Summer’s End

The late summer bank holiday, being as late as could be, signalled the end of (my calendar-based) summer with a grey day spent girding loins for the new academic year commencing tomorrow and the consequent switch from the unstructured continuum of the ‘six weeks’ holiday to the seven day rhythm of term time.

Tartan Games

For this last track and field meeting of the season, the Tartan Games at Gateshead International Stadium, the boy emerged from semi-retirement (or idleness as I term it) to run the 100m so we could film his technique for his college coursework; as to be expected after zero training he trailed in out of the medals but managed to keep ahead of a pretty speedy disabled athlete.

Magic Mo-ment

Having missed last week’s 10K race in Beijing I turned on the TV today in time for the 5K final and saw Mo Farah take on the rest in a race that started slow and tactical (with Mo employing the unusual tactic of making a lengthy diversion on an early lap to pick up a drink) but ended fast and furious, won predictably but imperiously by the main man Mo.

Fenland Norfolkman

It was a surprise when my wife suggested taking a six hour trip to Norwich aboard a charter train, the vintage diesel hauled ‘Fenland Norfolkman’, provided of course that we went ‘Premier Dining’ which meant first class and fine dining, but I readily concurred and so we got ourselves to Darlington station for the 07:18 departure and were soon tucking into our full English breakfast as the sunlit countryside passed by in yellows and green under skies of blue and white, through Yorkshire, Lincolnshire and over the pan-flat fenlands of Norfolk to Norwich; on the return journey the dining was not only fine but extensive, leaving us slumped in our roomy seats in the old but elegant intercity carriages, a little warm for a while as the vintage air conditioning did not so much fail as go into reverse, but comfortable again well before we pulled back into Darlington, on time, at 22:45.

Norwich

The destination of Norwich was attractive as I had never previously visited the city, and although the splendid weather showed it in its best light I was still impressed as we walked via the riverbank and Pulls Ferry to the cathedral (complete with cloisters), round the centrally positioned castle, and through the arcades to the busy open market, opposite which we stopped for a cool drink at Caley’s Café located in the attractive old Guildhall; at each tourist spot we found a different brightly decorated four foot high fibreglass dragon on a concrete plinth (providing a photographic challenge to avoid), their purpose unknown until we reached The Forum arts complex and read about the community arts project that had conceived, commissioned and installed them to provide a fun trail for the kids over the summer holidays

Not-so-good Drying Day

If a strong breeze makes for a good drying day then today was potentially a very good drying day, perhaps too good as shortly after loading up the two washing lines (risking 40 lashes from the flailing shirt sleeves and trouser legs) I glanced outside to see nothing flapping but a lawn strewn with hitherto clean laundry and a severed line; fortunately I had a new one ready and waiting, but unfortunately to affix its ends required leaning a ladder up against trees that were wavering in a near gale, however I managed and after a second lashing the only slightly soiled washing was re-pegged and set again for a very good drying.

Box of Memories

When my two daughters were aged seven & five I made two boxes out of chipboard and plastic joint blocks, one bigger than the other, on which they could stand to reach the otherwise unattainable heights of the kitchen worktops, sink and draining board and so begin to make a contribution to household chores, and although the girls are now in their mid-twenties the boxes have continued, despite increasing dilapidation, to serve various purposes in the house, barn and garden, often causing us to comment with a smile on their original purpose; but no more – the larger box was scrapped some years ago and today I finally dismantled (before it collapsed under me) the smaller, consigning the chipboard to the firewood store but retaining the plastic joint blocks as they could come in handy should I need to make a similar box for the next generation.

Fuel Shortage

While awaiting the delivery of heating oil (get it while it’s cheap) we pottered about in the garden and barn and by two o’clock both front and back lawns had been mown, paths weeded, borders tidied, barn de-junked, and even my ‘new’ dartboard mounted in there, but there was no sign of a tanker; enquiries revealed we had been bumped to tomorrow which was not good news, but at least I will be able to have few games of 301 while waiting.

