Not quite a postcard from Malta

As the first month of 2012 is coming to an end I thought it was about time that I put fingers to keyboard and wish everyone a happy New Year.

As some of you know since my last entry in October we have been away quite a lot.

First we went to Cyprus, in November, to visit the Gilberts in Paphos including a week of doing absolutely nothing on the beach at Coral Bay. In fact I spent most of the week soaking up the sun and looking at my feet!

Paphos is a very easy going and relaxed place to live. For some locals however, it appears to be too boring – see this article from the Cyprus Mail of November 17th 2011.

Man Jailed for blasting co-worker’s rectum with air compressor

A CARPENTER’S assistant blasted pressurised air up his friend’s rectum, rupturing his large intestine, “because he was seeking a pleasant change that would break the monotony of hard work”, a Nicosia court has heard.

The foreign EU national, a 31 year old father of two, was jailed for 45 days last week after admitting that in October last year he had seriously injured his friend who required surgery and a lengthy stay in hospital to recover.

“The defendant’s idea to administer pressurised air into his friend’s anus is indeed original and in reality the thought of it provokes laughter, but putting the idea into practice ended up in tragedy for the victim and perpetrator,” the court said.

In the words of my dear old Mum, “Well I never, whatever next?” Indeed the mind boggles.

Moving swiftly on, at the beginning of December I met up again with the Welsh Bard. Together with John Garner, an old chum and colleague, we spent the day with Evans Above in a selection of pubs in Oxford. It was the first time the three of us had had a drink together for the best part of 35 years and a thoroughly good time was had by all.

At Christmas we spent three days with the family, staying at Lorna’s over the festive period before having 5 one night stays along the South coast, calling at Brighton, Eastbourne, Hastings and Rye finishing with New Years Eve back in Hastings.

Most notable was sharing a restaurant with John Altman (Nick Cotton from Eastenders) who was starring as the Sheriff of Nottingham in the Eastbourne pantomime, a very confusing hour trying to make sense out of an Andy Warhol exhibition at the De la Warr Pavillion in Bexhill (why are these “paintings so valuable?”) -

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-15039178,

and a much more interesting hour at an exhibition of original cartoons and scenes by the late John Ryan creator of Captain Pugwash, Harris Tweed Special Agent, Lettice Leefe and Sir Prancealot etc, at the Rye Art Gallery.

If you ever find yourself in Eastbourne looking for somewhere to stay, try this:

http://www.thebigsleephotel.com/home.asp?hotelid=4

It’s very modern in design, comfortable, cheap and the bar is open all night. The only downside is that it is owned by film actor John Malkovitch and there is a photograph of him above the bed in every room of the hotel. He is weird at the best of times but this photo was not taken on one of his good days.

Relating these experiences to the Welsh bard inspired this response:

Baltzer is one of those loons
Whose mornings, and some afternoons,
Are spent on the plot,
And when they are not,
He studies the phases of moons.

But, though he’s a crazy old fart,
He’s concealing a cultural heart...
He apparently swoons
Over Pugwash cartoons,
And claims Andy Warhol’s not art.

He’s not Brian Sewell, for sure,
But the art world deserves to hear more,
And soon we may see
ChrisB on TV...
So that’s what the pony tail’s for!

Finally, earlier this month we had a week in Malta staying all-inclusive in a hotel in Bugibba.

Never again! I have never eaten or drunk so much in my life. Suffice to say that on the first evening in the restaurant when asked whether we would like a drink, I asked for a red wine and a white wine and was promptly delivered a bottle of each!

Amazingly the first person I bumped into at the hotel bar was a friend and drinking partner from the Farnborough area, Alan Hope, better known as Howlin Laud Hope, leader of the Monster Raving Loony Party.

You may have seen him on TV or in the newspapers, if not, here's Alan:

The day before we returned I wrote this ode which I intended as an electronic postcard to be fired off into interweb, but in common with most of the Maltese infrastructure, the internet connection at and around our hotel was useless and my email access was limited to the North East corner of the hotel roof but only with a prevailing Westerly wind.

So I publish it here:

A WEEK IN BUGIBBA

I write for you, this latest missive,
From my Maltese All-Inclusive,
Through an alcoholic mist,
In truth I must confess I’m pissed.

