St Edmundsbury Cathedral discovered

After checking out of our hotel mid morning, we drove down the A14 towards Felixstowe, where we are booked for the weekend. On our way we made our first ever visit to Bury St Edmunds, and found, at the end of an approach to the city, marked by traffic congestion, a prosperous old town centre with easy parking, all the modern retail facilities, and a great variety of charming historic buildings to see, on our way to the Cathedral of St Edmund, King and Martyr.

The  building is in origin a fine East Anglian mediaeval abbey, and an equally fine mediaeval Parish church in the grounds next to it. The abbey precinct is large, and scattered with remnants of former buildings. Including its magnificent Norman gatehouse on to the street, adjacent to the Cathedral.

Buildings nearest to the abbey have at some time in subsequent history since the dissolution og the monasteries, been turned into residences or serving the Cathedral. The churchyard and gardens on the site of former abbey buildings are beautifully maintained and attractive. Before the reformation this place would have been a key place of pilgrimage for the region, and had extensive property and land. Whatever the town acquired in this process has been well looked after, to everyone's benefit.

What surprised us about the Cathedral building was learning that the lantern tower above the central crossing, similar to that at Ely Cathedral, was only completed a few years ago, according to a design envisaged by the architect who re-built the nave almost a century ago, and left substantial funds to support its completion.

It's a great accomplishment, perfectly in harmony, like the modern cloister, with the mediaeval character of the building, and a marvellous showcase of traditional craftsmanship which still flourishes in this region, with church support. Here's a link to the photos of our visit.

We had lunch outdoors at the Cathedral's visitor centre restaurant before resuming our journey, and arrived at our seafront B&B in Felixstowe, the Dornicourt Guest House, at tea-time. After settling in, we walked the length of the promenade as far as the Fludyer's Arms where we stayed on two previous visits. Since then, it's been modernised and gone up-market as a stylish Real Ale pub and music venue the key feature of its accommodation offer. We enjoyed supper at the versatile Fish Dish restaurant on the sea front near the pier, offering quiet a varied menu in addition to serving traditional English fish and chips. Another eating house on our visit with Turkish management, offering good service and an interestingly diverse menu.

  

Re-unions

After an ample hotel breakfast, we spent the morning seeing Cambridge on foot, visiting colleges, as tourists do, and then took an hour's guided tour of riverside colleges in a punt piloted by an eloquent young man, who happened to be a home grown local lad, recently graduated from Aston University, whose summer job this was. An entertaining experience, and for him, his last day of work before setting out for a year's EFL teaching in China.

After lunch in a cafe restaurant opposite King's College under Turkish management, I headed out of  the town centre to visit my architect cousin Ivor, now living in sheltered accomodation in an inner suburb. It's several years since we last met up. Since then he's been plagued with illness. Now he's getting used to a new way of life, and after a hands-on career as an architect and teaching architecture, he's becoming an historian of modern architecture, drawing on his unique perspective of a lifetime of working experience, some of it spent with his mentor, the renowned Leslie Martin.

He has scholarship funding, and tells me that one of its benefits is the right to have his remains interred in a Cambridge college with which he's associated. I imagine having his work published and available on University library shelves is much more important to him, with such a story to tell. Like art and literature, the buildings of our era are an essay describing in their different ways the values and attitudes to life that matter most. Buildings that much easier to understand when accounted for by those who belong to their circle of authorship.

In the evening Clare and I met with Craig and Mel McKay, whom we haven't seen for over thirty years. Mel was Clare's bridesmaid at our wedding, and married Craig, a Cambridge astronomer five years later. They've lived in the city ever since, she working as a counsellor for thirty years and then in retirement as an historic garden guide, and he at the cutting edge of technological development for space probe instrumentation, still full of the excitement and enthusiasm for the developments of the age we live in. He got to work on building legendary Hubble space telescope quite early in his career, and is working on the Roque de los Muchachos telescope array in the Canary islands. Retirement, what is it? Working on the things you love, but on on a pension.

Here's a link to the photos taken during our stay

East Anglia journey

This morning we drove to Cambridge to stop a couple of nights on our way for a weekend with Eddy and Ann, celebrating their joint 145th birthday. We took the most direct route via Oxford, four hours on a good day, five hours for us, due to long traffic queues approaching north south junctions with west-east routes.

We checked into the Arundel House Hotel on Chesterton Road and were given a first floor bay window room overlooking the river Cam across the road and Jesus Green beyond. A little noisy, but a great view. After unpacking, we walked the streets for an hour, then returned for an evening meal in the restaurant downstairs, before turning in for a good night's sleep.

   
 

Faithfulness celebrated

I drove to St Saviour's in Splott this morning to celebrate the Eucharist, and on this occasion it was a Requiem Mass for Margaret, a member of the regular worshipping congregation for many years who had died. St Saviour's on Tuesdays is always a-buzz with activity, as it's the morning for food bank distributions, combined with a social time, as well as the weekday Mass. A heart warming experience at the best of times. but even more so on this inevitably sad occasion, when over thirty people came to commend Margaret to God and give thanks for her life with the local community. 

Former Vicar, retired like me, Fr Alan Rabjohns, drove up from Swansea with his wife to take part and he administered the chalice at Communion. Although only an occasional visitor, I could picture Margaret, the way I remembered her, as a cheery faithful member of the church choir. I recall hearing she'd taken a decision not to fight back with chemotherapy, once the seriousness of her diagnosis was revealed, content to have lived her span, ready to return to her Maker. It's good to celebrate that kind of trusting faith, and not to let it be undervalued in this scientific miracle hungry modern world.
 

Web housekeeping

Sunday morning was taken up with a celebration of the Eucharist at St John's Canton followed by another at St Luke's. The rest of the day was spent doing nothing much ... well, resting I suppose you'd call it. We discussed going out to join the Ecumenical street Procession of Our Lady of Walsingham at St Mary's Bute Street, but not long before it was time to leave, I nodded off and woke up too late to be punctual.

I did however finally get around to ordering an upgrade of Talktalk's Broadband on-line, after the Talktalk Care twitter helpline account manager sent me the appropriate web-link. It was altogether a lot simpler than I'd envisaged. With so many on-line devices in the house, on and off at different times, the basic service is barely adequate, so it's worth the extra to avoid impatience. Service always seems to go flaky when you most need it. I was impressed to get a text message confirming the order and giving a service start date this morning.

Much of today was spent working with my collection of photographs from my last sojourn in Spain. Some albums hadn't made it from laptop to backup drive, and now I have lots of OneDrive webspace, I uploaded over a thousand pictures, first re-sizing them in a Linux batch processing app called Phatch, which does a great quick job with no fuss. As all my photos are now taken full size, to be used sometimes for cropping out wasted space or magnifying one section, I decided to upload only half sized versions. 

OneDrive doesn't seem to offer an automatic 'best for web sharing' upload option like Google's Picasa, so the job has to be done beforehand. 'Best for web sharing' is sensible, not just from a space saving point of view, but if you're viewing them, a larger picture takes longer to display and resolve properly on screen, particularly with slower connections. It's a labour of love, and it is quite possible to do other things while uploading happens in the background. Today there was a job application pack and advertisement to prepare for recruiting a new BCRP Business Crime Reduction Manager. I'd meant to go into the office but ended up staying home all day, even though it was bright and sunny. Must get out more.

 

Home to a music feast

Up before six, driving for half an hour to Birmingham airport in the rain to take Rachel to her six forty five check-in. So sad to say goodbye to her, even though she's only ever a Skype or Viber call away. She loves rain, and is returning to 40C+ in Phoenix, with infrequent downpours even in the 'monsoon' season, as she calls it. After breakfast, we went to bed again for an hour, before tidying up and leaving for home. It only rained for the first hour. By the time we stopped for a coffee at Strensham services, driving conditions were much improved.