Wynyard Rose Garden

In fulfilment of a birthday pledge we took my wife’s mother to Wynyard Hall to see the newly opened visitor centre and rose garden, and after an effusive welcome and a cup of tea on the sun-baked terrace we spent a good hour or so wandering the artfully arranged paths around the flower beds containing, among a strong supporting cast of other plants, 140 varieties of rose, as interesting for their names as their form and scent (with the small but helpful guide book putting names to petals) – including such as Jude the Obscure, Port Sunlight and Darcey Bussell; further treats were to follow with the café supplying interesting salads (and prosecco) and the shop some gourmet items such as the wild boar ragu and real pasta that we took home for tea.

Slow Start

I knew the Athletics World Championships were due to commence soon but absent-mindedly missed yesterday’s first day (and so Mo Farah’s win); I made up for the slow start by getting the TV on early today to see Jess Ennis-Hill complete her gold medal performance in the heptathlon, and then watched Usain Bolt overcome his slow start in the 100m semi-final and go on to beat Justin Gatlin in the final – to the relief of those who care about the integrity of the sport.

Pitch Perfect

Entering Shildon FC’s Dean Street ground for the first time this season I immediately noticed something different – the pitch was a strange green colour due to a lush covering of grass, when even at this time of year it is normally pale and patchy and just waiting to turn into mud and sand; the programme confirmed that much work had been done over the summer, presumably to support the team’s preferred passing style of play (and it worked today with a 2-0 win), but the question is how well it stand up to the rigours of  Northern League season?

Requiem

Today attended the requiem for a teacher whose insight, generosity, humour and positivity provided the highlight of possibly every single day of my son’s five years at secondary school, throughout which he was fortunate enough to have him as his form tutor; even the hour long Catholic mass could not diminish the rapt attention of family, friends, colleagues and ex-students who attended in numbers to say their final thankyous and farewells.

Cliff Hanger

Checked out of the Palm Court but before leaving Scarborough met up with my old walking buddy Pete for tea and cake at the St. Nicholas Café, which occupies the top station of the disused cliff lift – in fact we appeared to be sitting in one of the old carriages perched out above the cliff, with excellent views of the South Bay – in which we discussed the developing plans for the next instalment of Ancient Roam (our long distance walks) at …. a place to be revealed later.

Scarborough Luck

The summer season at Scarborough’s Stephen Joseph Theatre always tempts, and to make the trip worthwhile we like to arrive early and do the seaside bit before enjoying a pre-performance dinner and then staying over in a nice hotel, and all went well with a stroll along the prom, a drink in the Spa, a walk back along the now sun-drenched beach and back up into town (via a coffee at the quirky Solid Rock Café), a fine meal at Lazenby’s on York Place, and a comfortable room at the Palm Court Hotel, with the only discordant note being my splattering from a height by an incontinent seagull; some say this is good luck but evidence to the contrary was provided later when, in response to the fire alarm, we had to evacuate the theatre and stand in the rain until the fire engine came and went – perhaps the good luck was that it happened during the interval with no detriment to the show.

Neville’s Island

Enjoyed this excellent performance in the round, which pitches four colleagues on an outward bound management training exercise onto a fog-bound island in the middle of Derwentwater where, under the stress and humiliation of their situation, layers of civilization are peeled back to reveal, with alternate humour and drama, some uncomfortable home truths.

Rain

Today it rained, all day, not torrentially but incessantly, what we used to call persisting down, and the furthest I got from the house was the mobile library and the village hall pop-up café.

Grit

The boy’s underwhelming AS exam results could have made for a difficult return to college today, but our session with his tutor ended positively with a plan for his second year that will require effort and commitment – a bit of grit if you like; if only you could buy it by the 20 litre bag like the grit we purchased later in the day for the cats’ litter trays.

Etihad

In contrast to yesterday’s grass roots football, today the boy and I were off to the Etihad, courtesy of a couple of holiday-making season ticket holders (thanks Steve & Mike) to see City’s first home game of the season, at which the new South Stand extension was unveiled with banners and ticker-tape; all the hoo-hah was well worthwhile as a record attendance of 55,000 plus saw City thump champions Chelsea 3 – 0.