When entering the hotel bar,
On the first day, for an early jar,
Who should I see so hale and hearty.
But Howlin Laud Hope of the Loony Party!

The hotel’s full, the joint is jumpin’,
There’s entertainment, music thumpin’,
All here with just the one intention,
To join the OAP’s convention.

There’s Jocks and Germans, Ecky Thumpers,
In baggy shorts and woolly jumpers,
They’re all so fat, a bunch of throwbacks,
A recipe for fatal heart attacks.

Three meals a day, all you can eat,
Soup, pasta, every kind of meat,
Salad, fish and then to follow,
Puds and custard, plates of gateaux.

There’s Stella, Cisk, all you can drink,
Fine wine, liqueurs and shorts to sink.
My stomach’s bursting, kidneys ache,
I’ve had as much as I can take,

So no more lager or cheap Bordeaux,
Goodbye brandy and ameretto,
Tomorrow we’ll be flying back,
Must leave you now, it’s time to pack.

Home to Blighty’s peace and quiet,
An ending to our “See-Food” diet,
It’s fish and salads all the way,
Then down the Fox at close of play!

We're off to Portugal for 2 weeks on February 20th and I wonder who I will bump into there.

This week I have started reaquainting myself with my plot which, apart from the odd visit to dig up parsnips, leeks and swedes, has been totally neglected since last October.

Hopefully the snow will stay away and I can spend a few hours a day clearing the weeds and digging it over. Unfortunately I am severely hampered by my right shoulder, an old injury, which has been playing up to such an extent that I have been referred to physio at the hospital.

Which reminds me I must close now and do my daily exercises!

Here's a little bit of Pugwash history to finish with:

And the winner of the Rushmoor in Bloom 2011 Best Allotment is ……………

……………. NOT me!

But I’ll go into that in more detail later.

Much has happened since my last entry and probably the most notable (and least interesting) was my attainment of Senior Citizen status, which passed by fairly quietly while on holiday in Spain.

Of course the Welsh Bard had to put fingers to keyboard in celebration:

I didn’t get where I am being blunt,

Or saying things I know I shouldn’t mention,

But Baltzer, you may grimace, even grunt,

To read this celebration of your pension!

I didn’t get where I am, nor did you,

By feeling old, except on mornings after,

So Chris, I think the only thing to do

Is treat this milestone with a dose of laughter!

I didn’t get where I am counting years,

Or checking dates, although I do remember

The last time that we shared a load of beers,

So, that’s what we must do before December...

I didn’t get where I am, knowing this -

That soon I’ll join you oldies on a pension,

So when we’re back from holidays, young Chris,

We’ll have to have a pensioners’ convention!

So at some date before Christmas we will be meeting up, probably in Reading, for a night of nostalgia (and a beer or ten).

Any of you who remember Paul, (well if you met him you’d hardly forget him!) and fancy a reunion, please let me know.

Incidentally after Paul left the sports centre “management” business he worked for Greene King for a number of years and is now in receipt of his Greene King pension which includes a regular monthly supply of 20% off beer tokens.

Now that’s what I call a pension!

Enough about being a pensioner, more interesting has been our redefinition of the term “long week-end” which now starts on a Wednesday and finishes on a Sunday or Monday. Even at my peak when I was in full time employment I never achieved a regular two day working week!

We certainly have made the most of the caravan this year and have had two really good holidays in Pafos and Nerja.

So no time for blog entries particularly as I have been “dongled-up” in Lesley on a netbook with tiny keys and small screen (the old peepers are not what they used to be) and a slow internet connection.

Another thing we have found out about Selsey is that it is almost always bloody windy.

Apologies to Michelle Shocked but ……………

Hey guys you know it’s kinda funny, Suffolk always felt so cold,

But you know you’re in the windiest place in the country,

When you’re, dongled-up in Lesley, West Sussex.

Whilst on the subject of internet connections here is another chapter from my forthcoming book, “Help Desks from Hell”:

“Following an extended stay, “on Dongle” in Lesley, we returned to Cotswold Towers to find that our BT "Always On" Broadband connection was "Always Off".

I gave it 24 hours then "Dongled up" my netbook and went to the BT support site.

I followed all the checks, disconnected the other phone extensions, swapped the filter box over but still "Always Off".