After lunch I went into the office for an hour, which ended up being two hours as Ashley's new Acer all in one desktop stuck and then crashed in the middle of some indefinable process and then hung with a black screen after reboot. I tried all the various repair options in turn without success, and finally resorted to a factory re-set, still running when I set out for home much later than I wanted to. I listened to the Archers on my Blackberry as I was walking to the bus stop, and was late for supper. Cursed machines!

We watched the evening's BBC Promenade Concert from the Albert Hall, modern American orchestral music with choir singing as an instrument, the way the composer and conductor Eric Whitacre put it. One piece paid homage to the revelatory stellar discoveries of the Hubble telescope. In its final movement Whitacre invited promenaders to access a smartphone app (with call handling switched off) to look at pictures taken by Hubble of an area of sky dark to us but emanating light from myriads of galaxies 13 billion light years away, almost as old as the universe itself. If I understood aright, the sound  of Hubble's signal was broadcast from the phone app, and its low level background noise from hundreds of devices written into the musical score. Ingenious, with a genuine touch of awesomeness in its beauty.

Then, BBC Four offered the 1955 movie of Guys and Dolls, digitally re-mastered in brightest technicolour Cinemascope, chock full of memorable songs and witty wisecracking dialogue, fabulous stageing and dance routines. It was late, but irresistible to watch. Though tired, I didn't fall asleep, and staggered to bed very very late, happy to have re-visited my distant youth, with Miles Davis' from the album 'Birth of the Cool' version of 'If I was a bell' ringing in my head, rather than that of inebriated Jean Simmons in the movie. Lovely times.

Kenilworth and faster broadband

We left Plas Baladeulyn mid morning and drove along the A5 to Llangollen to stop for lunch. Parking a difficult, but serendipdy prevail. We found a space just across the street from two tea rooms, side by side. We settled for the Vintage Road Tea Room, where we enjoyed, not only a good meal but also the charming experience of sitting out in their small back yard to eat. All the crockery used is china in traditional patterns, and there's lots on display as well, indoors.

Inevitably the M6 was congested with traffic and slow moving, but apart from that the journey, in good weather, was uneventful, and we arrived in Kenilworth by five. Kath, Anto and Rhiannon weren't there. They'd sent us messages and a few photos from their ferry crossing from Portsmouth to Bilbao on Tuesday, plus a picture of their hotel in Olite, the wine capital of Navarra province in Spain. We made supper, and got ourselves an early night, conscious of the need to get Rachel to Birmingham airport by six forty-five for her return flight to Arizona.

How nice to be able to take advantage of Anto's fast BT business broadband! Instead of two hours at home to download the office file system to this machine, it took twenty minutes. It certainly won't be long now until I put my order in to get faster broadband. All the users on this machine are now completely updated. Hopefully there'll be fewer virtual lockouts due to file system updating issues in future. What's bad is how little control you have over the process.

You can, however, create a user area to work in that doesn't have a OneDrive address to sync to. The system takes slightly longer to boot up, as if it can't believe that syncing isn't required. But then you can access internet without hindrance, and if needs be get files from any OneDrive account by means of a browser, just the way it always was. 

As time goes on, it'll be interesting to see if the amount of comment on tech forums about the Microsoft's use of syncing to 'data-slurp your machine and potentially compromise data privacy increases because users don't have control over what's being sent. Let's hope that complaints will rise into a roar of discontent, and more people switch to run versions of Linux on terms of their own choice instead.

 

Ascending Yr Wyddfa

Finally we had a good view of Snowdon over breakfast this morning, then we took another drive to Beddgelert, this time to go over the Aberglasyln Pass down to Llanberis, thronged with visitors as ever. It's my father's birthday today, and I though how much he would have loved this adventure. We met other Trigonos guests going up by train, as we set out for the climb wondering how far we'd get this time. It's two years since rain and cloud called off our last attempt at the half way mark. Today's weather was just perfect. 

We made it to the half-way cafe and had our picnic lunch. Clare wanted to quit while she was ahead. I had enough left to accompany Rachel another kilometre up to the steepest section, before returning to join Clare on the descent. Rachel went on to the summit with enthusiasm, and amazed us by jogging back down in an hour and ten minutes to rendezvous with us at half past four.

We waited for her at Pen y Ceunant Isaf Tea Rooms, just at the end of the very steep first section of tarmac road out of the village of Llandberis - you're advised to allow three hours! The tea room is one of the most friendly places I know in Wales. Stefan, who owns and runs it, loves the mountain and its hosts of visitors, and knows how to make every one feel really welcome. Rachel met another couple of Trigonos guests walking, as she descended. There was plenty to talk about over supper.

It was an enjoyable outing, and I'm glad I quit while I was ahead, before ankle joint pains became intolerable. By bed time, my legs felt decidedly wobbly, and I thought I was walking like a really old man. Must get out and exercise more while I still can, even if it does take longer to recover these days! 

I was definitely too tired to stay up and watch for meteorites on the second night of the Persied passage. In any case, the valley sides obscured the south western sky, high up sightings would be that much rarer. One group of half a dozen went on a night hike to a high place. I hope they were suitably rewarded for their effort.

Clare's name day in Beddgelert

After breakfast, we drove up the valley to Rhydd Du, overtaking the train we got down to Beddgelert Railway station for a photo opportunity before going into the town, then out to see Gelert's Grave and walk down the river trail to eat our picnic lunch on the bank above the waters. The weather was cloudy but we were spared rain, so it was quite pleasant and relaxing to sit and listen to the river.

The Parish Church of St Mary was open, welcoming visitors to a flower festival with a curiously interesting mix of traditional and contemporary subject themes. It's impressive that the congregation can achieve this in the busiest visitor month of the year, to this ever popular tourist venue.

We drove on up the Aberglasyn Pass road, as far as the junction for Llanberis and Capel Curig, stopping half way to savour the view and take photos. This is one of my favourite Snowdonia views. On the way back down we stopped at the visitor centre of  Beddgelert's Sygun copper mine, which has a cafe and a small museum.

We weren't interested in going under ground for a tour of old workings, but the small eclectic collection of artifacts, geological and historical, all relating to the diversity and value of minerals found in this region was well worth spending time on. Man made objects on display spanned more than two millennia. All was well labelled and described but presentation and sequencing of exhibits was somewhat quirky. Possibly it's the work of a keen amateur collector. Certainly all the more interesting for not being displayed in any conscious didactic order. Every exhibit could just be enjoyed for what it is.

Another quiet evening of table talk with fellow guests at supper, and an hour of pleasure watching clouds move and change colour, slowly revealing Snowdon's summit, as the light faded and the sky cleared marvellously to make possible a viewing of the early stages of Perseid meteor shower passing by earth, for those with the energy to pass the night in the garden with bats and midges.

   

Ascent to Y Fron Eryri

The early morning rain cleared up and a breeze blew away low cloud locally, and this encouraged us to set out on the hill walk that starts on a footpath just opposite Trigonos main entrance. We climbed through sheep pastureland for three quarters of an hour, around the edge of the easternmost slate spoil tip, and then above on to moorland as far as the quiet little hamlet of Y Fron Eryri. We met the local postman on his rounds and he offered to take a group photo of us at one of the many stiles typical of the region, made of slate, with iron gates. 

From up there at 250m the views of this industrial legacy, with Nantlle Lake beyond in the valley floor, and the crests on the other side, rising to more than 300m, are simply amazing for their stark and colourful contrasts. I couldn't help imagining the quarrymen from Y Fron and other neighbouring hamlets walking up and down these tracks to their workplace - walking to such drugery and dange - sustained by the beauty of the landscape rising above its own ravaging, and the faith that kept praise and dignity alive in their hearts.

