Wrapped up for Christmas

Merry Christmas! I'm now back with my parents for Christmas (unless you're a burglar, in which case er I'm actually still at home) and after a busy couple of weeks juggling the buying of presents and writing of cards, I'm finally relaxing into the Christmas spirit. I always enjoy Christmas Eve and the wonderful sense of wellbeing that flows from knowing that there is nothing left to do except eat grapes and cake, and sit back for a day just reading about "The Man Who Swam The Amazon".

Recently though I've been thinking about the many contradictions of the season (with its peculiar mixture of happiness, anticipation and anxiety) and reflecting on how things have changed since I was a child. In those days, when my sister and I were very young, we would wake up desperately early on Christmas morning to find our pillowcases stuffed with presents from Santa - Christmas being one of the two occasions in the year (aside from our birthdays) when we could ask for the big ticket items - like a bicycle, or an electronic keyboard - that were out of reach during the rest of the year. In a sense even though it was focused on material things I suppose it really did still seem rather magical.

These days - being older and of independent means - the magic of Christmas is more about spending time with the family, and less about getting cool stuff (which to be honest I'm able to buy for myself any time in the year). Christmas Day has a different and more enjoyable rhythm, which thankfully no longer includes tearing off wrapping paper at 5:30am: it's about simpler pleasures, like bacon butties for breakfast, everyone chatting and joking together over Christmas dinner, and a trip out in the cold to watch the annual Boxing Day Matlock Raft Race - or a walk along the Seagirt boardwalk with Kyle. (I was very fortunate to spend last Christmas with Kyle in New Jersey with her folks, and I'm sad not to be with her and be able to spend time with them all again this year.)

I do still like to give gifts and send Christmas cards though, and I think this compulsion is what causes me the most (self-inflicted) festive stress - I worry about finding gifts that people will really like or want, and in the past I've found the business of actually wrapping the stuff to be disproportionately taxing. I think I can feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of small decisions (like, "will Dad like this book?" or "what's the best way to wrap this hexagonal box?"). But I'm also starting to learn that things get much easier once I stop worrying and (as Kyle suggested to me) try to just enjoy it.

Which brings me back to the feeling that I enjoy the most, which is when everything is finally done: cards written and presents wrapped. It's then that I feel I can actually take the time to enjoy the simple things - like how the ice on the pavement twinkles like glitter in the weak winter sun (something I'm sure that Kyle would appreciate!), the satisfying crunchiness of the snow underfoot, or simply being able to sit and read a book all day.

Hopefully you're also enjoying your Christmas Eve wherever you are. So before I get back to my book, once again: Merry Christmas to you!

Closing time

It seems like a lot of things have closed down recently, of which my local Borders store is just the latest. I can still remember it opening back in 2005 and being thrilled to have a big bookshop - with a coffee shop and stationary section no less! - practically on my doorstep. The closure of this store is just part of a larger collapse of the parent company, so its problems can't be blamed exclusively on my reduced book consumption over the last year or so, but even so I'll be sorry to see it finally go.

This takes place against the background of a general feeling of things running down over the last few months, starting back in October when Yahoo closed its Geocities service (and with it my little website that was being hosted there) and bookended by the sudden disappearance last week of my local Spar shop (source of milk and Saturday newspapers).

Geocities provided free webhosting and I imagine that plain ol' economic arguments probably led Yahoo to pull the plug - but at the same time it seemed a shame that a lot of interesting and often wacky amateur web content was lost along with the service (though at least one of my favourites, a highly idiosyncratic and informative site all about swim caps seems to have been partially captured by the Way Back Machine internet archive).

I'm guessing that economics similarly contributed to the end of my local shops, and while obviously I'll survive their departures, it does feel like my real world - like the web without Geocities - will be ever so slightly little less colourful without them, at least for a little while.

A trip to London: visa medical, books and a dip

No rest for the wicked... just two days after Kyle returned to the US (along with her unwelcome "gift" of an awful cold, sorry Kyle...) on Tuesday I went to London for the day to get my medical for the visa application. Given that the journey time by train from Warrington to Euston is now under 2 hours, it was a pretty easy trip down which gave me plenty of time to have my packed lunch and wander around beforehand - I decided to skip the "Identity" exhibition at the Wellcome Trust (maybe next time) and headed off to the big Waterstones near Birkbeck College in order to do some Christmas book shopping instead.

The medical exam was booked for 1:30pm, and after a brisk walk I got there about 10 minutes early and feeling quite nervous as I didn't really know what to expect. In fact it turned out to be pretty straightforward - a chest X-ray, blood test, measurements of height, weight and blood pressure, and a few other basic checks - and most of the time was actually spent just waiting. I watched other people coming and going who I guess were also there for visa application medicals.

I felt pretty good afterwards - I guess it was the relief of having gotten over it - and after chatting with Kyle on the phone for a while I decided that I would head to the Oasis Sports Centre for a swim. The Oasis was one of the outdoor pools that I missed on my London Lidothon in July, but this one is heated and is open all year around - and it was nice and toasty in spite of the frosty London air (and the lifeguards completely wrapped in their coats). The staff there were also really nice, and after my dip I had a tasty pasta bake in the cafe while watching people continuing to swim outside. I'd definitely like to go back sometime and swim there again.

After that I still had some time to kill - the off-peak rail ticket that I had wasn't valid before 7:30pm - so I went back to Waterstones to get my books for Christmas ... plus a couple as a treat for myself: "Swimming Games and Activities", which looked interesting even though it's really aimed at children, and "The Man Who Swam the Amazon" (about this crazy German guy who swam along the Amazon river and somehow survived). I'm looking forward to reading both of them sometime soon.

So all in all it was a pretty good day. I think it might have been fun if Kyle had been there too (although we probably would have done something different) and it was good to have completed another piece of the visa application jigsaw. As ever - onwards and upwards!

Bye-bye Baby

Rainy Sunday, sigh... I got back from dropping Kyle off at the airport a few hours ago at the end of a wonderful week of having her here, and I'm feeling a bit sad. The flight status page on the airline's website shows that she's already halfway across the Atlantic, which seems more than a bit strange when I think that less than 4 hours ago we were still together (isn't modern technology - like planes and the internet - wonderful, and also slightly alarming like that?).

Although a week is always far too short, it was fantastic to have her here and I'm thankful that she made the trip at all - I'm grateful for all the time that we got to spend together. Kyle is a great documenter of her life, so for details of what we got up to (along with pictures!) I'd recommend checking out her blog (starting here). But mainly I'll remember just spending time together, having fun and just laughing so much together at the silliest things (LOLcats, anyone?).

So yes, I'm feeling a little sad here on my own right now without her. But when I think of the great time that we had together I feel better, and I know that I'll see her again soon. Love you Baby!

Designs for Life

I've just got back from a three-day trip to the Diamond Light Source (the UK synchotron in Oxfordshire). On a previous visit I noticed a set of textile panels on the back walls of the atrium, which looked like art based on images from the kind of scientific research done at the lab - including things like diffraction patterns, mould spores and viral molecules - but I didn't have much time to really look at them.

