Middlesex Sevens in the rain

Same as last year (see Fleetfoot Voodoo Man) one Saturday in August was spent at Twickers watching the Middlesex Sevens. As before, with a picnic in the car park, main course during the quarter finals, pud during the plate.

Tim vainly inspects the skies in search of blue

As you can see from the photo (please excuse the crapola quality, it was taken with a phone camera) it was not the most summery of days. Ah well, I guess that is the unpredictability of August in England.

Conscious Incompetence

Riding my new bike home on Friday evening and commuting this week put me in mind of the "Conscious Competence" model of learning. Unfortunately I am going backwards round the model. It was like being a learner driver all over again. Crunching the gears *wince*, wobbling round corners, trouble gauging the width of my vehicle.

Having ridden the old bike over 20 years and 10,000 miles I didn't even have to think when and how to change gear and could slalom betwixt taxi and bus with graceful and flowing curves. Now I am back to: approaching lights, change down, front cogs, changer on the left, forward lever, towards me, *clunk*.

Plus I am getting used to the whole style of the bike. Aluminium front forks are far less forgiving than steel over the cobbles of Storey's gate. The switch from dropped handlebars to straight alters the whole upper body posture. It all takes some getting used to. And the jury is still out on the bike vs body question. I must re-do my old route one morning to get a fair comparison.

Watching the river flow

Mary always finds being next to water relaxing. She has a friend who reckons that is because it is an essential for life and something in our animal hind brain takes comfort from the presence of flowing water.

Friday night Mary and I decided not to rush down to the cottage along the M3 with all the happy campers but have a relaxed evening in London. So we went to Ghillies on the River for an excellent meal and watched the sun set over the Thames, one of the great rivers of the world. That set me thinking about other great rivers we have dined beside:

• Old Father Thames. Of course. Ever since the Romans made it their principal crossing place, the river has played a vital role in the riparian history of Britain and, during the height of the Empire, the world. The mud postively oozes history.
• The Seine. As a courtesy to Paris I will include the Thames' sister river across the channel as a great river of the world.
• The Rhine. With me working in Basel in the past it has given us the opportunity to dine next to the Drei Koenig bridge watching the river - and the people - flow. Once a year the canton does a collective swim down the river; strange to spend a meal with hundreds of bobbing heads drift past.
• The Nile. We have dined beside (and on) this river during our honeymoon and again for our tenth wedding anniversary.
• The Mississippi. Dat 'ole man ribber. Maybe this is the river Bob* had in mind. I would not be surprised. We have been to the Jazz Fest twice and New Orleans is my favourite US city (Apologies to NY,NY).

What does that leave. The Ganges, the Amazon, what else...? I don't really fancy the Ganges. Holy it may be but it does not have a reputation as the cleanest and most hygenic of rivers. The Amazon is a different matter, I like the idea of a Latin-American trip and a Brazilian bank-side dinner.

* Watching the river flow by Bob Dylan

Hybrid or Road bike

Apologies to my regular readers (both of them) for a low blog count this week.

Monday I had thought to write up our wine-tasting from Saturday but didn't have my tasting notes. FYI it was four Chardonnays and four Syrah / Shiraz from the back of the cupboard (i.e. getting on and in need of drinking). Wednesday we had the head honcho from the client doing a tour of inspection - so no lunchtime surfing for all. Now it is Friday and I collect my new bike from Evans just round the corner.

For some time I have been toying with the idea of a new bike. Unable to decide whether it is the bike or the body that is old and knackered, I decided it was worth a try with a new bike. On the theory that I cannot change the body so changing the bike was, at least, worth a try.

Hybrid or Road bike was the next question. However this week's cycling make up my mind for me. Cycling the new off-road, cycle path route that Mary and I have sussed out, I have twice this week slid off on corners due to the smooth nature of the path. The pain, bruising and blood, not to mention the tear in my newly acquired lycra top, means I now want knobbly tyres with good grip.

Also this week hitting a pot hole at speed (swerving under the black cab to avoid the hazard was not really an option) meant having to reset both wheels at the kerbside. A road bike would have been f*****d by such conditions; I need a robust bike.