We started our descent on tracks leading us past the only working slate quarry left and through abandoned quarry sites that closed fifty years ago, now slowly, patiently, being reclaimed by wild nature. While we were eating our picnic lunch on the mountainside, two buzzards circled over us on the breeze, calling to each other with a cry reminiscent of a cat. The sun shone, but Snowdon in the distance was still wreathed in cloud.

A memorable walk, but one that called for a siesta and a quiet evening to follow, savouring the marvellous vegetarian cuisine for which Trigonos is famous, with most of the food being grown on the estate, or locally. Visitors come from far and wide, travelling many miles, to enjoy eating meals with very low food miles in comparison to an average restaurant.

Since we last came here, wi-fi internet access has been extended to the main house from the conference centre. It was, with patience, possible to log on, but there was no internet last night, and today laptop network access was virtually impossible, whereas phones and tablets, albeit slowly, could get on line and stay on line. With a couple of dozen devices seeking an IP address at any time, it's not surprising, a bit like an airport lounge. The phone signal also dipped in an out, so it was impossible to do much more than send texts. To sustain a conversation meant going outdoors and standing in a particular the car park - or else walk thirty yards up the track towards Y Fron Eryri, where it's more consistent. 

I didn't have much need to get on line with a laptop, except to retrieve a file to edit offline. The CBS business user account on the newly upgraded Windows 10 laptop was not fully synced. Since Microsoft operations seem to hate being interrupted they hog internet access until they have done what they want to do, and the house connection was too congested to allow access, it just refused to connect - make any different use impossible - that's what I discovered.

I did however succeed in using the BlackBerry as a wi-fi hotspot for just long enough to grab the file from OneDrive accessed through Firefox, but the signal soon dropped. A bit like using an old fashioned modem, but at least I could finish a final revision done on the job description we've been discussing all week.

 

Snowdonia with Rachel

Owain came over yesterday to spend a 'brother and sister' day together with Rachel, the first opportunity they've had this time around, so Rachel drove them to Ogmore for a walk along the shore, a favourite pastime from years back, and then they went out for supper. This left us with a quiet day to prepare our trip with Rachel to Snowdonia.

My first duty this morning was at eight o'clock at St Catherine's. Clare came too, so that she could be free to have breakfast with Owain and Rachel, when they arose from their night on the town. As I was about to begin I was asked if I could fit in an extra service at St John's before returning to St Catherines for the ten thirty, as the other locum priest was unwell. It's the first time for a long while that I've taken three services in a morning. I wondered how I'd stand up to it, as I do seem more prone to the after effects of cumulative stress these days, but it was fine, nothing to worry about, and by half past twelve, we were heading out of Cardiff up the A470 to Snowdonia for four days at Trigonos, our favourite place to stay in Dyffryn Nantlle.

We started out in rain, and our first task was to get a windscreen wiper blade replaced. The roads were surprisingly quiet, and it didn't rain all the way. We enjoyed a picnic lunch beside a reservoir in the Brecon Beacons, with a flock of pied wagtails busy around the bushes nearby. We arrived at tea time to a warm welcome and some good company and conversation over meals, as is usually the case in Plas Baladeulyn. 

Once again our room looks out over the lake. The last of the hay bundles was being removed from the lakeside meadow, so we missed its exquisite carpet of wildflowers by a few days. But the little blue dragonflies were still around in the garden, and a buzzard family in lakeside trees. Lots of low cloud obscured the peaks and crests above the valley, and Snowdon, making for an ever changing atmosphere of mystery and colour as the sun set. There is clear weather to come while we're here, nevertheless. Rachel is delighted to be here. It's her first visit.

 

 

Windows 10 comes home

A sunny Friday morning started with a computer notification that the Windows 10 upgrade was ready for installation – eight days after the new operating system was launched. So, around eleven, I clicked go, then went off to my GP appointment. Thankfully the blood pressure was what it should be again. What it was like at the end of this day, I didn't bother to check, but I imagine it'd be high in the light of what I now report.

The upgrade took about an hour on a machine only a little slower than my office PC, but took another quarter of an hour to configure to my requirements. Again, all installed programs run nicely, the Edge browser is still a fiddle to set up for my default choices, but this time expected.
 

I started writing my Sunday sermon on another Windows 8.1 machine, my little underpowered travel portable, and it soon gave me an installation notification, but when I clicked on it, downloading the upgrade hadn't finished. An hour later, it changed its mind and let me start. Again this took about an hour and a quarter to get to a state usability, except for one thing.

Internet access speeds on standard consumer 2mb/sec broadband connection plummeted to the point where it took a minute or two to access any new page. Other wi-fi devices in the house were also crippled, and even the phone signal booster struggled to deliver the consistent in-house signal we've got used to relying on. The reason? One Drive was busy syncing 8GB worth of files with both Windows 10 computers entirely from scratch. In fact, when the second sync started, the first stopped in its tracks, and could only be re-started once the other finished. 

The sync process notification said that files were downloading from OneDrive. I was mystified by this, as previously in Windows 8.1, a personal filesystem was uploaded to the internet and disappeared the machine. If you wanted to save work in progress to tackle when off-line, you had to hide it where OneDrive wouldn't whisk it away. This time, when the syncing stopped, after four or five hours, I discovered that all my files had been returned to the hard drive and now could be accessed off-line. Or so it says!

While this initial syncing process was going on, it seemed to consume most of the available bandwidth, to the point that other network attached devices were, for most purposes, apart from receiving notifications, un-useable. Like a denial of service attack, but in effect a provision of service sucking up all the capacity of the system.

It was so bad that when, later in the afternoon, during the sync-fest, I sought to retrieve my half prepared sermon from OneDrive, it wouldn't deliver, as pages were loading so slow they timed out. Finally, after more long waits, my trusty Linux Mint six year old Dell machine managed to slip through the traffic stream and deliver me vital file. Then I was able to complete the sermon off-line and print. It then took several attempts to upload the edited file to OneDrive. 

This may be a one off experience to do with upgrading. It won't much affect people with fast broadband, but anyone with ordinary broadband speed is going to be confounded by the experience, wishing they'd never bothered to upgrade.  In essence the upgrade is a seamless experience, apart from this issue, which is a stumbling block for those unwarned.

What I have been reminded of by this waste of a day is not to rely totally on any Cloud based service or application. Great for back-up, or file sharing, sure, but today's experience reduced fancy new Windows 10 to an offering no better or worse than a Chromebook, and brought the household to a halt.

Admittedly we're running a lot of connected devices on our domestic broadband service. Four wired devices and six to eight wi-fi devices are attached at any time, but most are just idling. Any massive file download is going to disrupt. So, it's time to pay extra for more capacity, and switch to a fibre optic system. Cable has been in the street for over a decade, and the BT cabinet around the corner has boasted of being upgraded for the past two years. 

It may be a long time before we have such a diminished service again, but truth to tell, we're now so dependent on seamless delivery, it's hard to cope with such disruption. Are we right to be so heavily reliant on internet connectedness? Days like this seem to suggest untold disasters if things ever go wrong on the macro scale.
 

Wedding anniversary remembrance

I had two Eucharists to cover for holidaying parish clergy yesterday morning. I celebrated the Transfiguration a day early, for small congregations at St Luke's and Catherines. It's a feast that has meant so much to me for several different reasons, the most important being that Clare and I married on the 6th August. This morning we went together to St John's for the Eucharist, and sat together in the congregation as Fr Jesse Smith was scheduled to celebrate. A rare treat.

Then Clare and Rachel went off for a swim. I pottered around, then went into the office for a while. We didn't do anything else to mark the day, except savour the delight of last Saturday's family celebration, to add to the multitude of memories of forty-nine years together. It's time to start planning a Golden Wedding fiesta for this time next year. I've decided I'm going to make a photo sequence of all the years to display on the day. Thankfully, I made a start on digitising old family albums a decade ago. There's still more to do, to obtain a fuller picture. Many of the best moments, of course, could never be captured, no matter how vivid they remain in memory. 

