GOTEBORG

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Touched down in Goteborg on Wednesday night in the company of my very good friend Andy Richardson who missed the summer trip and didn't want to miss out on it this year. We flew out while super Spurs were up against Inter Milan in Italy. When we touched down, the first text on my phoe was Trish with the bad news of a 3-0 scoreline to the Italians after just half an hour with Gomez red carded. Merlin collected us as he always can be relied upon to do. We were soon at Karlsons Garage having a couple of pints. No one wanted to come out to play however and we drank alone.

The next day dawned, cold, bright and clear skied. We spent the early part of it wondering about how Gareth Bale's late but significant at the San Siro that nearly saved the match, looked. We later saw it on You Tube after we spent a really pleasant day touring the city and having a couple of beers in Sweden's oldest beer hall 7:an in the middle of Goteborg.

We went out to Andy's favourite resteraunt Gyllna Prague in the evening to consume yet another plate of panerad ost. Bloody expensive but bloody nice. We were joined there by Anna, Annika Rustan and Alan. A good night was had by all.

WHAT A WEEKEND !

I want to start this week's blog by saying a very big thanks to my very good friend mr Rustan Lefin. Although he gave me the real bad news this week that he would not be coming skiing next winter, he did, some time ago invite me to become a member of the SPOTIFY community. Of course, being me, I never got round to it and he had to send me a second invite. And of course I didn't get round to that either. So on Thursday I was doing a bit of de cluttering in my email box and I found that old invitation. So I downloaded SPOTIFY. very soon I was shelling out the £9.99 monthly membership fee to access the 320kbs downloads to improve the already good sound quality.

The trouble is with modern life that there seems to be so little time to access and so discover new music. A thirst I have always had as I soon become bored with most stuff I get into unless it really is of great, enduring quality. So SPOTIFY seves up a constant supply of new music tailored to your taste. For example, I wanted to see how much BRAND X stuff they had. Quite a lot as it happened but nothing I had not heard. So I clicked on the 'related artists' tab. WOW. Lots of bands playing BRAND X type music. Rather than labour through all the new stuff I have been listening to,(if you are interested that is) have a look at the list on the right of the blog for the artists spilling forth and give them a listen.

So, a good piece of work on Thursday was followed on Friday by an invitation to The O'Donnell House for dinner. Of course John 'I'll go anywhere for a free dinner' Darley was invited and of course forgot the afters he promised to bring last time. I brought the starters. Liam didn't appreciate our tin of John West smoked muscles. Trish and I did. Well, if you wait for O'Donnell to serve up the pre-main course snacket, you are likely to have a spider spin a web between your head and the wall!

O'Donnell served up an excellent feast of smoked haddock, veg and .......wait for it.........you guessed it Dofenoir spuds (again)

www.virtualfestivals.com/myfests/index.php?/...potatoes.

All the time of course he was lavishing us with gallons of assorted alcoholic beverages. Needless to say the guests did not make it out and were forced to stay overnight at O'Donnell's Bar and Grill. Trish and I were sensible and hit the hay at 2am. Darley was less so, 6am, reportedly and did not rise until 12 midday.

By that time we had been to Luton, I to buy an amp for the afternoon's gig and Trish to go and gawp at some famous soap star from Emmerdale (wife of Darley, Viv Hope) who was risking life and limb in the local shopping mall, opening a pound shop. I expect as soon as she cut the ribbon she was immediately trampled underfoot by the hordes of chavs Trish reported from her vantage point.

Following the early evening's acoustic gig, The Cheats hot footed it up to our local for the electric sets. This meant we started playing at 5.30 and finished at midnight and an explanation for the bedraggled look in the photo below, taken at the gig and featuring myself and one of Rustan's English mates I met in Goteborg a couple of years ago, now living in the next village. When I asked why the hell he moved back here from Sweden, he had no comment to make except for 'better beer'. Silly sod.

Anyway the weekend finished up with a bit of tree surgery on Sunday. Both the cherry blossoms in the front garden have been given a lobotomy in an attempt to stop their rapid yearly growth. It won't work. Tried it last year, they just laughed at my feeble attempts!

GOOD OLD JOHN WEST

This is really for Rustan who will be interested in the picture above. One new delicacy we had with our Swedish breakfast a coupe of weeks ago at Rustan's place was, to the disgust of JD, smoked mussels. Rustan recommends them with a tot of whisky on the high seas whilst out sailing. We had to make do with them at the table but they were none the less delicious. So when I was out shopping on Thursday I was wondering if Tesco's stocked them They did and I bought them. However, will they be as tasty as their Swedish counterpart? I can remember the saga of the anchovies. I'll let you know. We are off to dinner at Liam's tonight. 'I'll go anywhere for a free meal' JD is invited. I think I'll take them along

THE NEW POND

One of the major jobs we vowed to do over the summer holidays was to put in a new pond. The old one had sprung a leak and often overflowed during heavy rain and it was so big, the water had nowhere to go and flooded the garden. On many a stormy day had we been out there pumping water from the pond. It was time for a change.

The last time I attempted this job was with my very good friend Goran. When he visited last (see below) he observed the old pond was on it's last legs and I could smell the fear as he thought that once again he was going to get roped in to help. (or was the smell of fear actually the stinky pond itself?) Anyway we resolved to replace the not so indestructable liner with a moulded plastic one, much smaller allowing Trish to get stuck into a bit of landscaping. This would mean the VERY large hole where the old pond lay would have to be filled in around the new one. To achieve this fill we broke up hardcore and then filled the surrounding area with sand. (38 bags) and gravel (8 bags). This after removing the old liner with it's smelly, stagnant water.

