Our little motorhome has been fuelled and packed and it’s time to take another drive over to France. We decided to go over to France via Eurotunnel. The big drawback of course is that travelling from the northwest, it’s a helluva drive down to Folkestone. Not just the drive itself but we have to contend with the perils of the M6 and the M25, two of the UK’s busiest motorways.

What we did was take a break and stop at a place called the Bricklayers Arms in Sevenoaks. We parked up, had some food and drinks and entered the pub quiz. The next morning it was only a quick trip down to Folkestone and soon we were chugging smoothly along under the ocean and over to Calais.
We drove across to one of our favourite restaurants, Le Mas Fleuri. It’s a quiet family run place and the simple food is always wonderful. I have to say I sometimes wonder how the place survives as, certainly in the evenings, it is always quiet. Anyway, this time we were dining at lunchtime and we found that not long after sitting down, a steady stream of customers began coming in after us and soon the dining room was full. The French do love their lunches.
We left Lanzarote a few months ago fit and well after five weeks of swimming and sunning ourselves but the trip back via Jet2.com was on the most uncomfortable aircraft I have ever flown on and since then I’ve been suffering with a sore back. I went into our local doctor’s surgery and they told me that they now have a practice physio. The physio, who I’m sure was a very competent fellow, didn’t seem to feel it necessary to actually examine my back in any way but even so, he felt confident enough to recommend that I take some over the counter painkillers and undertake a series of exercises which he thought would help. I have been doing the exercises, not totally on a full time basis but I have done them, well some of them, but the pain has been gradually getting worse.
That’s perhaps not the best time to drive a motorhome over to France and it has been challenging to say the least. My back soon went from sore to very painful and from then on to some moments of intense agony. The pain started in my lower back, then after a few days migrated to my right hip and now seems to be remaining in my right leg. At one point the epicentre of the pain moved to an area in my lower back from where it sent out electrically charged bolts of pain down both legs to a point where it seemed like my legs would collapse. I’ve still got a lot of pain but recently, touch wood, I have not had any what I tend to call screaming agony attacks.
Luckily, since then I’ve tried to anticipate when the bad times will come and gulp down an appropriate amount of painkillers. The bad times usually come in threes; the first comes at about lunchtime when Liz is doing our late breakfast. (Sorry I can’t assist Liz, I’m in pain.) Secondly about 6pm to 6:30 when Liz is making tea (Sorry I can’t assist again) and lastly late on about 1am, our usual bedtime (Liz, any chance of a back rub?)
It’s difficult to deal with certain situations now, situations that previously I wouldn’t even think about. I’ve dropped my handkerchief/tissue on the floor. OK. How the heck am I going to get that? I can’t just bend over. I can’t reach down. It happened the other day in a restaurant and I had to kick it over to Liz and she managed to raise it up with her collapsible back scratcher and I just managed to reach it. Situation (only just) sorted. Other situations arise that I wouldn’t even think about. I need to have a wee but an electric shock is going through my right leg when I try to move. What can I do? Just hang on until the pain eases, I suppose. I suddenly have a new respect for disabled people,
These last few days it is my right leg that is throbbing quietly with an ache that gnaws at the inside of my thigh and makes it difficult to walk and also to sleep. Another interesting thing is that while I’ve been researching the issue over on Google and YouTube, looking for exercises that might help, a number of those mysterious things called ‘cookies’ have clearly latched themselves to my iPad because everywhere I go on the internet, I find little adverts from someone who has discovered the ‘real’ cure to back pain and sciatica.
I can download their quick self-help guide and even sign up (for a small fee) to their regular pain free back sessions and discover the ‘secret’ to a pain free life.
The other thing about this trip is the weather. It’s cold! We have been coming to this part of France and renting this same property in Parçay Les Pins for a number of years but this is the first time we have ever had to crank up the heating. Week one, pottering about in our motorhome was pretty warm and week two was a bit of a mixture, some warm and sunny days and some cold and overcast. Today as I write this it has been cold and wet.
We drove down to a local fête and vide grenier this morning. As it is a bank holiday Monday in France, we knew that the local supermarket was only opening until 12:30 so we popped in to update our diminishing cheese supply. There was no bread of course, the locals had come in early doors and removed all that but at least we had a few ‘bake it in the oven’ loaves for later and of course, some cheese.
Just round the corner there was a local fête taking place. The roads were closed off as usual but from what we could see when we arrived, the rain had caused people to pack up and only a few solitary stalls remained. OK we thought, might as well drive down to our local restaurant for lunch.
The Station Restaurant which we both love was closed so as the rain was easing off we went back to the fête to take a closer look at the few stalls remaining. We found that on the other side of the village square there were some classic cars and motorcycles, all gleaming and wet. The bar was open and also a full multi course restauration was being served. All we wanted was the usual sausage and chips takeaway and a glass of red so we looked at the classic cars and motorcycles, watched the display by the local dancers and then went back home for some bacon and eggs.
Yesterday we had a lovely swim when the clouds parted for a short while and a burning hot sun appeared. Somehow I don’t think today will be swimming weather.
As usual on holiday I always come armed with a stash of books and this year is no exception. A few of the books are ones I have dug out of a box at home and are ones I haven’t read for a while. One of them was Toujours Provence, a sequel to the successful A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle.
A Year in Provence has long been one of my favourite books. There are no gunfights or car chases. It’s a very gentle read, about the author and his wife deciding to move to Provence to live. The story of how they settle into their new home and their new country is told in a very easy going and humorous style. They have problems with their heating, they have a new kitchen built, they buy a great stone table for outdoor meals, the author describes the personalities of the locals as well as the restaurants and the wonderful meals they have there.
The follow up, Toujours Provence, is a slightly different book. There is no story linking the chapters together. Each chapter is like a short essay about all things French. Some are interesting and some are not and sadly, many fall into the latter category. One exception however is a chapter about writing that fits in totally with my own thoughts on the subject.
For most of the time, it’s a solitary, monotonous business. There is the occasional reward of a good sentence -or rather, what you think is a good sentence, since there’s nobody else to tell you. There are long, unproductive stretches when you consider taking up some form of regular and useful employment like chartered accountancy. There is constant doubt that anyone will want to read what you’re writing, panic at missing deadlines that you have imposed on yourself, and the deflating realization that those deadlines couldn’t matter less to the rest of the world. A thousand words a day, or nothing; it makes no difference to anyone but you. That part of writing is undoubtedly a dog’s life. What makes it worth living is the happy shock of discovering that you have managed to give a few hours of entertainment to people you’ve never met. And if some of them should write to tell you, the pleasure of receiving their letters is like applause. It makes up for all the grind.
In Peter Mayle’s case, various people have decided to not only write to him but sometimes to even seek him out and ask for his autograph on their copy of his book. One couple of complete strangers even arrived and made themselves comfortable in his house while the author himself was out on the patio. He only found them when he came inside for a glass of wine.
As for me, I’m happy with the occasional ‘like’ either on Twitter or Facebook or even here on WordPress but wait a minute, is that some sunshine breaking through the cloud? Time for a glass of wine on the patio!
Once again Liz and I are on holiday in France and as usual I’ve filled up my book bag with books to read. My selection this year was a mix of new books and some books from my collection which I haven’t read for years. The one I’d like to focus on this week is Random Harvest by one of my favourite writers,
The book tells the story in an entirely different way. It begins with a chance encounter on a train with Rainier and a young man who is looking for work. The two strike up a sort of friendship and Rainier invites the young man to work for him, He explains that he was in the war, was injured and woke up in a German hospital with loss of memory. He was repatriated through Switzerland but got his memory back after a fall and a collision with a taxi in Liverpool. The time between his earlier life and waking up in Liverpool is a blank. The young man becomes Rainier’s assistant and the two sometimes talk late into the night discussing what might have happened. Later in the book, Rainier is called to intervene at a dispute at the Melbury factory and his memory begins to return. He asks a local taxi driver about the hospital. The man asks does he mean the new or the old one? Rainier thinks the old one and goes on to describe it. ‘That doesn’t sound like either of them,’ answers the man but adds, ‘would you be meaning the asylum sir?’
One of my unofficial New Year’s resolutions this year was to try and declutter, perhaps actually get rid of some of my huge DVD collection. It’s not always that easy though. Mooching around one of those cheap secondhand shops recently I picked up yet another DVD. I’ll tell you about it in more detail later but it was one of the many films made about Robin Hood and his Merry Men.
Back in 1970 there were 13 races in the championship season but there were also a few non championship races; The Silverstone International, The Brands Hatch Race of Champions and the Oulton Park Gold Cup. This year there are a whopping 24 races on the calendar and no non championship races at all.

