Canadian Pacific, carry me 3000 miles... We know a song about that...

 It had been a long time coming but we finally made it to Canada for our 30th wedding anniversary celebration, now our 33rd.

You will remember that a few years ago I was taken ill? Well, this caused us to miss out on the big holiday. Then COVID happened and it seemed that we would never get there. But we did. A couple of weeks ago we flew out from Heathrow and after a long flight, we landed at Vancouver International airport. I must say that airports in other countries are much more attractive than ours. Heathrow is a functional building, all concrete and melamine, whereas Vancouver was carpeted and there were native artworks and projected images all over the place. 

Anyway, to cut a long story even longer, we were picked up in a large SUV and taken to our hotel. 23rd floor, corner suite, open the curtains and there was a view out over downtown Vancouver that took our breath away.

Now to people like us who have only ever been to London this was a sight that was special. It ranked alongside our first view of the banks of the Nile when we went to Egypt. 

I'm not going to go on about what we saw or did, you'd get bored. I could show you the hundreds of photos we took, bored...🥱

This time I am going to wax lyrical about food, beer, and the ever-polite Canadians.

Food. North Americans seem to be able to put together a burger that is almost perfect. When I present a burger at a BBQ the minute that you bite into it all the filling tries to escape out of the back. Canadians put together a burger that stays inside the bun, almost as if it wants to be eaten. It is full of fresh ingredients, I even liked the pickles! 

I have found my spiritual home. The first menu I looked at almost made me cry with joy! Brussel Sprouts! As a starter, crispy and spicy and lovely in their cloak of green joy. 

Then there is breakfast. It seems that Canadians aren't big on brekkie. They seem to prefer brunch. However, there is Canadian bacon. Maple cured bacon. Crispy and tasty...

Now to beer. In England we have mass-produced beers. Lager, cold and fizzy. Ale, warm and insipid, sometimes harsh and bitter. Occasionally we get some good ones, I'm rather partial to Blandford Fly but, on the whole, they are pretty average. Even the microbreweries seem to make rather bland stuff. cloudy and dull. Feel free to prove me wrong.

But Canada seems to be able to brew beers that are fit for the Gods themselves. Sweet or sharp, cloudy or clear, fizzy or not. 

It just seems to me that British brewers are missing a trick. Maybe they are trying to be too clever or just aiming to keep the tradition of warm, bitter brews. The rest of the world has great beer, we have warm, insipid, brown liquid fit for the older gent with a beard and a cardigan. 

Canadians themselves are amazingly polite. Those in hospitality especially so. It may be an act as they want a tip at the end of your meal, but if it is, it is a well-practiced one. The act never seems to drop. They will seat you, automatically placing drinking water on the table, take your order and be polite and friendly all the way. Imagine that happening here. Everywhere we ate we would go back to in a heartbeat. From the Steamworks in Vancouver to the Umbrella bar at the top of Whistler Mountain. 

In the meantime, I need to get my act together and lose the weight I have put on with all this beer and burger.

Next time, spectacular places, bears, eagles, seals, and upgrades.

Have a great day!

Regards

Giant68 :-)

 I feel that I have been disowned by Half Portion, or Mini Giant68.  He reckons that I have turned to the dark side. 

What have I done to earn this? I am now the proud owner of a caravan.

For years I have been in agreement with Jeremy Clarkson, not something that many people will admit to, it seems. But caravans have been the bane of any driver's life on the road since the wheel was invented and the caveman decided to use it, or them, to hitch a box to the back of a dinosaur and go on holiday. But I have now joined that group.

Some years ago, we started out with a tent. We would load the contents of our house into the car, unload it in a field then, a couple of days later, load it all up and take it back home. I got tired of that. All that sleeping on an inflatable mattress on the floor was getting more and more difficult. So we moved up to a trailer tent, or folding camper if t=you want to be technically correct. It had sofas, proper beds, sort of, and a kitchen. That was great. It was like moving from a flat to a mansion. I could sit on the sofa, in the morning, with a coffee and my book while waiting for Mrs Giant68 to wake up. 

But we still had to get out in the night and go for a walk in the cold if we wanted to use the loo. 

Sometimes you don't want to have to wake up too much at 2am. 