Needless to say Trish got really stuck into the job while I served as her assistant. I got to do the breaking, cutting, chopping and the lifting. She got to do a bit of that as well and all the bits which I could never have done, the landscaping. We sawed down an invasive tree and removed a very stubborn stump. It took best part of three days. That TV programme Ground Force, where they transform a whole garden in the same amount of time just HAS to be bullshit. Anyway the finished result is really pucker. The fish and frogs who were disturbed like their new environment and our neighbours can once again be lulled to sleep with the sound of the water fountain gently trickling.

SWENGLAND LAND

A typical sight on the Goteborg archipelago

WHAT A GREAT WEEKEND! JD and I left for Goteborg last Wednesday evening, a rather smaller number of us that usual, due to work and Test Match commitments for Andy and Carl who will be coming out with me next October. As usual, the object of the trip is to meet our Swedish manager friends who take part in The Swengland League, a fantasy football competition which is in it's 15th year. We also present any awards won by Swedish managers during the previous season. Rustan is the Swedish Chairman and it is he who organises things.

Presentations usually take place on Saturday afternoon at a bar venue where live Premiership matches are being shown on TV.

Rustan tries Berra's Man U. Quiz.

Of course, the trip has plenty of time available to pursue other interests such as sight seeing and music.For those readers who have never been to Goteborg, it is a port on the west coast of Sweden. I lived there for three years and for the life of me I can't tell you why I ever returned for it is a place of calm and culture.

This time, JD and I visited the island of Branno in the Goteborg archipelago which featured recently in the Observer travel section as a great place to visit for the price of a bus ticket. This is true. For £2.45 you can take a tram to the coast and then catch a ferry out to any of the islands served. Some islands are bigger than others, all steeped in history and more importantly devoid of traffic bar mopeds and bicycles.

The two stooges on Branno

This followed a trip to the 'other side' of the Goteborg harbour, which is undergoing a serious regeneration, project reaching fruition in 2020. Again, unlike this god forsaken land, Sweden has a vision of the future which is designed to benefit the citizens and improve their quality of life.

Live music at Galliano

Much good food was eaten and much good drinks were drunk. As usual thanks to Rustan, Anders and Anna who fed us and entertained us. JD was even treated to a round of golf at the prestigious Hills golf course which he thoroughly enjoyed.

Anders gets a surprise award

Yet again Rustan wins the trophy and 100SKR for

the Chairman's Challenge

MERLIN VISITS

The last week has seen a visit from our very good friend Goran and his son Ossi. They came last Tuesday and leave today. It's amazing how much can be fitted into one week! Highlight of his time was last Saturday in London when we went to The Rose public house in London at the invitation of Lottie, Trish's daughter who works there. They had a big street party, which culminated in a drag race, not the kind associated with Santa Pod either!

Some of the costumes were simply breathtaking and as the wine and beer flowed, so did the skirts. Merlin was in his element here, having been nurtured in his early days at the Queens Head, appropriately named, in the Kings Road Chelsea. Determined to become involved in the action, Merlin soon found a friend he could team up with!

Goran and his new friend

THE GENERAL PUBLIC TRANSPORT

Help! I am among the general public again!

We left St. Erth at about midday yesterday. Me, I love traveling by public transport especially if it runs on rails. When I lived in Goteborg I often familiarised myself with the excellent tram system they have there by going the length and breadth of the network during the school holidays. I only just stopped short of collecting the names of the trams as they ground to a halt at intersecting stops. So on returning to this country I was keen to continue in this mode. However as we know, our public transport system leaves a lot to be desired. How delighted I was then to be transported effortlessly down to Cornwall aboard a smooth running Great Western Express. Trouble is, for all it's ease of use over the same journey by car, traveling by train (or bus) has one serious drawback; you are required to rub shoulders with the GP.

On the journey home, the opposite. Mum, a blond young mother with a London accent honed to perfection by being plonked in front of 'Eastenders' from a young age, her sister and grandma, found themselves in charge of another very active youngster. This time however, the mum was more interested in reading 'Celebgossip Weekly' or some other such mag and frequently told the little girl to 'sit down and be quiet'. This on a six hour journey!

So the joys of riding on public transport are not always positive but I think still preferable to the long car journey, cocooned in a metal cannister with only a sleeping passenger for company, or, as I have experienced only too frequently bored and badly behaved children.

So what of our two days down there at the End Of England? We both have really enjoyed it. For those that have been, a visit to Cornwall is like moving temporarily to another country so different is the life down there. True, the GP love to visit and St. Ives was full of them. But there was a really great atmosphere no matter where we went. Even on the very crowded beach yesterday where Fran and I were beginning to hyperventilate due to the proximity of beer belly, tattooed tit and her husband, it was easy to escape the hordes and find oneself in splendid isolation, after just a fifteen minute hike up the cliff face. Call me a snob if you want but when you live in The Home Counties the last thing you want is more of them when you go away.

Having said all of that, it is much preferable to the steaming heat of The Far East where you find yourself stepping over down and outs who look as if they will be truly out by the following day, as you make your way to the restaurant for your evening meal, preferable to the starkness and stone of Malta, or 'Basra' as Liam O'Donnell christened the view across the rooftops and the surly opportunistic rip-off culture that is slowly pervading the islands of The Caribbean and which will soon denude all of them of their individuality.

Our country it seems, still has a great deal to offer, it still has history and a culture which is the envy of many others, it still has cosiness which is as unique as the ales in Ade's fridge. What a pity then someone can't improve the overall 'smarts' of the population. Come on you lot, Eastenders isn't real, what is portrayed there isn't admirable and nothing for you to absorb and develop, TV isn't king and reality game shows are not real. Only Star Trek can manage that!