The next check was to enter my phone number and have a line check performed.

Easy enough - "0127631275" .................

"ERROR =PLEASE ENTER A VALID PHONE NUMBER"

Bloody useless.

Against me better judgement and knowing, after my dealings with other large organisations, that 0800 is the international dialling code for Calcutta, I then phoned BT Support.

My worst fears were confirmed:

"Good afternoon Sir, Rajid here, how may I be helping you today".

After what seemed like 30 minutes of confused conversation we established that there may be a fault in the NE Hants area and I should try again later.

I then went on the attack:

"And another thing, your bloody support web site is useless. The line check software doesn't recognise my phone number - 0127631275".

"That is because you will be entering only a five digit telephone number, Sir"

"Correct, I have a bloody 5 digit phone number".

"I am not understanding that Sir but I will be reporting this issue to our software supporting team. 100 thank yous, Sir, for reporting this unfortunate situation.

Is there anything else I can be helping you with this afternoon, Sir?"

" Yes, just get my bloody broadband working"

Phoned slammed down.

5 minutes later Rajid called me back and confirmed that there was a reported fault in my area of Hampshire and experienced BT engineers were working on it, around the clock, as he was speaking.

Now here's the good bit .............

He then suggested that I poke a needle or something sharp into a small hole in the side of the BT Hub and hold for 30 seconds to reset the equipment. Dutifully I searched around for needle and did what he instructed.

All it achieved was to draw blood from my thumb!

I politely asked him if this was BT's definition of leading edge technology.

He ignored this and told me that if it wasn't working in 24 hours I should be repeating this stupid exercise and see if that solved the problem.

I had been, in my humble opinion, very patient with him up until that point in our discussions but my patience finally broke and I lost it.

"If I am still not connected in 24 hours I will be back on the F-----g phone demanding to speak to your bosses, bosses, boss! I pay top dollar to be "Always On" and want a refund for every minute that I am off the air."

This rattled him and he began to get angry but I was not in the mood for further exchanges and hung up.

The following morning I was "On" then, after an hour, I was "Off". Since then my broadband has been up and down like a whores drawers but this morning, 5 days later I have been connected at least long enough to respond to the backlog of emails that had built up over the previous week.”

Moving swiftly on to the football front, it’s been all change for Boro this season. With a new manager, a complete new squad of full time players and a new chairman. Never being in Farnborough on a Saturday, I have yet to watch a game but considering the average age of the first team squad is 19 they are doing reasonably well and if they can keep the core of players together should be there or there abouts next season.

Super Blues seem to have recovered from an indifferent start and having sheared up the defence following the 7-0 drubbing by Peterborough, they are on bit of a roll, notably the away win at Upton Park, and are charging up the table.

Whilst in Nerja last month I came across this article, reproduced from the Guardian, in the in the Costa del Sol News "Spain in the UK Press" section:

Getafe fans urged to become sperm donors and breed more supporters

In a desperate bid to build its fan base, Spanish football club Getafe has released a video urging fans to become sperm donors in order to breed more season ticket holders.

The tongue-in-cheek video opens with a fan in front of an empty stand under the words "There's a problem: there aren't many of us".

Then the voiceover tells us there is a solution as the camera pans to the fan's crotch. We next see him in a sperm donor clinic collecting a plastic container. He is handed a DVD entitled Calientes de Getafe (Getafe's Hot Zombies).

The film shot in the style of a 1970's porn film shows young women in a room whose walls are covered with Getafe posters, flags and scarves, drinking a potion that turns them into sex mad zombies, The idea is that the DVD is so erotic that the donor has no difficulty in making his contribution.

Marketing director, Jose Antonio Cuetara, is optimistic, "If the campaign is a success we'll have to build a bigger stadium," he said.

Bloody hell, if they tried this with Farnborough season ticket holders, whose average age must be nearing 70, they would have to build a bigger cardiac arrest unit at Frimley Park!

Finally onto the sad subject of the Rushmoor in Bloom 2011 awards.

I returned from Spain expecting to find an invitation to the prize giving but no such letter. I checked the website and found that the award ceremony was to be held that night. Surprised that I had obviously missed out, but in fairness I had spent little time at the allotment over the previous 4 months, I thought nothing of it.