Back in the 1970s my Saturday ritual involved getting the bus into town and scouring book and record shops for, yes, you’ve guessed it, books and records. One day back then I was flipping through the posters in one particular shop. The posters were the music stars of the 70s; Elton John, Mick Jagger, Suzi Quatro, David Bowie and so on but one was a picture of a really good looking guy with a fifties combed back hair style. In some pictures he was dressed like a cowboy and in others in a red jacket and denim jeans. The guy behind the counter must have seen me wondering who the guy was and he told me he was a film star called James Dean. He handed me a paperback book about the actor and I took it home and read it and very soon I was trying to find out everything I could about him.
The paperback book I bought that day in the record shop in the 1970’s was probably James Dean: A Short Life by Venable Herndon. It wasn’t a great book but an interesting introduction to Dean and who he was. It detailed his struggle for acting roles, TV work in New York, his apartment at 19 West Sixty-Eighth Street, his three films, his doomed affair with Pier Angeli and of course his death.
Another book I picked up only recently was another picture album James Dean: Portrait of Cool edited by Leith Adams and Keith Burns. It’s an album of photographs found in the Warner Bros archive and some have not been published before. Included are all sorts of documents such as casting sheets, production notes and messages. Dean’s address is listed as 3908 West Olive Avenue which I think might have been a place he shared with Dick Davalos who played his brother in East of Eden. During Rebel Without a Cause, Dean was listed as living at 1541 Sunset Plaza Drive.