This time I had a bit longer and remembered to bring my camera, so one evening I decided I would get a few photos - I think that these are the kinds of things that Kyle would enjoy seeing and maybe she would enjoy the pictures. While I was busy snapping away a woman came and asked me why I was taking pictures - I was sure that I was going to get told off! But it turned out that she was Anne Griffith's - Diamond's "artist in residence" - and had been responsible for the collaboration of different artists that had produced the work.

She told me that she has a studio in office space next to the synchrotron ring, and that the panels - collectively called "Designs for Life" - were one of a number of different collaborations between artists and scientists at the lab. She also told me about how the panels had come to be produced, including one that featured stitching from many of the scientists - including the laboratory director. She also pointed out some other artworks in the atrium that I hadn't noticed before.

It was interesting to hear about the stories behind the art. To me they bring some warmth to the grand but possibly rather clinical atrium space, and also reveal the beauty in the science which is appreciated by scientists but sadly not always made visible to a lay audience - and in this (and in the source of their inspiration) they reminded me of similar designs for the 1951 Festival of Britain (celebrated in last year's "Atoms to Patterns" exhibition at the Wellcome Trust.

Anne has a website at http://www.pocketmouse.co.uk/ which talks about the "Designs for Life" project (amongst others) as part of her residency at Diamond - and you can see some of the panels in my (totally unofficial and completely unauthorise!) "Designs for Life" set on Flickr. Enjoy the collision of art, textiles and science!

Spider Explosion

I read in the paper at the weekend that there's been a big increase in the numbers of spiders this year, due to the temperate weather in the UK since last winter. This isn't too surprising for me - it feels like I've been finding them everywhere this year - even in the bed at my parents' house (shiver) - but it's reassuring to know that it's not just me.

While I'm not a huge fan of spiders (or of huge spiders, for that matter) but apparently this is good news, as spider numbers are an indicator of the health of the ecosystem. It's also good news for their predators (I'm not counting Kyle in that statement, in spite of the fact that she also hunts down and squishes any that she finds in her house - being more squeamish, I prefer to trap and release).

You can read more about the explosion in spider numbers here (warning: this article has pictures of spiders!). I know that a lot of people don't like spiders, but they do a lot of good controlling other insects - and after all the worries about bees and other wildlife species, it makes a nice change to hear something positive about the state of the environment literally in our own backyards. So viva la spider! (as long as it's not in my bed!)

On the run again

Thanks to the wonders of jetlag I was awake at 4am this morning, which is kind of annoying but did at least mean that I could get to the gym by 7am for a run and a swim. It's pretty quiet then - really I don't know why I don't go at that time more often, haha.

While I was in New Jersey with Kyle I did some running around her neighbourhood, which was good exercise and also useful as a way of finding my way around the local area. Running outdoors is quite a different proposition to running on a treadmill, and it was interesting to compare the two this morning.

Probably the biggest difference for me was the lack of immediate feedback - the machines tell you your speed, distance, gradient, time and calories burned, whereas outside you have to rely on your subjective impressions, which I found out can actually be quite faulty. I think I run further and quicker outside (don't get excited though, it wasn't that far/fast, and I certainly won't be running any marathons in record time). And after a few runs I was starting to learn how to listen more closely to my body, to know when I needed to slow down or pick up my pace.

Aside from that, running outdoors is more varied and I suspect more stimulating mentally. It was also good to see a few other runners on the street and do the runner's equivalent of the Masonic handshake as we passed. So I missed that a bit this morning - maybe I'll start running around my own neighbourhood in the next few weeks.

Afterwards in the pool I was practising my front crawl exercises again, after a six week hiatus. It's coming together but I still have problems with breathing, especially on the right side. However I do have a lesson tomorrow which will hopefully put me back on track. I have some other vague swimming plans but I think they'll have to wait until things settle down a little, in the meantime I'll just keep on running.

Back in the UK

I feel like the world's worst blogger, I'm back in the UK and I feel like I hardly blogged while I was out in New Jersey. I guess I was having too much fun with Kyle! and now I'm here without her again I'm missing my Jersey Girl. (I'm also missing her fast internet connection, but I won't mention that in case I sound unromantic. Oops!)

We got a lot done while I was in the US though - as well as our vacation in Myrtle Beach, we did a lot of wedding planning. We looked at a number of different possible wedding venues trying to find somewhere that worked for us, and although at times it felt like a real struggle in the end I think we came up trumps. So our ceremony venue will be the Huisman gazebo in Belmar, which is right next to the beach, and the reception will be at the Waterview Pavilion about a mile away. The town is close to Kyle's parents and looks like a great place for my UK visitors (with a rail link to New York for those who prefer the big city).

We also did a lot of work on various ideas for invitations and other graphics, and came up with some cool stuff. In the process I've also learned a lot more about the image manipulation program Gimp, and a little about other software such as Scribus, which has been fun, and I also learned that Kyle is a real whizz at making rocking miniature laptops. (Kyle has been collecting all our wedding idea stuff together in a set on Flickr, if you want to take a look.)

We're tentatively setting the wedding date for mid-May, but we're going to wait until my visa application has come through before sending out invitations, and now I'm back in the UK I'm getting together the final documents to complete the application. The process seems long and involved but I know that the end result will be worth it - and I'm inspired by the fortune cookie message that I got at PF Changs last Friday:

Sounds like great advice to me!

An Englishman in New Jersey

Kyle and I are back in New Jersey after a week's vacation in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina (all sea, sand, miniature golf and good Southern food - a great time was had by all). Coming back was a little bittersweet, even more so since while we were away it seems like summer has turned to autumn back here. Perhaps that was to be expected since Monday was Labor Day, a national holiday here in the US which - like the Late Summer Bank Holiday last week in the UK - unofficially marks the end of the summer.

Our Labor Day was spent getting reorganised after our holiday, but we also made a trip to the Menlo Park mall to pick up my wedding ring from the jewellers (so now we have both rings), followed by a visit to the big Barnes & Noble store next door. Kyle was looking for books on stretching and back pain while I was looking at magazines (and manfully resisting the urge to buy more books on software).

There were two cashiers at the checkout: an American woman giving Kyle the hard sell about how much money she would have saved on her purchases if she'd had a B&N membership, and a rather dapper and well-spoken middle-aged Englishman who rang up my mags. It still surprises me to hear another English accent here, and while I was paying I wondered whether I should acknowledge the fact that we were both Englishmen in a foreign country.

But all I could think of saying was something along the lines of, "So, you're English too?", and that seemed pretty lame, or "You're not from round here, are you?", which seemed even more lame. So I just let it pass (as did he), and afterwards I felt a little bemused - I'm sure there isn't any proper protocol for this kind of situation, but somehow I felt like there should be.

Anyway: since then we've been getting back on track with our wedding planning and are homing in on venues for the ceremony and reception. It's been intense but hopefully we'll be able to pull things together in the next week or so - stay posted (and in the meantime check out my slender selection of pictures from Myrtle Beach, and Kyle's more substantial collection).

Caught in a New Jersey hurricane!

I've been doing a particularly poor job of posting to this blog since I arrived in New Jersey, and tomorrow Kyle and I are flying out to Myrtle Beach so the situation is unlikely to improve over the next week.

