Purupuss's Purrings

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A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 860 times in 2015. If it were a cable car, it would take about 14 trips to carry that many people.

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You will see that I’ve finally posted yesterday’s entry, but that I haven’t put any photos in anywhere yet. That’s because I spent today doing washing, trying to sort out my bag, and making a start on my emails. I’ve read 33 and I still have 322 to go through and properly consider and file. If I’m anything like last time I went to England I skipped over D.C.’s emails intending to read them properly later, and they’re still sitting in her folder marked as unread. I have read them, but only when in England.

As next weekend’s Labour Weekend and we’re not going to Rangitoto, I should be able to sort out my photos then.

Till then, then.

Not only returned to base, but gone to bed and it’s only 2:42pm. And I know it’s 2:42PM!!!

Full blog entry tomorrow – if I wake up.

FAB

🙂

15 October 2015

I’m flying home today.

My plan was to get up at 6.00am and have a shower as we wanted to leave before 8.00am to ensure that we could safely manoeuvre Thunderbird Two to Wem Railway Station (which is more like two platforms.)

Of course I woke up at 4.00am and couldn’t get back to sleep. A couple of times I dozed, but would wake up a moment later. Once I was at Heathrow when I realised that I’d left my clock behind at Pen’s. I woke up and checked the time – which was about 5.00am.

This state of affairs continued, with me more or less giving up trying to get any sleep, when I checked the clock again.

6.11am

But I was getting up at six!!!

So I got up, grabbed my clothes, and went and had my shower.

We got to Wem Station with plenty of time to spare. I’d said goodbye to Seth, telling him that his mum wasn’t going away again, just that she was going to make sure that I safely left the county.

He and I have had this ongoing disagreement. His point of view is that the last mouthful of any piece of toast is his. My point of view is that toast is people food not dog food, and that any piece of toast that I’ve buttered and jammed is mine – especially when I’m travelling and want a full stomach… And would you please not slobber on me again?

We were almost the only ones on the train from Wem to Crewe. Pen was pushing Thunderbird Two for me, which was good of her as when she’d brought it home after the Fanderson Convention (remember I took hers to Yorkshire) she had problems. She got it to Wem okay and disembarked off the train onto the platform on the far side. Once her train had gone the barrier arms raised and she was able to cross the tracks to her side. Except that one of Thunderbird Two’s wheels got jammed in the tracks. This wouldn’t have been a huge problem except that the bells started clanging, the arms were lowered, and another train was on its way.

She had visions of stuff flying everywhere, calling me and asking how good my insurance policy is, and trying not to remind me of everything that I’d bought at the convention, when, with a final pull and a yank, she scrapped it free.

I wasn’t worried about the scratches. I’m just glad that the barrier arms are down for a good five minutes before the train arrives, and that she got herself and the bag out okay.

Once again the weather was fine. England’s been kind to me this visit, and even Saltaire wasn’t that bad. But today the middle of the country was quite overcast. However London was clear.

I gave Pen my excess notes – £24 – some of which she’ll give to the church at Clive as a donation, and the rest will go on Lottery tickets to see if we can win enough to travel around the world again.

What day is it?
I’m feeling a little discombobulated. I’m at present in Shanghai Airport and the time here is 11:19am. EOS is telling me that it’s 4:19pm and what I’m expecting it to be is 4:19am GMT or daylight saving time I don’t know.

I made it through the London train network okay. And I’ve got to say that I like Euston a lot better than Paddington. Once again it didn’t have lifts from the overground to the underground. I asked a station employee how I got to the Victoria Line to Kings Cross and he pointed to some stairs. I negotiated the first batch, carrying Thunderbird Two, but then a gentleman picked it up for me and carried it down the rest of the way. I was most grateful. But that wasn’t the only lot of stairs I had to negotiate. I’d no sooner reached the top of the next lot when another man offered to carry Thunderbird Two for me.

Brilliant!

I still got a little confused about which way to go, but caught the Euston to Kings Cross.

Then I had to find a way through Kings Cross to the Piccadilly Line.

Kings Cross has lifts! Yay!

The lifts aren’t well labelled. Not so good.

You have to get into the lift and then read a diagram that tells you that to get to the Piccadilly Line you need to take lift K. But the present lift didn’t have an obvious letter ID (aside from a “you are here” on the diagram) and there’s nothing pointing the way to lift K. (Or A, B, C, D, E, F, or G for that matter.)

So after a ride in the lift with a man who was just as confused as I was, I got out, asked a lady who pointed me in the direction as the same lift, and then as much by luck as good management, found my way to the Piccadilly Line. There was a train already there, but I wasn’t going to take the chance that it wasn’t mine. I don’t know if it would have worked, but as the train to Heathrow Terminals 1, 2, 3 and 5 was coming in four minutes, I wasn’t going to panic.

The train was full when it arrived, but the bag parking area was free, so I parked Thunderbird Two and leant against it. One good thing about it, it’s the same height as the bottom of my camera pack, so I could rest it on it. At the next stop the lady in the seat beside me got out, so I claimed that seat, meaning that I could keep an eye on Thunderbird Two, but that it was out of the way.

There were no issues with the trip to Terminal Three at Heathrow.

First thing to do when there was offload Thunderbird Two. I didn’t fancy pushing it around any further. That was fine and I got a slip saying that it was going to be sent straight on to New Zealand, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it at Shanghai.

Then I realised that I hadn’t topped up Pen’s Oyster Card (London Transport travel card). I had a £5 note in my bag so I put that in the envelope with the Oyster Card and found the Royal Mail box.

