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!

ANOTHER CORNISH CRACKER

Today was another glorious day. The sun was shining and it was warm enough to find the five of us on the beach at Porthcurno with the rest of the general public. We tarried long enough to eat a picnic lunch before we were off on another Franhike across the cliffs to Logan's Rock where we were afforded a splendid view of the rugged granite coastline up to Lands End a mere two and a half miles away. I could not believe the colour of the water which rivaled any of the seas we had seen in either Malaysia, Malta or the Caribbean. To make things even better the temperature hovered at a completely manageable 25 degrees so much better than the intolerable heights of Kuala Lumpur last spring

One of Fran's photos


Not for Rustan

Is it The Caribbean?

As some readers might already know, 'Top Of The Hill' is the scene of a legendary story. Soon after moving in during this year's ferocious winter, Ade, probably the worst for wear one night, sloped into his bathroom. On auto pilot he reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste. Squeezing the tube, Ade supposed that the lack of paste issuing forth onto his brush was either; a, due to his inebriated and so weakened state, b, a blocked tube, c, lack of paste in the tube he thought to be new. However one option he failed to reckon with was the fact that the toothpaste was frozen! I would like readers to know that I have visited the scene of this occurrence and post the proof, in the form of a photograph, below. Unfortunatley the experience was diluted due to the fact I am here in the summer, but I'll be back!

Top Of The Hill

Scene of The Legend Of The Toothpaste

We finished our day off in St. Ives where we dined at a lovely vegetarian restaurant (there is such a thing Rustan). We journeyed there in a open top bus which reminded me of our last open top bus ride in Malta, a challenge for hemorrhoid sufferers everywhere due to the ancient springs of the bus, it's hard unforgiving seats and the dilapidated state of the Maltese roads. We were soon back at 'Top Of The Hill' enjoying an excellent nightcap in great company.

CATCH UP

It's been a long time since my last entry on this blog but there has been plenty of things to write about but not the time. However we find ourselves right now, comfortably ensconced in the charming Cornish Cottage owned by our good friends Fran and Ade. Needless to say we are about as far west as we could be, from the high ground that surrounds the cottage one can see Penzance, in the westerly distance, across what was today, thanks to a sudden turnaround in the weather, a sun kissed and sparkling Atlantic Ocean.

But let's wind the clock back a tad. At the last entry the World Cup was about to start and despite what many thought was a disappointing competition, I was thoroughly entertained by it all, right up to the end when Spain emerged victors and sunk without trace the best of my pre-tournament bets, that being the Dutch to win at 10-1. From the whole four weeks of cut and thrust, I emerged with a miserly £8, This has since been turned into a rather fortuitous £189 thanks to a each way treble coming home two weekends ago. Anyway, I digress.

Good old Rustan...here again

Halfway through the World Cup we had the annual Swengland Presentation afternoon. The blisteringly hot June weather meant that this year, as last, the afternoon was blessed by sunshine into the late evening. Rustan was in attendance and not only presented the awards but was the main man in the production of a Swedish Midsummer table, featuring all the delicacies associated with the time of year in his homeland. This included the Janssons Frestelse cooked properly, unlike Christmas when he was forced to use the highly salty British anchovies. This time he brought his own from Sweden. It disappeared without trace.

Guess who is the new Champion

I then paid a visit to an old familiar place. I wonder if some of you blog readers will recognise it from these two photos?

Look familiar?

And this??

Another real treat before the journey to Cornwall, was a trip to North London to go behind the scenes at White Hart Lane. The guided stadium tour is something I have wanted to do for ages and Trish and I joined the other fans at two in The Megastore to meet our genial host for the afternoon. I really enjoyed it of course. We eventually made our way, via the dressing rooms where the last plunge bath in The Premiership resides, soon to be in the Wembley museum, out onto the pitch. Of course last season we had three seats in the section of the ground reserved for the privileged members of 'The Captain's Club' which were right next to the tunnel. This information I imparted to our host who regarded the information as if coming from a habitual liar. Trish and I went and sat in our old seats, probably for the last time.

Look what I found in the trophy cabinet

Me and a really old cock.

My hero!

The school term lurched slowly to it's conclusion at the end of July and our thoughts turned towards the summer vacation. This year we have decided to spend it at home, taking trips away to see friends and family. So that's how this week, we find ourselves here.

Cornwall coastline

We took the train down from Paddington at midday yesterday and arrived six hours later in St. Erth met by Fran, Ade and son Joe. Cornwall has always been one of my favourite places, ever since my first visit here in the mid eighties with Goran, Ulf and Rob. The haze of that trip is still etched upon my mind. Today we have visited the Atlantic coast at Godrevy and marveled at the rollers crashing in on the Cornish beach which reminded me of the magnificent rollers from the Pacific that I saw tumbling in on the Sunshine Coast in Australia when I visited Jim a couple of years ago. It really was a magnificent sight. We also were able to see seals playing in the surf and rocky coves in crystal clear waters, rivaling that of the Caribbean this time last year.

Ade's in heaven

Sunshine Copast? No, Cornwall

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Fran, Ade and Joe moved down here in December last year and it is an idyllic retreat, as different from the drab, neolithic streets of Luton as it is possible to imagine. Built over 150 years ago it is picture perfect with a view of the sparkling Atlantic from the well stocked garden at the side of the house, a giant, magnificent, eucalyptus tree taking pride of place. Fran is at home here, it long being her dream to move to this area, a dream which unlike so many other people, she has realised. Ade and Jo, master of the music and filming, are also likewise happy, enjoying the long, steep, stamina building walks in the surrounding countryside. Ade now has a well stocked fridge sporting ales with typical eccentric English names such as 'Cornish Knocker',' Betty Stogs' and Doom Bar. He too is in his 'alement'. How marvelous it is to see happy people, friends who are enjoying life to the full it seems, in a beautiful part of this often and deservedly maligned country. Surrounded by green hills, fabulous views and unspoilt nature, they are now contented and fulfilled.

Good pubs, great beer, bigger gut.

HERE WE GO AGAIN

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Like it or loathe it, and I love it, the Football World Cup is with us again. The build up has been relentless and once again English flags and pennants have sprung up all over the place willing our nation, usually nothing to be proud of, to step up to the plate and this time...just this time, do us proud. The inclusion of five Spurs players this time round can only be good of course, my boys will be fresh from an inspiring season in the league and ready to continue their form for their nation.

However, I was thinking last night, what can I do for my country, as John Fitzgerald Kennedy once famously said. The answer to this was easy. So on my way back through Flitwick I stopped at my friendly branch of Joe Coral. I reckon our four main rivals for the cup this year are, in no particular order, Spain, Brazil, Argentina and Holland. I placed bets on all of them, hoping the curse of Scaley, so recently felt by Everton, Aston Villa and Manchester City in the Premier League race for fourth place, won as we know by Super Spurs, would strike again. I walked from the shop with a smug look on my face. That'll teach them to be favourites. I actually got 10-1 on the Dutch!

Of course I am slightly worried still. Against my better judgement I failed to include The Germans in my death spread bet. As I heard someone say yesterday,'never discount the Germans'. I might get back to Corals tomorrow........

The greatest German ever!

Here he is in better colours