In my defence, it's been a busy couple of weeks. In fact, just like the very real hurricanes swirling out in the Atlantic this time of year, it feels like we've been caught in our own metaphorical New Jersey hurricane - in between visiting our lawyer, buying our rings and attending the very rocking bowling alley wedding of our friends Chris and Christine, we've also been designing our wedding stationary, and checking out possible venues. Kyle has been doing a great job keeping up with this whirlwind in her blog (start with her "Wedding logo draft posting" and work your way forward, if you want more details or check out our great designs!).

In the odd minutes left over from all that, I've been enjoying being back in New Jersey now that it's summer - it's warm enough to go out without a coat, and the air is filled with the loud high-frequency clicking sound of the cicadas. It's pretty neat. Meanwhile there's also a few changes on the Princeton campus, which seems to be undergoing maintenance before the fall semester: the "marching figures" have disappeared from the front of the Art Museum, Upstart 2 has lost its black paint job (now more in keeping with the artist's intentions), and until earlier this week my favourite fake Picasso sculpture had also been under wraps.

Also, random people seem to be more talkative now. They're often interested in where I'm from, and how the weather differs between the US and the UK (my take: generally the climate in NJ is quite similar to back home, although a bit more consistent than back home, and with greater extremes - the summer being much hotter, and the winter is much colder). They're also interested in knowing if I follow soccer, and seem disappointed when I say I don't (I might start trying to bluff my way through it in future).

Anyway, fun as it is all is, after running around for the last few of weeks it'll be fun to finally get away to South Carolina for a bit: sun, sea and sand, miniature golf and great food at the K&W. I'm sure Kyle will be blogging in real time while we're there, otherwise - see you when we get back. Aloha!

From Ingleton to Princeton

What a difference a week (or so) makes - I'm now back in New Jersey with Kyle for a month or so, but just over a week ago I was wandering the Waterfalls Trail in the village of Ingleton ("Land of Caves and Waterfalls") in North Yorkshire, followed by a swim in the heated outdoor pool there.

It seemed like quite an inauspicious day, overcast and with intermittent rain both on the train journey to Lancaster and on the number 80 bus to Ingleton itself, and the start of the waterfall trail was pretty dark and muddy beneath the overhanging trees. The first part of the trail follows the River Twiss and the second section returns along the River Doe, so the sound of the rushing water is almost constant, with even the largest waterfalls seemingly hidden from view until you get close up.

Probably the most spectacular of many spectacular waterfalls - presumably well-fed from the recent rains - was Thornton Force (incidentally my choice of pseudonymn when I start writing thrillers: "Another novel from the pen of Thornton Force"). Getting between the two rivers involved a walk across farmland which thankfully also featured an ice cream van.

After walking for 3 1/2 hours, I was feeling like a swim. The Ingleton pool was last on my small list of pools that I'd planned to visit over the summer, and while it's not so large, the place is big on character, with the nicest voluntary staff ever - when I arrived it was full of kids fooling around but the woman running the cafe very kindly let wait until the break at 4pm then I could have a little swim on my own before they came back at 4:30 (so as long as I promised "not to drown"). The sun came out and for twenty minutes I had the pool to myself - blue skies above, blue water below, nothing else like it. Bliss!

At 4:30 the pool filled up again with the kids and also people who like me had finished the Waterfalls Trail. It was a lot of fun and a complete constrast to the tranquility I'd been enjoying a few minutes earlier. A hot cup of tea from the cafe was the perfect way to relax afterwards, although I was denied fish and chips from the Inglenook cafe as it's closed all day Tuesday. I ended the day waiting at the bus stop (where a crowd of Hasidic Jews were also waiting for their own coach).

(My pictures of the waterfalls and other things around Ingleton can be found on Flickr.)

The rest of the week was spent preparing for my trip back to the US, which is where I am now. It's great to be back with Kyle again! And the weather in New Jersey is definitely much warmer compared with when I was last here in January. We have plenty to do over the next few weeks, including some wedding planning (see Kyle's recent blog postings for some of what we're up to), but I know it's going to be fun. Stay posted!

Stanage Edge

Yesterday I had a day out walking along Stanage Edge, according to Wikipedia a "gritstone escarpment in the English Peak District". It's not far from the village of Hathersage - which I'd been to last month for a swim - and armed with an Ordance Survey map (OL1), a magnetic compass (in the event fortunately not required), a pair of borrowed waterproof overtrousers (since I'd left mine back in Warrington), and a generous packed lunch from my Mum (very tasty). So I felt pretty well prepared.

I had a couple of possible routes printed out: one from the Guardian (which I think is actually from a company called WalkingWorld; see a version here, without the map) and another from a great site called Walking Britain (in the event I didn't use this one but it had been useful to see it before setting off).

Getting to Hathersage was pretty straightforward but unfortunately there didn't seem to be a direct walking route to Hook Car (where my Stanage Edge route was supposed to begin) so it took me a while before I was even at "the start". Never mind - once I'd ascended the path up to the escarpment I felt like it had been worth the journey just to soak up the views over the Hope Valley. The sun had come out and the air was fresh as I set off north along the edge. Aaaah!

It turned out it was lucky that I'd borrowed those waterproofs, as about 40 minutes later the skies darkened and the views disappeared for a while as the downpour began. There was no shelter so I simply carried on and waited for the rain to blow over while I took a wrong turning (ending up below the escarpment again) and then wandered through an area littered with old millstones before managing to find a way back up again. Back at the top and with blue skies restored at least for the time being, I took a break for lunch. The views are fantastic and I was a little sorry that I was on my own.

Lunch over it was time to press on a bit further along the edge, below doubling back on a path that took me back to the littered millstones and through another heavy shower (both seemed familiar from earlier in the day), before turning off in the direction of Hathersage. I think that the views of Stanage Edge at this point from "ground level" were also well worth seeing - from below the cliff faces looked like they'd been constructed from huge cubes of stone.

Finally after a long walk across several fields full of grazing sheep I arrived back in Hathersage. I'd entertained vague hopes of fitting in a swim in the outdoor pool there, which I think would have been a great way to finish off the day, but unfortunately I'd arrived at the end of the public swimming session. So instead I got a cup of tea and a flapjack at the cafe and then headed back home on the train. It had still been a great day out, and I'm really glad that I went and got some more use out of my walking boots!

Big thanks to Mum and Dad if you're reading this, for helping me out. And you can see all my pictures on Flickr at http://www.flickr.com/photos/oblong_dog/sets/72157621749256541/ if you're interested in seeing what it looks like.

Ilkley & Liverpool: a lido, a moor, and "The Mole of Edgehill"

It feels like it's been a busy few weeks, what with my London Lidothon, cycling and restarting swimming lessons, and so my trips out to the Yorkshire town of Ilkley and to Edgehill in Liverpool a couple of weeks ago seem to have slipped through the net (as far as blogging is concerned).

I went to Ilkley principally to visit the lido (an outdoor swimming pool and leisure facility), but while I was there I also had a bit of a wander on the famous Ilkley Moor (and yes I went "baht'at", as the song goes - but I managed to survive all the same).

I was interested in the outdoor swimming pool after seeing it in a list of Britain's top ten lidos. It's a classic lido design, with a curved pool and a fountain (there are some nice pictures at http://www.ilkley-town.co.uk/ilkley-pool.html). The lido was open for the summer, but the water is unheated and the cooler summer so far this year meant that it was a bracing 18C (around 65F) - no wonder it was so quiet! I felt like all the breath was sucked from my lungs when I first got in, but after a few minutes swimming around I adjusted and began to enjoy the view of Ilkley Craggs in the distance.

