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Tunisia part three. Out of the desert

Day two of our sojourn and after a sound sleep in a comfortable bed we were awakened at 5-30 by the early morning call for breakfast. I mean who the hell goes away on holiday to be roused from a fitful slumber at 5-30am apart from a bunch of sadists? After a continental breakfast with lots of hard boiled eggs, croissants and copious quantities of coffee to wake us up we boarded the bus for a 6-30am departure. Just after sunrise we crossed the salt plains of what was once a salt water lake.  Some of the enterprising Bedouins and Tuaregs have created small stalls selling everything from pictures of the desert to desert roses and refreshments. I had to admire their ingenuity to entice people in. One of them had a large piece of plywood atop his stall with the legend “cheaper than a tip” emblazoned across it. Many of them have created sculptures out of the salt and decorated them with flags and artefacts just to get tourists to stop. They are truly fascinating and I had to salute the ingenuity of people who could make travellers stop in the middle of nowhere.

Our next stop was at an oasis. As Eddy the tour guide informed us most people think of an Oasis as a watering hole with three palm trees and a couple of camels. This was a thriving town and had built up because of the fact that there was water readily available. BC and me climbed aboard a horse and cart and were taken for a ride along the outskirts of the oasis to see the touristy bits. When we arrived back and dismounted the Tunisian minister for Tourism has arrived and there was a traditional band playing in his honour. Trust me the tune will not cause Itunes to crash with heavy demand for this number. Apart from drums the main instrument seemed to be a bagpipe made from a camel’s bladder.

Once back aboard the bus we continued across yet more miles of sand and through small towns. On the road and going through these small towns many things stick out, such as the butchers that had sheep hanging from the stalls, freshly slaughtered and the blood dripping from their throats across the pavement and into the road. What seemed particularly sadistic were the pens of sheep waiting in turn to be slaughtered while peering at the carcasses of the freshly killed. One butcher had a camels head hanging from a hook on his stall. It was sheer delight for some one like me who likes to spit roast stuff but not for the more squeamish on board. The second thing you notice is the amount of people selling petrol on the roadside from plastic containers. Petrol in Tunisia is expensive and low quality. Tankers driving in from Libya and Algeria where good quality petrol is not a problem will readily “lose” a few gallons to the enterprising horde who sell it on to passing motorists, at a reduced and tax free rate. Less palatable are innumerable small fires and heaps of burning rubbish which tend to compensate for the fact that it is hard to get a bin wagon into the desert.

We stopped in the middle of nowhere amid a sandstorm that stung our eyes and awaited the 16’s. These are 4X4 vehicles which the Tunisians cunningly call 16’s. We were to be split up into groups and taken out into the desert in these off road vehicles and driven into some of the harsher terrain. Again words fail me to accurately describe how beautiful this landscape is and herds of camel wander freely in the sands. After a bumpy ride we stopped at an Oasis in the middle of nowhere or to be precise in the middle of the Atlas Mountains. This was used for the film set of the English Patient and it is truly stunning. It has a large waterfall and this flows into a river that heads off into the sands and feeds some of the watering holes. After photos and coffee it was back into the 16’s to return to the bus.

From here we drove to Matmata to see the Troglodytes. These are cave dwellers and their homes are carved out of the rocks and sand. They choose to live this lifestyle and while few have running water many have satellite dishes and there is often a four by four off road vehicle parked out of site. I had mixed emotions about this lifestyle. True it is their choice and some are really poor. But it was the bus load of tourists that traipsed through their homes for a handful of coins that got to me. I wondered if I could cope with a several busloads of people stopping outside of my house each day to walk through it. The old guy who posed for me looked as though he hardly knew what day it was and maybe he did not need to but I felt as though he and his family had been reduced to mere zoo exhibits.

The trip was memorable for many reasons but several images will be ingrained within me for life. One was of a Bedouin dressed in national tribesman outfit with sun burnt features and heavily lined face. He looked resplendent as he strode out of a café, his dagger glinting in the sun and I expected him to mount a nearby camel and stride off majestically into the sands. It was therefore a huge disappointment to see him climb into a four by four and drive off in a cloud of dust and petrol fumes!

I was so relieved when the tour ended, not because I wanted to go back but I had spent hours on a coach seat and had travelled 800 miles in just under 38 hours. I am glad I took the tour. I may never get to do it again and if I was I am sure I would hire an off road vehicle and spend a few days to do it instead of cramming it all in to a short time frame.