Last week I had occasion to visit my allotment "buddy" Big Sav,

I was greeted by Sav and his partner Sheila both wearing Cheshire cat grins and suppressing laughter. After 5 minutes of small talk he could wait no longer and amid raucous laughter, pulled out of a large brown envelope a Silver Gilt Award to Mr. Mike Savage Plot 23A Prospect Road Allotments.

I did not join in the laughter.

My plot is 24A and next to it is 23A, which I share with Sav. One half is dedicated to potatoes and my half which adjoins plot 24A is just an extension of my allotment.

Plot 23A is in his name and the potatoes, mistakenly, received the Silver Gilt award.

I have of course been on the phone to Rushmoor Council Allotment department and had the matter clarified.

A Silver Gilt Award is in the post to me.

Somewhat of an anti-climax, not the least of which is not having my photo taken with the new mayor.

Off to Lesley again tomorrow, Must make the most of it, only 3 weeks left before the site closes. Then it’s off to Pafos again on the 2^nd for two weeks.

Have seen some great entertainment at the site this year – Ben E King, Alan Price, Manfred Mann with both Mike Darbo and Paul Jones, Jaki Graham. Angie Brown, Incognito and last week, one of my favorite British singers, Chris Farlowe, whom I used to see regularly in Ipswich with Albert Lee and the Thunderbirds.

Remember "Out of Time"?

Although nearly 71 he can still sing out of his boots.

Here something to remind you:

Sunset over Lesley

We were away at the coast again at the weekend and are just about settled in to our caravan.

The highlights of the weekend were the full moon on Saturday and the low tides and sunsets on Sunday and Monday evenings.

You also you meet some very strange people on the beach!

The low tides were apparently exceptional, and, as reported in the Daily Mail:

“Coastguards at the Needles, on the western side of the Isle of Wight, dealt with five ships in distress at the same time.

Among them was the 2,900 tonne cargo ship Paula-C, on its way to Cowes with a crew of nine. They were forced to wait for a high tide to lift them clear of a shingle bank.

A coastguard spokesman said a 25 foot yacht had also run aground and three other vessels were also marooned by the unexpected turn of events.

He said: ‘We checked them all and there were no injuries, just some surprise at being caught out like this. Blame it on the Moon.’”

However, the full moon on Saturday night, wasn’t just any old full moon. It appeared much larger and brighter than usual as it made its closest approach to Earth in 18 years.

Scientists estimate that the “supermoon” was 14 percent bigger and 30 percent brighter at its peak.

Full moons vary in size because of the oval shape of its orbit. On Saturday, the moon was 221,565 miles away — the closest to Earth since 1992.

This type of full moon tends to bring a range of high and low tides, but experts say that’s nothing to worry about. Nor, apparently, is there any truth to the superstition that supermoons cause natural disasters.

Try telling that to the Japanese!

‘Oh swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb,’ wrote Shakespeare in the 16th century, reflecting his long-held fascination with the cycles of our nearest satellite.

I think he was spot on.

On a lighter note, our daughter Karen and her family visited us at the caravan last weekend and our eldest grandson, Ryan aged 7, on seeing the sign “Welcome to Selsey” decided he would call the town Lesley.

No, he is not dyslectic; he just has a good sense of humour, (sometimes), and perhaps he will go on to be a future Countdown champion.

I’ll have to pass on some tips from the Welsh Bard.

Heres a shot of Janice and I having a picnic on the beach:

Off to Lesley again tomorrow for the start of the geriatric entertainment season.

Bet you wish you will be there!

Sussex by (under?) the sea

Last Tuesday, with the car loaded up to the roof, we set off for Selsey to set up shop in the new caravan.

When we arrived we found that most of what we had taken, (duvets, pillows, crockery, cutlery, saucepans, bowls, bucket, waste bin etc.), had been delivered to the van and included in the purchase price, so most of what was in the car I would be taking back home.

Moral - Read the small print!
A couple of days earlier we had watched a program on BBC2 about the storms at Selsey in 2008, which did nothing to reassure us that our little holiday home, just 2 minutes from the beach, was a good investment.

This video was taken from the costguard station, which is adjacent to the caravan park, on March 10th 2008, and yes, it was a "Stormy Monday" but according to the blues classic, "Tuesday's just as bad".