So, with some help from the charming and helpful Brazilian sales lady, I settled on a Specialized Crossroads Comp 2005. I left it there yesterday so they could fit the various accessories. Tonight I shall know the truth - body or bike!

Bobby's all right

He's a natural born poet, He's just outta sight *
Or maybe that should be...
Oh, hear this Robert Zimmerman I wrote a song for you **

The other night Mary and I listened to More Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits and it reminded me just what a genius he is. Not that the world needs me to tell it that. He is one of the great poets of the 20th century. It was a joy to chill out on the sofa and listen to a giant of the musical landscape.

* Telegram Sam by Marc Bolan and T.Rex
** Song for Bob Dylan by David Bowie

Violent and abusive behaviour

I am used to seeing signs at the airport declaring that violent and abusive behaviour towards staff will not be tolerated. At the check-in desk, at the security gate, in the customs hall. But wasn't that always true? And what is the point of stating the bleeding obvious? Like some aggressive type is going to be deterred by a notice. Could somebody explain this rash of nugatory notices to me?

Will we start seeing them in the sandwich shop next, "Anyone head-butting the staff will be refused ham and cheese on brown!" I would like to see the reverse notice: "Polite and patient behaviour will be very well received. Anyone showing such behaviour will be greeted pleasantly and may even be allowed to jump to the head of the queue :-)"

Anyway I was at St George's [Healthcare NHS Trust], Tooting, yesterday and they have them there too! Is the level of incivility increasing or are we just more vocal about it? Shall I put on my "grumpy old man" head and start on about the decline in manners and the collapse of civilisation at we know it. Well, sorry, I don't see that way. However it does seem that there were 84,273 reported violent or abusive incidents towards NHS staff in 2000/2001 which really is unacceptable given the dedication they show toward their patients.

Hit the freeze frame button

If the previous visit revealed disappointing progress this trip unveiled b*****r all progress. As soon as we left last time they must have hit the "Freeze Frame" button.

We arrived Friday morning to find Francesco, the trullaro (a stonemason specializing in trulli), hard at work. Given the "spot the difference" effect it smacked more than somewhat of "s**t the client's are coming, get down there pronto and look busy!"

Still all was not wasted. We spent three pleasant nights staying in the heart of the centro storico of Locorotondo in some excellent self-catering apartments we found through Sotto le Cummerse. We ate and drank Italian style and went shopping.

We went with Daniele to three shops to order, respectively, a wood-burning stove, a double and two single beds, and a credenza and cupboards for the living areas. Daniele will be taking delivery on September 15 by when, he assures us, one half of the property will be habitable. It better had be as Pete&Amanda are coming to stay as our guests the following week.

And he has a second deadline when Mary's sister and Mother come to stay at the end of October. By then he has to get ready the second half of the property, that will eventually become our home, for the girls to go shopping in order to kit it out.

Daisy, Daisy

Give me your answer do *

Today Mary and I cycled in to work together most of the way; not on a tandem but in tandem. We brought up Mary's folding bike up from the cottage on the train Monday and today she led me a different route in.

Normally I do no-brainer, shortest distance road route. Mary favours more scenic (and probably safer) cycle routes courtesy of the London Cycling Campaign's cycling map. This led us through Battersea Park and past the Peace Pagoda.

It was, in truth, a pleasanter route and I may well consider adding a few minutes to my journey in exchange for an improved two-wheeled lifestyle.

* Daisy Bell Harry Dacre, 1892

Chateau Climens 1991

I thought the 1988 Chateau Rieussec was superb but Saturday evening a half bottle of Chateau Climens 1991 just knocked me out. I kept going "ummmm!" and going back for more.

Parker in his book on Bordeaux doesn't give tasting notes for the 1991 but he cites Climens as a personal favourite and I am right there with him. And the Chateau itself (hardly an unbiased view) rates the 1991 vintage as one of their favourites.

It was all Parker said, but I don't have the book to hand to quote him. Grilled pineapple comes to mind - tropical fruits with toffee notes. An intensity of flavour that was just fantastic. Plenty of botrytis but not too cloyingly sweet and with a lemon tang in the after-taste to give it some character. Fabulous!

