More Birthday Celebrations

October is a busy month for birthdays, so much so that we forgot Auntie Olive's on October 2nd - we were in the bad books. Mum was wined and dined on the 6th and received lots of thoughtful cards and generous presents. We had a lovely meal at the Buffers in Scholes. Next was Alex on 18th, though the celebrations took place on the 17th as he was in university on the day itself. We took Grandad and Grandma Longfellow over to Sheffield and, with Alex, met Becky and James at The Fox House in the Peak District (see picture on left), about 8 miles outside Sheffield, where we had a lovely lunch. Then on the 24th we celebrated a very special birthday, a true milestone of achievement, Grandma Longfellow's 90th birthday at Uncle Stephen's house. The gathering was restricted to close family, with the exception of Dorothy Brown, a family friend. All were present except those with a very reasonable excuse - that of not being in the country. Jonny, Ruth and family came to see her on Friday before setting off for Wales the next day. There was one other notable exception who was somewhere around the globe - California to be precise - and greetings via Skype were made, along with a card from New Zealand. (The picture on the right shows Grandma blowing out the candles on her cake but it appears that she is blowing so hard that she is blowing Uncle Stephen's head back as well!)

The Macc Monster

This is the name of a bike ride I did with James on Sunday 10th October. Macc is short for Macclesfield where the ride started and Monster is an apt description of the ride. The distance was 100k and in that were 8 classified climbs totalling 7000ft of vertical ascent - some long and gradual, others short and steep. We went through the Goyt Valley and into the Peak District National Park - high and broad with exceptional views and the weather was glorious, so there were some compensations. James and his mates set a pace I found difficult and then impossible to stay with, so after four of the climbs I found myself on my own, glad to be able to ride my own pace. The only probem with this was finding the way to go. Markers were few and far between and in unfamiliar territory they were easy to miss. At one point I was taking the road to Leek when I noticed in the corner of my eye an orange marker which had blown over in the wind, pointing in a direction at right angles to the one I was taking. That happened twice - having to go back on myself having passed a turn. Eventually I found my way to the feed station for lunch in a lovely village called Rudyard. It was in the car park of the Rudyard Hotel, where I tried to stock up as much as I could for the second half of the ride. This is where I met up with James again and from here he cycled back with me, restraining himself to my pace. It was at 38 miles we came to the hardest climb, Thorncliffe, cliff being an appropriate term. It was a mile long and steep, and it came with a warning in the info pack - "a brute, featureless and open, broken many a poor soul" - so I knew it was going to be tough. If that wasn't bad enough as we started to climb we got the wind in our faces. If I have done a harder climb, I cannot remember when. What motivated me to keep going was the fact that I knew I wouldn't come back. I had to do it this time, it was my only chance, and I didn't want to have to admit it had broken me. Somehow I managed to crawl to the top. As the road levelled out I could feel my legs beginning to lock in cramp. I hoped it would wear off as the way became easier as it usually does. But it intensified, so I knew I had to do something as we approached the next incline. I told James I would need to stop to massage the muscles. As I stepped off the bike both thighs locked solid and I was stood in agony like a statue holding the bike, unable to move. Considering James is a doctor I was a little surprised at the lack of advice being offered to ameliorate my condition. At some point I managed to lay down on the grass verge, high in the peaks overlooking stunning scenery, which I obviously was not able to fully appreciate. James thought it would be advisable to phone Mum and Beck to let them know we would not be back by the estimated time, and I thought it might be advisable for them to stand by the phone in case they needed to come for me. I was somewhat disconcerted when Mum asked us where we were and James replied, "I don't know". Anyway, the cramp passed and I managed to get back on the bike and was able to pedal. The worst was over and I managed to limp back. Up past the (in)famous Cat and Fiddle Pub and down the long descent into Macclesfield - it was a nice finish. Mum and Beck were at the finish and I gladly fell into their arms, before having the after-ride meal. To save having to put the bikes in the boot of the car, having to take off wheels etc, we decided to ride the 8 miles back to Alderley Edge.

