Personal

Paul is WFH

This is no good. The cold that's been doing the rounds at work finally caught up with me today. I'm a bundle of aching, tired bones.

I've grabbed the work laptop and a stack of documents so I can work from home. I will conquer this by Monday, and I might even have been productive in the meantime.

Arts

Film: Stage Beauty

I wasn't surprised to read that Stage Beauty is an adaptation of a play. The pace of the film varied hugely in a way that seems typical of adaptations. (This seems to a characteristic that doesn't work well on screen, yet does on stage.)

I'd describe the film as another OK British picture. Great in parts, but somehow the whole doesn't quite cut it. A Sunday afternoon film.

Tech

SPAM score=8.2: MSG_PROSELYTIZING

I'm still receiving religious spam. Here's today's. At least the last line shows Service-with-a-Smile still exists.

From: Ray Wright <qayquqssirgmo@...>
To: paul.bennett@...
Subject: FW: A new beginning
Date: 27 September 2004 20:48

Before its too late make your peace with GOD, and make sure the ones you love do also.

Accept him.
Repent.
Get baptized.
And have a nice eternity.

If anti-spam software starts rejecting messages based on religious content, will this be the a new use for the term Vicars and Tarts?

Tech

Burning a hole in your pocket

No prizes for guessing what will be all over the news this week, and it all starts today.

Virgin's just announced their intent to provide a new class of flight. At £115,000 for a flight that lasts two hours and drops you off at the same airport you left from, it makes First Class look cheap. (And that's the starting price. I hate to think what it tots up to if you want access to the Executive Lounge.)

I can't say I'm not impressed (I like technology) but I won't be the first in the queue.

Personal

Welsh Cakes

How to round off Emma's first weekend in Woodbridge? For reasons not yet clear we settled on making Welsh Cakes.

A tribute to Emma's current country of residence?
A nod to memories of Mum and Ruth cooking during rugby?

I have no idea why we did this, but it was a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Personal

Twinkle-Pop

"Pop" looked pissed off. She's spent a lot of time building up her pitch on Woodbridge Thoroughfare, Barrett's Beds to her right and Unwins to her left. Each Saturday she'll be there with her colourful clothes and permanent smile, blowing balloons and twisting them into shapes that are she boldly asserts are animals.

Not yesterday.

Yesterday Pop was upstaged by Twinkle-Toes.

He announced his presence with a stamp, this suited old man. As his tape recorder stretched out 20s music, "Mr Twinkle Toes" tapped his way round his cane, his bemused face seeming to ask the question that was on everyone's lips: "Am I really doing this?".

Pop folded her arms and let her smile droop for a second. I sneaked a photograph of the tap-dancer and moved on.

I imagine Pop's smile will return. Twinkle-Toes was spreading an infectious, incredulous glee down The Thoroughfare that was hard to resist.

Call it a week off. The balloon modelling can wait until next week.

Personal

Waiting

The reason for my tidy house? Emma's making her first visit to Woodbridge today.

So tonight I'm waiting. She called at noon to let me know she was just leaving work and I'm just beginning to realise how long six hours is.

There must be a reason why I'm going out with someone who lives on the opposite coast...

Arts

Book: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time

Many people rave about this book. It's won awards and plaudits all over the place. And this week I finally got round to reading it.

So if you've read it, and enjoyed it, I'd be interested to know: what makes it a good book?

I was amused and entertained by the first two or three chapters, but quickly became bored and tired with its style. By the last page I was quite glad it was over.

Perhaps I'm just blind to its literary wonders.

Personal

Still thinking of London

A while ago I wrote a list of places to breathe in London. Reviewing them now I realise we took in half of them this weekend. I'll be return for the other half soon no doubt.

(I miss London terribly, and have been talking of moving back for ages. But I'm beginning to realise that may never happen.)

Arts

Film: The Terminal

So much better than I ever thought it would be, The Terminal comes highly recommended.

Yes that is Tom Hanks and Catherine Zeta Jones. Yes they tend to annoy me too, but somehow here they transcend their usual stereotypes.

Go see it.

Tech

Little silver discs

An old friend has made a reappearance in my life. I lent my iPod to Emma for the week so I've had to reacquaint myself with the five inch silver discs that music used to come on.

(I'm glad I lent it to Em; her five hour train journey home from London doubled when the train to Aberystwyth was cancelled without warning.)

It's been an interesting twenty-four hours. I felt almost nostalgic flipping through the rack of CDs, selecting my evening's musical accompaniment, and the sounds I'll be driving to all week.

I wonder whether I've lost something with the iPod. Previously when I bought a new album it'd lodge itself in my CD player for a week, slowly burning its way into my subconscious. These days I'll listen to an album once or twice before flicking on to old favourites. (Does the iPod give new music a chance?)