A survivor's blog

This is a blog worth reading: Survivor's Diary

Rachel from north London was in the bombed carriage of the Tube train travelling from King's Cross to Russell Square on the Piccadilly line. She has told the BBC News website about her experience and has been making daily postings.

Full of fruit goodness

Pret are a fine sandwich chain and I normally buy my lunch there but I do think their copywriters should be kept on a tight leash.

Their granola bar advertises itself as "Full of Fruit Goodness". B*****ks! It's a solid briquette of cereal held together with sucrose. Pure carbohydrate. Good fuel for the body and if the odd bit of dried fruit contributes any vitamin content of significance I would be very much surprised.

But the pièce de résistance is the blackcurrant drink "Naturally Low in Fat". <Voice="John Cleese">Of course it is! It's a FRUIT! No ANIMALS were slaughtered in the making of this FRUIT drink!<Voice="Normal">.

Mind you it is a bit like the "Reduced Fat" Lurpak spreadable butter we buy. Basically they have worked out how to pump more water into it but they are hardly going to label it "Increased Water"!

Collecting for Charity

The girl in Covent Garden, fundraising for charity, was most surprised that I stopped for a chat when she asked if I had a couple of moments. It seems Natalie Perez (for that was her name) had had a dispiriting morning trying to accost tourists (not interested) or office workers (too busy).

She was expounding the virtues of Friends Of the Earth through the use of carefully crafted, closed questions along the lines of "If you could save the planet with no effort on your part would you be interested?" Like who's going to say no. All part of a script for getting "Yes" answers to draw the mark in.

I explained that we were all "donation-ed out" what with the monthly contributions to MacMillan Fund and Cancer Research, not to mention Children in Need, Red Nose Day and the Tsunami Appeal. But I do talk to strangers and FOE is a worthy cause even if I was not inclined to contribute. It seems her spirits were improved by having someone actually stop, so I wished her good luck and went on my way.

Jazz at the Tower

Not just any old tower, The Tower of London that is. Sunday night M&M went with sister Jane and friend Heather to Jazz at The Tower. Picnic beforehand in the moat followed by a two-part set. Part A was the James Taylor Quartet followed by a relaxed (as a newt) interval then Part B was Georgie Fame and The Blue Flames.

A cracking evening with fine sets from both bands. JTQ cranked out the blues / funk / soul a lá Blues Brothers and GF was a showman schlepping out "Yeh, Yeh" which segued into a medley of fine old standards (give the punters what they want).

It was odd, not to say surreal, however, to have as an MC a genuine Beefeater.

Cleopatra's teeth

The reason I had always planned to work at home Friday was not the bombings but that Cleo was going in to Cedar Vets for a teeth scale and polish (it just worked out that way). This procedure is done under a general anaesthetic which is always a concern especially for a 15 year old cat.

I was, I admit, a little nervous having lost Oliver and Oscar in the last two years. As it was she came through with flying colours: teeth gleaming and not one extraction. The reason to do it now is preventive to try and avoid a toothless old age for her. Happily I seem to have got the timing right.

She is doing very well for a cat of her age which I attribute to her beings a GPM (General Purpose Moggie). The feline equivalent of a mongrel, a bit of mixed parentage seems to imbue her with hybrid vigour. I must ask Ian if he knows how her litter mates are doing.

Mark and Mary are OK

A number of friends have emailed to check that we are OK. We are fine and unaffected by the bombs (in the physical sense). We are both working in central London (me only 1/2 mile from the bus bomb). But both safely in our offices before it happened. I cycle in so getting home was easy. Mary walked down to Vauxhall (avoiding Waterloo) and got a train home. Working at home today.

Tempest at the globe

Tuesday night I took Dad to see The Tempest at The Globe Theatre as a belated 80th birthday treat. Much to my amaze he had never seen the play though he has seen many others. But then, hey, I have never seen King Lear. An unusual production but enjoyable and entertaining. Google "tempest globe review" to see what the critics thought.