 

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Tunisia Part two. Into the desert

BC and me quickly decided that the easiest if not the best way to see some of Tunisia was to take one of the many organised tours. As arranged the bus arrived at the unearthly time of 6pm and we boarded for a two day jaunt into the Sahara, aptly described by the tour guide as the biggest beach in the world. Our first stop was at the coliseum, described by Eddy as the biggest coliseum in the world outside of Rome. There is a lot of restoration work going on in the building and consequently it is the best preserved and most complete roman coliseum in the world and I found it fascinating and could have spent much more time there than we were actually allowed. This produced out first problem. Trying to please everyone on a tour bus of 50 odd people with mixed interests is not going to be easy. Some people saw the ruins as merely a building site that was not finished while others were genuinely fascinated. This set the tone for the next two days as the entourage was split into the “we have spent too long looking at that rubbish” and the “I could have stayed there all day” camps.

The next stop after many hours of looking at thousands and thousands of Olive trees along a long and unchanging landscape of sand and tarmac was for coffee and a brief escape from the bus. In no time we were back onboard and heading out to see some of the landscape that featured in the Star wars film. The scenery is truly stunning and the photos do not do it any justice at all. I would have loved to have spent the night out there just to be able to look up into the sky and see the stars. Next stop was the set from where Young Anakin Skywalkers home was set in Matama. Again I could have stayed there all day as it has been turned into a hotel and a bar and you can book an overnight stay.

After more coffee, olive trees and sand we arrived at a well used tourist destination, the Camel rides. Here we dressed in Arab garb and traditional headdress. I settled on the headdress only as I did not fancy the Wee Willie Winky Nightshirt that was offered to me. The choice of transportation was between climbing aboard a camel or as we opted, a more sedate ride in a horse and cart. I have been on a camel before and my memories are of bad tempered beasts, who can blame them and a very uncomfortable experience hanging on for dear life. I did not want to repeat this and it seemed BC did not fancy the idea either. We set off with our guide and “Trigger” faithfully hauling us across the sand. Again the scenery is both stunning and stark at the same time. There are a lot of ruins out in the desert that have given way to the shifting sands and have consequently been swallowed up with rooftops and crumbling walls poking out of the sand. The idea was to watch the sun go down and enjoy the sunset but a sandstorm whipped up and while the view was magnificent the photographs did not turn out as well as I had hoped. All too soon it was time to turn around, head back and board the bus.

By now it was dark and every one on the bus was feeling tetchy and irritable, we had after all been travelling for some 13 hours before we pulled up into the hotel at the end of day one. It was tiring but enjoyable and I wished I had more time to explore some of the scenery that took in but as it was it was a memorable trip into the desert.

 

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Tunisia Part 1

BC and myself arrived at Monastir airport at around 8pm on Xmas eve. After the usual trawl through immigration and customs it was onto the bus to take us to our hotel and we finally got there at around 11pm. It was Xmas day before we had the chance to look at the hotel and the facilities but we at least had a room on the ground floor over looking the beach and by 10-30am I was lying by the pool with a gin and tonic in my hand. The hotel and the facilities would have been fantastic for a family holiday in the summer time and there is enough to keep kids amused all day and plenty for them to eat and drink from 7-30 til midnight.

However BC and me are not a family and as it was winter three of the bars were closed and we decided to get out of the hotel and look around. The first thing I noticed was the groups of men all over the place. They do not seem to be doing anything other than standing and chatting and of course smoking which like Greece is the national pastime. The second thing is that there are no women to be seen. I do not know if the men keep them in little boxes in the house and only let them out on special occasions but I saw very few.

This may not sound like a big deal but as a couple walking past coffee bars and not seeing any women at all it is a little off putting and made me feel intimidated enough to not take BC into any of the cafes we passed. To do this you have to go into the main towns and get amongst the tourists. This in itself is fraught with problems of beggars and people persisting that they know you from your hotel and can show you around. What this means is they drag you into shops owned by relatives or friends for commission on any sales made.

Going for a drink is another problem and although no holiday should consist of mere drinking in the sun, it is at least a very large part of what I go away to do. Tunisia is a Muslim country and therefore dry. There are very few bars and when you can find one they are relatively expensive. Johnny Walker black label cost around 3 pound a shot here but over there it is 9 pounds a shot if you can find it. Walking around the large towns is fine but in the small villages you really should go in groups. It is not that it is unsafe but it can be really intimidating to have groups of children pester you for dinars. You have to remember that to them we are seen as really wealthy Europeans who have more money than they will ever earn in several lifetimes.