Jonny and Ruth in Triathlon

On Sunday 12th September, Jonny and Ruth went to Etwall, which is about forty-five minutes from where they live, to take part in the Derby Triathlon 2010. For Jonny it was the second time he had done the event, and considerably less demanding than his recent Iron Man, but for Ruth it was her first time and, I think, a little bit daunting. The venue was Etwall Community School/College where the swimming took place in the pool and all the transitions between the stages took place as well. The swimming, sixteen lengths of the pool, was followed by the bike ride (c.18k) around the local area, finishing with a run (5k), around the local area also. Competitors set off individually at timed intervals throughout the day. Ruth set off at around 11 a.m. and Jonny at around 11.15 a.m. Jonny's overall time was about 1 hour 7 minutes, Ruth a little bit longer - not sure of the precise times. Mum and I went with Holly and Henry to watch and encourage. The weather was kind to us and a great time was had by all. Well done to Ruth and Jonny. What's next?

Birthday Celebrations

On Sunday, 26th September, we had a family gathering at Ye Old Sun Inn at Colton, a small village just outside Tadcaster, off the A64 to York. The reason for the gathering was to celebrate the birthdays of three people whose anniversary of their birth occurred at that time. The first was Grandad Longellow, whose 89th birthday was the day before; the second was Christopher, whose 26th birthday was also the day before and the third was Kirsty's grandma, Violet Oliver, who was celebrating also her 89th birthday. It was a memorable occasion with beautiful food and a convivial group. In addition to the principal guests mentioned above - there was Alex, Becky, Clare, Mike, Kirsty, Isla, Grandma Longfellow, Mum and I. There was, as always, a toast to absent friends who were also present in our thoughts.