After I’d had my lunch, which I’d brought from Pen’s, and bought a lemon and ginger drink – and realised that I still haven’t tried the dandelion drink that I saw last time – I had a quick look around the shops.

Then it was the twenty minute walk to gate 22.

I sent a final text and posted a Tweet.

My flight from London to Shanghai was with Virgin Atlantic. There are some things that they do better than Air New Zealand, and some that they don’t.

·    Their toilets aren’t as good. Including not having murals of the sky, or a “library” of books about flying or gently teasing about flying and New Zealand.
·    They supply you with a goodie bag with toothbrush, flight socks, eye mask, earplugs (too big and fell out), and I think a lip balm.
·    Their seats aren’t as comfortable. (I think. I’m going to check that out in a couple of hours.) Both airlines have curved headrests that you can slide up and down, but Virgin Atlantic’s didn’t come down far enough to support my head. Also Air New Zealand’s headrests have “wings” that can be adjusted for your comfort.
·    They had the temperature turned up too much. I like to have something to tuck under my chin when I sleep, but it was too hot to even contemplate taking the blanket out its bag. Air New Zealand’s much cooler.
·    Virgin Atlantic’s safety video isn’t as entertaining as Air New Zealand’s. (Even if Air New Zealand is using the All Blacks instead of Thunderbirds.)

I didn’t get much sleep. I could have happily nodded off at the beginning of the trip when I had to stay awake for the safety briefing, but when it was time to sleep I couldn’t.

The meals were all right.

The guy in the seat next to me was having a good ol’ exploration of his nose, and wiping the residue on his blanket. Pity the poor airline staff.

We arrived in Shanghai.

I made sure that I’d gone to the toilet before the plane went into lockdown mode, so I thought I’d be fine. But as soon as I got off the plane I had to go again. Probably nerves.

There was one Air New Zealand staff member waiting to offer guidance, and I checked that I was the same flight as hers, and that was the last help I had from them. They weren’t as helpful with their directions here as they were in L.A. Maybe because this was going to be a five hour stop over.

I decided that I’d better take care of nature’s needs before I got into the queue for security. As that queue was long, I didn’t think it would be an issue.

They move fast in China. There was hardly anyone left by the time I emerged. I found someone I had a good idea was a New Zealander and who was filling in a form and I asked if I was in the right place. They didn’t think so. So I checked with a staff member and he said I had to get into the original queue, but that I didn’t need to fill in a form.

I got up to the counter and I had to have filled in a form. But the security guy was very nice about it. He directed me to the appropriate desk.

The pen leaked and I ended up using my own.

I went back to the same security guy and gave him my paperwork and told him the pen was leaking and he gave me a tissue to clean it off my hands.

Then he called an associate over.

They both examined my passport, paperwork, and ticket, gave me the departure part of my form – and then let me through.

There was a button arrangement on the counter to give feedback on the staff member. I gave him an excellent service rating with a big smiley face. If all security was like that, going through airports wouldn’t be that stressful.

I went in search of the toilet AGAIN! This time to wash the ink off.

I came across a HUGE queue for the baggage collection, but nothing obvious for if you didn’t have to collect your bags. I couldn’t see an information counter, so I asked a cell phone sim card provider if there was one. No there wasn’t and I think we confused each other with our English. And yes, I tried not to gabble.

Keeping an eye on the conveyor belt in case a pink suitcase with white polka dots popped out, I joined the queue and was directed straight through.

Now to find Terminal 2 and Air New Zealand.

Although all the signage was in Chinese and English, it still wasn’t easy to find Terminal 2. Terminal 1 was clearly signposted. Upstairs was departures, so I took a gamble.

It was Terminal 2.

It is HUGE! (But not as impressive as St Pancras.) It was divided into zones lettered from A to M. Each of those zones had 30 check in counters. Surrounding that was a mezzanine floor, some shops, seating, and plenty of walking and queuing space. Like I said, it was huge.

And there were a lot of pink suitcases, but none were pink with white polka dots and black scratches.

Out of zones A to M, which one was Air New Zealand’s? I found a board which told me it was bay B.

Turn right or left?

After a brisk walk down to bay B I went up to the Air New Zealand counter.

First thing: Was my bag going straight through to Auckland?

I could breathe a sigh of relief. Yes, it was. So I checked in and settled in for a long wait.

I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast (which was only fruit, yoghurt and an orange juice. I’m baconed out.), which was about seven hours ago. I can’t recognise any of the foods here and I’m not sure about paying for anything. I guess that if I was desperate I could use my credit card. I hope Air New Zealand are quick feeding us.

I did recognise the Walls ice cream logo and they have “Pringles”, but they’re not really things I want for lunch.

Since I’d been sitting down for 10.5 hours and I’m going to be sitting down for another long haul, I did a brisk lap of Terminal 2. I found one place that appeared to be selling buns. The decorations on them reminded me of hot cross buns, but the cross was blue and white stripes, so it looked as if they knew the product, but didn’t get the idea behind it.

The buns also looked a bit uneven and messy.

I got closer and realised that they were restrained crabs.

I left.

I don’t know how big the airport is, but outside looks mighty hazy.

A note about airport toilets here (the two subjects are unrelated). I don’t know if it’s an international thing, but you walk into a cubicle of the ones here and they’re already ¾ full of water. Is it broken?

I took a chance.

I’d finished when it burst into life and the whole lot was sucked down the drain. The pan was then refilled from the bottom rather than under the rim as ours do.

Talking water, they have water fountains on Terminal 2. You can have warm, hot or boiling. Some people had bought themselves instant noodles and were cooking them with the boiling water. I keep on drinking water to keep myself hydrated and feeling hungry.