FA Cup

The long road to the FA Cup final next May began today with the extra preliminary round, and for me a short trip to Central Avenue to see Billingham Synthonia play Consett; Synthonia are possibly the only team to be named after a fertiliser (although many teams have been likened to one) but today there was no bumper crop of goals with the game ending in a nil - nil draw.

Spray

Not the best day to drive 100 miles down the M1 (and back) to pick up the boy and his mate from their climbing and caving holiday base in the Peak District, with a rain sodden road surface creating clouds of spray to contend with; hearing traffic reports from around the country, our occasional delays were minor, though due more to good luck than good judgement given the number of cars that hurtled past at great speed into a white wall of uncertainty.

West Park

Darlington’s South Park has been a well-established recreational facility for the town since Victorian times, but its West Park is a new development that reflects 21^st century thinking: wild flower meadows rather than planting beds; a wooden adventure playground rather than primary coloured equipment; reed beds for dipping rather than an ornamental duck pond; natural stone boulders rather than formal statues; we had a pleasant stroll around for the first time today and gave it a thumbs-up as a good addition to the town’s green spaces.

Perseids

For once conditions were favourable to observe a meteor shower with the night moon-free, clear and temperate, so I had a few sorties outside looking skyward and was rewarded by seeing four or five meteors; I had hedged my viewing bets, timing my first session at about 22.30 to coincide with the expected passage of the International Space Station – and (unsurprisingly) it was bang on time as it moved serenely and brightly from west to south at about 30 degrees above the horizon, and near the end of its arc my first, and as it turned out my brightest, meteor arrowed towards it for a memorable sight.

Bon Voyage

Took the elder daughter up to Newcastle Airport to embark on her mammoth return journey to Mongolia via London and Moscow, not arriving in Ulaanbaatar until Thursday morning; our drive back home was considerably shorter via the A68 (having sworn off – and at – the road-works on the A1 western bypass at Gateshead) even taking into account a stop at the Brockbushes Farm Shop (at the A68/A69 roundabout) where we decided against picking our own gooseberries but enjoyed a Panini and coffee.

Transition

A sense of transition today with the boy despatched to the Peak District for a week’s outdoor pursuits, the elder daughter packing for her departure tomorrow back to her job abroad, and echoes of Budapest as I changed back the numerous unspent Hungarian forints to GB pounds – considerably fewer, but still enough to finance lunch at Sedgefield’s Number 4 tea shop.

Tea Party

As a birthday treat for her mother, my wife orchestrated afternoon tea at our house with sandwiches, quiche, cake, scones, pink Cava and of course tea – all beautifully presented and appreciatively consumed.

First Match, Last Legs

Home from Hungary and hungry for football after the close season I headed for Moore Lane Park to see one of the opening fixtures in the Northern League, in which Newton Aycliffe beat last year’s champions Marske United 2-1; the match was also chosen by Mike Amos, the long term Chairman of the league, who to mark his retirement and raise funds for charity has embarked on a ‘Last Legs Challenge’ to walk 12 miles or so to each of the 44 home grounds, and although I drove past him and his small entourage (looking pretty jiggered) about a mile from the ground, they still arrived before me as I still had to negotiate the tortuous new town road layout of Newton Aycliffe.

Back On Track

After yesterday’s omnibus blunders my tour-guiding was back on track, literally, as we took advantage of a group day ticket (only £8.25) to clatter around the city on the yellow trams and knock off our remaining must-dos in Budapest: Margaret Island (see below), the indoor market to purchase our souvenirs, and the New York café to eat lunch in splendid surroundings.

Margaret Island

Having done Buda on one bank and Pest on the other, today it we visited Margaret Island that lies in the Danube between the two and is basically a 2.5 km long park with gardens, fountains, spas, monuments, and an enterprising Hungarian who rents out motorised three wheeled scooters (a sort of Segway for seniors) to those who would like to explore but don’t fancy the walk in 35C – like us; we tootled up and down the length in just under the one hour rental time, enjoying the views, the breeze generated, and the expressions (startled, amused, or envious) on the faces of those we passed.

