga (German football) season. I have long been a distant admirer of FC Schalke 04, and have watched with alarm as their 7 point lead at the top of the table has been eroded. They have not won the league for 49 years, and are one of the most popular teams in Germany. I managed to track down a ticket at a rather inflated price and was present as once again it all ended in tears. We have had to finish second after being piped at the post by Stuttgart, having done ourselves no favours in the last few weeks by losing at both Bochum and 'The Ticks' (Dortmund, the local rivals.)

With the street parties all booked weeks ago I was imagining it was going to be a rather morbid evening, but on walking into the Hibernia (the only brewhouse in Gelsenkirchen) found 'I Don't Feel Like Dancing' by the Scissor Sisters blasting away at full volume, and soon everyone was up and dancing. Next year then.

  Schalke Nordkurve

I spent the rest of the evening 45 minutes away in Dusseldorf, which is a very much a party city with stag and hen groups from all over Germany on the loose, and some really fine bars and restaurants to choose from. By the end of Saturday night not only was the disappointment of the day being forgotten, but I also felt my old self returning. It was a really good evening and I am glad I made the effort.

Having felt in a kind of protective lethargic bubble in recent weeks, perhaps the time has come to get out in the real world again.

 

  

All quiet on the Western Front

Back from a very rainy caravan park. In all honesty only two days were seriously effected by the rain, and I was able to get out and about during the rest. The week was a total tonic and finished far too soon. I was based in West Wittering, which was very quiet with just one restaurant, two very useful shops, a genuine loony (who used to greet each bus passenger personally when they climbed on), and an oddly high quality butcher (Do you sell game? Let me know what you want Sir and I can get it in 24 hours!! Now thats what I call fresh.) . The one pub has a smart dining area and a not so smart sports bar, not the village local I was expecting. East Wittering is a rather ugly village, ruined by unimaginative 60's style flats all over the place but does have some decent food shops. More to do, but lacking in atmosphere. I preferred the P and Q of the west village. The site had no facilities which meant it was perfectly quiet, I liked that.

Ros came over on the last night and we found a lovely village local (the Lamb) two miles up the road where we were treated to an array of really nice complimentary bar snacks, by a number of over enthusiastic locals.

I did a trip to Emsworth one evening to check on their pubs (wonderful) and finished with a very fine curry. Then spent 10 minutes in driving rain waiting for the last bus home. Yak! My walks along the beach were entertained by a full film crew in action, apparently filming Ewan Mc Gregors' new blockbuster Incediary. 

It was a lovely area and I wish I could afford to site a van there full time. 

 

Sunset over the Spinnaker Tower 

See my new gallery Out and About for images of the lovely Witterings! 

 

Must be my fault then!

Well its off to the Witterings on Sunday, and I can't but fail to notice the weather forecast. thus when the rain and winds arrive Sunday its my stupid fault for booking a UK break on a bank holiday. The cags and boots are packed and a load of food set aside. I am still looking forward to it and it will be test to see if I like the caravan life, as I may consider investing in one as a holiday home in later years. Lets see what happens.

All treatments are now finished and it is predicted that the few symptoms I have post treatment will increase for a couple of weeks and then die down. It feels odd now being post radiotherapy. During treatment there was a set order to life and I felt secure in the hands of the hospital. I am now back out in the big wide world waiting to see how the tumor responds to the treatment and I feel a little less secure. I am sure I will adjust with time.

Will update on my return

Captain Corelli Rides Again!

Just three treatments to go! I am now feeling mild side effects, but nothing that has caused concern. I will still be grateful to reach an ending (for now!) and kick back for a while. I have a consultants meeting later this week to discuss how we will monitor the outcome. I imagine we will be closely reviewing for at least a couple of years, and we will then be able to gauge the outcome.

 

On a lighter note I am considering mandolin lessons after having contacted a teacher via the internet, it will be a new direction for me after guitar lessons fell by the wayside due to cost and the inability to convert to Dobro playing as I could not find anyone to take that direction forward. I will give it a try and see what happens now I have some spare time.

 

Our office had their staff do this week. Based loosely on the Oscars ceremony, annual awards are handed out and nominations given. (I actually got a nomination last year, but was unable to go, Yes our department was the only one working that night!) It is a very well planned do, and it does make us feel special. The Champagne flowed and as this was the first time I had seen some of my colleagues for a couple of months we were able to catch up. Some surprises though, some of my more regular colleagues seemed to shy away, not quite knowing what to say, whilst others whom I hardly know made a real fuss.

 

I had to leave at midnight as I get very tired late into the evenings and am sure I missed a lot of the fun. Maybe we should have awards for some of the schangens that usually take place later if the first event was anything to go by.

 

Onwards and upwards, despite better judgement I found my way to Swansea the next day to watch the Albion go down 2-1 at their impressive new ground. I was able to meet up with a Welsh friend who is also a devoted Albion fan. (Oddly Ros met him and his charming wife on her recent African expedition. Thus proving poor Ros cannot get away from the Albion even in the middle of the Serengeti.) It did also mean I had to give up the Welsh chants during the game. Actually we seem to have a lot of fans in Wales, having assisted Wrexham with their problems.

 

A rather drunken trip home, (though sadly not for me!) Ably assisted by some Swindon Town fans, who having been greeted immediately by a chorus of “There’s only one Tommy Mooney” (An old Swindon Town centre forward) were led to a chant of “Hit the Post, Hit the Post, Hit the Post” Which we were chanting at him during his vital penalty shot against us three years ago in the play offs. He duly did just that and sent us on our way to the final!

 

Back into London in time to just miss last orders in the Curry house I had been aiming for, leaving me at the mercy of Weathspoons late night menu. I was at that point fit to curl up for the night, and the last two hours home were shall we say excessive.

Poetry site has begun!

I have now started adding work to my poetry site. Not from me you will relieved to know. I am trying to persuade Ros to start writing again. There is a work in progress. Some of her oldies will be up shortly. Go to my pages to view.