Do you believe in ghosts?

August 20, 2005 · Filed Under England, Me · Comment

Phantasmic goings on at my parents place. My folks live in quite an old house, which was itself built from the stones of a yet older habitation. Builders recently eliminated some damp problems and seem to have released one of those souls who has not yet found his or her path to paradise or wherever it is one goes after vacating one's body on this earth.

So far, my dad has been shoved on two occasions, although nothing was seen to be doing the pushing. And both my parents have seen, at different times, a strange blue globe about the size of a tennis ball drifting along their upstairs corridor. At times my father hears doors closing and while we were staying my other half asked who had been shifting furniture around in the room beneath her. I knew that my mother had been passing through the room under where my other half was sleeping, but my mum did not move anything around, even if she did set a mouse trap, which is not generally one of the noisiest of operations, at least not from my experience, that is.

Ghosts?! Who knows? Strange? Very. Right, I'm off to haunt the sofa for a while to see if there is anything good on the telly.

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Got fat quick. Now it’s time to get fit quick!

August 20, 2005 · Filed Under Me · Comment

I'm going for it. Strict diet and I'm taking up running. Seeing as I'm now over four zero, I got a heart rate monitor, just to ensure that I don't end up giving myself a heart attack. Many moons ago I went through a running phase (did a gym phase too - but got bored (never met any nice women) and it was before the MP3 player age - Walkmans could not take the pace) and got up to something like 5 miles every couple of evenings, then I stopped. Can't remember why, but it could be connected to my knees which all but gave up on me while I was out hill walking.
I did take up mountain biking and stuck at it for quite a while, and I'm happy to say that my knees did not protest against this form of abuse, er, exercise. I used to go out on my bike quite regularly and did something like 50 miles a week at one stage. Then I came to Italy, had no car and found myself miles from hills and started to cycle to all the places around Milan and at this time I found that my knees would start to complain at around 50 kilometers, so I would turn round and come back again, racking up 100 kilometers a week, plus a few 20 or 30 km training sessions too. I guess I was quite fit, and I was 5 years younger too.

I'm going to build myself up slowly into this running thing and get at least 10 kilos off my long suffering torso - well, that's the plan……

My evil parents plied my with lots of wine, whisky and ginger, gin and tonics and pounds of food over the holiday. My waist line grew noticeably during the vacation with each heavy English style meal consumed and not assisted by my mum's industrial quantities. She also cooks very well, too. Too well for my own good. Well they do say that pleasure is often accompanied by pain.

At least I have not smoked since my pre-holiday lapse. Good old me.

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A place called Newcastle upon Tyne

August 20, 2005 · Filed Under England, Holidays · 3 Comments

I used to know Newcastle very well - firstly because I used to live nearby and secondly, because I went to school there. I even worked there for a few months and for me, for quite a few years, it was the only real city I really knew. You could say that it was my 'benchmark' for other cities, I suppose. I used to think - you will by now have noted the use to 'used to' a few times and will thus realise what it going to come next - that Newcastle was a cool place - full of life, lots of pubs, friendly people and good shops too. In all not that bad a place for someone in his twenties who roared (after I got an LC) about on a motorbike.

Before Xmas 2003 I had not been back to the city for quite a number of years, possibly more than 5 or 7 in actual fact, and in that time I had come to Italy and had seen places like Bergamo, Venice, Verona, Ferrara, Rome and Milan. After this dose of Italian cities and towns, I suppose you may be able to understand how I felt that humble Newcastle had lost all its lustre. This was back in 2003 and I felt that maybe I was still so full of Italy and all things Italian that I had not been too fair to the city where, at least partially, I grew up. This was why I was quite interested to return there this year and attempt to see it in a different light.

Well, I have to confirm that my mind must have been conclusively polluted by Italian beauty, so much so, that I found, once again, Newcastle to be drab, run down and grey. Shame, and very much a case of when I was there, I didn't know any better. Now, I can say that not much would get me back up to that particular city.

The people which populate this forlorn place in no way resemble the slick and sophisticated Italians. For a start, many seem horribly overweight (yes, I will admit to a bit the pot calling the kettle black - but I'm not 15 years old and 200 pounds). There is this strange phenomena too - all the kids start off as wonderful looking Nordic-babies, with blonde hair and all that, but at some point, quite possibly after 10 years of junk food and heavy northern cuisine they seem to be transformed into mini-heavyweights, after that they hit the beer and that's it. The majority end up carrying more pounds than they should and looking about as attractive as an overcast English sky. It's horrible to have to say this, but something needs to be done to get them and the city of Newcastle back on track.

I've had my fill of the place now and will certainly not be heading back there, not through choice anyway. There is one place though that I, sorry, we (my other half was not exactly overawed by Newcastle either) shall venture back to and that is York. I'll blog about it and our visit another time.

On a final note, I understand that the night life in Newcastle is pretty good, although I can't speak for it myself, other than saying that in the mid 80's it was good - but that is a long, long time ago. Showing my age, I am.

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