So we decided that we needed a caravan...with a toilet. We went and bought one. So now I drive around  the countryside at the weekend dragging a tin box behind the car. It hasn't just got a toilet. It has a bathroom. With a shower. We have hot water, heating, beds, a cooker with an oven. And it is great. Waking up in the countryside, great views, birds singing, the smell of frying bacon. what more could a man want? Beer. Actually, a man would also want beer. Or copious quantities of alcohol, be it whiskey, brandy, rum or just plain and simple wine. 

I won't have a TV. There comes a line that, when crossed, you may as well stay at home. And the TV is on the other side of that line as far as I can see. 

We went to a site in Canterbury a while back and there was a camper van that had a bigger TV than I have at home in my living room. While they were all sat around inside watching Eastenders, or whatever, there was a marvelous sunset going on outside. The stars were starting to come out, as were the night creatures. 

One thing I have found; since I started towing this box around, is that it is not the caravans that are the problem. It is, generally, ordinary drivers. People who have no idea how to enter a motorway from the sliproad, forcing other drivers to either slow down or dodge them as they force their way on. I was under the impression that the sliproad onto a motorway is a lane where drivers should accelerate to match the speed of those already on the motorway. Several times lately, I have been forced to slow down to ridiculously slow speeds because some dickhead is joining the lane at 30mph. I have a caravan on the back, I can't always move over to lane 2 to make room, I know why truck driving friends get so stressed out. I can almost imagine what it is like to have 44t under my right foot. It is bad enough with 3.5t. 

With the caravan on the back, I am restricted to 60mph. Any faster and it becomes unstable. I am not permitted in lane 3. And there are other rules and problems. 

But in the end, I have a caravan. No.1 son thinks I have sold out. But I get reasonably cheap holidays. 

And, more importantly, I have a bathroom in that metal box.

Regards

Giant68 :-)

   

Big Chief Eagle Crest

 It's been a long time since I have written a blog, life seemed to get very busy, even with all the restrictions of the pandemic. But here I am giving it a go again.

Some time ago I wrote a blog about the stories that my grandmother used to tell when I was a young boy. They were all remembered, not written down, so once she passed away I thought that they were lost forever. Not so. You have already read about Bobtail Bunny and now you can read about Chief Eagle Crest. Bear in mind that these stories came from a different time, the world has changed and Indian means something different. Today we would refer to native Americans. But it was of its time. 

I feel that there should be more of it, that there is an ending missing from this but I'm not sure what it is. These stories were told to me over 50 years ago when all things were different.

Here it is:

Chief Eagle Crest

Dick found this box beside his bed

One morning when he woke.

“For the big Indian Chief,” it said.

It really was a joke.

He cut the string and peeped inside

And gave a whoop of joy!

An Indian outfit, fine, he cried

“I am a lucky boy!”

In half a minute I’ll be dressed

And then I’ll be Chief Eagle Crest!

Chief Eagle Crest has spied a Joe,

“Your doom has come!” he cried.

And fixed an arrow to his bow

Straight to the mark it flew.

The wounded paleface has to yield

It’s just a scarecrow in a field.

Then mounting on his trusty horse

The great chief rode astride

Until he reached a watercourse

A river deep and wide.

“I’m coming now to rescue you!” 

Called out the Indian brave.

“I’m paddling in my small canoe

Your life I mean to save!”

The maiden was indeed distressed

She’d fallen from the bank.

But just in time Chief Eagle Crest

Arrived before she sank.

He hoisted her in his canoe

She looked a dreadful sight.

And paddling swiftly to the shore

He took her to dry land once more

For she was dripping wet right through,

Her cheeks were pale with fright.

He set her on his trusty steed

And swiftly rode away.

“A squaw” he said “is what I need

So maiden you shall stay”

“And in the wigwam you will dwell

And hear the tales I have to tell”

He helped the maiden to alight 

Within a pretty glade.

A box of chocolates they shared

They are delicious each declared… 

Maybe one of you, out there will know how this ended. But, like Bobtail Bunny, it remains a Googlewhack.

Regards

Giant68 :-)

Seagulls to Newton

 

Random blogpost today. Possibly a bit surreal as well, sorry.

Yesterday I was walking around the school, you know I work in a school, right?, and I heard the sound of two arguing seagulls. This was quite quickly followed by the sound of something hitting the ground. It was an apple. It appears that these two gulls were arguing over the fact that one of the birds was holding an apple. WTF!!