The second water fountain I tried wasn’t working properly, so someone came over to help me. He couldn’t get it to work either, and in the end supplied me with a paper cup (one of those conical ones like at Bath) of boiling water.

Oh, well. Blowing on it to make it cool took up a few minutes.

I’m glad I’ve got Kally to keep me company. I just wish she was better at minding the bags.

I think I’ll go for another lap of the building.

The place is kept spotless. It looks like every public facility is looked after by two dedicated staff – two women for the ladies’ and two men for the… You’ve got the picture. And I’ve found three toilets so far so that’s 12 people employed just to keep the toilets clean. And there are always people wondering around with dustpan and brushes to sweep up the tiniest bit of dirt and to check if the rubbish tins need emptying.

And they try to keep you entertained. There was a quartet of a cello, violin, flute and piano playing before. Plus a giant Wii-type games console that was a video camera of the concourse as you walked by… at a little slower than my usual speed.

EOS is telling me it’s 6.00pm. Hopefully that means its 1300 hours. Quarter of an hour and I can head to the gate for another hour’s wait. A pity I couldn’t get the WiFi to work, but my phone didn’t want to talk to it.

Second leg. It’s now 2.16am according to EOS. 9.17pm in Shanghai according to the inflight information. Also our altitude is 11,278m (37,000’), and our ground speed is 869 km/h (540mph). And we’ve still got four hours 38 minutes to go. It looks like we’re currently over Papua New Guinea.

I managed to get through Chinese security okay. It’s odd the way that different countries expect different things. America’s the only place where you had to take your shoes off. China insists that you put your keys into the tray. None of them worried about Kally.

And you work your way through the grey, sterile efficiency with unsmiling officials trying to keep their country and all flyer safe, and then find yourself in another world of sparkling lights and glitter and colours and a request to buy, buy, buy before you say bye-bye.

I didn’t buy.

I was pleased to see the Air New Zealand plane though. It meant I was finally on my way home. A ten hour 44 minute trip.

Air New Zealand fed us about an hour into the flight and then I settled down to try to catch up on my sleep. I think I managed a comfortable hour, which isn’t great, but it was refreshing and a relief to know that I was at least going to have some sleep in 48 hours.

Time to destination: 4.33. Outside temperature -40°C.

11:01am. Only 11:01? At least I now know that EOS is telling me the correct time.

D.C. and I are sitting in Esquires on the corner of Hobson and Victoria Streets in Auckland, New Zealand. I’ve just had a spinach and feta roll and a cup of Manuka Mint Tea.

And there’s a little two seater Mitsubishi car (like a Smart) parked out front, Ego plate SQOTTY.

The flight home was good. As we drew closer I kept thinking “Only three hours to go… Only two hours to go… Only…”

The onscreen display showed us our flight path and I was thinking that I was on the wrong side to see land as the plane tracked down Northland. But I could see (through the windows on the other side of the plane) what looked to be a glorious yellow sunrise. The clouds on my side were definitely lovely to look at from above.

I figured, with the way the aeroplane was facing on the display, that I wouldn’t get to see Rangitoto. We were either facing nose onto it or, when the plane turned, it was going to be on my side, but towards the rear of the craft so I’d have to stand up to see it, and by that stage the “seatbelts done up” sign was on.

We dove into the fluffy white clouds to be surrounded by a cushion of white. We continued descending, finally emerging from under the clouds. What was the first thing I saw out the window on my side of the plane (I try to get aisle seats), but Rangitoto!

I teared up at seeing that.

Now typing at home, at my PC, the following day.

Getting my bag and through customs wasn’t as bad as I thought it would have been. I declared my hot chocolate sachets and my sheep-dirtied shoes (explaining that they had been thoroughly cleaned after a hike across the Yorkshire Dales, but that I’d wandered through two sheep-infested areas since then…

“Are the shoes you’re wearing now the ones you wore?”

“No. They’re in my bag.”

“But they’re clean now?”

“Yes.”

“Go left.” Through the green exit.

From there it was only a short walk to tear up again when I saw D.C… Who was frantically trying to get a photo of me leaving the international arrivals area.

Like mother, like daughter.

Then it was catch the bus to the city (we had hoped to get to direct to the SkyTower, but the bus stopped in Queen Street) and then I had to push Thunderbird Two, with D.C. steering, up the hill to the lockers. We locked it away while we went back down the hill and got my watch from Michael Hill Jewellers. Remember that incident from day one?

We were rather surprised to see an aeroplane parked in the middle of Queen Street outside the Civic Theatre. Upon closer inspection we realised that it was the nose of a jumbo-sized vehicle and was something to do with Air New Zealand being 75 years old. We would have had a closer look, but it wasn’t open at that point.

Back up the hill for lunch, to retrieve Thunderbird Two from the locker, to thank our kindly bus driver who put it into the bus, promised us the front seats, and let us go and sit down instead of queuing.

I dozed for most of the ride home. But we had to walk (pushing Thunderbird Two) the last bit.

We arrived home to discover that the ceiling over the bathroom had linked – dripping water over the light fitting, pooling on the floor, and doing a right out the door, left turn to the dining room, and soaking the carpet. I put a bit of electrical tape over the light switch to stop us from automatically turning it on.

And then went to bed at about 2:45pm.

I woke up again at 7:30… pm (same day).

After a little dinner I went back to bed. And slept until 6.30am the next morning.

And I’ve still got Chinese security ink on my hands. I have washed them since – Honest!

14th October 2015

This morning for breakfast I had a “pour water into a prepared mixture in the packaging” pottle of cinnamon porridge. It wasn’t bad. Tomorrow I’m trying a different brand that’s apple and cinnamon, but don’t expect to hear about it for a few days.