It did remind me of the time Dad took me to the RSC at Stratford to see Peter Brook's production of "The Dream" way back nearly 25 years ago. That was a uniquely magical performance and a true example of the ability of the theatre to transport you to other realms. It has remained with me to this day.

Name check for Charlie

On Tuesday night I popped down to the cottage to drop Molly (Mary's Morris Minor) round to the garage for its MOT. On the train back in the morning (the 6:50 from Southampton Airport) I got chatting to a woman who was not a regular commuter. She was saying how kids were not as polite as they used to be; she was pregnant and hoped that she could bring up her child with good manners but was concerned it would be considered odd by its peers.

I was saying that the unruly ones are the ones that make the news and there are plenty of well-mannered, well-brought up children about. I cite my nephews (on my sister's side) as fine examples (see clip-clippety-clop). And so, also, it is true on my brother's side.

We went round to S.O. Sarah's on Saturday for the residents' association annual summer event. There was Lorenzo and his mates likewise "handsome, tall, and strong". All charming and polite, confident and self assured. I am sure I was never that poised at that age. Similarly for Lorenzo's girlfriend, Charlie, and her crowd. Anyhow I promised Charlie I would give her a name check on the blog so (hoping I got the correct spelling) there you go, Charlie!

Make Poverty History

http://www.live8live.com/
http://www.makepovertyhistory.org/
No more to say!

It's got a basket

Three bike items:

1) Sunday, on the way back from the cottage, I called in at Ian(&Kate)'s to check out his spare road bike. He is a serious, 100k on a Sunday morning, cyclist and has upgraded from aluminium to titanium! I wanted to know whether it was the (25-year-old) bike that was knackered or the (52-year-old) body ("Cycling shouldn't be this hard!"). Unfortunately I was not able to test ride the bike as it had no pedals! So back again in two weeks.

2) Monday I decided to "treat" myself to some clip-ins to replace the (20-year-old) toe-clip&straps arrangement that I put on my bike shortly after I bought it off Penny and read Richard's Bicycle Book. Shimano I think they are.

3) Tuesday; anyway, my bike has pannier carriers with an old wire basket cable-tied to it. So uncool - no serious road-biker would be seen dead with such a thing. But for me practical as I dump my old shoulder bag into it containing the clean shirt to change into at work, post-shower. This morning Mary and I saw a similar old bike but for a basket he had a wooden Chateau Cissac box attached at the back; now that is style!

So what top growth claret box could I attach to the back of a Ian's road bike? Let me check out the cellar now :-)

New World versus Old

A good wine tasting will have a theme to make it interesting and educational - be it 'vertical' (Vega Sicilia from the '80s and '90s), 'horizontal' (the 2004 vintage in Italy), 'varietal' (Rieslings from around the world), 'price' (supermarket reds for under a fiver), 'other' (bring something odd that the others might not have tried).

A popular theme is New World versus Old. Last night's tasting at the Charteris Wine Society went one better: Bordeaux versus South Africa. The wines were supplied by Virgin Wines and ably presented by the society's chairman, Jeremy. He knew his stuff but then so he should, he used to be a wine-buyer for Sainsbury's. The wines were:

Bordeaux

South Africa

Chateau de Roques Bordeaux Sauvignon Blanc 2004

Churchaven Stellenbosch Sauvignon Blanc 2004

Sichel Rocherolles Rouge 2003

Three Gables Cabernet Sauvignon / Merlot 2004

Chateau Macquin St Georges St Emilion 2002

Radford Dale Merlot 2001/2002

Chateau Maucaillou Cru Bourgeois 1993

Rustenberg John X Merriman 2002

Worst of the night: the Sichel Rocherolles Rouge (slightly musty, little fruit).
Best of the night: Chateau Maucaillou Cru Bourgeois 1993 (good extraction, slightly smokey nose, gentle tannins).

Not entirely surprisingly I preferred the New world and Mary favoured the Old, apart from the last pair when we switched allegiances.

Then we wandered off to Carluccio's Smithfield Caffé for supper. Noisy but good food, I had an excellent liver - to eat that is, I am sure sure about the state of my own after all this wine.