All I can say is we are fully insured.

While we were there we got down to the serious business of checking out the local hostelries and here are the results of the Farnborough jury, marked on a 1 (Undrinkable but there was a hand pump) to 9 (As good as it gets) basis. Incidentally 10 is the same as 9 except the beer is free.

Fountain Inn, Chichester

• King & Barnes Sussex Bitter - 9
• Hall & Woodhouse Badger – 6

Neptune Inn, Selsey

• Arundel Bitter – 7
• Greene King IPA – 7
• Fullers London Pride – 6

Anchor, Siddlesham

• Courage Best – 6

The Seal Hotel, Selsey

• Youngs Bitter – 8
• Greene King Abbott – 8

Ships Bar, Bunn Leisure, Selsey

• Sharpes Doombar – 8

Lifeboat Inn, Selsey

• Adnams Lighthouse – 9
• Brakspeares Bitter – 8

I think I’m going to like Selsey!

While we were in the Neptune Inn we came across the most bizarre pub competition.

It was called “The Death Race – Who’s next?”

There was a list of 40 ageing celebrities ranging from Zsar Zsar Gabor to Prince Phillip to Tom Finney and for £5 you sponsor your chosen victim - first one to pop their clogs rewards their sponsor with £200.

Exactly what happens if you, the sponsor, pop your clogs first is unclear!

Somewhat disrespectfully, I thought, Selsey’s most famous living resident, Patrick Moore, was included on the list. Perhaps he uses the Neptune and is just a good sport!

Sadly the competition was fully subscribed so I will have to wait for the next one, which looking at the list of names shouldn’t be too long.

Whilst looking down the list of entertainment at the various club houses on our site it dawned on me that “The Death Race – Who’s Next?” could equally be applied to the geriatric bunch of rockers and rollers who are appearing throughout the season.

Booked so far for a veritable wheelchair extravaganza of geriatric entertainment:

Ben E King (72)
Gary US Bonds (72)
Alan (Animals) Price (69)
John (Status Quo) Coghlan (64)
Chas (Chas & Dave) Hodges (67)
Tony Christie (68)
Alvin (Shane Fenton) Stardust (68)
The Manfreds - Paul Jones (69), Mike Da'bo (67), Tom McGuiness (69), Mike Hugg (68)
The Searchers - Johh McNally (70)
Marmalade - Graham Knight (67)
Cliff (Rebel Rouser) Bennett (71)

plus the Ivy League and The Dreamers (less Freddie of course!)

Sadly my drinking mate Jack Scott is not yet booked. I’ll have to have a word with the management.

Mind it’s not all bad. Also appearing are Brand New Heavies, Incognito and Tight Fit.

Whoever's appearing, Gary US Bonds or not, I can’t see Janice and I dancing 'till a quarter to three!

What day is it?

When I was working full time I never wanted to get up in the morning but now that I am retired I am invariably awake by 5.30 am. I read for half an hour or so and then the alarm (radio) comes on, I listen to the news then I get up.

Currently I am reading an Ed McBain Omnibus edition of 87th Precinth stories and appropriately enough this mornings chapter went like this:

"MONDAY MORNING CAME.

It aways does.

On Monday morning you sit back and take a look at things, and things look lousy. That's a part of Monday, the nature of the beast. Monday should be a fresh beginning, a sort of road-company New Year's Day. But, somehow, Monday is only and always a continuation, a familiar awakening to a start which is really only a repetition. There should be laws against Monday mornings.

Nobody likes Monday morning. It was invented for hangovers. But Monday is Monday and legislation will never change its personality. Monday is Monday, and it stinks."

The great thing about retirement is that you don't have Mondays. They don't exist. In fact you don't have days of the week. You don't have weekends. You just have a brand new day.

Except Saturday afternoons of course which brings me on to the subject of football (again!).

Having crept up to 2nd in the league after a succession of back to back wins, two weeks ago the young allotmenteer and I witnessed a well below par midweek home performance, losing to 10 men Boreham Wood 1-0 which included our top scorer blasting a penalty, a la Wilkinson, miles over the bar. Strangely Boro have struggled to beat 10 man teams of late and in one case didn't score until 10 minutes from the end having played the entire 2nd half against 9 men at home.