I swam for around 20 minutes or so (feeling a little envious of the triathletes in their wetsuits - must get me one!), and afterwards I'd planned to get something to eat at the lido cafe. Unfortunately it was closed, so I settled for fish and chips back in the town centre before heading up towards the moor. I'd printed out a guide from the web so at least I thought I had some idea of where I was going. First stop though was the White Spa Cottage, which offered a mug of tea and a big piece of fruit flapjack served with a spectacular view over the town across to the hills opposite (I even spotted the lido, a splash of artificial blue next to a cricket pitch).

After that I spent a few hours following tracks over the moor. It's quite beautiful in a desolate way, and apart from the sheep it was pretty empty - I only passed one person, although I did see others occasionally in the distance. Some parts even reminded me of the volcano area on the Big Island of Hawaii, and I was entranced by patches of silver-white "flowers", as well as the distant wind turbines (always a favourite!) and the mushroom-like domes of the early warning station at Menwith Hill. All in all I really enjoyed my long walk and would love to go back again sometime - I think Kyle might have enjoyed it too.

(See all my pictures from Ilkley on Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/oblong_dog/sets/72157621355190058/)

A couple of days later I met up with my friend James on the outskirts of Liverpool, to visit part of the Williamson Tunnels that have been excavated and turned into a tourist attraction. The tunnels themselves were originally built in the 1820s and 30s by Joseph Williamson ("the Mole of Edgehill"), an eccentric local landowner and philanthropist. Aside from the very colourful stories about Williamson (there must be a film in there somewhere!) there are some wild theories as to why he built the tunnels. The most plausible seems to be that it was a form of land reclaimation - the tunnel roofs spanned gaps left behind by sandstone quarrying.

Only a small fraction of the tunnels have been cleared (they were used extensively as landfill for building rubble after Williamson's death), and an even smaller part is actually open at the moment. But the workmanship is pretty amazing - huge brick arches that are still solid today, nearly 200 years later.

Hopefully in the next couple of years more of the tunnels will be open and it will possible to go even deeper into this secret world. In the meantime you can see my (not so great!) pictures from the tunnels at http://www.flickr.com/photos/oblong_dog/sets/72157621386627854/ or check out the official website at http://www.williamsontunnels.co.uk.

Swimming lessons

For some reason I woke up at the ungodly hour of 6:30am this morning and decided I'd go swimming at the gym before the pool got too crowded. I love swimming but I've always struggled to swim a "relaxed" front crawl that I can maintain for longer than a single pool length, and so I've been taking lessons for a few months now to try and improve my technique. (I've often wondered if I should refer to the lessons as "swim coaching", as most people assume you only have lessons if you can't swim at all.)

I'm learning the Shaw Method of swimming front crawl with a great teacher called Linda from Swimtime. This has consisted of practising individual exercises that relate to small parts of the stroke, which are then built up to the full stroke at the end. So you only really get the benefit if you can stop yourself trying to swim the full stroke and instead be disciplined enough to keep repeating the exercises in between the lessons (which have been pretty infrequent really - I think I've had six since February).

The learning process has had its ups and downs. The patten seems to be that new exercises are initially frustrating and difficult, since they modify the patterns mastered in the previous step. Slowly they become easier through repetition, and the next set of exercises are then introduced and the cycle begins again. Looking back, I think that I've found this step-wise "stop/start" approach quite challenging at times, since it doesn't give always give me the feeling of continual improvement - instead, progressing to the next stage (starting a new set of exercises) can initially feel like a step back rather a step forward.

Standing back though, by diligently practising the exercises several times a week, over the months I clearly have made progress - I'm nearly up to swimming the full stroke now. It has reinforced an idea that I really do believe in (and which Kyle touched upon in her post yesterday), that for most things you've got to put the hours in if you want to see results. Or, as someone else has put it more eloquently: "Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out."

The Screech and the Fury: Southport to Warrington by bike

Almost one year on from our cycle ride along the Transpennine Trail from Warrington to Chesterfield, last Saturday the three of us (Ronan, Charles and me) were once again tackling the trail with our bikes.

It was all Ronan's idea: to cycle the 40 mile stretch from the western-most point on the Irish Sea at Southport back to Warrington. It's pretty flat and generally well paved (unlike last year's section, which took us two days to travel 90 miles and had the Pennine hills right smack in the middle) so it seemed quite reasonable that we should be able to manage it in one day. My only concerns were the weather (we'd had torrential rain just the day before), my old bike (now squeaking pretty much constantly whenever I pedalled, and screeching whenever I braked), and myself (since I'd cycled relatively few miles since the start of the summer). So, no worries then.

Everything turned out fine. After some initial confusion about meeting up at Southport station we got to the Millenium Marker on the seafront, where the trail begins (it was easily visible due to the gaggle of other cyclists stood around the base), and we were soon on our way. And although the wind never really dropped, the rather omnious grey clouds had by the end of the day turned to blue skies and - miraculously - we were never troubled by rain.

The route itself is pretty gentle with relatively few road sections. Long sections are converted from old railway lines so there are lots of neat bridges and tunnels, and in places we were cycling between sandstone walls now overgrown with thick foliage - like something from a Harry Potter film. Other little highlights on the way included the Leeds-Liverpool Canal and "Wally's Steps" (which have a groove to make it easier to wheel your bike up and down) and the Silver Jubilee Bridge across the Mersey Estuary - a magnificent piece of engineering. (A slightly different highlight was the excellent and very inexpensive food at the Morrisons supermarket cafe in Speke.)

As the evening was very pleasant we decided to stop for a drink at the Ferry Tavern pub on the final stretch about two miles from Warrington. One drink turned into two (and two into three) while we talked about this journey, last year's, and life in general.

It was good to kick back for a couple of hours, but finally we had to complete the last section. I'm not sure whether the drinks helped or hindered us on this part (they may have been partially responsible for a sudden outbreak of racing at this point) but we soon got back to Warrington, and Charles and I continued up to the Millenium Marker on Knutsford Road, where we had started from last year. It seemed a fitting place to stop (at least for now).

You can see the pictures from the trip on Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/oblong_dog/sets/72157621743836736/

Alternatively check out the slide show:



After all that I'm ready for a bit of a rest. But I still need to catch up with my trips to Ilkley and the Williamson Tunnels in Liverpool, so stay posted!

The best laid plans of mice and men

As a coda to London Lidothon (and at Kyle's request), I thought I'd write about my complicated morning trying to leave my friends' house yesterday. They had gone to work, leaving me to pack and get a taxi to the train station - once I was ready all I needed to do was lock the front door behind me as I left, dropping the key through the letterbox.

At 9:40am I'm pretty much ready to go, when I'm surprised to see one of their cats chasing a mouse around my backpack next to the front door. Feeling a bit sorry for the mouse, and to save my friends from finding a dead mouse when they got home from work, I reluctantly cornered the two animals in the downstairs bathroom and shooed the cat away. As the poor rodent cowered in the corner I picked it up in a towel, opened the front door to step outside, and tried to release the mouse.