Tomorrow I’m flying home.

I’ve had a ball and everyone I’ve stayed with has been more than hospitable and made me feel more then welcome, but I’ve got to say that I’m looking forward to my own home, my own bed, and of course D.C.

East or west (or north), home is best.

But maybe not work. 😉

The weather forecast for tonight’s temperatures is 5°C. This is partly the reason why today is the first time this whole trip, that I’d chosen to wear my Thunderbirds jumper. The only other time I wore it was when at the convention and I had to go down to the lounge to access the Internet in my PJs.

Today we went back to Ludlow. A) I had to collect the gift the church hadn’t put in the packaging and B) Both Pen and I wanted to check out the castle. Also there was a walk showing you the highlights of the town at 2.30pm, that we thought would be interesting.

We’d been trying to work out the best place to park the car – somewhere that offered longer than the three hours we had on Monday. Then Pen thought of the park and ride. This was a brilliant idea as the parking was free and the bus into Ludlow was £1.50 each.

We got out of the bus at the same square that we’d parked at two days ago. First stop was the church, where I got the thing I’d bought.

Then we went to the castle.

Yes, it’s a ruin, but what do you expect for something that was originally built from 1086 and then built on during the subsequent centuries?

What can I tell you about it?

It’s got steep steps…

… although not as steep as the church’s.

But you can see why the Normans chose to build there.

I can’t really tell you much else, but we enjoyed looking around. Just enjoy the photos when I get around to posting them.

Just know that we had a couple of very nice hot chocolates – served in a pot!

As we had planned to go on the 2.30 walk, we decided that we’d better buy the tickets for it. Pen went to ask where you got them from…

She came back and told me that they’re only operating them in the weekends now.

So we found the information centre and got a self-guiding map and did the tour around town. And got more photos of Wonky Tudor – Tudor we hadn’t seen nor photographed before, Tudor we had seen and photographed before, but not from this angle, and Tudor I’d probably already photographed from this angle, but who cares? It fascinates me.

As we waited for the Park and Ride bus we were serenaded by what Pen thought were performing arts students – one of who was strumming a ukulele with some talent.

Ludlow’s a funny town. It bills itself as one of the most interesting towns in the country, has a huge variety of building styles from a multitude of eras, has the Park and Ride to enable people to access it easily and cheaply; and yet its information centre is hidden away on the second floor of a not clearly marked building and the only souvenir shops are in the castle and the church. It’s almost as if they don’t really want tourists.

We did consider stopping off to have tea somewhere (my shout), but Pen wanted to get home to Seth, who’d been stuck indoors all day apart from when his dog sitter came to give him a walk.

So we came home, I settled into the challenge of packing my suitcase (much easier with a pink polka dotted Thunderbird Two, than Pen’s little tiddly thing), and Pen took Seth for a walk and then ordered some Chinese.

And now Seth is curled up on his bed – snoring.

Only one more day to go.

Today was another watery day, but not from the sky.

Blog to be posted tomorrow, but with the fickle Internet I’m giving up on posting photos until I get home – that’s if I’m awake enough to do so on Sunday. Otherwise you’ll have to wait until next week.

But you can always go to my Flickr account before then. I’ll try and post the address here when the Internet’s working.

Like now… https://www.flickr.com/photos/purupuss/albums

13 October 2015

I didn’t have any nocturnal visitors last night… That I’m aware of.

But I have got a little bit of a cold and when I put the light out I started coughing – just enough to be annoying. So as I’m sleeping on a bed that converts into a chair on the floor, I “top and tailed” it so my head was raised, and went straight to sleep.

This morning we readied ourselves to set off to Anderton with two goals in mind. But first I rang the St Laurence Parish Church to say that the box I’d bought hadn’t had what I’d really bought in it. They got Pen’s mobile number so they could check it out and ring back, which they did just as we were getting into the car. So we told them we’d collect it tomorrow. We had already decided that we both wanted to check out the castle there, which we’d only seen from beyond the moat (if it has a moat), so we were heading back to Ludlow anyway. Seth’s going to have a dog sitter come and walk him, so we won’t have to worry about leaving him in the car.

Finally underway, we drove north(?) to Anderton, or more precisely the Anderton Boat Lift.

In the Victorian era and before, the canals were the roads of the nation. Then railways came along and provided a quicker way to get goods around the country. Then came the automobile and roads…

But back to canals and the Anderton Boat Lift. South(?) of Liverpool (the Internet’s not working to check) two watercourses ran parallel to each other. The River Weaver and the Trent and Mersey Canal. Industries, such as salt extraction, needed a quick (and in the case of potteries) careful way to get their wares to their markets. The T&M Canal was had a major bottleneck where narrowboats had to pass through tunnels.

Know the saying “Legging it”? That comes from the days when tunnels were too small for horses to walk through, meaning they couldn’t pull the narrowboats. This meant the crew had to lie on the deck and push the boat through with their legs – legging them.

Anyway, tired of the legging process holding up things, the decision was made to join the two waterways together. The problem? The T&M Canal was 50 feet above the River Weaver.

So, in 1875, the decision was made to create a boat lift.

This worked by two huge water tanks called caissons, sealable at each end, being raised and lowered. They were on huge hydraulic pipes filled with water. A little water was released out of the bottom caisson making it lighter than the top one. The weight of the top caisson would push the water out of its hydraulic pipe, across a joining tube, and into the lower caisson’s pipe, pushing the lower boat up and lowering the top boat down.

This counterbalanced operation was simple and effective. Except that the water with its high salinity was very corrosive on the iron parts.