A Weekend to Remember, But I Am Struggling

It is that time of year again. When people migrate from lands further than the eye can see, to two specific locations in England, where huge amounts of cash will be spent in the hope that that person can find a part of themselves that they are happy with; where thousands of people will come to see a handful of groups of people on stages in the hope their collective wisdom will improve our lives for the better. It is of course the Leeds and Reading Festival.
This is one festival I did not think I would be attending due to the fact that I thought they had sold all of their tickets for this year. However, a young man called Christopher Fletcher made it known to me that a record shop called 'Crash Records' had a few more tickets within their possession. With one quick phone call I was able to phone up the record shop and book myself a weekend ticket. I was particularly happy about going to this Leeds Festival for numerous reasons. One reason would be it is awesome. Second reason for my delight would be the fact this is the first time I have actually paid for my own ticket, so I felt a sense of pride. Lastly, a band that goes by the name of Libertines would be playing on the first night. So it can be understood by many people why I was excited.
First things first, in order to stay the whole weekend we would need a tent. Unfortunately, father David had lost my brother Christopher's, tent. To solve this problem sister-in-law Clare was able to obtain a tent from a work colleague who particularly enjoyed camping. So one problem was solved.
At the Leeds Festival it is wise that Chris and I get the tent pitched as close to the Festival Arena as possible, to reduce journey times from the camp site to the Arena. Chris came up with a clever plan of travelling to the campsites at 2am on Wednesday evening in order to avoid a large crowd of people at the entrance. I agreed to come along in order to help Chris. This plan should have worked very effectively enabling us to get the tent pitched quickly. Unfortunately, a couple hundred more people had exactly the same idea. I had to wait a couple of hours in a line whilst holding most of our possessions for that weekend at the same time. So people can understand with the line taking hours to move along that I was beginning to hurt. It was light by the time we had pitched the tent and returned home. Gladly, I had nothing of great importance to do on Thursday, so I took the opportunity and slept all of that day.
Finally, Friday had arrived and the reckless drinking could begin. The first few hours were given to drinking, talking and the eating of junk food. Early in the day there were no performances I particularly wanted to see due to the fact the bigger performances were on in the evening. However, Chris, Clare and Anyka and I went to see a comedian by the name of Kevin Bridges. It was an enjoyable experience and the only thing during the day that I actually wanted to see.
The day went by and I saw many performances like 'The Cribs', which I did enjoy. Unfortunately, the sound quality was not the best and some of the songs I was hoping to hear were not performed, so there was some disappointment but it was generally a good performance.
The time came when the Libertines would be performing. I was very much looking forward to this due to the fact the Libertines are one of my favourite bands and because they have been split up for so long, it is a great occasion to see them playing together again. The performance lived up to expectations. They played all the songs that people have loved these many years and they gave their fans what they wanted, which is why they were so impressive on that night. The only concern was Peter Doherty walked off the stage after three songs, which made me concerned with Peter Doherty being the drug addict we all know, would he be able to continue. Fortunately, he came back on stage after a few minutes and gave a great performance. It was a good night. I felt pity for the band after the Libertines , Arcade Fire, due to the fact that the majority of the crowd left after the Libertines finished so it seemed a bit embarrassing for them. I feel this was an error of the organisers in that they did not make the Libertines the headliners on Friday night.
The weekend continued with excessive drinking and the consumption of junk food. I saw many good acts such as Weezer or Mumford and Son, but I was disappointed that all the performances I wanted to see occurred on Friday night. The rest of the weekend I went to see performances that Clare and Anyka wanted to see, with me having no specific band I wanted to see it was an opportunity to listen to some new bands and comedians. I must admit there were some good performances and I might listen to them later on.
The weekend came to an end and I must admit I was glad. It was not that the festival wasn't good, it was the fact that I had been sleeping rough for three days(although I must admit I did enjoy sleeping in a tent) and the toilets provided were appalling and not fit for purpose. So it was only the little things that I missed at this Festival. I left with Chris, Clare and Anyka early on Sunday evening to avoid traffic and we came home and enjoyed a good stew that was made by mum/dad, I forgot to ask.
To summarise this weekend in one word I would say it was wicked. lol. I hope u lot enjoyed this blog and Ste if you're reading this, you're adopted(joke). No in all seriousness I hope you had a good time in Borneo and I hope you will enjoy Australia. It's a jungle out there! Crikey! Cya l8r.

The long journey home.

We now had further to travel back but we were going to do it slower. As well as driving more slowly, we were going to take several days. We booked into a hotel in Bourges which is just about in the middle of France and arrived there on Tuesday afternoon. We travelled over the Massif Central so had the thrill of travelling over the bridge in the sky, otherwise known as the Millau Viaduct, what an impressive structure. Bourges had distinctive cathedral but other than that was somewhat disappointing, but we were only staying overnight. Our next stop, Wednesday night, which we had booked before leaving England, was in Paris, near the Montparnasse Tower, from where you can get the best view of Paris - needless to say, we did not go up. But we did go on the Metro, into the city, to Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower and walked along the Seine. In the evening we had a typically French meal at a restaurant near the hotel, Le 14 Juillet, the name of the restaurant, not the hotel. The next day we had a leisurely drive to Calais, where we took an earlier ferry than the evening one we had booked. The worst part of the journey back was the Dartford Tunnel and the worst part of the journey out was the Dartford Crossing.

We managed to get to the Med!

We headed south-east for about 150 miles, passing the towns of Albi and Castres, to L'Herault region of southern France, again taking its name from a river flowing through it. We stopped for lunch at a nice little town called St Pons de Thomiere in the market place where the staff had to criss-cross a busy road to serve the tables from a bar across the street. When we arrived at Neffies where Sheila and David live, the temperature was 38 in the shade. They have a truly beautiful house and garden and swimming pool, which it didn't take long for us to get into, where we were promptly served with bubbly. We were wined and dined throughout our three day stay, and taken to some beautiful spots - a French market at St Chinian and the Noilly Prat centre at Marseillan on the Med. On the left you can see the view overlooking Neffies and on the right you can see me looking out to the Med.