The first problem was that when I got outside, the mouse was not in the towel - it must have escaped and was still in the house - bad news for the mouse but only a minor inconvenience for me.

The second problem was that in closing the door behind me (to try and prevent the cat catching the mouse again) I had managed to lock myself out of the house. This was bad news for me (and absolutely disastrous for the mouse).

I think it took a few moments for my mind to catch up with the reality of the situation, which began to take on a slightly unreal quality. I underwent a rapid series of perceptual shifts that started with the most obvious fact (the door is locked) and extrapolated to the final consequence (I'm outside the house - thankfully dressed - but without shoes and carrying a hand towel, all my things are inside, my friends won't get home for another 7 hours, and it looks like it might rain). It was like being in one of those lateral-thinking brainteasers: "You're trapped outside a locked house. If you call your friend he can come and let you in, but you need your phone for his number and it's inside the house." Surely there's some solution? Does it have something to do with wheel nuts? Matchsticks? Is the answer printed upside down at the bottom of the page?

I mean, how could this even have happened? Until that moment I'd had no idea that you could lock the door without the key. While I stood considering the turn of events, the cat slunk out of the cat flap in another door and gave me a withering look as it crossed the road.

I knew that the key was still in the lock on the other side. Maybe I could reach through the letterbox somehow and get hold of it? The slot looked quite narrow though, and I pondered the wisdom of trying it: the current situation (i.e. I'm locked out) isn't good, but it's better than the alternative (i.e. I'm still locked out but now my hand is also stuck in the door). I tried it anyway, to no avail. So there was nothing else for it: I knocked at the neighbour's house.

I'm extremely lucky that my friends have such a wonderful neighbour. She didn't know their phone numbers but she made me a cup of tea and let me use her phone and internet (I'm not sure that I would have trusted me if the situation had been reversed, but I'm glad she did). She suggested calling a locksmith to open the door, and half an hour later a man called Tim pulled up, stuck a length of bent metal through the letterbox and instantly popped the door open.

Inside the mouse lay dead on the carpet, and Tim was required to charge me £75 for his 10 seconds of work (suddenly locksmithery looked like a very interesting and lucrative line of work). I called my friend and explained what had happened - he laughed so much that I thought maybe I should charge him too - and was soon on my way home.

Afterwards I did feel sorry for the mouse, and I thought to myself that there hadn't been any winners that day. Well, except for Tim (obviously). And possibly my friend, since he had enjoyed the story. And of course the cat.

London Lidothon: day 2

Today was the second day of my "London Lidothon" and I managed to make it to another three pools - starting with the pool that I didn't make it to yesterday.

Pool #4: The Serpentine Lido, Hyde Park

After some ineffectual wandering around Knightsbridge trying to find Hyde Park I finally made it to the lido on the Serpentine Lake in Hyde Park around 11:30am. Unlike all the other pools that I visited on this trip, this lido consists of a section of the lake that has been roped off for swimmers - although you still have to share it with various geese and other water fowl.

In the context of the lake the lido area seems relatively small but it's actually over 100m long so swimming a few laps can quickly add up to a considerable distance. I wore my swim cap for the first time because I was afraid that the water would be cold, but it didn't seem too bad (according to the lifeguard the water temperature was 21C/68F) and it was pretty quiet. It's pretty neat to swim in a lake! And the lido staff were really nice, so this was a real treat overall.

See http://www.serpentinelido.com/ and http://www.serpentineswimmingclub.com/

Afterwards I got a sandwich and a cup of tea at the Lido Cafe next door and then headed off to the next pool...

Pool #5: Parliament Hill Lido

With my wet towel making me feel a bit like Arthur Dent from "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy", I took the tube from Knightsbridge to Leicester Square, changing to the Northern Line to get to Kentish Town, then walked to Parliament Hill and arrived at the lido around 1:40pm. It's a great brick building with an enormous 60m pool with an unusual stainless-steel lining that shimmered in the sun and made the pool look like a small lake.

This definitely felt like the coldest pool that I swam in! and I wore my swim cap again (the lifeguard told me that the water temperature was 20C but it felt much cooler to me - possibly because the sky began to cloud over and a cool breeze developed, creating waves on the surface of the pool).

I really liked this lido, the staff were really nice again but also had a great sense of humour (for example, when knocking on the reception door to deposit my clothes before swimming, the attendant inside said "What's the password?"; and another attendant warned me that it was especially busy just before I entered the near empty pool - maybe you had to be there for that one). And there were lots of colourful photos on the walls that celebrated the lido's history.

Not to mention the very cool multicoloured cubicles in the vast changing room. Overall I really liked this place and my only regret (aside from the temperature of the water) was that I didn't have longer to spend there.

See http://www.camden.gov.uk/ccm/content/contacts/non-council-contacts/contact-parliament-hill-lido.en

Pool #6: London Fields Lido

From Gospel Oask station (next to Parliament Hill) I took an overground train to Hackney Central and then walked to London Fields and got to the lido around 3:40pm.

The London Fields Lido is a heated pool (I didn't get the temperature but it felt a lot warmer than Parliament Hill!) so although it's much smaller than most of the other pools it was also a lot more popular. The pool is lined with multicoloured changing cubicles and lockers that are very reminiscent of those at Tooting Bec Lido, with the swimming area divided into different sections for lap swimmers of different speeds.

I swam around in the "slow" lane for a while looking at the darkening sky until I finally decided I had to leave and get back to my friends in Datchet, since we were planning to have dinner that evening in Windsor (thanks again to them for letting me stay for the two days!).

See http://www.hackney.gov.uk/c-londonfields-lido.htm

I had a lot of fun and I'm really glad that I made the effort to visit the pools. But after two days of swimming I'm also ready for a rest! So tomorrow I'm heading home. A couple of acknowledgements are due however before I finish:

• Janet Smith's "Liquid Assets", Kate Rew's book "Wild Swim", and the websites Lidothon'09 and Oliver Merrington's Lidos in the United Kingdom were all sources of invaluable information,
• London Transport did amazing work moving me around London, and
• My friends Steve and Ingrid have been fabulous hosts allowing me to stay at their place while engaged in this little adventure.

It's been a blast! Happy swimming!

London Lidothon: day 1

I've completed day one of my two day trip to visit some of the pools and lidos in London, and it's been fun. The weather has been pretty good and I've really enjoyed swimming in the pools.

I'd hoped to make it to four pools today, but I suppose I underestimated how long it would take to get between them (I should have remembered from previous trips to London); also I think I made a bad transport choice between the first two pools that cost me a lot of time. But that's ok, because I still have tomorrow.

Pool #1: Pools on the Park, Richmond

I arrived at Pools on the Park around 10:40am - it's just a short walk from Richmond station so it's really convenient. The indoor pool is currently being refurbished - you could see workman wandering around inside - but the outdoor pool is still open.

The pool is heated (supposedly today to 27C) so it was very pleasant, and is divided into lanes for different levels of swimmer - I started off in the "nice and easy" lane, because basically I was there to have fun. It was great to swim on my back and see blue sky with the airplanes flying overhead (it reminded me a little of the pool at the Hilo Hawaiian Hotel on the Big Island of Hawaii).