Every Thursday Liz and I visit our local pub for our weekly quiz night. It’s not a particularly tough quiz and we’ve even won it on the odd occasion but one thing we do in advance is check the internet to see if any celebrities have died as Mike, our pub quizmaster, tends to throw in a question or two about recently deceased celebs. One name that popped up on Google was that of OJ Simpson who passed away recently from cancer. I tend to watch the TV news most days so either I missed the story about OJ or perhaps these days his name isn’t as newsworthy as it once was. Simpson was 76 years old and a former US sports star, actor and allegedly a murderer.
OJ Simpson: Made in America is an outstanding documentary, released in 2016. It runs for over five hours and won an Oscar for best documentary. Episode one details Simpson’s incredible sporting career and also showed how it was important for him to be seen just as OJ rather than OJ the black athlete. He was apparently a friendly and amiable man who made many friends in the sporting world and kept himself well away from controversy and was never involved in the civil rights movement in America unlike sporting celebrities like Mohammed Ali. Later episodes show how he made a life after sport by becoming a TV sports pundit and by courting wealthy friends in Los Angeles to advise on his investments. In particular he made TV advertisements for Hertz car rentals which were highly popular and did well not only for Hertz but raised Simpson’s profile in the USA even higher.
This fascinating book is a detailed look at the 1995 murder trial of former US football player OJ Simpson. Simpson was accused of murdering his ex-wife Nicole and her friend Ron Goldman. The pair were murdered outside Nicole’s house in the Brentwood area of Los Angeles and bloody footprints were found leading away from the scene. Simpson’s car had blood traces with matches to both Nicole’s and Goldman’s blood. There was even a low-speed police pursuit of Simpson that was broadcast live on TV bringing in a reported 95 million viewers.
Charles Dickens is one of my writing heroes. He is a giant in the world of literature and the author of one of my favourite books of all time, David Copperfield. He was a man with an incredible imagination and was a prodigious producer of numerous books and stories. Many of his works are still loved and appreciated today and the magic of his story telling is also reflected in film and television adaptations of his work.

I create a graphic for my blogs every week using various image or graphic sites. The easiest one to use is probably Quotescover.com. It’s a very simple site that combines text and images or just text if you prefer. In Quotescover, you can very simply add your quote or in my case, blog title, add a name or the name of your website and click create. You can choose what type of image you want, for instance for a social media post, for Pinterest, or for a Facebook cover or whatever, then you have a choice of image shape; portrait, landscape or square. After that keep clicking ‘next fonts’ until you get the font that you like.



I retired in 2022 so I don’t have to get off to work every day and, unlike many bloggers and amateur writers, I don’t have to struggle for writing time. Even so, my motivation to get up and write next week’s blog post has been a little deflated by the bad weather. Still, in a few days we will be in April my favourite time of the year. The days are getting longer and warmer and soon Liz and I will be off to France in our small motorhome.
It’s a long time since I’ve made a video for my YouTube channel and recently I’ve been trying to think about what my next project should be. When I’m stuck for a video I tend to tweak or even remake some of the short videos I use on social media to promote this page and my two books. In fact my YouTube page is made up of quite a lot of videos like that as well as numerous short video versions of my poems. Every now and again I try and put something different together. I usually make a video about our yearly trips to France in our motorhome and I’ve made a few videos about Manchester, my home town and also the place where my book Floating in Space is set.
Most of Mersey Square, the square at the very centre of Stockport, was fenced off while the builders worked on the new bus station. A huge railway viaduct spans the centre of Stockport and the bus station or bus interchange as they are now calling it is mostly on one side of the viaduct with part of it spilling over onto the other side. Someone told me it was due to open in two weeks time but looking around, that seemed to be a pretty tall order.
I walked round to the other side of the bus depot and there opposite, what used to be the main exit for our buses, was the Comfortable Gill. The Comfy, as we affectionately called it, was the pub where we busmen used to drink after the day’s shift was over. At one time if a driver was due to finish after last orders at 11, the landlord used to accept telephone orders for a pint so sometimes we could pull in at 11:20, park the bus in the depot and then pop over to the Comfy to find a pint waiting for us to sup while we cashed up our day’s takings. When I saw it the other day the Comfy was all closed up and looked neglected. So many of Britain’s pubs have closed down and I walked away hoping that the Comfy might be saved in the near future.