Of course this is all relative, it does not matter how much money you have if you have to shell out as much as you bring in. Their food is a lot cheaper and rates and water rates and such things do not exist, but they still see you as filthy rich and therefore able to give money away. I initially felt sorry for these kids but after a few days of being constantly pestered any feelings of sorrow vanished and I thought this is the government’s concern not mine and any benevolence towards them was replaced with anger. I can see beggars and ne’er do wells in my own country I do not have to travel over a thousand miles to see it.

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Burning rubber and cat piss

It is over a week since I returned from my holiday and it seems like a lifetime away. The weather is cold and the skies are for the most at least still grey. However I do feel a lot better than at the same time last year. The winter break has done me the world of good and I am sure I will be going away at Christmas for the foreseeable future. As usual at this time of year I have splashed out on a load of goodies and my credit card is screaming. I have bought mainly travelling gear and some pieces of what I deem as essential kit for Rhonda.

Seeing as Rhonda has not been out for a few weeks I pulled the covers off her and fired her up. She started after a few stabs of the button and within a few minutes we were flying down the highways and byways without a care in the world. It was at this point I noticed a distinct odour emanating from the engine. It was a truly disgusting smell and one I recognised but could not a put a name to. It was akin to burning rubber and sulphur. Slightly alarmed I stopped to see if any thing obvious was amiss. Not being able to detect anything I carried on and returned home and recovered the bike.

My garden is not really big enough to put another shed into it and I do not have a garage. Rhonda is therefore covered up in a waterproof cover and wrapped in swaddling to keep her warm and relatively rust free. I have enough security chains on her to tie up a medium size battle ship and she is as secure as I can make her. As I was putting the covers on, I noticed a lot of holes in the fabric of the cover and on inspection decided they looked distinctly like cat claw puncture marks. I also notice some paw marks on the pillion seat and the truth dawned on me.

Being warm and waterproof, the local cats have been using Rhonda as a place to doss down in the cold and wet weather. As competition for places have obviously been limited they have been spraying my beloved motorbike to mark their territory in an attempt to keep other cats away. I have to assume the main culprit is Genghis and he has been spraying to let other cats know this is his pad.

Exactly what has been going through his tiny fur covered mind I do not know. I would like to think he has just been keeping guard on my property and making himself cosy in the process but as cats are not exactly renowned for their altruism I suspect this train of thought may have less than a grain of truth in it. I will probably have to rearrange the garden to accommodate a shed of some size to place my bike in. One thing is for sure I not going to tolerate for much longer the smell of burning rubber and cat piss. 

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Happy New year 2009

Regular readers will have noticed a lack of posts for the last few weeks. This is because I have been away and only returned in the early hours of January the 9th. Where have I been? on holiday in Tunisia. Yes, I decided to get away from all of the hustle and bustle of the festivities, the endless turkey sandwiches and the copious amounts of dishwashing for two glorious weeks in the sunshine. How did it go you may ask? Well enough to give me sufficient material for 4 maybe 5 posts in the travel section of this blog with oodles of photos.  Needless to say Christmas day was spent lounging around the hotel pool with several Gin and Tonics. New years Eve saw me diving into the pool on the stroke of midnight and running around the beach stark naked at 2am but that is another story!

What have I come back to? Well the first shock is the weather. The second is a mountain of junk mail and a cat that no longer recognises me and is so fickle he has turned his attentions to Roger Moor and his family. Indeed it is going to take a few days to remind Genghis that this is my house not his and that the bed belongs to me and not him. I feel better than I have done in a long time and the winter blues have for the moment at least melted away. The news papers tell a different story though and little seems to have changed since I left. The world is not a brighter place and seems hell bent on destruction. Israel, rightly or wrongly, appears to filling out the prophecies of Neville Shutes’ novel “On The Beach “. It can surely only be a matter of time before other nations decide to take sides and act accordingly. The UN seems impotent to send in troops and stop the slaughter and retaliation on both sides.