See http://www.springhealth.net/richmond/facilities.html

Pool #2: Tooting Bec Lido on Tooting Common

I took the 493 bus from Richmond to Tooting Broadway tube station, which I think turned out to be a bad choice as it took forever to get there - and then I still had to get the tube to Tooting Bec and walk to the lido, arriving around 2pm. But it was well worth the journey - the pool at the lido is an enormous expanse of blue water. At 90m long it's the biggest pool I've ever swum in, and it looks fabulous - curved toilets and shower blocks at the entrance, and rows of changing cubicles with different coloured doors lining the sides of the pool. It looks like a fabulous place to spend an afternoon.

The water is unheated and at 19C was a little on the chilly side at first. Now though I think the trick is to get in and swim on your back for a few minutes, to acclimatise and get your circulation going. After that the water doesn't feel so cold (honest!).

I swam 10 lengths (trying to avoid the hose from what appeared to be an underwater roomba, cleaning the pool floor maybe?), watching trains whizz past periodically, before getting out and having a cup of tea and a hot dog at the lido cafe. Then it was time to head off for pool #3...

See http://www.wandsworth.gov.uk/Home/LeisureandTourism/Sports/Facilities/tootinglido.htm

Pool #3: Brockwell Lido, Brockwell Park

Getting to here from Tooting Bec seemed a little involved too - tube from Tooting Bec station to Stockwell and then to Brixton, then transfer to mainline rail to Herne Hill before walking a short distance to Brockwell Park and the lido.

Brixton itself had real buzz, almost a carnival feel (even late on a Tuesday afternoon) compared to Richmond and Tooting. The lido (also known as "Brixton Beach") is a classic 1930 brick building. The pool itself is pretty big and really nice to swim in, although again unheated (the board claimed it was 21.5C but it felt colder!). There is also plenty of space beside the pool for sunbathing and quite a few people were sitting or lying down soaking up the rays.

After my swim I got a cup of tea and some tasty toast at the cafe (currently being refurbished but thankfully still open for business).

See http://www.brockwell-lido.com/

At this point it was too late to make it to the Serpentine, so after some more messing around with the underground I decided I should head back to my friends place in Datchet. They have been really great at giving me somewhere to stay and looking after me with food and drink, so a big thanks to them. Tomorrow I'll head back into London to swim in a few more places - but for now, it's time for bed!

Getting ready to swim!

I just arrived at my friends Steve and Ingrid's place near London this evening ahead of two days swimming in the some of the pools and lidos of London - very generously they're letting me stay here for a few nights.

Hopefully the pools will be slightly warmer than the lido that I went to in Ilkley last week (will blog that when I get home) - at least now I have a swimming cap from the Outdoor Swimming Society online shop (it arrived this morning just before I left, a good sign?) so that should help to keep warm.

I guess I'll get to bed soon and get some rest before my "London Lidothon" begins tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Warrington Walking Day

Last Friday was Warrington Walking Day and since I'd never actually watched the procession before I decided to go up to the town hall to see the start of the parade.

Most of the week had been hot and humid, but on the day the weather was wet (and somehow strangely still a little sticky too) so the people assembled on the lawn had to march out through Warrington's Golden Gates in the rain. I imagine that the crowd was smaller than in years with better weather but the turnout was still good - a small forest of umbrellas - and the walkers themselves put on a brave face as they passed the mayoral party, waving back from their little shelter.

I wasn't sure ahead of time what the Walking Day procession would actually consist of, but essentially it's a parade made up of the local churches and community groups. Most of them carry banners or flags (often quite colourful) and there were also a few marching bands, including pipe and drum, bagpipes, and full brass. I'm sure that on a sunny day the whole thing has quite a bit of a carnival atmosphere.

It took around 30 minutes for all the walkers to clear the gates and set off on their route around the town centre. For a while the rain eased but then came back with a vengence, so after watching the parade for a bit longer in Bridge Street I decided that the best thing to do would be to head home for some tea and dryness. I hope that the people marching didn't suffer too much in the downpour - I was certainly glad to have finally seen something of this grand Warrington tradition.

My fairly ordinary pictures from the event are now on Flickr if you're interested in seeing what it looked like (I've realised how difficult it can be to get interesting photos from a distance with my rather basic camera, although I think I managed a few good ones). There is also information about Walking Day on the Warrington local government website.

Friends

As an addendum to last week's post about beer, I had a great time with my friends last weekend and hopefully they all enjoyed it too.

As well as drinking most of the beer, we also went to Liverpool on the Saturday and spent much of the day in different parts of the Albert Dock: Steve and I went to the Tate gallery (which currently features work by Sol LeWitt, who incidentally also has a piece on the Princeton University campus) as well as seeing some great prints by Carol Lander in the Whistlefish Gallery. The others visited the Beatles Experience (which Kyle and I had already seen last year). This was followed by a drink at the Pumphouse and dinner at Nandos, which sadly left no time for a Mersey boat trip (maybe next time), but at least they also got to see something of Warrington.

I was sad to see everyone go on Sunday - it seems that we don't see each other as often as we would like - but clearing up afterwards I found some solace in this inspiring message from my Friday evening fortune cookie:

So I'll drink to that and look forward to seeing them again soon!

(With thanks to Stephen for his photo of us on the way to Liverpool.)

Beer

Some friends are arriving at various times today for a weekend at my place, and wishing to act the gracious host I have been cleaning and tidying and getting in supplies - which includes staggering back from Asda with a backpack and a bag laden with various beers, ciders and wines. Should get the weekend off to a good start - cheers!

Nantwich Brine Swimming Pool

Taking advantage of some nice weather this morning (some light cloud and a bit of blue sky and sun), I zipped over to Nantwich to swim in the outdoor brine swimming pool there. I gather that it's the only inland brine (i.e. salt water) pool left in Britain now, and having swam there last September I thought it was worth a return visit.

My swim was good, and although the pool isn't quite as nice as the one in Hathersage (to be honest, it's hard to compete with the hills of the Peak District visible all around) it's always nice to be able to see sunshine reflected on the bottom of the pool, and clouds and sky when you float on your back. There seemed to be a lot of people swimming very seriously, which I think is a bit of a shame when you could be enjoying just being in the water on a warm sunny day. At least the dolphin shaped litter bins on the poolside looked like they were having fun (unfortunately photography isn't permitted but you can see someone else's picture of similar bins on Flickr - pretty neat).

Nantwich itself seems like a nice place (and has a sports shop selling swimming stuff) but after my swim I felt I just wanted to get home, so I caught the bus back to Crewe via the village of Willaston where I saw some signs advertising the "worm charming" championships being held next weekend. I'd never heard of this before but apparently it's a tradition going back to 1980 (if you're intrigued then read more about it at www.wormcharming.com). Funny sometimes what goes on in your own backyard.

Now I'm back home and I think I can still taste some salt on my lips (although it's probably just my imagination). I'm also getting a bit of a taste for this outdoor swimming, and so I might go back to Nantwich sometime in the summer to swim again (and maybe next time also look around the town afterwards). In the meantime Chesire East Council's Nantwich Outdoor Swimming Pool webpage has more information about the pool.