Gellert Spa

Having taken the waters from a Spar every morning, with four cold bottles needed to see us through the heat of the day, today we took the real thing at the Gellart Spa, and by the time we had walked down from the Citadel high up on the hill (having got a bus up) we were ready for a few hours of relaxation by and in the pools; I was happy to lie back and read but was eventually persuaded into one of the thermal baths where, submerged up to my chin in 36C water, I began to empathise with restaurant lobsters.

Busses

I am usually quite good with transport, but in Budapest there are two red hop on hop off bus companies (as well as a burgandy and a green) which caused me difficulty in aligning the tickets bought, the map held, and the actual omnibus; even when that was sorted I misled the party onto a bus that terminated further away from the hotel than we started, causing  a needlessly long trudge back on foot - for which they were compensated by cocktails after dinner.

Buda Old Town

Hopped on the hop-on hop-off bus outside the hotel and hopped off at Buda Old town to find a charming if a bit touristy eyrie high above the city, with its period buildings dominated by the stunning Matyas Church, the Holy Trinity monument, and the Fishermen's Bastion, the latter a fantastical structure that serves simply as a viewing point for extensive panoramas along and over the Danube; a few steps downhill we found the magnificent Royal Palace, affording more views but notable also for the Sandor Palace and action packed statuary of the Matyas Fountain.

Basilica

Another hop on and off brought us back to the Pest side of the Chain Bridge, only a short walk from the stately St Stephen's Basilica, where a 200 forint voluntary donation, enforced by the clergy on the gate, gained entry (also enforced was the removal of my baseball cap - only temporarily perched up top to free both hands to sort out the change); the interior was good value with impressively decorated columns and ceiling, and a chapel housing the Holy relic of the saint's right hand.

Publin

The heat and humidity of the day (one display showed 39C) broke as we headed for our bus stop, with such ferocity that shelter was needed to avoid drowning - fortunately the Irish pub "Publin" was at hand to see us through the hour long torrential downpour of rain and hail with bottles of cider and a cosy atmosphere.

Hungarian Meal

Dining at the Wok &Grill on the Vaci Ut, I went for the Hungarian cuisine, which began well with tanyasi csiskecombe - basically a Hungarian parmo with the welcome addition of mushrooms - but ended badly with Hungarian trifle, which unfortunately had the unwelcome addition of sultanas hidden within.

Danube

Took a relaxing late afternoon boat trip up and down the Danube for an hour and a bit, enjoying good views of all the sights as well as a couple of complimentary drinks on offer.

Pest & Buda

Left the hotel and strolled down Rakoczi Street, lined by some impressive be-statued buildings, to central Pest, taking in the Great Synagogue, the Hungarian National Museum, and the remarkable Market Hall, before crossing over the Szabadsag Bridge into the Gellart Hill area of Buda where, after lunch at the excellent Gottier Cafe, it was hot climb uphill then a more shady descent past the Saint Gellart statue and over the Elizabeth Bridge back into Pest for a well earned beer and gelato.

Hotel Nemzeti

A four-thirty departure time for our flight to Budapest enabled us to prepare in leisurely fashion - until I checked the tickets and discovered the actual take-off was three-forty - which then precipitated a small scramble to finalise packing and shutting up shop; from then on all went smoothly with roads, flights and taxis working in harmony to get us to the Mgallery Hotel Nemzeti, which lived up to its billing as a fusion of modern and traditional styles, with the original stone, marble and wrought iron complemented by contemporary chrome and glass.

Car Boot Sale

Took the opportunity, while we were out early picking up the boy from a sleepover, to call at the local car boot sale that, despite the damp morning, still had over a hundred stalls to browse and tempt; I succumbed and gave £3 for a really good quality dartboard, then spent the next half hour searching, in vain, for a set of darts.

Berry Picking

Harvested my fruit bushes today; it didn’t take long with just five loganberries and nine gooseberries (that’s berries not bushes) and fortunately the gooseberries were just about ripe enough to eat raw as part of a very small fruit salad, saving me from having to weigh out the miniscule amounts of flour, butter and sugar that would have been necessary to make a two-mouthful crumble.