In 1908 the hydraulic system was replaced by a steam-powered electrical one and huge counterweights instead of the seesaw-type arrangement. This worked fine until an inspection in 1983 found it to be unsafe.

It was nearly scrapped.

Fortunately there are people who care about the history of transportation and English waterways and they fought and fundraised to repair the boat lift until it was usable again – this time reverting back to almost its original hydraulic design. This was completed in 2002.

We arrived there and immediately set off on a dog walk to enable Seth to stretch his legs and do what he had to do. Then he was returned to the car and we watched the boat lift in operation. Pen thought that we could try to get on it, but I wanted to ensure that I got exterior photos. The sky was growing dark, something I hadn’t really seen this trip. We saw the wide narrowboat (a 14 footer) exit the boat lift, turn around, unload and reload people and then re-enter the boat lift, but we couldn’t really see any action.

We decided to buy our tickets for the next ride.

“Thank you. That will be at 2.15pm.”

“But it’s 11.30am now.”

There were only two boat lift operations happening today and two river cruises. And we’d missed one. If we were to catch the second trip we’d miss seeing Jodrell Bank.

I thought I’d rather have a ride in a narrowboat and a go on a Victorian boat lift than see a bunch of radio telescopes – even if observatories are interesting.

To make things even more interesting, a school party of 36 children were booked into the afternoon ride. The boat could take 50 odd.

We bought our tickets, had a look at the downstairs museum. Incongruously this is where the control room is and we could see a bank of CCTV screens showing the various parts of the operation.

After that we went and got Seth and had our lunch… And watched an industrious squirrel hunting for acorns. We don’t know if the one it found was its or if it had pinched it from another.

After a quick walk around a track designed to explain about the extraction of salt nearby, I went back to the Anderton Boat Lift shop and Seth and Pen went for another walk.

They had Thunderbirds merchandise for sale. Original Thunderbirds merchandise for sale. (And a Scalextric mug – sorry, Steve.) I quite liked the Thunderbirds alarm clock, but nothing had prices on it and if it’s not priced, I’m not buying.

We decided to have a look around outside and try to see the boat lift side on. I have to say that, even though I’m not a Star Wars fan, the business end of the boat lift reminded me of those big walking things they have in one of the films. It’s the white control building and the long legs that does it.

The kids were already on the boat when we got there. The crewman who was going to let us and two other adults board gave us a safety briefing before we did. “The first thing to remember…” he begins.

“Is to watch out for the kids,” I finish. He laughed.

Actually they weren’t badly behaved.

The rear of the boat was open topped, but I couldn’t see that bit being open to the public. Nevertheless I asked the crewman, Andrew, and he confirmed it. But he did say that I could stand on the steps so long as I didn’t go past the top one. That was easy to do as he’d put a rope across the entrance anyway.

Once the boat had got underway, with the skipper giving a very good explanation of the boat lift – pitching it so he wasn’t talking down to the adults, but the kids could understand – I went to the rear of the boat so I could get photos unimpeded by the windows.

The actually lifting operation itself is very slow and Andrew talked to me as we rose up – as well as getting me a photo of the two narrowboats in the other caisson. He pointed out the welding and the patches in the steelwork above us – the bit where the 1908 electrical system operated. He said that steel was about an inch and a quarter thick… and during the 1983 inspection, the inspectors discovered that this was so corroded that you could put your finger through it. (Sounds like our chimneys at home.) The patches and welds were to hide the holes. So the top bit is totally unrelated to the workings of the boat lift and could be removed and the operation would continue without issue. It only remains there for historical reasons.

The counterweights that had been used during the days of electrical operation had been put to one side and made into a maze. From a lookout above them, we’d had fun watching a dad and his two young children run around the maze hunting for each other.

They’d had fun too.

The skipper told us that with all the counter balancing the electrical operation was so efficient, that it only used the amount of electricity required to boil a kettle. He also pointed out that the cogs that lifted the lift were a chevron shape – like the logo of the Citroen Car Company. That’s because that kind of design is less likely to slip and is supposedly quieter than regular cogs.

It took about half an hour from the moment that the narrowboat entered the boat lift till when it finally left it. Pen and I had discussed this and she, having had narrowboat holidays, pointed out that time means nothing once you’re on board. As for freight it was still quicker and smoother than travelling by coach or around the coastline to the port requiring the freight.

I asked Andrew why we seemed to be sitting still for so long in the boat lift and he replied that we were actually moving. But the boat lift was so old that they were being cautious. Once upon a time the operator would look at the water level within the caisson, look at it in the lock, think “that’s about right” and release the lock. Nowadays the computer keeps an eye on things and until the water level is only a tenth of a millimetre different, they won’t open the lock gates.

We got dripped on by the lock gates as we passed underneath them.

Andrew pointed out the freshwater mussels growing on the gates. It was a sign that the water was fresh as they were fussy about their environment. They were the same colour as the gates because everything was covered in a very fine silt.

Once the 14’ (as opposed to 7’) narrowboat had moored, we returned to the car and Seth.

Our next stop was Whitchurch – the town famous for clocks it makes – including the one in St Paul’s Cathedral in London. It was a very photographic town, but they really didn’t have to go to the effort, just because I’d arrived, and put bunting up for me.

When Pen went to the supermarket, I had a look around the St Alkmund church. Firstly it was nice because I was the only one there. But it was interesting because there were three complete stained glass windows, but all the rest were plain, paned glass – apart from one that had two crosses in the panes, clearly made from the old windows. According to the Internet they lost the old windows through age.

We bought some baking from a bit of Wonky Tudor that was made in the 1450s and had a new front added in the 1800s.