Trains

The trains at the back of my house are on the move again this morning and making the entire house shake. This isn't a particularly unusual occurance - my terrace backs onto railway sidings that are used by freight trucks, mainly carrying coal for the nearby power station these days (years ago I'd also sometimes see stacks of motor cars, but not any more).

I've never counted how many cars form each train but they are very long and very heavy - much longer and heavier than passenger trains - and when they move it can sometimes feel like a scene from the 1955 film classic "The Ladykillers" - everything in the house can vibrate, including the floors and cheap IKEA wardrobe, and occasionally the bedroom door will swing open slowly. I'm sure that my original stereo got slowly shaken to bits as a result, and it has also caused me a degree of distress (and plenty of needle-wobble) at times while recording my old LPs.

Even so, I do like the trains. I find their constant to-ing and fro-ing reassuring somehow, and it's interesting to see the edge of the otherwise secret world of rail freight. Plus it's fun sometimes on a grey Monday morning to imagine that you might be in a classic Ealing comedy.

A trip to Crosby: wind turbines, 100 iron figures and a mile of sea-borne junk

Yesterday I took a trip out to Crosby Beach and the Sefton coast, just north of Liverpool. The main attraction was to see an artwork called "Another Place" by artist Antony Gormley, which consists of 100 cast iron figures (cast from the artist's own body) placed in the sand. I figured after that after seeing them I could walk up the coast about 7 or 8 miles to Formby point for a nice afternoon out. I got more than I bargained for I think.

The figures themselves are fascinating, spread out quite far apart from each other, some close to the sand dunes and others partially submerged by the sea even at low tide. They're corroding in interesting ways and some are even covered in barnacles. Add them to the farm of huge wind turbines just off-shore and you can't help wondering - if humankind disappeared tomorrow, what would future beings make of this peculiar landscape?

I spent a while wandering between the figures taking pictures of them and the turbines (I love wind turbines! and how they dominate the seafront here) and the beached jellyfish slowly evaporating to nothing in the sun - one of the quietly strangest things I've seen for a while. It was a great place to spend an hour watching ships coming and going, and distant flocks of seabirds darting around like swarms of bees - an angry smudge out to sea.

Walking up the beach I passed a UFO-like building that turned out to be a leisure centre with a very nice looking swimming pool visible through the tinted glass, and I was sorry that I'd decided not to bring my trunks and towel. I like to swim in new places and my recent trip to Hathersage pool had reminded me of the kind of fun water can be when you give up on swimming lengths once in a while. Maybe I'll come back out here again sometime and give it a try.

The Gormley figures are dotted along roughly 2 miles of the beach, and after a while I started to get that Groundhog Day-like feeling that surely I'd already passed this figure a few minutes earlier? In spite of the potential that the figures seem to offer for "decoration", only a couple stood out - I suppose that the sea and other elements take their toll and clean the figures up pretty effectively. Elsewhere the beachfront reminded me a little of the boardwalk around Seagirt and Spring Lake in New Jersey, with big houses set back from the beach behind the sand dunes.

Finally past the figures I followed the trail through the sand dunes, seeing some interesting trees, flowers and butterflies, but at some point I must have missed a turning because I ended up in what looked like a rather well-appointed suburb in Hightown. From here I struggled to find the trail again, eventually finding a path that skirts the Altcar rifle training camp from where I heard sounds of gunfire from behind the sand dunes as I plodded onwards. Finally I found a path that headed back towards the beach, lured by the sight of the blades of the wind turbines (which looked tantalising close but - like the moon - are actually always the same distance away wherever you are).

The stretch of beach that I came out on was like a wasteland, devoid of people but with a line of debris next to the dunes that disappeared into the distance - wheels, road signs, rubber gloves (so many rubber gloves!), trees, gas cylinders, on and on and on. The whole scene was reminiscent of something from the film "Addicted to Plastic" - with the oddest sight being this collection of odd shoes:

I'm guessing that I walked past at least a mile of junk before I finally reached Formby Point, footsore and ready for something to eat. I figured that I would walk to the station and get a train back to my starting point near Crosby, but even that turned out to be less than straightforward - the police had closed off the access road to investigate a fire-bombed building (I've since read that it was the result of an arson attack on a restaurant).

Eventually however I made it back to Crosby beach for high tide and a last look at the figures before heading home. It was a long day and more than a little surreal in several places - to be honest the desolate beach with washed up junk was probably the strangest, and my pictures from there don't convey even a fraction of what it was really like. But it was certainly a memorable trip and I'm glad that I went.

See my pictures of the Gormley figures, wind turbines, debris and other stuff on Flickr.

Swimming at Hathersage

Today was a wonderful hot and sunny day and so I went out for a swim in the outdoor pool in the village of Hathersage. It takes about 45 minutes to get there (via Sheffield) but the pool itself is only a couple of minutes walk from the station.

I didn't take any pictures inside the pool (I wish I had asked now) but you can see what it looks like from the Hathersage swimming pool website. There's a set of changing cubicles next to a lawn and a bandstand on one side of the pool and a small covered grandstand on the other. The water itself is nicely heated and there are views of the surrounding hills (Stanage Edge is nearby and clearly visible) as you swim. The great thing about swimming in an outdoor pool on a day like today is being able to see blue blue sky above and the sunlight dappled on the tiles below. (The thing that I always forget about swimming in an outdoor pool is that you're also liable to get slightly sunburned.)

After an hour's swim I went to the pool cafe and sat outside under a parasol eating a toasted cheese and onion sandwich, extremely tasty and served with a little salad that included apple and kiwi fruit and very nice colesaw. While I sat there a cat wandered between the different customers looking for some love and attention. It was a nice way to spend lunchtime.

With around an hour left before my train back to Sheffield I asked the waitress at the cafe if there was anywhere nearby that I could walk to. She recommended going to see Little John's grave at St Michaels church, which turned out to be a great tip - it was only a short walk to the churchyard, with great views over the hills (and also some cows, which I think Kyle would have enjoyed), and the grave was quite easy to find (it appears to have a parking meter next to it, but on closer inspection this turned out to be for donations to maintain the church and grounds).

The journey back was quite uneventful (really, the best kind of train journey to have). The Hathersage pool is really nice and I really hopefully there will be an another opportunity to swim there again later in the summer.

Sunsetting

Yesterday evening I went out walking for a few hours around Frodsham with my friend Ronan. It was a nice evening after a very hot sunny day and we followed a section of the Sandstone Trail which rises above the town and through the woods. There's about 30 miles of trail in all but we probably only did 3 miles before we had to turn back.

The great thing about this time of year is how long the days last, and so on the way back we were treated to a beautiful sunset over Liverpool, from the top of the hill above Frodsham that overlooks the Mersey Estuary. We were surprised to come across a whole group of people taking photos with some very expensive-looking pieces of camera equipement (there are more of my own pictures on Flickr). Fingers crossed that we get another chance to walk the trail later in the summer!

Cake

On a whim this afternoon I decided I would have a go at making banana bread out of the mouldy-looking bananas left in my fruit bowl (too soft to eat "raw", even for me). I considered just throwing them out but I'm haunted by reports that as a nation the British throw away around a third of the food they buy, and I don't want to become just another statistic.