Today is the 70th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, suitably recalled in the news and at ground zero. With Cold War confrontation hanging over our youthful years, and blighting them with subliminal anxiety, it seemed right that we should marry on this day, because it is also one the feast days of Christ, and the transforming power of his grace. A small gesture, stating that we we were chosing life in the shadow of extermination. 

The numbers of nuclear warheads is now a tenth of what it once was, but more nations possess nuclear armaments, so the risk of catastrophe is as high as ever, compounded by possible use of fissile material for a 'dirty bomb' by terrorists. So many people are still choosing ways that lead to death rather than life. Have we got any further than living with the Bomb, rather than creating conditions in which it serves no further purpose and can be disposed of, as we now frequently do with outdated technologies.

  

Keep on taking the pills

I went to our GP surgery this morning for my six monthly hypertension review test - one of the hazards of old age. My blood pressure was worryingly high, but the cause of this was clear to me at least. I stopped taking the diuretic pill while I was in Spain as I was sweating so much, and waking up dry mouthed at night. It took me a good while to get hydration balance correct. Another trial of old age. When I returned from hotter climes, I didn't restart the diuretic although the adjustment to cooler temperatures means I don't need to drink as much to much to compensate.

I thought I'd wait until this morning's test. I wasn't really surprised, as I noticed I muzzy head in the morning, which cleared but slowly as the day went on, and only if I was physically active. Whatever else the little white pills do, they help prevent the body storing toxins. So, as soon as I got home, I took a pill, and within hours my head cleared. By evening my blood pressure measured almost normal again. However, I have been given an urgent appointment with the GP on Friday - just in case it's something else - fair enough.

After lunch Rachel and I drove up Thatcham in Berkshire to deliver Jasmine to her dad for their flight back to America. Happily, we have Rachel for another ten days. On the return journey we called on Amanda and James in Southmead. It was the first time Rachel and Amanda have been together for three years. Time flies. Thank heavens for Skype and Gmail.

Movie outing

It's lovely to have Rachel and Jasmine here. The aroma of pancakes cooking for a late breakfast treat fills the house in the morning. Then the girls went to the swimming pool, and after an early lunch, I went into town and booked tickets for an early evening showing of the 'Minions' film, at Cineworld.

Today is when the bus station closures hit the working week. I wondered how the traffic was going to be managed, and chatted with the driver on my way into town. There are new drop off bus stops and bus lanes in Westgate Street, and now certain buses destined to return from the opposite side of Westgate Street must go left into Lower St Mary Street, and do their turn around in Callaghan Square and then make their way back, as there's no longer entry into the bus station. It seems to be working well. It needs to, as it'll be a couple of years before the new bus station is ready for use.

 

Then, I went to the office to complete the task of making Ashley's new PC fit for work. It wasn't as easy as I'd hoped to set up the email client to access a BT account, so it's a matter of continuing to use webmail for the time being. Gmail set up with Windows 10 Mail was easy, but I was was amused to receive a security notification from Google, declaring the account had been accessed from Internet Explorer, not from Windows 10 Mail So much for the all-new operating system that does away with I.E.!

At six, the four of us met outside the cinema and ascended to the dizzy heights of the top storey, with its fabulous townscape views, to plunge ourselves into the deafening darkness of the movie studio for 'Minions'. The hi-fi surround sound was too loud for comfort throughout and detracted from the enjoyment. I like to listen and not be bombarded acoustically. I lost count of the movie trailers we saw first, five or six I think. All the advertisements were the same as those we get  pestered with a dozen times a night on TV, in huge HD versions. Boring. They soon cease to be entertaining or informing.

The film's certification said it was fit for children (true) but contained mild comedic (?) violence. Well, like all cartoon movies since the genre was invented I guess, but so much gets tiresome. The film was hilariously funny, a 'prequel' the cartoon movie 'Despicable Me', whose sequel we watched last night. To my mind was better at satirizing American culture than its was at satirizing Britain, the monarchy and the church. It's not something I would have gone out of my way to watch, if it hadn't been an occasion for a family outing. But then the same is true of most things that pass for 'entertainment' today.

A special family celebration

Yesterday afternoon, Owain arrived from Bristol, and came with us to check in at Llantrisant's Premier Inn for an overnight. Kath, Anto, Rhiannon, Rachel and Jasmine all arrived from Kenilworth shortly after us. Eddy and Ann were already installed, having arrived last night from Greece to Gatwick Airport, and driving across counry to avoid motorway congestion, to stay the night and recover from travel, in order to join us.

Clare and I both turn seventy this year, so we chose a date half way between our birthdays, close to our 49th wedding anniversary, for this family gathering. Sadly neither of my two sisters could travel to join us. Age takes its toll. We booked an evening meal at the Llanerch Vineyard restaurant ages ago, keen to go somewhere special and invite everyone to join us. At last it was happening.

The meal was superb, and everyone was pleased with what they chose to eat, even the children. When we arrived there was a large decorated plastic box with a ballon tied to it on the dining table. This had been brought in earlier in the day by the Kenilworth crowd, a hamper of lovely goodies, to which all the children and grandchildren contributed - favourite things - olives, chorizo, chocolate, wine, hand made soap, handmade marzipan sweets, a framed photo of Rhiannon and Jasmine, poems and cards created by the two of them. Such a lovely surprise. After the main course, an excellent chocolate birthday cake, baked by the grand-daughters. Such joy!

After the supper, the general manager of the hotel and restaurant drove us back to the hotel on his way home. He said he was most annoyed that guests staying just three miles away should have to pay £25 for a taxi to return at 10.00pm, having paid only £15 for the outward journey. This he attributed to the fact that even a local taxi would have to come out to the Vineyard to pick us up, because every taxi in a wide area around Cardiff would be queuing in search of lucrative fares the city centre, not stationed locally as at other times. Cardiff's celebrated night time economy may do the city some good, but isn't it also draining economic life and activity from the surrounding regions?

Still, we finished the evening with a bottle of Prosecco, drunk from toothbrush glasses in our room, before turning in, so happy to be re-united again. The best birthday present of all.

This morning, I was up and breakfasting ahead of everyone else, as I had an assignment to celebrate Mass at St German's at eleven, and needed to leave by, to go home and change. Everyone was home, enjoying the sunshine and drinking a late coffee in Clare's lovely garden when I got back. Lunch was spread out over much of the afternoon, as everyone had eaten a hearty breakfast before checking out of the hotel. Eddy and Ann left first for their long journey to Felixstowe. The rest of us went to the play park on Llandaff Fields for a while, before Kath Anto and Rhiannon left for Kenilworth. We have the pleasure of nearly two weeks with Rachel, but only until Tuesday with Jasmine, who returns early to Arizona with her dad on Thursday.

In the evening we sat and watched the video of Despicable Me II, and laughed a lot. Jasmine seemed to know lots of the lines, so I guess she's seen it several more times than us. Great fun.

 

Edging out browser choice

In the office again this afternoon, evaluating the new Microsoft Edge web browser, and setting up the new Acer desktop computer for Ashley, who's been too busy even to take it out of the box. As soon as the registration and initialization procedure was completed, the machine flagged up that it was immediately ready to upgrade to Windows 10, so I let it run, even though  had to leave before it was completed.

Edge presents itself with a minimal interface, a like Chrome in the early days. Changing the default  search engine from Bing to Google involves drilling down into the advanced settings menu. It's not wholly explicit. It doesn't list options, just gives you few greyed out empty menu options. You need to call up a Google homepage tab, then go into the settings menu before it displays a menu option that reflects the tab you've opened. Only then can your default setting be changed.