Back from France

We arrived back last Thursday evening, very tired, after a long journey from the south of France. The holiday had been packed with wonderful experiences and over indulgences. The first week we spent in the Aveyron region - a region not very well known to English tourists but every bit as interesting as the better known Loire and Dordogne regions further north. Like the other two, the region takes its name from the river which flows through it, in this case L'Aveyron - one of its tributaries Le Viaur, which is very beautiful as well, was the scene of two enjoyable excursions. Our gite, Les Aleis, was near the small village of La Foulliade, and shared its name with the farm up the road, where we mistakenly went first. The journey down was a bit of a marathon or maybe ironman even. 1300 kilometres or 900 miles is a long way in one go. There were punctuations along the way, thankfully no punctures, after 300 miles roughly, the crossing from Dover-Calais, after another 300 a one hour lay-by stop and then 300 miles to our destination. We did stop for fuel just outside Dover and a meal close to our destination and then more fuel and provisions before finally arriving, but the rest was travelling. We left Leeds at 5.30 Friday afternoon and arrived at La Fouillade at 4.00 Saturday afternoon. My usual leisurely pace of travelling had to be suspended for the duration of the journey as I was following Lewis Hamilton, no it was Jonny, who had the Sat Nav. It was particularly tricky around Paris. We arrived in one piece. For seven days we enjoyed the delights of the local area with Jonny, Ruth and the kids. The weather started ok and got better daily and by the end it was in the high thirties. The kids had lots to amuse them at the gite, swimming pool, trampoline, table tennis, hammock, swings, play house and Timmy the cat - and they enjoyed going to the river to swim and play. Ruth and Jonny had fun too. You can get a flavour of the region from the picture of mum on our visit to Villefranche, the major town of the region, on the pedestrian bridge across L'Aveyron river. As the temperature rose towards the end of the week, we left Jonny, Ruth and the kids to head further south, to spend a few days with David and Sheila Covell. More about that in the next blog.

We're Going on Holiday

Late this afternoon, we will be setting off for France - ferry from Dover at 12.10 a.m.
- then a long drive down to near Toulouse. We are spending the first week with Jonny and Ruth and the kids, and then heading off further south to stay with David and Sheila(James' mum). When we leave them we will be heading north in stages - we have booked one night in Paris on 25th August. Our ferry back is on Thursday 26th, so we should be back in Leeds late that night.

A New Cyclist

If you read Alex's blog below, you will see that he has found a sudden liking for cycling. It started with him going for short rides on his own, increasing the distance day by day, until eventually he was able to go to Aberford and back without stopping. I offered to go with him, an offer he gladly accepted. We went to Towton and back via Saxton, about 20 miles in distance. I have to say I was very impressed with his determination and level of fitness. The next day we had intended to increase the distance to 25 miles by going round by Church Fenton, but a suggested detour to Ryther was agreed, increasing the distance to in the region of 30 miles. Today we went to Selby, 42 miles, and included a cafe stop. Definitely a new cyclist in the family and one with much potential. We'll have to watch him.

One more Iron Man

Yesterday was a long but memorable day for Jonny which several of our family were privileged to witness and share - Becky, James, Alex, Mum and me, and, of course, Ruth, Holly and Henry. The location was the National Watersport Centre, Nottingham, and the surrounding area, the event the Outlaw Iron Man Triathlon - 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride, 26.2 mile run, and the weather was good. It was an early start for the spectators, we left Leeds at 8 a.m. but even earlier for the competitors who entered the water at 6 a.m. We managed to get a glimpse of Jonny as he hurtled past on his bike at around 10.30 a.m. and despite valiant attempts to get to see him again on the road, the next time we saw him was during the marathon when he ran past us on the waterside at about 4 p.m. He passed once more before eventually finishing at 5.48 p.m. His overall time, therefore, was 11 hours 48 minutes - and this despite having to stop to mend a puncture by the roadside which cost him around 20 minutes - a fantastic achievement and a very proud time for us all. It was great to see him run across the finish line with Holly and Henry.