The economy is still in freefall and the Daily Mail displayed only yesterday the headline “Let’s print more money”. This would suggest that the government no longer has enough assets, liquid or fixed to cover its debts. It all seems a far cry from the Gold Standard many nations used as a basis for printing money between the late 19th century and the early 20th century. In short what this meant was that each nation had to have enough gold to cover the amount of money it had in circulation. To the man in the street this equates to having assets or savings to at least the value of what you owe. When the day comes that you owe more than you are worth, have no means of obtaining any more and your creditors ask for their money back then you become bankrupt. Governments however can simply print more money but you only have to look at Zimbabwe to see what happens when you do. To compare it would be like you or me attempting to pay our Visa card bills with bottle tops. Foreign countries will simply stop accepting payments in sterling because the notes are worthless. It is a simply ludicrous situation for our government to be in.

It merely remains for me to hope that things get better in the coming 12 months and to wish everyone a very happy new year 2009.

 

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A merry Xmas and may your god go with you

You can tell Xmas is just around the corner, houses are ablaze with lights and festive decorations. In fact it would be hard to believe there is a credit crunch and sky high energy prices when I look at some of the lighting festooned on the outside of some of the houses near Chateau Ghastanbury.  I have never been a true believer in Xmas as regular readers will know however it is a cheering sight to see so many bright illuminations in these dark times.  Talking of dark times the mercury is falling and it took me 20 minutes to defrost the car and scrape the ice off the windows before I could go to work the other morning. How I envy my friends in southern Europe and the southern hemisphere right now.

I have noticed a distinct lack of writings from some of my fellow bloggers, indeed one or two blogs have disappeared altogether. Maybe it is the times we live in that no one has anything cheerful to say and so just give up. I have suffered from Bloggers Write myself a few times in the past 3 months. Nothing of any significance happens or there is so much of it you do not know where to start. By now just about every one in the civilised world must know that the monetary system of the planet is on the verge of collapse. Jobs are being lost and many of my friends will be soon be joining the long queues at the benefits office. I wish them all well and a speedy return to the workplace with as little loss of dignity as possible in the meantime.

On the bright side, the winter solstice is only a few days away and that means more sunshine and shorter nights. Autumn will be over and winter will arrive shortly to be replaced with spring and the start of the barbecue season. It is one of the few things there are to look forward to at the moment. I have resigned myself to staying in the UK for at least another 2 years and may have to admit that I will never leave. Economists are predicting that the recession will start to level out some time in 2010 and maybe, just maybe a recovery will take place within four years of that. At that rate I would be close to 60 and probably too old to do the things I want to do. This news has been met with cheers by some of my friends because I may not be leaving and they will still get to see me on a regular basis. Those who have left understand the disappointment I feel at the prospect of having to stay here in the UK.

Now as gloomy as this seems, I am truly lucky compared to others. I received news last week that two people I know have fell upon disastrous times. One has had a stroke and has been in a coma for over a month and the other has been diagnosed with cancer. It is not looking good for either of these two. My sympathies and best wishes go out to both of them and their loved ones.

I made the decision last early on in the year that I did not want to spend another Xmas here in the UK and consequently booked a holiday to Tunisia for me and the Bean Counter. On Xmas day I hope to be drinking a toast to absent friends as I tuck into my dinner of couscous and a sheep’s head. Here’s to all my friends and family. A merry Xmas and may your god go with you.

 

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intereo mortalitas?

Ok lets get the bad news out of the way. The economy is in a terrible mess, the housing market has fell through the floor, companies are crashing by the minute and jobs are being lost on a spectacular scale. The weather is cold grey and foggy, terrorist attacks all over the world are increasing and most of the people I know are feeling lower than at any time I can remember. I have as I write, a raging hangover and the housework is piling up.  You would wonder what there is to write about!

Well even in these uncertain and gloomy times there are a few rays of sunshine about. For instance Commander Riker and me have gone on a health kick. We have finally come to realise that chips with tomato sauce do not count as two of your five portions of veg a day. With this in mind I went shopping for our dinner one day last week during our lunch break. I came back with a bag of fried chicken for protein, a couple of steak pies for carbohydrates and a salad box filled with tuna and pasta covered in salad cream to give it some flavour. The only thing that could have made this healthy wholesome dinner even better was to wash it down with a couple of pints of ice cold Becks but as we were both in work we declined. I have also discovered that a glass of fresh orange juice with juicy bits in it counts as one portion of your five a day. This means that five glasses of Gin and orange a day should have me in the peak of condition very soon! If only my chief partner in crime and best drinking buddy, the Tiler was here then we could support the flagging drinks industry, put more money in the chancellor’s coffers and become healthy.