Come to think of it, the browser choice menu doesn't appear, giving you the option from the outset to choose between Internet Explorer, Chrome, Firefox and Safari. Does this mean that Edge as the default browser will be imposed until another round of litigation takes place? The enforcement of browser choice took place when  Internet Explorer was presenting so many security problems that an argument for choice was reasonable and in everyone's best interests. Edge hadn't been born at that time, intends to provide the security Internet Explorer at once failed to do. So, part of the argument justifying browser choice no longer exists, unless advocates for software freedom once more take Microsoft to law, an expensive process, with less certainty of winning. Time will tell, I guess.

 

Windows 10 comes to CBS

Today has been spent in the CBS office again, working on a job description to drive recruitment for the appointment of a Business Crime Reduction Manager for the city centre. The job will take on many of the Partnership functions we've been carrying and developing over the past six years. It's been quite a revelation to review all the minor activities generated by our work, making up the total picture, like camera pixels

First thing, my office PC, being the newest, fastest and most capable of taking advantage of the faster office broadband link, announced it was ready for the Windows 10 upgrade. True to the Microsoft promise, the upgrade took an hour, and left every program I installed working properly. Just as well, as I needed to be able to put it to use immediately. It'll take a few days to read the reviews and try out all the new features, however.

Ashley and I had a first meeting this morning with the new Brains area manager, who has been invited to be a BCRP Board member. Another element of much needed progress in developing the public face of the organisation is now in place. On the the way back to the office, we bought a new Acer 23" desktop PC for Ashley in John Lewis', to replace his six year old Vista laptop. In the business realm, the value of equipment like this decreases to virtually nothing, even though it works adequately. Everything else works well enough with new cloud based services, but older kit can struggle a bit for lack of processing power, or a not fast enough network hardware on board

I say 'works well enough', as Windows 10 re-synchronises the whole of our OneDrive file system as if it had never happened before, and it proved annoyingly slow. Working files saved, so others could access them, took an hour or so to show up and be accessible from another machine's file menu. Curiously however, OneDrive accessed from a browser found the files immediately. With millions of computers re-syncing with their Cloud drives on any given day after upgrading, it seems to me we can expect a period when file access from the desktop filesystem is less than efficient.

Still, that's number one machine updated. I wonder how long I will have to wait before Windows 10 is ready to install on any of my home machines?

A bussy day

With both parish clergy on holiday, I was drafted in to celebrate two Eucharists this morning, one at St Luke's for ten people followed by another at St Catherine's for half a dozen. Clare again needed the car for an appointment, so I was obliged to walk between churches with hardly enough time to arrive punctually. Thankfully, an 11 bus came along as I came close to a stop, saving me five minutes, and it deposited me at a stop close to the 61 bus route. I got lucky a second time as another bus turned up as I was approaching a second stop. This brief journey saved me a few minutes more and got me to the church with ten minutes to spare.

After the second service, I walked over to Cathedral Road and took another bus into town to visit the National Express ticket office to book a coach seat to visit my sister June in London tomorrow. Here my luck ran out. There was only room on the much too early 5.30am coach. Every coach thereafter until 2.30pm was full, as it's such a busy time of year. I'd left it too late, and had to abandon my plan for the time being. Sure I could have booked on the internet when I first thought of it, but I hate the National Express website, which always tries my patience. As I'm in town so often, it's no problem to pop into the office and get a real ticket. Things are changing however.

On August 1st, the coach station closes for the redevelopment of Central Square and is relocating in Sophia Gardens, half the distance from home for me. There will doubtless be chaos for a while, as many buses, especially to the east side of town will have their terminuses relocated. A new service has been recently introduced linking the far west and far east of the city directly, and passing through the centre, though not run by Cardiff Bus but by another company NAT. The new service started in May this year, and is already proving popular, according to a bus driver I talked to. This must make a big difference to those who'd otherwise have to travel into the central area, wait and change buses.

The coming months of demolition and reconstruction of part of the city centre will be an opportunity for me to add to my photographic record of the redevelopment phase of 2006-2009. Already in the three months while I was away in Spain, the new office block to the west of Central Square grew from a four storey skeleton to a nine storey building, and the Admiral building, just behind the Saint David Shopping Centre finally opened and is now occupied by a couple of thousand staff. Interesting times indeed.

Partnership progress

After a brief catch up session with our chairman, the Cardiff Business Crime Reduction Partnership Board met again yesterday afternoon, with me resuming the secretarial role. We had a full turn out of members and got a pleasing amount of business done. This in turn generates follow up work for me, but I don't mind. Getting the Board up and running has been a long term project of mine, fraught with difficulties due to the legacy of the initial efforts before my time to set up an effective organisation. It was a long process of learning by trial and error, due to differences in expectation and officer changes by participating partners, but that turns into worthwhile experience once things are working properly.

This morning,  before going to her study group, Clare took me to Splott to celebrate the Eucharist for a dozen worshippers at St Saviours. I arrived early and found the church hall open and cheerfully busy with preparations for a food bank distribution after the service . It was a quietly impressive and encouraging sight. I was fortunate to get a bus from the stop opposite the church, soon after taking my leave, which took me conveniently all the way back to Canton and then home to write up the record of yesterday's meeting.

 

It's a couple of years since I last took minutes. I was relieved to find that my short term recall isn't yet deteriorating with age. By the end of the afternoon, I'd sent the draft to the Chairman, and received in return a framework job description to adapt. Hopefully a speedy agreement on this will enable the recruitment of a Business Crime Reduction Manager by the end of summer. This will mark a huge leap forward in the Partnership development process.

 

Weather for ducks

Enough of a break in the rain yesterday to enable us to walk from Cardiff Bay across the Barrage to Penarth, and watch the cormorants fishing successfully in the weir - to slick and quick for me to get a photo of them with catch in mouth. A keen eyed child could spot a bird gobbling a fish faster than I could focus on it. This was my best shot.

This morning I awoke early and it was raining heavily. I got soaked walking to and from St Catherine's where I celebrated the 8.00am Eucharist for just one one person, undeterred by by the downpour. The rain had stopped by the time I walked back to church to celebrate the 10.30 Eucharist, at which I preached about natural abundance as a feature of the biblical world view, in the context of the story of the feeding of the multitude, today's Gospel. 

The congregation was much diminished by the holiday season, yet there were still several families with small children children present. I was delighted to learn that the Parish Messy Church sessions are bringing in dozens of children with their parents, and even more delighted to hear that members of Calvary Baptist Church on Cowbridge road are sharing in the venture as well.

It so happened that the first-fruits of the Church garden's green beans were on offer for a donation over coffee afterwards, so we had these for lunch along with broad beans from last week's veggie box. Such a pleasure! 

After lunch, rain notwithstanding, we drove over to Bristol to see Amanda, glad to find her in good spirits, and to chat with James, after the challenge of the first year of his computer studies course, justifably pleased with his results. On the return trip, the sun broke through the clouds and warmed the car as we crossed the Severn estuary, but the consolation was short lived. More rain to dampen the week ahead I'm afraid.

 

Trials of re-installation

Overcast and 15C here in Cardiff today, such a contrast to Nerja at 30C. Instead of being bathed in sweat, torrential rain, and the need to wear a thick cardigan to keep warm. Summer has indeed got lost here, as one news presenter put it. Still, plenty to do indoors, with several computers to revive with huge numbers of updates, and a mound of mail to get through after three months of absence.  Still, no bills. One new bank card, and a special discount for prompt renewal of my coach card, and lots of financial statements to file. ready for tax return time.

Late afternoon I went into the CBS office and checked the computers for updates and caught up with Ashley. Last week, CBS and all its working systems moved yet again, our seventh relocation in six years, always following in the footsteps of City Centre management. In fact we're back where we were two years ago in a slightly enlarged space. Our monitoring systems have evolved somewhat in that time, as our RadioNet operations have grown in sophistication.