The sendings of were no more bizarre than that of the Ebbsfleet keeper a couple weeks ago who saw red after 10, yes TEN, seconds, see excerpt from the BBC website:

Web stardom befalls

Ebbsfleet keeper

Preston Edwards

Ebbsfleet goalkeeper Preston Edwards has become a web sensation after his sending off against Farnborough.

Footage of the 21-year-old's dismissal after only 10 seconds has attracted over 450,000 hits on video-hosting website YouTube.

Edwards saw red in the Blue Square Bet South match on 5 February, which his side went on to lose 3-0.

"I'd like to be known for better, different reasons, but it's happened," Edwards told BBC Radio Kent.

"I've got to take it on the chin. At least I've got something in history."

Edwards' sending off is not the quickest ever - Chippenham striker David Pratt was sent off against Bashley after just 3 seconds in 2008 - but is thought to be the fastest red card for a goalkeeper.

As Fleet had no goalkeeper on the bench, midfielder Tom Phipp, 18, had to play in goal for the remaining 89 minutes.




He wasn't happy, and yes, Boro won 3-0.

On the social front, following on from lunch with our local MP, I have been seen in public walking out with none other than Baroness Thatcher. Worse still, to avoid being recognised, I had to disguise myself as the Lone Ranger's sidekick Tonto.


How embarrassing is that!

Of course the Welsh Bard came up with an offering:

As Mrs Thatcher, Jan out-Streeps Streep,

And Chris’s outfit? Tontos don’t come cheap:

Those hair extensions must have cost a pile,

And though it’s been too small for quite a while,

That buckskin top was Chris’s as a kid –

So what a clever job the tailor did!

Chris likes to make an effort, going out,

But who did Baltzer pay to play his Scout?

Kemo Sabe...

Finally, back to the subject of the allotment.

Many thanks for all the emails of encouragement- I will respond to them individually this week.

John "Saskatoon" Stoa from Dundee summed it up perfectly:

"Don't give in to them. Your plot needs you, and so do we, otherwise your blog will be all football and no recreational gardening."

And of course the Welsh Bard came up trumps with this, headed up:

Bastards - this won't help, but it's my way of dealing with it...

The vandals came, the little sods,
Enraging horticult’ral gods,
And, worst of all, upsetting Chris,
Who’s never known a day like this!
And, though his mates may lend a hand
To form a vigilante band
Who’ll chase the bastards far and near,
The answer may be found - in beer...

Now, after all these dreadful shocks,
Chris needs a session at the Fox,
Though, in the darkness, I’d have thought
The victim won’t get much support.
But soon th’Allotmenteers will cheer
As Baltzer’s furry hands appear...
Those arsonists will change their tune
When Chris goes howling to the moon!

You have to laugh about it, and, of course I will rise above it and carry one. After all my grandad had a smallholding complete with pig sty, and my father grew most of what he and my Mum ate, so I guess it's in my blood.

I even managed to face a couple hours yesterday raking though the remains of my HQ, salvaging what I could, mostly tools minus handles. What is most upsetting is that several of those tools were my dads and in one case my grandads, irreplaceable.

Janice and I are now looking forward to setting up our new holiday caravan in a weeks time.

I can't wait for the warmer nights, sitting outside on the veranda with something suitably cold in my hand listening to music such as this:



Under a full moon of course!

Not the happiest day of my allotment career

I was woken up at 11.30 pm on Thursday night by a phone call from Hampshire Fire Service informing me that my sheds and greenhouse at the allotment had been raised to the ground.

They had made the site safe and were leaving.

I went straight to the plot at 8.00 am this morning to find that the bastards had broken into 7 sheds and mine, being the last on their trail of destruction, had been set fire to.

From what I was able to recognise from what was left none of the garden tools including a petrol mower had been stolen - just pure vandalism.

I reported the incident to the police who were very sympathetic and helpful, meeting me an hour later back at the plot to take photos and wait for the forensic team to arrive.

The desk sergeant even asked me if I needed victim support assistance to which I politely told him that it wouldn't be required for me but probably would be for the little bastards that destroyed £500 worth of my equipment if I got hold of them before they did.

I am now re-considering my allotmenteering future.



WHAT IS THE POINT !