Where's my blog?

As I have already written on this blog and it is no where to be seen, I am doing a Becky and making sure it works before I spend too much time writing on this blog.

Mike's new supporter

Last night Mike had a new supporter who went to see him play football for the first time. She didn't see any of the game as she was asleep in the pushchair being pushed by her Grandad and stirred only briefly to indicate that Grandad had been standing too long and should be walking up and down the touchline. Perhaps it was well that she slept as Bardsey were losing 1 - 0 when we arrived and 1 - 0 when it finished. It was very convenient though as the game, a home friendly fixture for Bardsey, was being played at Barnbow.

Isn't life great!!!

This is just a test to make sure it works before I spend my precious time writing my first blog (only to find that it hasn't worked) xxx

Re-cycling

As an addendum to the most recent post, it is interesting to see the sudden resurgence of cycling in the family. First this year was Mike, who on his birthday asked me to take him for a ride, as a result of which he acquired a keen desire to do more. Such was his eagerness that he bought shoes and pedals to add to my old bike, the Felt, which has now been ridden by some many people - Mum, Steve Kirton, Jonny - and now Mike. We adjusted the seat and added accessories so he could ride independently, though in truth, the bike is probably a size too big for him. This initial enthusiasm saw Mike joining our group for riding, even evening riding and the prospect of him buying his own bike; but, no sooner had he got properly started the football season has come round again - matches on Saturdays and Sundays, training midweek - so soon from enthusiastic cyclist to non cyclist. In the meantime, as the previous blog indicates, Alex showed interest in the old black Felt. So we adjusted the saddle higher and replaced Mike's clipless pedals with Mum's old flat pedals and, with the accessories already in place, he was away, though in truth, the bike is probably a size too small for him. The previous Sunday we were out with Billy and Sue with some of their friends. Cycling came into the conversation as Billy had just been for an off-road ride with his friend. This friend also has a road bike, so Billy asked if I still had the bike I said he could borrow? High demand indeed - first come, first served?
Talking about bikes, Mum and I had a lovely weekend with Becky and James - he has a bike in the front room, so cycling is always in mind when you are in their house. They prepared a beautiful meal on Saturday night and took us for lunch on Sunday. There were a couple of coffee stops as well. We even got chance to go to Royle's - cycle shop. When we left we said our goodbyes to Becky at the front door and to James as we passed him cycling down the road.