I was quite amazed, given the complexity and difficulty of packing and moving so much equipment, that the system was running without problems. Apart from a MS Surface proprietory charger, nothing had gone missing, and even that turned up later in the evening in a bag of unsorted items. MS Office had given up the ghost on the main admin machine while I was away, but Libre Office was also installed and had sufficed as a fall back remedy. 

Attempts to repair MS Office from the original 15 year old disks failed, not because they were damaged or incompatible, they worked fine.  Un-installation prior to a full re-install was needed. Attempting to do this gave another error message, demanding the presence of another MS product (in our case MS Works) to be installed as a precondition of installing Office. MS Word was installed however, but was being ignored - probably caused by a deleted registry entry. This means finding the original MS Works disk at home, and doing a repair or re-install with it before MS Office will re-install. 

I was not pleased with myself, when a search for the installation disk at home revealed an empty disc box. Now, where to start the long search? At home or in the office. If I can't find it, the hassles will multiply. The company can afford to purchase an all new Office suite, but none of us who'd be using it can afford the time to learn an annoying new user interface. Or, in the case of Publisher, have backward file compatibility issues. Libre Office works well for most things, but is just a bit slower, and not as flexible for Publisher type document creation. We simply need to continue admin functions along the lines they have developed, as using a learned system, even if quirky, is more efficient and less error prone than a load of new software that may not think about the user, the way the user needs to be thought of. So, I'd better be able to find that disk - soon !

 

Return to Wales

Yesterday morning celebrated the Eucharist for the last time in the Church shop honouring St Mary Magdalen with half a dozen faithful workers. Then it was simply a matter of going back to the house for a day of tidying, cleaning, gathering in and packing my goods and chattels for the journey home. Being so extremely humid, it wasn't an occasion to venture much beyond the rubbish and re-cycling bins. Not since a visit to Jamaica in the 1980's have I experienced such a combination of humidity and high temperature. Some Spanish people are saying it's not been so bad in their lifetime. It's hard to get a good night's sleep, so again I was up an hour before sunrise, dripping with perspiration from hardly any effort at all.

My last duty before leaving Nerja was to meet a couple whose wedding blessing is being performed on Sunday by the incoming locum priest, as he won't arrive in time to brief them before the service. It meant that I had to brief them according to his emailed instructions. Within the confines of liturgical formality priests may indeed vary in the manner they are accustomed to perform the ritual. This is probably the first time I've had to rehearse and explain a service to a couple on behalf of someone else, and I was unusually nervous about it. It worked out fine, as both had been married before and didn't need the kind of explanations that first-timers, often nervous, ask for.

I returned for an early lunch and completed packing, but had trouble figuring how the strap binding together a rather full and heavy soft case was meant to work. I wrestled with it and continued to drip sweat, not yet dressed for the journey when the doorbell rang adding to my panic. It was Judith who'd come to collect me for the airport run. Only when I'd been safely deposited inside Terminal Three at Malaga AGP, half an hour earlier in case of congestion, was I able to sit down and deal with the strap. There was indeed a half an hour queue at check-in, but I passed quickly through security afterwards, with lots of time to spare, and could at last relax.

I sat next to an interesting and sociable man from the Valleys about my age on the 'plane, who'd been a miner and then an underground fire and rescue officer for half his life, until the pits closed. He and his wife often holidayed in Nerja and were very fond of the place, getting to know many of the locals over the years, despite language differences. We talked quite a lot about mining, something I haven't done for years, and was glad to do. His life after pit closures took him eventually to working with students in a hall of residence for Glamorgan University, making friends with people from all over the world. The flight passed very quickly, and soon we were crossing the Severn Estuary, following the Jurassic coastline into cool and cloudy Rhoose Airport

My case was third to arrive on the baggage conveyor, and this meant I was on the next shuttle bus into town without delay. I walked home from the bus station, tugging my case, as that was preferable to a wait of half an hour to catch any one of several buses going Pontcanna or Canton way. I didn't mind at all, as the ambient temperature was bearable, despite the lack of blue skies.

Clare's gardening efforts this year have produced a lovely colourful summer display

Our little apple tree with its two kinds of fruit has an amazing crop of red and green apples, thanks to our local urban bee population.

While I've been away, the small garden birds have rediscovered our modest votive offering of seed. Despite the promise of more cloud and rain, it's good to be home.

Granada revisited

After another humid night's sleep I woke up at first light and resolved to go out for the day. By 8.30, I was on my way to revisit Granada, enjoying the spectacular views which the Autovia gives as it rises through the Alpujarras, skirting huge reservoirs on long tall viaducts. Nowhere to stop and take photos unfortunately. Next time I must make sure to take a passenger or have someone else drive.

The Autovia goes over the 860m pass known as the Puerto del Suspiro del Moro before descending to the plain where most of the modern city lies. It's said to be the last place on the east-west highway from which the Alhambra Palace on the hillside above the plain, can be seen. The Moor's sigh was that of Boabdil, the last muslim ruler of the city as he went into exile after the city was conquered by a Christian army. It was none too easy in the morning haze to identify anything in the distance eight miles away.

I followed the bypass road which took me straight to the Alhambra Palace, aware that I'd find parking there, or at the large public cementario close by, but I missed the turning first time and ended up on a tour of the city centre, before finding my way to a tree shaded space inside the permiter of the Palace tourism area. From there I walked right down into the old quarter and up the other side into the Albayzin, where we stayed ten years ago when Anto and I came out for a flamenco guitar course. Here are the photos from that occasion, back in September 2004.

Despite recently reviewing the photos I took at that time, only as I walked around did my memory seem to re-activate and associate with the environment. The mini market where we used to buy food during our stay seems to have closed. It was too early in the day for many of the restaurants to have even laid out their tables. Miguel's bar was closed too, but I found the Bar de las Quatros Esquinas open near the top entrance to the barrio, serving breakfast and morning coffee to local clientele. It's a district still remarkably free of garish advertising. There are still a number of tumbledown properties being renovated, as ever in a quarter of old buildings, but they are different ones. It all feels well cared for. If there is prosperity behind the walls facing the streets, it's not for display.

Right down the bottom end of the barrio, I discovered an open gateway to the garden and ducal Palacio de los Cordova in it, which I don't recall being open a decade ago. It may have been under renovation at the time. It was handed over to the city for development as a city archive centre back in the late seventies. It was lovely to discover such a fine place. I look back at my old photos and realise how much we did see, but there's still so much more to see, as the city is so rich in historic buildings as well as those of the Alhambra Palace. Photos from my birthday visit in 2005 are here.

From the Albayzin, I made my way down into that part of the city centre containing the Cathedral, which feels so closely wedged into the surrounding streets. It's an immense building, but in a way it fails to be imposing as it might be because there are few places from where you can get a perspective on its grandeur, much like Malaga, Valencia and Tortosa Cathedrals, visited in recent years. Attached to one end of the Cathedral is a grand Capilla Real (Chapel Royal) dating from just after the reconquista, 1505.  It's the last resting place of Fredinand and Isabella and several others, honoured by the Pope with the Catholic Monarchs in tribute to the achievement ending moorish rule in Spain. Later Spanish monarchs were interred at the El Escorial monastery near Madrid.

The Cathedral, in Spanish renaissance style, rather than Gothic, was established soon after, on the site of the city's main mosque, and took a century and a half to build. Unlike others, it wasn't a site that was once a church being reclaimed from Islam. Like others, this site was at the heart of the ancient 'central business district' as we'd call it today. Clearing a much larger site to give the new buildings a decent aspect would have been an imposition not worth risking for the conquering monarchs.