I wonder what possessed a seagull to pick up an apple? ‘Ooh! Look! An apple! I feel a bit peckish and I fancy some fruit, I’ll grab it in my beak and take it up to the top of that lamppost and eat it…’ You will notice here that I am not really concerned with the fact that this falling apple, caused by Isaac Newton inventing gravity in 1687, could fall on a child’s head and kill them. I find it more intriguing that a bird, not known for eating whole fruit, has flown off with a rather large apple in its mouth.

Were they arguing over the logistics of the apple transport and ingestion when it was dropped? ‘Look, George, you can’t possibly eat that thing, it’s far too big. What do you intend to do with it when you get it home, peel it and slice it? ‘

‘Ung uun ung un… Sorry, couldn’t talk with that bloody thing in my mouth. I thought it might make a nice change from all the usual shit that we eat. We could get some flour and sugar and make an apple crumble. If you could lay some eggs we could make custard.’

‘You are a feckin seagull! What, on Earth, did you think we were going to make it in? We haven’t even got a kitchen!’

‘I didn’t think that far ahead. And now, because of that bloke Newton inventing calculus, I’ve lost the apple. And that big ugly bloke has picked it up.’

'I think you will find that the principles you wanted to refer to was gravity, not calculus. We need to be aware of why we don’t plummet to the ground rather than how we can figure out our change in delta v.’

‘Sorry. I’ll stick to nicking chips in future.’

I’ve got to admit to being very surprised at the size of the apple. I wonder how that would’ve looked on the RIDDOR report form? I blame Newton.

 

Regards

Giant68  😊

Your entitlement...

 

I am going to state, right at the beginning, that I am a grumpy old man. But then, you should know that already. I may have slipped a bit just lately but the grumpiness remains.

I am warning you now that if you don’t like what I write hereafter, tough. I don’t think that I am a bad person, just grumpy and getting more opinionated as the years go by and as the pandemic carries on.

A few days ago, Capt Tom passed away. We all know that he raised a phenomenal amount for the NHS by walking 100 laps of his garden before his 100^th birthday. People are now mourning him as If he was their father. Fine, nothing wrong with that. But are we doing it for the right reason? Yes, he raised a shitload of money. Yes, he walked 100 laps of his garden when he was approaching his 100^th birthday. Others could’ve done that and, indeed, they did. One lady was 104 when she walked to raise money. Capt Tom was the first and he captured the nations attention. His attitude was that of a generation that lived, and fought, through a world war, rationing and hardships of many kinds. He never implied any sense of entitlement or of being cheated out of anything.

My grandfather left school at 14 to work down a mine. Some of the money he earnt was used to pay for night school courses that led him to become a civil engineer. He became chief civil engineer in Nottingham. And on his journey through life he earned an MBE for services to the country during the war. Apparently, he planned dummy airfields for the Germans to bomb. He worked hard. He took only what he could earn in a world that was harder than it is today. And he died before he could enjoy his retirement. He asked for nothing.

Today I see on the local news that prisoners in an open prison are complaining that they have missed out on the furlough scheme. I see teenagers claiming that they have been cheated because they have been ignored by the government and their education is suffering. What are we becoming?

At one point this country was producing some of the best scientists and engineers in the world. Our armed forces were the envy of the world. Now? Not so much.

If you have been affected by anything contained in this blog feel free to sob to yourself in a corner.

Regards

Giant68 

Giant68 - The Plague Years

What did you do during the plague? Were you someone who thought that measures brought in to control the spread of the virus didn’t apply to you? Did you stay at home but whine about it? Or did you stay at home and follow the guidelines with the good grace of an adult with a sense of compassion and community spirit?

Either way, this virus caused all sorts of fear and panic. Death rates rising, stocks of toilet rolls plunging. Different kinds of rhetoric heard daily on the streets and on the TV.

Me? I was lucky, in a way. I still went to work every day. Mrs Giant68 went to work every 3^rd week, until she managed to dislocate her shoulder while playing cricket on the school field, MiniGiant was furloughed on 80% pay and No.1 daughter was furloughed on full pay.

Myself and Mrs Giant68 were classed as keyworkers and put in a bracket just beneath nurses, along with the binmen and shop workers. I don’t feel that we compared in any way to healthcare professionals, I was just doing the job I was paid for. Yes, I am a little scared of catching some virus that could kill me, after all, I am a 55-year-old man with heart disease and diabetes. But if you let the fear take over you may as well lock yourself away and never venture out ever again.