Giving Something New A Go

Well, for me it's not really something new it is more like a chance to start again with an old hobbie that I loved at the age of seven, but lost my confidence with in the hills of the lake district. It is, of course, cycling. For years I have watched the Tour de France and enjoyed the suspence of sprint finishes, crashes and mountain climbs along with many other aspects of cycling that keeps me fixed to the screen. I do enjoy the fact that it is not as simple as it looks. A person, who knows very little about road cycling, would think the more races you win, the more likely you are to win the Tour de France. WRONG! It surprises people that Mark Cavendish won five Tour de France stages and wasn't even in the top 100, while Alberto Contador won no races but won the Tour de France. The answer for this isn't complicated, it is basically that Contador is more consistent than Cavendish and that he is a lot better than him in the mountains, where the tour is won or lost. I know this description of an aspect of the Tour de France has little to do with my first sentence, the reason for me losing track of the point of this paragraph is basically due to the fact I am trying to emphasise how I have rediscovered cycling and why I am giving it another chance. I have enjoyed for three years(I think) watching the Tour de France and after enjoying learning more about this sport, I feel it is time that I take it up again. It is a simple sport, which is not simple at the same time. It is simple in terms of learning how to ride a bike and it is a simple pleasure, the views you see on the Tour de France and in the British countryside are best enjoyed on a bike. It is not simple in terms of how a bike is put together. After watching a documentary on Tuesday night about a man (whose name I have forgotten) who went around the world to gain the components to make his perfect bike. It is remarkable the history of the bike. It shows the obstacles it had to overcome to become the basic two wheel mechanism which was easy and popular to ride at the same, even to this day we are still trying to improve it, so that we can find it less of hassle and more of a delight to ride. I only use the word hassle after seeing the old designs of bikes in its early days.
I'm losing track of thought again and I will come back to the original point of this text. This week I have been out on one of dad's old bikes three times. Initially, I felt quite anxious. I share dad's dislike of going downhill, I never feel in complete control when doing so, however I never felt that I was going to fall. After a few hiccups, it became easier and I have to say I enjoy it greatly. It's a hobbie everyone should take part in really, it gets us to places quicker and it get us fit. Nothing to complain about really. I am not as good as dad, but after a while I will be. The only regret I have is not restarting earlier, but it can be hard to get back into something when you had a bad experience with it. That is basically all I have to say really. I must warn I have not prove read this yet, so if there are any mistakes involving grammar or spelling, I apologise. cnewnrcfiuewofnoeri kdjcn kswdmwioe ckiem dsfas s. Thanks for taking the time to listen to what I have to say. I know I'm not very interesting but I know this paragraph is more interesting than dad talking about dough. Goodbye.

Making lots of Dough

Well not me exactly, it is my new bread-making machine that is making the dough. Sometime ago, I happened to have some beautiful home-made bread made by Ruth. I had always thought that bread-making machines were not much better than useless, but to my utmost amazement I found myself eating delicious bread out of one such machine. So impressed was I that the next time I visited Grandma and Grandad I related the story to them; whereupon Grandad said that he wanted to buy me one. This instruction to buy was passed on to Mum and eventually, last Wednesday to be precise, my own bread-making machine appeared. Yesterday I had chance to play with it and discover for myself the intricacies of bread-making at home. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that there are no intricacies, it is dead simple. You put in the flour (500g) and add a little water (320ml), close the lid and press the button - in three hours you have a loaf of bread. Fascinating. My first loaf was well tucked into when I got home from the club last night and I had to tuck in for myself before going to bed. This morning I made my second loaf and took it for Grandma and Grandad, and my third is currently waiting to come out of the tin. Happy days!

A step in the right direction

Insignificant when compared to the rainforest, nevertheless Ling Close Wood was acquired as part of the "Woods on your Doorstep" initiative by the Woodland Trust in 1999. The name was chosen by the local people and the site is said to have had a variety of uses over the years including allotments, cricket and football pitches pre-war and arable thereafter. Running through the wood is a network of paths and tracks which are cut regularly creating pleasant circular walks. To celebrate the year 2000 a pond was created as the millennium feature. In the region of 7,200 trees were planted including oak, ash, cherry, field maple, willow, alder, hazel, hawthorn and dog rose. It is situated on the western edge of the village of Ledston Luck, the next village to Kippax where we lived when Jonny was born. The Raleigh volunteers are doing great work for ecology and conservation in the rainforest and we are doing our bit by starting a monthly subscription to the Woodland Trust, and for that they have planted a tree for us in this wood. Sounds like a nice afternoon walk to try and find it. They have sent also a Woodland Trust "nature detectives CLUB" pack for Holly, Henry and Isla - they will be really excited - but it is a first step and a valuable one.