News arrived from the Traveller who is working in Oz and he is settling in very nicely. He is due to come home in January for a few weeks; boy is he in for a shock. Captain Pugwash rang me the other night; it was the first time I have spoken to him in almost six months. I can report he is in rude health and we are going to meet up one night during the coming week. The Beancounter and I are going along to Sophia Loren’s house for an advent meal. If it is anything like the meal she prepared for Lent then my whole health kick is going to go out of the window within a matter of days. Speaking of which I  have managed to tidy up a lot of the photo’s that SL gave to me  from Halloween and as soon as time allows I will put them in the gallery with a link to them. I will also try and tidy up some of the many photos taken from Bonfire night and do the same.

Last Night Roger Moor arrived with a bottle of Jim Beam (it is the reason I have a hangover). I could not let the poor man drink it all by himself and so with my help we dispensed of the said bottle. During an evening of talking bollocks about a great range of topics we ventured onto English grammar and particularly the use of the apostrophe. It has appeared to me that the use of correct grammar has sadly declined and just two of the many reasons are the use of text speak and the Microsoft dictionary. This then begs the question should we bother at all with the apostrophe? Very few people get it right and even when you do Microsoft tells you it isn’t. It is actually a hot topic with many younger people dispensing with it altogether and a lot of English teachers sadly shaking heads. My guess is that it will die out within a couple of generations with only scholars using it, a bit like Latin. No one uses it anymore except for professionals who like to slip in the odd phrase to make then seem more knowledgeable than the average prole. In short it will die a death or possibly intereo mortalitas.

 

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They would not do it again would they?

It’s been a fairly hectic past two weeks, starting off with a Halloween party and barbecue in the garden. This was fairly well attended with all the usual suspects, Bean Counter, The Beast, now known as The Animal due to the discovery of certain unpleasant connotations associated with that name, Sophia Loren and her mum and Roger Moor. Bowls of chilli, stew and a stream of burgers were rustled up by Commander Riker and Ted Magnum to feed the hordes. The photographs would have been brilliant save for the smoke from the fire pit and barby.

Fast forward a few days and it appeared as though the world was on tenterhooks awaiting the outcome of the most powerful man in the world, the incoming president of America. He is the first black man to become the new resident in chief of the Whitehouse, Barrack Oboma. This was followed the next evening by our very own tradition of Bonfire night in which we Brits celebrate the failed attempt to blow up the houses of parliament in 1605. Who knows what the world would have looked like if Guy Fawkes and his co-conspirators had of succeeded. However the Ghastanbury posse celebrated in style with an enormous bonfire and enough fireworks and explosives to start a small war in Central America and of course heaps of food and the odd beer or two. Congratulations to RM and his other half for a fantastic spread.

The Driver came to see me on Saturday gone and he stayed for a couple of nights while we put the world to rights. That brings me up to today which as we all know is the anniversary of the end of the Great War. There are only three men left alive in the UK that fought in that terrible conflict. Who knows how much longer we will be fortunate enough to have their company as living reminders of mans inhumanity to man and the ultimate triumph of good over evil?

Whilst watching the commemorations on TV I started thinking about world events today and the similarities with 96 years ago, two years before the start of World War 1. Europe was in the grip of a financial meltdown with right wing parties across Europe vying for power and the arms race that ensued allowing countries to take part in the war. It is not hard to see the comparisons with the 1930’s. Financial meltdown, particularly bad in Germany due to the terms of the Versai treaty, the rise of the far right in Europe, Franco, Hitler, Mussolini and mass production of ordnance and armaments in Germany.

Now let us stop for a moment and look at early years of the 21st century. Worlwide financial meltdown, an insurgence of the far right in Europe and whilst not yet a threat they are certainly growing. The comparisons are not favourable, but, with all we have learned from the last 100 years, they would not do it again would they?

 

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Glamping

Château Ghastanbury has at times resembled grand central station with so many people arriving and phoning over the last few weeks. I am not grumbling mind but it is one of the reasons for so few blog entries of late. As usual many things have got my goat recently, not least the fact that ticket touts inflate the prices of tickets required by Joe Public. For example, last week tickets for the ACDC Black Ice Tour went on sale at 9am. By 9-20am the box office for the venues had sold out and only promotion companies had any for sale at all. My usual port of call, “master of tickets” (made up name naturally) was selling tickets with a face value of £40 for almost £180 each and merely one hour after being on sale.

