Big event disquiet

Another day of sunshine and cloud after a pleasantly cool night's sleep, with the temperature rising to 20C mid morning. Clare went for a chiropractic treatment after breakfast and I chatted to Kath as she drove to work, as she often does on a Thursday. Then I worked on next Wednesday's biblical reflection while Clare cooked lunch. I continued a sermon for Sunday after lunch until I ran out of ideas, and went for a walk.

At half past five I drove Clare to the Cardiff Bay Nuffield Hospital for her hip replacement appointment, slightly uncertain about the last part of the route from Grangetown. Although it's properly marked on Google maps, I recall there was a junction where the road markings weren't clear enough. I went left instead of straight on and reached the destination from a different direction on a circular route. The hospital is situated in an area with other unmemorable large public buildings, overlooked by the A4232 bypass, and the signage isn't that good. Enough to make me nervous about getting lost again. It's a couple of years since we last came here for a second opinion from an eye surgeon. Anyway, this time, I came off the correct roundabout and saw that I needed to cross over into a single right hand lane that would take me where I needed to go, and we arrived with plenty of time to spare. 

While Clare was being seen, I wandered around the neighbourhood to familiarise myself with it. One huge building nearby is Willcox House, now a huge 'wellness centre' offering all sorts of therapies and training facilities. It was first used as the headquarters of NTLWorld internet service providers, then by Cardiff Council for social services admin offices. That was when I visited it for a meeting to plan a training course for volunteers feeding homeless people on the city centre streets sixteen years ago. Clare emerged from the hospital an hour later, reassured by her meeting with the hip surgeon who will do the operation after we return from the Douro cruise. He's also referred her back to UHW about the other hip in which he observed deterioration, proposing that she is put on the NHS waiting list to have it done. 

As we were driving back into Grangetown, she realised she'd forgotten to pay for the consultation, and left the treatment information booklet behind, so we had to return pronto and complete the process. Having revisit the awkward junction a second time so soon at least meant that I could memorise the turning. 

There was another concert in Blackweir Fields this evening, and in the news the City Council is being criticised and challenged for allowing concerts which deny use of a large area of Bute Park to the public. It's being pointed out that it was gifted to the citizens of Cardiff, not to the Council which manages it. The city's economy may benefit from these big events but it's hundreds of thousands of people whose daily lives and well being are disrupted by road closures and the comings and goings of tens of thousands of concert goers. There's no respite either, as road closures will continue over the weekend with concerts at the Principality stadium. Closures for international matches don't normally happen so close together, so it's no wonder there's public annoyance.

We had supper late, then I spent the rest of the evening reading my Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel. Time seems to pass quicker when I read in Spanish checking unfamiliar words, than when I'm watching a movie, perhaps because words stimulate the imagination and help portray a scene described. Watching something gives you pictures to work with devised by the auteur not yourself and if your mind works quickly to make sense of what you're seeing. Unless the pace of the story is rapid, it can seem long drawn out. 

Grand Slam weekend fiesta

Clare went for a swim and gym session yesterday morning and we met for lunch afterwards in John Lewis' restaurant, before I walked back to Riverside Clinic for my daily dressing appointment, at a  later time than usual. Already the influx of green shirted rugby fans was noticeable, standing outside pubs, drinking and chatting in the damp afternoon air, enjoying the weekend around tomorrow's six nations final match. A quarter of a million people are expected to descend on Cardiff to watch inside the Principality Stadium, or outside.

This morning I walked to Lidl's in Leckwith to get some bargain packs of cashew nuts, which mixed with olive oil and a dash of salt can be blended into a deliciously tasty butter substitute. Walking there and back along 150 metres of footpath alongside the park next to the store, I collected around fifty discarded cans, bottles and paper cups, disfiguring the greensward. The sight of this offends me, and still the best way to cope with the resentment this arouses in me is to do some 'wombling' as the family call it. 

Returning up Llandaff Road, I saw small groups of mainly men dressed in red shirts walking towards town, chatting about the prospects for the day. They walk in, rather than driving and attempting to park close in to the centre. Bus services become rather erratic on days of high congestion like this one, and stop altogether two hours before the match, so those with stadium tickets won't risk being held up - and they need time for a few beers as well.

The earlier wind brought first drizzle, then a steady downpour of rain, so going out and walking into town to savour the atmosphere lost all its appeal.  I watched the second half of the match on TV and was astonished at how superbly the Welsh team played to claim its fourteenth victory in a row, not to mention its fourth Grand Slam victory in the new millennium. Cardiff will be a happy rowdy place tonight. I dread to think about the amount of litter that will be generated. For the most part it will have been cleared away by lunchtime tomorrow. If only the same effort and focus were applied to tidying all the city's parks and public spaces! 

Because I walk the same streets almost daily, on my way to the clinic or the shops, I am aware that dropped or parked bottles, cans, cups and cartons lie in the same place for days, even weeks at a time. I don't think that the thinly distributed array of local litter bins get emptied more than once a week either. By the time the weekend arrives, park bins may already on their way to being full, and by Sunday night are overflowing. Our filthy streets are a testimony to consumer carelessness and to cutbacks in municipal spending.

The evening, the last couple of episodes of Icelandic crimmie 'Trapped' were shown on BBC Four. An impressive and touching drama, full of interesting characters with tragic family secrets, topical social issues, and a backdrop of amazing scenery. People I know have spoken highly of the holiday visits to Iceland. I don't think I could enjoy the clouds and rain however. Cross country skiing in midwinter would be great, but for the short days and long nights, so it won't feature on my tourism wish list any time soon. At the moment all I can hope for is to be fit enough and able to travel again.

A world tour starting in Cardiff

I celebrated the Eucharist at St Catherine's this morning. I drafted a sermon for Sunday, and then in the afternoon went into town to look for a new camera bag. I found just what I needed in the shop where I habitually go to buy cameras and accessories kit, Cardiff Camera Centre, a family firm with two shops and an internet store as well.

Road closures were already under way when I arrived, as there was a concert in the stadium, the start of Rhianna and Jayzee's world tour. An armed response police team was located prominently at the entrance, for public reassurance after last year's Manchester stadium bombing.

The streets were unusually busy for a Wednesday, and lots of people were relaxing out doors, chatting drinking, either at tables or standing in the street. The only jarring note was the sound of breaking glass, as a few people accidentally dropped or toppled a drink. For some strange reason, the public safety injunction applying on match days, that drinks be served only in disposable plastic wasn't in force, and it meant that broken glass was being trodden under foot. Not very desirable in the sandal wearing season. 

Whenever there's a large crowd in town, discarded rubbish accumulates, especially after normal Council working hours, so the quality of the environment soon deteriorates. I makes me wish our city was more like Malaga where street sweepers are numerous and work in shifts from early morning until late at night, and take a pride in keeping the streets clean. The sight of broken glass is rare. How anybody with safety oversight as part of their job, whether Council, Licensee or Police didn't expect a seventy thousand pre-concert drinking crowd in summer to be outdoors is a mystery to me. 

More episodes of NCIS watched on catch-up this evening. Interesting to see how a change of actors to reflect greater inclusivity is reflected in squad room personnel. A Latino, a black Brit, an Afghan and added prominence to female leads among them.