At the less architecturally interesting supermarket I bought some Thyme flavoured/infused lozenges for my cough. They tasted badly enough that they should have had some effect and they did. My cough sounded much stronger.

After a hot chocolate, we headed for home.

This evening we watched “The Imitation Game” starring Benedict Cumberbatch as Alan Turing. As it was partially set during his time at Bletchley Park, we thought it would be interesting to see what had been filmed there, what was accurate, and what they’d Hollywoodised.

The most obvious change (apart from the fact that Bletchley Park itself had a stunt double) was that the number of code breakers had been condensed into five men plus one woman to represent all the personalities who worked there. Gordon Welchman wasn’t even mentioned, but you could see him portrayed in Benedict Cumberbatch and one other actor’s characters. And the timeline was changed. Plus they used the plot device of Turing, after his arrest for “indecent acts”, telling a cop what he’d done while at Bletchley when the reality was that he was still bound by the official information act and would never have spoken a word to anyone.

What annoyed me was the emphasis placed on Alan Turing’s homosexuality. Yes that was an important part of who he was, and dictated the horrible way that the state treated him after all he’d done during the war at Bletchley, but it had nothing to do with his work, his struggles to get The Bombe working, and the decisions they had to make afterwards. What intercepts did they act on and which did they ignore? They had to rely on statistics to do enough to ensure that the Allies won the war, but not so much that the Germans would realise that the Enigma code had been broken.

But it was still a good movie.

• Sunglasses case
• On a train or Shrewsbury station.
• Still lost

• Camera lens cap
• Put into belt bag
• Found

• Bag of 20 pound coins changed at the convention for donations and autograph signings.
• Put into camera bag
• Found

• Four USB port charger with English adaptor plug
• Probably fell out of bag when changing seats in the Leeds to Birmingham New Street Station
• Still missing

Hopefully that will be all.

WordPress (or my internet connection) is acting up tonight, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to upload anything.

It’s acting up this morning too. So fingers crossed you at least get the text.

Except that it’s putting photo here.

High Street

Seth waits patiently

Wonky Tudor

Wonky 1677 Tudor

Mock Wonky 1974 Tudor

The house with the two dates

Wooden nails

12 October 2015

It’s 11:21 (pm) and I’m only just starting to type today’s blog. I think this’ll be a finish in the morning job – again.

Our first trip is a tour around Wem. Wem’s the town where Pen lives – population 5000 odd and some Wonky Tudor.

I’m sure you understand that “Wonky Tudor” isn’t a technical term. But it is descriptive. And it became our theme of the day.

Wem’s main street is so small, that a traffic jam is a car waiting for pedestrians to cross the crossing. It has been known for a bus and a tractor to meet each other head-to-head. What is unknown is what the result of that meeting was. It is the town where the sweet pea was first cultivated. It had a major fire in 1677, so most of its buildings, according to Pen, are “new”.

Yes…

Right…

Tudor, and not necessary the Wonky variety, is the generic name we’re using for the style of building that is usual white with and his half-timbered with wooden supporting beams. Wooden nails were driven through the beams as they would both dry out and move with each other – holding fast.

Holding fast, but not necessarily holding straight. This is where what I call Wonky Tudor comes in.

But not all of Wem is built of Tudor, Wonky or otherwise.

Once we’d toured Wem, we set off for Long Mynd – a “Heath and moorland plateau” in Shropshire. We could have chosen one of three walks of different lengths and difficulty and settled on the shortest – at one to one and a half hours. – One that led to a waterfall. As this was a dog friendly area – so long as you didn’t allow your dog to upset the local sheep – Seth came with us.

Parts of the track were almost rocky steps that took a bit of effort to scramble over and we were glad that it hadn’t been, and wasn’t, raining. However we were a little concerned. The weather was another “blue dome day” when we left Wem, but by the time we’d reached the waterfall, the sky was becoming overcast.

The irony is that if it had been, or was, raining, then the waterfall would have been so much more impressive – and the walk back down would have been trickier.

Once we’d completed the Long Mynd walk we headed off to Ludlow. In some respects, Ludlow is like Wem – only bigger and with more cars trying to fit into the same narrow streets and getting in the way of photographers.

Lunch was a Scotch Egg for Pen and a delicious sandwich (Sandwich! That was a filled roll!) with local cheese, Ploughman’s pickle and I can’t remember what else – but it was very messy to eat. Especially as we were walking and eating and taking photos with a manual zooming DSLR camera.

But Ludlow has an excellent selection of Wonky Tudor. Especially The Feathers. This is a hotel that, when built, was showing off the owner’s wealth in the amount of wood used in its construction. Nowadays what’s awe inspiring is the fact that it hasn’t fallen down. We decided we were ready for a hot chocolate and decided to have it in there. In the reception area the floor’s just as wonky as the exterior. But they have relaid it so it’s flat in the bar/café area.

They’d run out of marshmallows, so the “barman” kindly gave us a pack of chocolate chip biscuits (that was the label on the packet!) to compensate. It was a very nice hot chocolate.

We worked off that hot chocolate and the two biscuits in the packet by climbing the 199 steps (a couple less than Leeds Town Hall at 209) in the St Laurence Parish Church tower…

Church seemed to be understating it a tad.

Going down…

We clambered up the tight disorientating steps and enjoyed the views from on top – glad that we’d ascended before the 4.00pm bells pealed and then played a rather repetitive version of “Onward Christian Soldiers.”

It was while we were inside St Laurence Parish Church that I ran out of “film”. Of course, because we were just wandering around town, I’d chosen to leave my bag in my car and didn’t have my spare SD cards with me. Pen was worried about Seth because we’d left him in the car, so she left me her camera and went to give him a walk.