It's interesting to observe, since my last visit, that many of the streets in this now fashionable stylish old trading area have sun canopies suspended from their sixth storey roofs. It's not something I recall from a decade ago. The persistence of higher than average temperatures inland call for some measure of this kind from a public health perspective, with so many visitors all day every day, who are not always as sensible about going out in the heat of the day, and don't take a siesta. Neverthless the light brown canvas awnings providing shade detract from the aesthetics of the built environment. It will be interesting to see in the long term what innovations emerge to provide a pleasing solution. 

Malaga has opted for avenues of well managed trees, over and above the traditional ones in places where people walk or ride their horses. In Granada, the hillside on which the Alhambra Palace sits is covered with trees shading visitors as they walk to and from the town. The hill has a good supply of water and both trees and ground vegetation get a good soaking during the day. This may be too costly a solution in times of water scarcity, however. Learning to live in cities with consequences of global warming is of of the great challenges facing the next generation. Perhaps we'll start building downwards into the cool earth, and cover our public spaces and buildings with huge photo-voltaic translucent powering them - Hobbit cities.

By one o'clock, I'd been walking non stop for three hours and the temperature was rising. Rather than exhaust myself, I headed back to Nerja and a late lunch, already thinking about a further visit with Clare and another sojourn in the Albayzin, fondly remembered. Photos from today's visit are here.

  

Working the Word

Today, my last Sunday Eucharist to the accompaniment of air cooling fans, at least for the time being. Again, despite my best efforts with the microphone, there were still complaints I couldn't be heard. This is the worst kind of frustration for a preacher. You start wondering if it's worth the effort you put into it, especially when the audibility of the lessons is also in doubt. In this climate listening to the Word requires willingness to endure a certain degree of discomfort to get fifteen minutes of quiet, but there's a certain nervousness about imposing this on visitors who may feel deterred by discomfort - well they may feel deterred equually if they can't hear. 

Suddenly my memory erupts with the title of Berton & Harrison's book from my youthful days in ministry 'The Comfortable Pew'. How does any congregation today survive the visit of the 'Mystery Shopper' churchgoer, willing to sweat a little to hear what the Spirit says to the Churches, and is then disappointed by being unable to hear or make sense of what the church proclaims. There are limits to what a locum priest can insist on when others, better versed in local affairs than he, are entrusted with holding things together. 

One thing a locum can do, apart from celebrate the sacraments, is to offer interpretation of scripture in the liturgy of the day. If for any reason a congregation over which I had pastoral charge (which as a 'hired hand' I don't), couldn't hear properly, and there was no other opportunity to improve audibility, I'd make time to print off the Sunday readings and a summary of my address and key intercession points to give to people to read and take away. More expensive textual consumerism, the cynic might say. Agreed. The liturgical norm is now the takeway leaflet! It's not a perfect solution but one that respects the purpose of the gathering.

I was happier with the Alternative Service Book of 1980 despite its limitations, because it was faithful to the strategic design concept of a single Book of Common Prayer complementing the Bible from 1549 onwards. I've been an experimenter and innovator in liturgical praxis for the past half century, but I still wish we could recognise and stay faithful to the gift renaissance and reformation worship practitioners gave us. Just because we have all the core texts and variations accessible on line, and can replace the book with the tablet for reading scripture or prayers, doesn't detract from the central idea of having a text in your hand that doesn't need a web connection or a re-charging.

Recently IKEA, God bless them, promoted their annual product catalogue with a satire of an iPad advertisment. All it needs now is for some smart seminarian to come up with a promotional ad. for Common Worship - the book - as a radically innovative an alternative to Visual Liturgy on-line. 

Honestly I don't hate digital media or on line liturgical archives. I use them like any other slave to time saving corner cutting. The truth is, I think the quality of my prayer life is suffering from months of using the CofE Daily Office and/or iBreviary online, and not having the much more sensual experience of a book I've carried about for decades in my hand. 

There are no fingerprints to wipe from the surface of a book as there are from a screen. A book ages with touch, and absorbs memories of many forgotten moments in its blemishes and annotations. It's far more alive, and I'm much more connected with it physically than with a user interface I can read easily on most devices, even in the dark, so  long as there's power, so long as there's bandwidth. 

Such strange bewildering times we live in.

After the morning's service, I was taken to La Herradura beach for long lunch at the Chambao de Vicente restaurant. It was a lovely relaxed experience with lots of interesting conversation, ending with tea in the house of my hosts and a return to Church House with the setting sun in our faces.

  

Plastic bag tribute

Apart from a brief excursion get replenish food stocks, I spent Friday home alone, avoiding the heat, mostly working at DISC intranet updates. Often a spate of new information comes in after a monthly Radio Users Group and it's in everyone's interests to sort and post it quickly, and right now having work to do is a good distraction. After three weeks of Clare being here with me it's not so easy to revert to solitude. I'm starting to look forward to next Thursday's home flight.

This afternoon, I ventured out in the heat to replenish the stock of cerveza sin alcool which is one thing Spain does well in several varieties and at reasonable prices. There's nothing like a refreshing beer in this hot 'n humid atmosphere, preferably without alcoholic side effects. Many standard soft fizzy drinks seem to be a cocktail of artificial ingredients plus an overdose of sugar or sweetener, ruining the taste buds and who knows what else.

I took with me some empty jars and wine bottles to take to the bottle bank which I pass on my way to the supermarket, still using the same plastic bag that I brought from home with spare shoes in it, a bag acquired in Woodbridge Suffolk last summer, at a splendidly up-market Adnams brewery shop.  I've used it at least every other day for bottle carrying and/or shopping over the past three months. As I was packing my purchases at the Mercadona checkout, the handle parted irreparably from the bag. 

I thought it was worthy of this photo tribute after over fifty heavy goods deployments here in Spain, in between being rolled up and consigned to a spare pocket. Also dozens more uses over the previous nine months back home in Wales."100% Biodegradable ... and of course reusable." it says on the bottom. There's nothing to say where it was made, or by whom. I'd love them to know how much this travelling companion has been appreciated as a sustainable consumer item.
 

Parting pasta

After a lazy start and long breakfast, it was almost midday by the time we paid the bill and quit the Parador. Clare dind't need to check in until three, so we decided to make our way to the sea side at Guadalmar. It was too hot to walk into the Guadalhorce river estuary nature reserve, so we went to a beach chirunguito for a drink and some shade to pass the time. After Clare had organised her baggage for travel and dealt with a blood blister on her toe, we drove out through the urbanizacion, and I saw an Italian restaurant, the Pizzeria Frascati, where we might get a decent lunch not at airport prices. 

We had an hour to spare, but Clare was doubtful they could feed us without putting us under time pressure. There wen't many people eating, I thought it worth the risk. For once I was right. In half an hour, we'd had drinks, and eaten one salad and a plate of spaghetti between us. A half portion was just enough, and we walked up to the Vueling bag check in right on time - a mix of luck and judgement!

By the time I arrived back at Church House, Clare was texting me to say she was about to board her flight. Needless to say the place feels empty and quiet without her, just as hot as ever, and a load of washing to catch up on.

A poster I saw in Guadalmar reminded me that today is the feast of Nuestra Señora, Virgen del Carmen, the fieshmen's fiesta. Here they are, taking our Lady for a sea dip.

I'd hoped to seek out a local celebration and join in, but as they tend to start a little too late after the journey, I didn't feel like going out again. Maybe another time.

  

Luxurious respite

For the first time since I've been here, I drove the car into town and parked a some distance from the Church shop, so that after celebrating the midweek Eucharist, Clare and I could leave without delay for Malaga. We'd booked in to the Gibralfaro Parador hotel for the night, to give us a romantic 24 hour break before Clare flight back to Cardiff. It's situated a hundred metres above the city plain, just beneath the old military outpost, form where you can see in every direction for miles. The view from the Parador's terraces and rooms across the city is also spectacular, or would be in this occasion if it weren't for the dreadful heat haze. At least it's that much cooler on high, and the roar of the city is muted a little, if not suppressed behind triple glazed windows. Here's the view through the haze, with the daily ferry to the Spanish enclave of Mellila on the Moroccan coast, down there in port.