America Bound and Rebound

Last Friday we went to the Apree Bar on High Street, Boston Spa, for Joshua's farewell do before he sets off for th USA on a soccer scholarship to some university or other - I thought he was going to California though Alex thought Tennessee - I suppose we should have asked. Given the number of people attending, most of whom appeared to be Josh's mates, the only conversation with him was basically "hello" and I'm not sure what happened to the "goodbye", nevertheless it was an enjoyable evening at, compared with France and Germany, reasonable prices - apart from when Uncle John stung me in a round. It was, as always, good to meet with family members infrequently seen these days, and the initial trepidation at a perhaps lukewarm reception evaporated quickly, though the hostess scurried around all evening without venturing in our direction, other than to ask whether or not we had had food. There were gaps in the gathering as you might expect and the gaps these days seem to be growing, again as you might expect - no Tess, no Tom, no Sarah, no Ryan, no Dale, no Amy, no Sue (she was tired), no Joe, no Clare, no Marcus and not many Longfellows - so apart from the Leaders et al, not much of a family gathering. But it was nice and significant as another milestone as the clan spreads and the family widens. It was also nice because of the location. The bar was at the top of Bridge Street so I nipped out during the evening to go down to the river and recollect thoughts and sights of my childhood. So much water has flowed down that river since those days, so many people come and gone, and still it looks remarkably the same with the notable exception of a swathe of Himalayan balsam clogging the right bank. It was close to the bridge that my Grandad Longfellow was born. The bar where we were, used to be a shop and, opposite, The Royal, where my Mum and Dad had their wedding reception, was a Costcutter. Change is good but somehow it didn't seem right to me. It was in Boston, many years before, that I realised I could read - it was at the bus stop which I could see from the bar; I could see that the bus was going to "Leeds" - not the hardest word to read I suppose. So America bound - and the rebound? Well a somewhat forlorn JP is home, now that his visitor status has expired. He is now contemplating the next step but while doing so he has the opportunity to spend time with his mother - and Uncle Hughie is over to visit her from Canada, which is nice for her, but now Eric has two invalids to look after.

Iron Man

Yesterday I received a phone call from Jonny who was looking for sponsors for the Iron Man he is doing on Sunday August 8th in Nottingham. The charity he has chosen to support is Overseas Anaesthesia Fund - Ruth's idea - and you can contribute by visiting the JustGiving website. Quite an undertaking when you think about it and even when you don't think about it - stepping into the unknown. Years ago, while I was at college, Emile Zatopek, Olympic gold medal winner in 5000m, 10000m and marathon (I think it was the first marathon he had ever run), all at the same games, said that if you wanted to run then you should run a mile, but if you wanted a new experience in life then you should run a marathon. On this scale, an Iron Man should take you into a different plane. He's done plenty of training, hopefully not too much, but it is still probably going to be the hardest thing he has ever done. Becky and James, Mum and I are going down to watch and offer encouragement. It is, however, a difficult event to spectate. In the 12-14 hours he hopes to complete it in, we might get to see him half a dozen times, if we stay to the end, as he passes by about every two hours.

Recent holiday

We are now back home after a wonderful break in the Rhine valley. We travelled on Eurostar to Brussels and on to Aachen by coach. After one night in Aachen the coach took us to Andernach on the Rhine and along its banks via a beautiful village/town called Bacharach, where we had drinks, and then on to Heppenheim where we spent two nights during which time we went to Heidelberg. After leaving Heppenheim, where we enjoyed the outdoor theatre, we went via Baden-Baden and the Black Forest to Strasbourg where we spent three nights. While at Strasbourg we went to the wine region of Alsace and the Vosges mountains, and had a beautiful tarte flambee in a cafe in Colmar. We came back to Paris on the TGV and then to St Pancras on the Eurostar. We had a great time and met some lovely people.

The first blog

This is my first attempt at this form of communication which is prompted by the fact that my son Stephen is on expedition in Borneo and is one means by which contact can be made. Being a complete novice makes me wonder how this will work and how the blogs get to be seen. My guess is that it must be more systematic and therefore more successful than putting a message in a bottle - but how I'm not sure. In some ways I feel as if I am casting these words into the wind, hoping that somehow, someone or something will bring them to their destination.

If this attempt is successful, I will continue with more, so keep searching Ste.

Love Dad