I didn’t have to use her camera – just as well as she hasn’t set the date right on it. I find this bemusing (and when a copy is saved on my computer extremely annoying) as she has a strong interest in archives and history and yet isn’t recording her own history accurately. It means that every photo she’s taken was taken in December 2007, which is where the photos are stored in the computer. But as I managed to delete about ten less than ideal photos and reduce the settings on my camera, I managed to keep using it instead of hers for the next sixty odd shots.

I bought some souvenirs in the church as gifts when I bought our £3.00 tickets to climb to the top of the tower. I bought somethig as a gift, but when I got “home” I discovered that the gift’s not in the box. I’ll have to ring them up and tell them. Fortunately we hadn’t had anything planned for Wednesday and had considered going back there on the way home. It’s one of those places where you need over a day to explore.

Our plan was that I’d carry on looking around to my heart’s content, and then ring Pen when I’d finished. The problem was that when I got to that point my phone’s battery was that low I couldn’t even see the screen to send a text.

One of our suggestions when discussing this was that I meet them where we’d left the car before we went wandering around Ludow at 5.30. So I headed over there, with a detour to buy some chocolates and a tour around the exterior of the castle, since at that stage I didn’t think we’d be back to see it.

And then I waited.

I’m glad we weren’t up the tower when the clock stuck 5.00pm. Never mind “Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons” episode “Big Ben Strikes Thirteen”, this clock seemed to strike 113. I don’t know how many times it bonged, but it was a lot.

We’ve been lucky with the weather up till now. Saltaire has been the only time that I’ve had anything approaching rain and it’s been warm. But it’s definitely beginning to get colder. I spent yesterday wearing my merino top over my blouse and my warm jacket – and Shirley C’s hat. I wore that on the walk this morning (and glad I did) and I still had it with me.

I took to checking out the cars that were heading my way, to see if any of them was Pen’s.

Question one): Is it the right size and shape?
Question two): Does it have a passenger?
Question three): Is that passenger a dog?
Question four): Is the licence number something that could be read as “dog 60 yards”.

It was after, but not too much after, 5.30pm (according to the St Laurence bells) when they arrived.

As I hadn’t had the chance to see that castle, Pen called into the Moreton Corbet Castle on the way home. By now it was dusk and the mediaeval and Elizabethan ruins were quite atmospheric in the dark. It was so dark that we had bats flying around us.

It was even darker than this. (I’ve got quite a good low light camera.)

After a stop off at the supermarket to buy a lasagne, we came home and watched “Thunderbirds Are Go! No Strings Attached,” a documentary about the new series, and then watched a couple of episodes.

We went to Bletchley Park today.

“Where and what is that?

11 October 2015

After a good night, and breakfast, Elizabeth, Pen and I headed off to the local railway station. When Elizabeth had checked on line at 7.30 this morning, the rail service had assured her that the train to Bletchley was leaving from her station. By the time we got there (dragging Pen’s/my case and all our other bags with us) the station signage was saying that that train had been cancelled.

Not a problem, we can walk to the local bus stop, catch the bus to Coventry station, and then go on to Bletchley from there.

So that’s what we did.

I wonder what the other people on the train made of three adult women discussion Thunderbirds and Thunderbirds Are Go!?

I’m typing this on the train from Birmingham New Street Station to Shrewsbury and we’re heading due north. I know that because there’s a glorious sunset (almost as good as Thames’) on my left…

You do notice the church and cathedral spires on the skyline in England… I can see two against a backdrop of red and blue sky.

From Bletchley Station it’s only a short walk to Bletchley Park.

Have you heard of Bletchley Park? You probably wouldn’t have until the 1970s, but if it weren’t for them, you wouldn’t be reading this blog.

Bletchley Park was where Alan Turing (“The Imitation Game” movie) was one of many geniuses who worked on decoding the Enigma coded messages that the Germans were using for despatches during WWII. It wasn’t only the Germans’ whose messages the Allies were intercepting. The Japanese and other “foes” had their own methods for sending coded messages, all of which had to be decoded for the war effort. There are those who state that if it weren’t for work of these people (8000 at its peak and with 75% women on site), then the war would have gone on for two years longer with thousands more casualties.

)(#&*$)#(*$& Photos aren’t working again. I’ll upload text and try again later.

You wouldn’t think this place ended WWII early and marked the beginning of the computer revolution, would you?

We did the visit the wrong way around, but didn’t really have much of an option, because by the time Pen discovered that free guided tours were available the only spaces left (three – which worked well), was for the 2.30pm tour… dragging my/Pen’s case between us as there weren’t any lockers or places where you could leave your gear.

Because that tour was so late, we wondered around and tried to take in everything that was shown to us… Without much success. It was interesting, and well set out. (The buildings were refurbished in much the same way that it would have been when it was in operation – At least as close as they could get without many photos to work from… It was top secret remember.)

And now it’s splashed all over the movies. These are some costumes and props from “The Imitation Game”… Which I haven’t seen.

Bombe back

da Bombe front

Why 25? Because the Enigma machines couldn’t use the same letter as in the original message.

What made it easier to crack was that reports or dispatchers tended to use the same phrases – like “weather report” if they were a ship keeping an eye on the weather, or “Heil Hitler”

More movie sets

But without the guide pointing it out, there was a lot that we missed. Like I hadn’t realised that the low brick walls that surrounded all of the wooden buildings, were there as bomb shields.