We had a light lunch in the bar, then caught the 35 bus down to the Ajuntamiento, to make our way to the modern entrance to the Alcazaba Palace, through a tunnel and a lift up to the top level of rooms and gardens. It's a delightful place for a hot afternoon, with its fountains and runnng water. Not nearly as spectacular as the Alhambra in Granada, but with many treasures to glimpse in a smaller area, and not nearly as crowded. 

It's my second visit, and I was pleased that Clare liked it as much as I did. We had to wait ages for a 35 bus to take us back up the hill. We could have taken the steep footpath up through the hillside gardens, but waiting in the shady gardens adjacent to the waterfront seemed like a better idea.

Clare then had a swim in the roof-top pool, while I attempted to take photos of big gray and black backed gulls cruising the thermals all around us, but without much success as the sun got in the way of the best shots. We dined on the outdoor terrace of the Parador restaurant, using the Spanish menu and as much Spanish as we could, and the waitress joined in with good humour. It slightly backfired however as I ended up with a beef steak instead of the pork steak I was hoping for, but the roasted green peppers which went with it made it tolerable, along with a very nice red Rioja. Down below at city street level, we could see there was a horse riding in the ring of the town's Plaza de Toros. Music and applause drifted up on the evening breeze, and a succession of diners edged their ways past our table to get the best place to take a photo. I'd not taken my camera along to dinner, wanting to be free to savour the romance of the moment and the company.

The Parador experience is consistently good, and the settings most varied. Staff work very hard, but seem to enjoy what they do. One thing surprised me however, the hotel wifi was unsecured, and no registration was required. It was certainly convenient, but what of the risk of hacking or unsavoury abuse of the system? All I can conclude is that any device logging on is going to be traceable. The bookng system will in any case have the registered email address of service purchacer, and maybe it's all that's needed in the event of mischief. Maybe there's been a change of policy. I recall needing a wi-fi password when we stayed in Ronda Parador last year.

   

Cold soup and Carmelites

Yesterday, it was cloudy though still pretty humid. We walked into town to visit Modus Vivendi for some organic veg, and had some of their delicious gaspacho soup, both to try, and take away. Then, another trip to Frigiliana hoping it would be a little cooler a few hundred metres above the coast, for another excellent lunch at La Bodeguilla. We both tried a local sopa de ajo blanco - a cold soup made with ground almonds and garlic - utterly delicious. I didn't realise that cold soups could be so easy to make given the right recipe and a decent blender.

Today, I took Clare to Velez Malaga by car to introduce her to a town I have begun to appreciate, and was pleased that her impression was as favourable as mine. First we drove up to the Fortaleza, and then into town, to park near the bus station before talking into the old town to see some of its sights. I was especially pleased that the key 16th century St John the Baptist Church, re-built on the site of the former mosque, was open when we got there. It's a church much associated with local Semana Santa observances and their cofradias, some of the key figures carried in procession are on display in side aisle chapels. I was most interested to see what had happened to the bay of the south east aisle, which is distinguished on the outside by remnants of the mihrab of the old mosque.

The shallow apse bears no trace of original decoration. It's simply a renaissance altar with the risen Christ at the centre, aformidable statement in its own right. Unusually, the risen Lord is flanked by two female saints, both Teresas. On the right is the nineteenth century Carmelite Saint Teresa of the Child Jesus - known as 'Little Flower'. On the left is Caremlite reformer and Saint Teresa of Avila, born 1515 in the same century this church was re-built. Both were mystics, both were Carmelite nuns, hugely influential for their spiritual teaching and witness to Christ. 

Velez Malaga had an established Discalced Carmelite convent from the seventeenth century, plus a convent of Poor Clares and a Franciscan Friary, amongst others. All are now cultural centres visted by tourists or used by artists - shrines to human creativity and only occasionally worship sanctuaries, as in so many other parts of modern Europe.

We found a restaurant on the Plaza de Andalusia where we could lunch outdoors under a canopy of plane trees with a noisy population of parakeets in the leafy canopy above us. We had another chance to try local recipes - on this occasion a green salad which included raisins, walnuts, a soft goat/cow cheese, dressed with caña de miel - the distinctive light  sugar cane molasses, once a key product of local agrarian industry. A memorable flavour. It gave us strength for another circuit of historic streets to visit the old consistorio and realise this time how it's linked to the modern building next door which houses the Centre for Exile Studies, and its documentary archive, all funded by the Fundacion Maria Zambrano, as an enthusiastic volunteer guide proudly recounted. At last I'm getting confidence to engage in conversations beyond the call of domestic shopping.

 

Noise in the heat

We walked down to San Miguel for the only Eucharist of today. The level of humidy is quite high at the moment, so all forms of exertion are less than comfortable. There are many cooling fans in the church, but the noise they emit in such a resonant building reduces the audibility of the service quite a lot, and in the absence of an induction loop, this hits the hearing impaired badly. I'm thankful that a good half of the entire service is in the form of familiar set texts and hymns. The scripture readings, intercessions and sermon get lost in background noise, despite the care people take to speak right into the microphone.

We received a message from Fr Vincenzo, the new parish priest in church of Almuñecár, apologising for the timetabling mishap which has led to us having united services at San Miguel in July as well as August. It's comforting to have received a good will message. Lapses of communication do happen in a time of changeover, and are coped with.

We stopped and chatted to visitors in the bar after the service for a long while and it was quite late when we eventually sat down to lunch. As it began to cool down in the early evening, we went down to Burriana beach so Clare could enjoy a swim in the sea, followed by a drink and a tapa again at El Moreno, watching the beach slowly empty as the sun began to set.
  

Barbershop visit

Today was thankfully cloudier and a little cooler. We decided to return to Frigiliana for yet another wander around the streets and their interesting small shops. It was sheer serendipidy that our progress in a narrow street was halted by the passage of several cars, obliging us to stop and take refuge for a moment, next to a barber's shop, La Pelu de Fran. On an impulse, with encouragement from Clare, happy to go gift hunting on her own, I decided it was time for a nine euro haircut. After all it's the best part of eleven weeks since our dear friend Chris gave me luxury treatement at the Coleg Glan Hafren School of Coiffure, and now I'm having mane control issues.

I must emphasise what a risk this move across the threshold of a barber's shop entails for me, without sufficient vocabulary to ensure a happy outcome to the process. OK, the barber has enough English speaking clients to navigate through the morass of desires and vanities in a tongue of which he is not the master, but I needed an opportunity to speak Spanish in the 'real life' context. Well, that's the general idea. It was an enjoyable experience, with a large housewife and a small boy in the queue behind me and others popping their heads around the door and chatting. 

The barbers? A social centre in village life, place to catch up on the news, find out about people you know. I came away with a nice close crop, as short as I had it ten years ago, which pleases me. In this brief experience I recalled visiting a Palestinian barber in East Jerusalem during my sabatical stay in the Holy City. His English was even better, and I got my ear and nose hairs brought under control into the bargain. There's a whole world of intimacy and trust issues surrounding barbers' shops the world over, and lessons to be learned from them about the things that make for peace.

before having lunch another time at La Bodeguilla restaurant - such a good experience. Clare had a swordfish steak again for for main course and I opted for their chorizo, but we both started with sopa de ajo blanco - a cold milky looking soup with the silky flavour of garlic, and the grainy feel of ground almonds, garnished with sweet raisins - a typically local dish, like everything on their menu, and a culinary revelation! I so enjoy eating here, as the all female staff really seem to enjoy sharing with customers the food they prepare.

After lunch we made our way back to Church House by way of Lidl's for some food shopping, and then a late siesta and a leisurely evening supper on the terrace, listening to the birds ending their day with conversations in our neighbouring pine tree.