I am full of good intentions. While I am still working, I have plenty of spare time on my hands. We can't go shopping, or go out anywhere much, so what to do with all that spare time? I can finally get to teach myself how to play that ukulele, I want to learn Makaton, I can sign up for another online learning course….

4 weeks in and, while the garden is now tidy, I have done none of the rest of what I had so naively planned. But I have had video calls with friends far away and nearby. I have watched Starlink satellites float past overhead and photographed the moon and stars through my telescope, renewing my interest in hobbies surrendered to lack of time. So while I have learned not a lot I am still happy that I have come away with something. I reacquainted myself with the peace and beauty of the heavens, the peace and tranquility of a garden on a sunny afternoon and the pleasure of  good book. I hope that you have all gained something.

Although I have seen and heard things that haven’t been so pleasant. I have watched friends fall out over differing opinions, either scientific or political. It seems that in times like this everyone becomes an expert, or knows someone who knows someone who works with someone who…

Everyone seems to know better. Everyone seems to believe the rubbish that is published in the media, regardless of its source. I worry for friends when I see these arguments and I hope that when this is over they will kiss and make up. Me? I sit here and follow the guidelines given through official channels. I believe only those things I know as incontrovertible truths and I wash my hands and only go out for exercise and shopping. I will, however, achieve my goal of the Couch to 5k. Started yesterday and today I am buggered! But I will persevere.

Situations like this bring out the very best in some and the very worst in others. Ask yourself what its brought out in you. hopefully, it is the former and not the latter. Think Capt Tom rather than the Trumpster. 

And it has brought out some amazing examples of the dark humour of the British. I have laughed quite a bit. 

Look after yourselves. Follow the guidelines. Socially distance. It will pass. Things will get better and we will meet in the pub for a pint again. Stay healthy. Love you all.

And I really hope that my friends, newly moved to Somerset, finally see a Starlink satellite...

Giant68 😊

Interesting times at the moment, don’t you think? Virus, lockdown, no pubs, no restaurants, nothing really.

I have been lucky that I can still go to work, others, like Mrs Giant68, have to stay at home and try and avoid going stir crazy.

So what have you all done to try and relieve the tedium? I guess that those with kids haven’t had much chance to suffer the boredom of being home as the young’uns will be taking up most of their time while the rest is spent chucking gin down their throats. But I haven’t done a lot really. I have been off work for a couple of weeks, working in a school I still get the school holiday off this time. I have binge-watched a few things on Netflix and Amazon. I subscribed to the Disney channel so that I could watch The Mandalorian which, I hasten to add, I quite enjoyed.

Back in the 1970s there was a TV program called James Burkes Connections. I vaguely remember watching it and enjoying it. It seemed to be the start of the popular science scene that has lead to Brian Cox. In the program, James would follow a twisting trail linking one scientific discovery to others. It would start with a Roman Chariot and end with the space shuttle, or it would if the shuttle had been around in the early seventies…

I like all this popular science stuff, not that keen on Brian Cox to be honest, but the science is good. I read an interesting book recently that showed that the origin of the production line and mass production goes back to the American War of independence and the musket.  I used to watch Tomorrow's World when I was a kid, I bet a lot of you won’t be old enough to remember that or it’s original presenter, Raymond Baxter. Yes, I am old.

The other day I found a series seemingly based around the concept of the James Burke program. It is called Revolutions, presented by Jim Al Kalili. It shows that the telescope could have been in existence a thousand years before Galileo made one and found that Jupiter had moons and Saturn had rings.

But the most interesting thing I have discovered via this program is that Hedy Lamarr, film star and once voted the most beautiful woman on the planet, was also an inventor. She devised a way of guiding torpedoes to their targets during WW2. She also came up with the spread spectrum method which allows our smartphones to work without clogging up the airwaves.

I am a sucker for trivia like that. These things stick in my brain. For instance, the first traffic lights were in Parliament Square in 1868. Gas-powered with semaphore like flags as well as the red and green lights. Unfortunately, the next year they exploded and killed a policeman.

Voyager 1, launched in 1977 is now in interstellar space, having left the solar system in 2012, and is just short of 14 billion miles from home. In 40000 years it will be near  AC +79 3888, a star just over 17.5 light-years away.

Now, you can’t deny that those facts are fascinating, can you?

What I should be doing is learning the ukulele, something I have been trying to do on and off for a couple of years. Or maybe taking advantage of the many offers of free online diplomas. But where’s the fun in that?

Regards

Giant68 J

I really need to change that profile pic!