The recipe that I've been using for a few years now is neatly written in my best schoolboy handwriting on a page torn from an old notebook - I think it must date from when I did "home ec" at secondary school. (I sometimes wonder how profound an influence the random choice of home economics and Latin, rather than woodwork and metalwork, has been on my later life.) Later someone rather pompously told me that the recipe is actually cake and not bread, but I've since forgotten what the distinction is.

Anyways this effort came out ok on the outside but a bit undercooked in the middle (I used a skewer to test whether it was cooked inside but probably in future a knife would be better). As this has happened before I've wondered a few times if the cake tin I have is the wrong shape somehow, or else maybe I need to cook it at a lower temperature for longer. Or maybe I put too much banana in it. Or all of the above.

It's not too bad with a cup of tea (especially as I like my cakes to be a bit moist), however I'm not sure that I'll be offering anyone else a piece of this one - maybe next time.

Wonderful Horrible Life

A couple of nights ago I finally watched "The Wonderful Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl" on DVD. Riefenstahl was a remarkable woman - born in Germany in 1902, she was by turns a dancer, actress, mountaineer, pioneering film director and photographer, who learned to scuba dive at the age of 70 and died in 2003 aged 101. I first read about her a few years ago in Charles Sprawston's cultural history of swimming "The Haunts of the Black Masseur", in a section where he talks about the incredible diving sequences she filmed for her own documentary about the 1936 Berlin Olympics (they are amazing to watch even now).

The most controversial part of Riefenstahl's life however was her involvement with Hitler and the Nazis during the 1930s and 40s. She famously made a film of the 1934 Nazi party congress ("Triumph of the Will") and continued to work during the war. She later claimed ignorance of the Nazi atrocities, and was determined to be a "fellow traveller" rather than a Nazi activist by post-war tribunals, but her film career was effectively finished after the war and she was vilified as "Hitler's film-maker" for the rest of her life.

The film is principally based around interviews with Riefenstahl (aged around 90 at the time) by the director Ray Mueller as he talks to her about these various episodes of her life. It's fascinating to see how in spite of her age her mind was still very active - especially when she is arguing with Mueller and his crew about how to shoot a particular sequence, recalling the technical details of shooting her films in the 30s, or reviewing underwater footage that she had shot earlier in the day. She seemed to light up when talking about editing machinery, film stock and camera angles - and in that regard she appears basically to have been what you might now call "a complete geek".

I think that the tight focus on Riefenstahl to some extent obscures the broader picture, though there is some attempt to contextualise the films with her life especially during the Nazi era (the account of her life after the war is disappointingly vague). To his credit Mueller does ask some direct questions about her past, but I felt like the documentary as a whole shied away from really challenging the view that she puts forward. The picture that emerged for me was of someone who wanted desperately and above all else to make her films, and didn't want to engage with the reality of her times. This self-delusion is the most troubling part of her story (and is elaborated on in an excellent review at Bright Lights Film Journal).

What is clear though is that she was a truly gifted and innovative film maker, pioneering techniques (for example the use of cranes and tracking shots) that have since become commonplace. One of the joys of "Wonderful Horrible Life..." is having the opportunity to see the beautiful footage that she shot (some of it previously unseen), and based on this the comparisons with Orson Welles and Alfred Hitchcock don't seem inappropriate (all the more impressive for a woman working in a male industry). Ultimately though her involvement with the Nazis - whatever the truth of it - is likely to always colour the perception of her life and work: wonderful horrible life indeed.

Get the buzz

A few weeks ago I saw a TV programme called Who Killed the Honey Bee? about the recent and worrying decline of honey bees around the world. Bees of all kinds are the principal pollinator of plants on Earth (including most of the food crops that people depend upon) so the loss of bees would be an unimaginable disaster.

The TV programme visited various places looking for the cause of the decline - various possible culprits were suggested, including loss of diverse habitats from crop monocultures, increases in the use of pesticides and parasitic diseases, but the blame couldn't be pinned firmly on any one cause and it seems most likely that it's a combination of all these factors.

I was reminded of this because over the last couple of days while out in my weed-infested yard, I've noticed a couple of bees visiting the we- er, flowers, there. I don't know where they come from to get to my "garden" (apparently they routinely travel 2 miles, but will fly up to 6) and also these are actually bumblebees, but according to this Guardian article Ten Things to Do to Help Honeybees, I'm doing the right thing (at Kyle's prompting): number 3 is "plant your garden with bee friendly plants." And I guess that as shabby as my own contribution is, I still feel a little pride now that it's doing the bees some small good.

Bzzzzt!

The Inconstant Gardener

I don't have a garden, I just have a paved yard. When I first moved here it looked like a bit of a sterile environment, and I remember I had this idea that I would get some big stone or terracotta pots and have some flowers to brighten it up.

Unfortunately I never got around to it, for various reasons. I'm not a natural with growing things (although I had some success one year with tomatoes), especially things that flower - maybe part of the problem is that I don't really like getting my hands dirty. Also someone warned me that the pots need regular watering, which was a problem since I was frequently away.

However every year it seems the yard takes on a life of its own, as some extremely tenancious plants appear each spring clinging to the most precarious toe-holds, and it's become a garden of sorts. They may be weeds, but they're my weeds! While it's not exactly the Chelsea Flower Show, the small flowers do have their own charm, and sometimes there are some surprises (such as the purple flowers above - I have no idea what they are, by the way).

Usually after a few weeks I reluctantly go out and pull them all up - they're not supposed to there after all, and I doubt that the landlord would approve. However when I told Kyle about it this year, she made a succint plea for clemency:

"i think your garden is fine, let your flowers be--they have gone through a lot to be where they are now."

which seems like a fair point. So for this summer I'm going to let them be, and just enjoy the view.

New shoes

So, I finally bought myself some new running shoes today. Pretty nice, huh? My current pair have been doing stalwart duty for the last 200 years (ok, last 8 years more realistically but that's still about 7 years longer than you're supposed to use them) so it's hardly an extravagance.

I went to Up and Running in Manchester, since I'd heard that they do "gait analysis" to help you choose the right shoes, and I was curious to know what this actually involves. It turns out that you put on a pair of shoes, get on a treadmill and then run for maybe a minute while your feet and lower legs are filmed by a little video camera. Afterwards the salesperson reviews the footage (no pun intended) with you on a laptop, and explains what's happening and what sort of shoe might be best.

First off I tried a "neutral" shoe (one with no special support). Looking at the footage the guy thought that I might benefit from a shoe with some extra support as my feet seemed to be "rolling out" a little bit too far at the end of the stride (I think that this is "overpronation" or "supination" - there's a nice simple explanation at Runnersworld). This seemed to be particularly pronounced on the left foot, which is interesting since when I've observed myself running at the gym I do seem to turn my left foot out (I'm hoping that over time Alexander Technique will help me reduce that somewhat). With the support the rolling out seemed to be reduced.

I tried some different brands and ultimately settled on the Asics shoe (GT 2140 if you want to know the gory details), which is the same make as the ones I have already. As the sales guy said, if you know that you like them already then it's a good bet. I'm always a little unsure going into shops to buy "technical" products when I don't really know my stuff, but I really enjoyed the low-key low-pressure approach.

They will need some breaking in I gather. However, hopefully having new shoes will make running a bit easier on the old pins, as well as providing some extra incentive to keep my running up through the year. Wish me luck!