This represents an absolutely monstrous profit but worse still is the fact that so many vendors had managed to obtain tickets at short notice at the expense of Joe Public. When will tickets be sold to the people that actually want to buy them and isn’t it about time that concert tickets, like airline tickets had to be purchased with some form of identity and that identity shown when entering the arena? Such a simple action would at a stroke stop profiteers from buying tickets they have no intention of using to sell on ebay or to unscrupulous touts who wish to make an obscene profit from honest fans. I have no problem with people making a profit from a commodity that supply far outstrips demand for but touts and tickets agencies are up there with solicitors and estate agents and I suppose these day’s bankers. Vultures with a human face!

There is almost a happy ending; I managed to acquire tickets in the end but not for any venue in this country. With tickets for the MEN going for £180 each it was cheaper to buy tickets for Paris with a night’s accommodation thrown in. The cost of the tickets for Paris? £179 each. It has taken some time to warm to the new Album from ACDC with the tour of  the same name but I am getting there. There is not one track that leaps out and grabs you with the same ferocity that “Whole lotta Rosie” did nor “Back in black” to name a few but the whole album is starting to grow on me. By the day of the concert I expect to know them word perfect.

Summer has finally bowed out and the clocks have gone back bringing short days and long nights. Sadly it has been accompanied by a dramatic drop in temperatures and for the first time in what seems like ages I have had to switch on my central heating. Naturally such actions have had me turning green with envy at the thought of friends far away in sunnier climes. Friends of over 20 years standing have recently moved to Spain to run a coffe bar in Camposol Spain. It is called the Costa Café and Tearoom and naturally it based in Camposol on the east cost of Southern Spain. As soon as I obtain more details I will post them here for any one who wants to pop in and try the menu. I wish them all the best and if you are in the area and passing, pop in and let the hard working staff behind the counter know Smokehouse sent you. The Traveller is now working in Oz and from the sounds of it may well obtain an extended work permit and perhaps a living permit. Will I ever see him again? Who knows but if our positions were reversed I would not be coming back!

The big news is that I am to become a great uncle. Well not exactly, but Little Miss Sunshine’s daughter is pregnant and as I am an honorary uncle to the daughter it follows I would a great uncle to granddaughter. I wish both mother and daughter the very best and all that they would wish for themselves. It never ceases to amaze me how many nephews and nieces I have. I seem to be the black sheep of the family, the one who is spoken about in whispered voices and never in front of the children! My extended family grows by the day.

Desperate times require desperate measures and the current economic situation has thrown what plans I had into complete disarray, so much so that I have taken to looking at alternative lifestyles and accommodation. With this in mind I have booked a short stay in a Yurt some time in the summer months of 2009. As well as being a break it will give me a chance to see if these dwellings live up to the reputation of the Mongols as being somewhere you can live in for years, completely waterproof and capable of withstanding temperatures of minus 35c whilst having a life span of 20 years or more.  In short a glamorous tent which has coined the phrase Glamping.

 

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After all even fish have feelings

Roger Moor and his family are back from a long well deserved weekend break. During the time RM was away it was left to me to look after his goldfish. While I was feeding the little fella his ant eggs, I started to think about how this guy spent his time. I mean can’t be that exciting swimming around the same old bowl everyday and going nowhere can it? So in order to brighten up his day I took him outside and let him loose in my garden pond. Having a bigger stage in which to strut his stuff, certainly suited him and within minutes he was swimming around like a dolphin in the ocean.

A bit later I put him back in his bowl and brought him indoors and placed the bowl in front of the TV screen. Bean Counter poured a large gin into his bowl and I set up what I thought would be a really interesting film for him. Naturally it was Jaws. What could be better than relaxing on a Saturday night with a stiff drink and watching a blockbuster film? Then after the film was finished I offered him a slap up meal with a choice of a tin of sardines, a tin of salmon and some tinned shrimps. By now the little guy was feeling tired so we took him back into RM’s house and BC read him a bedtime story. What could be more fitting after his hectic day than listening to a chapter or two of Moby Dick?

The Traveller texted me on Saturday morning to say he has finally arrived in sunny Malaysia and is set to venture to Australia in the very near future. I wish him well, it would appear I have more friends and relatives over there than I do at home! The weather is finally turning and the leaves are falling off the trees. What has been good though is the fine weather we have had over the last couple of weeks. Sunday gone was an exceptional day and I used it to take Rhonda and BC for a spin. It’s just a pity that the good weather is five months late! Sunday evening came and we ventured to see The Beast and we ended up having a small bonfire in his garden. All in all it has been a great weekend, one that I won’t forget in a hurry and I am sure that the fish wont either. After all even fish have feelings.