Only one building that was shown to us was made of blast proof brick. That was the building that had held the “Bombe”. This was the machine that was… we’re not allowed to use the word “programmed”… assembled to decode the German’s messages.

Alan Turing’s office

Genuine museum displays

Staff used to use their mug and then throw it into the lake. Alan Turing chained his to the radiator to stop that happening.

To enter the main part of the complex to visit the museum was quite clever. The entrance way was set up as if you were stepping off the train (through the train doors) and into Bletchley – then you could learn a bit of background about WWII. We didn’t stay here for long.

We started out listening to a man explain how the “Bombe” worked. When you consider that the Enigma machine had three rotors (four in some naval models), a reflector, and some other way of encrypting messages – giving 159 million, million, million, give or take, options – creating something capable of reversing that encryption was a tall order – and exactly what they managed to do… Don’t ask me how. It was all very interesting and I didn’t understand much of it.

And if you’re wondering why I was interested in Bletchley Park, it’s because it was the birthplace of modern computing. It was the home of the “Colossus” computer. The site is considered so important that companies like “Apple”, and “Google” sponsor it. (And the rumour that Apple’s logo of the apple with the bite taken out of it is based on Alan Turing’s method of suicide is urban myth… Much to Apple’s disappointment.)

Sadly the complex that holds the replica of the Colossus and has an extended history of computing is held behind “closed” gates by a separate entity. You can visit the museum, but you need to pay another entry fee and have the time to do it.

And the reason why closed was in speech marks in the previous paragraph is because when Pete, our guide, was standing in front of the electronic gates between the two sites (they were originally both Bletchley Park) he commented that the last couple of times he’d done so they’d opened of their own accord. He said this just as the gates opened of their own accord. And continued to creep open whenever he wasn’t looking. Some of his listeners asked if it was possible to walk through so they could see Colossus (which I would have loved to have done), but Pete said that the two organisations were run by two separate entities, both relied on entry money, and he worked at both so he didn’t want to get into trouble.

We didn’t have enough time to hang around anyway.

The manor house had been the original location for the codebreakers, but as time went on and they realised that they could do more and more with more man power. (After Dunkirk, Winston Churchill practically said to give them what they wanted.) With more manpower came the requirements for more buildings.

The present café to the left of the original building, was originally “Hut 4”, where they eventually concentrated on naval messages. (And I hope they did a better job than they do with the café. All the food – sandwich type and soups and roast meals, were jammed up at one end of the room and there wasn’t room for everyone to get what they wanted. That coupled with only one till being operational (they did fire up #2 when we were waiting), made for a stressful start to lunch.

Hut 4 in the centre of picture, to the left of the original house.

Hut 6 was for codebreaking Enigma and Hut 3 for translating it. When those buildings got too small they moved into big ones called… Hut 6 and Hut 3.

That way you could take something to a Hut without knowing what was going on in it. Secrecy was everything.

The old buildings were renamed. The old Hut 6 became Hut 16 and Hut 3 became…

Hut 23.

It seems that even hyper-intelligent mathematicians can be superstitious.

One thing that I liked about Pete’s talk, was that he admitted that without the work of some Poles, Bletchley, and indeed the early days of the war, wouldn’t have done as well as they did. The Poles had already started cracking Enigma before Bletchley was formed and their ideas formed the basis of Bletchley’s work. (Also the Polish pilots were better and more efficient flyers than the “English”.)

It’s because of the Polish influence that the initial code breaking machine was called “Bombe”. The Poles called their version “Bomba”.

And they both helped to stop bombs.

Memorial to the Poles who did the groundwork that went towards cracking the Enigma code.

We didn’t want Pete’s spiel to end, but were glad when it did because we were running close to the time when we were going to have to leave. Both Elizabeth and I wanted to get cloth badges. (I’m sticking mine onto my “Keep calm and call International Rescue” bag – but cloth badges seem to be out of fashion at the moment. Also I have had to ask for someone to be a translator. When I asked at Goathland for a cloth badge, Rosemary told me that they’re called patches in England. It didn’t matter much. Whatever I called them my accent seemed to get in the way… But I don’t have an accent! Everyone else does!!)

Bletchley didn’t have any cloth badges.

We took the train back to Birmingham New Station, Elizabeth leaving us at Coventry. Once at Birmingham New Station we bought a pasty each and then caught the train to Shrewsbury. After a wait at Shrewsbury it was another train to Wem.

And then back to Pen’s to watch a documentary about Gordon Welchman – a man who was equally as brilliant as Alan Turing, but whose work at Bletchley has been even more forgotten.

We also watched ITVs top nine (that’s where we came in) theme tunes. Let’s see if I can remember.

9) Agatha Christie’s Poirot
8) Morse
7) The Avengers
6) Van der Valk
5) Ermmm Downton Abbey?
4) Ummm – something else. I’ve probably got these all up the shoot. I’m only sure of the first and last two
3) Roald Dahl’s Tales of the Unexpected.
2) Thunderbirds!
1) Yakety Sax – the Benny Hill closing credits theme. ?????

After that I went to bed to type up the blog and Skype chat with D.C.

Aren’t computers wonderful?

When they work.

All photos posted… I think

And I’ve just ejected into Pen’s conservatory a spider that was about five centimetres long, brown and very fast. It looked like a huntsman-type creepy crawly. Just as well I’m not the screaming and running-type – even if I didn’t fancy it walking over me in the middle of the night.

Pen, Scott, and Kally at Bletchley

Elizabeth and Pen (and Scott)

Cheesy grin at Bletchley

Elizabeth in her natural habitat. Reading a book. The case is Pen’s/mine and we all had to take turns dragging it around Bletchley.

Through this gate was the main admin area.