It's commonly said the iPod changes how we listen to music. I'm beginning to think that might not be a good thing.

Angels

In the Natural History Museum

If any town was to give a glimpse of an angel in an unexpected place, it was bound to be London. Here's the echo of an angel in the National History Museum.

(By the way, am I the only one who goes into that museum for the architecture rather than the exhibits?)

Personal

The view from above

The end of a long day. Emma and I are seeing the sights in the place I consider my constant home.

We'd intended to go to the theatre tonight, but instead ended up riding the London Eye. The last time I looked down over a city was from the Empire State Building in New York. There are no perfect tramlines of lights here, just London's chaotic constellations.

We boarded as dusk fell, and during our journey the dark silhouette of the Palace of Westminster was replaced by a deep orange glow as the floodlights warmed up. By the time we were down it was dark and patchwork of puddles on The Embankment were mirrors on the lights and sky above.

This was a fantastic way to end the day.

Greenbelt

Party

Here's something I've never done before: go to London for the weekend.

Time to change that.

Tonight's the post-festival party: a chance for everyone who worked at Greenbelt to catch up on each others' gossip, without the intrusion of radios or sudden disasters that need dealing with. It'll be great to see people I only caught in passing at the festival.

Greenbelt

Home again

It's been two weeks, but finally my house is looking like a home again. Tonight I stored away the last of the Greenbelt things. All that's left now is to sort through the bills and other paperwork that came through while I was away.

Arts

Film: The Bourne Supremacy

Have I seen too many action films? Despite a number of great moments, my mind began to wander more than once during The Bourne Supremacy.

Perhaps it was a little too complex - I needed brainless mid-week entertainment. But at times it seemed lazy too. Too often these days directors seem to think that to up the pace in their films, all they need do is shake the camera a bit. Am I the only one who finds this nauseating?

So I'll call the film so-so. If you want to switch off for a while, it'll do the trick.

Outside the cinema, it's clear Autumn's on its way. For the first time since Spring, I wore a jacket as I walked through the town. The darkness is gathering too and in a few short weeks it'll be pitch black before the 7.45 showing starts.

Arts

Book: Eleanor Rigby

I can't make up my mind. I thoroughly enjoyed reading Douglas Coupland's latest novel but is it any good?

Of all his novels, only two really stand out for me: Generation X and Microserfs. I don't think Eleanor Rigby will be joining that list. Don't misunderstand - it's a great read - but the competition is high.

All the hallmarks of Coupland's writing are present: the personal narrative; questions of faith and meaning; extraordinary events that somehow become believably routine; compassion. Throughout words and phrases leap from the page begging to be quoted. Once again Coupland's written from the perspective of a character I found incredibly easy to empathise with.

Three days after I finished reading it though, the book's no longer on my mind. So does mean it was no good, or that it's working its magic on me in a more subtle way?

Anyone else read it?

Comment

Slow

1948 - Site acquired for replacement primary school
2004 - Submission of planning application

Suffolk doesn't like to rush things. All of a sudden I'm impressed it only took three months to turn down our application.

Greenbelt

A timely idea

Just as we're gearing up on A Year of Living Generously, I've come across another group doing exactly the same thing.

We Are What We Do launch mid-week, with their book How to Save the World for a Fiver. Their emphasis is slightly different to ours, but the spirit is the same.

It's not too late to join the Generous project... drop us an email and we'll add you to the list.

Coastwalk

Allhallows → Allhallows-on-Sea

Distance: 3.96 miles
Ascent: 171 metres
Duration: 1 hour 31 minutes

Where the river meets the sea
« Strood | Gravesend »

One option was to walk twenty miles today. That's my remaining distance in Kent, the last unconquered stretch of coastline in south-east England. I could have polished it off.

But to be honest, my heart wasn't in it today. (And besides, I didn't exactly get up early.) Instead I took my time on a leisurely stroll past the disused lighthouse where The Thames finally runs out into the sea.

Across the river I could clearly make out Southend-on-Sea, although despite the fact that it stretches half-way across to the shore I was standing on, I couldn't quite discern the pier. A strong breeze accompanied the walk, guiding clouds across an otherwise saturated blue sky. The ground was dry and easy, the water lapping gently at the base of the sea wall.

I should do more walks at this pace - it was wonderfully relaxing.

Tech

The cost of calling

"Erm hi, hello. This is Jonathan Simmonds from Cruise Connection."

This isn't the start of a message I want to hear.

I've won a cruise apparently. Funny that I've not entered for any draw, that my name is down on the UK's "do not call" list, and that I have a sneaking suspicion nothing comes for free.

"To claim your cruise, simply call 090 6125 ..." ah, there's the punch-line. That call would cost me £1.50 per minute. No mention of the cost in the message of course. I wonder how many people call just in case it's true.

But why is it so difficult to dig this information out of BT's website? You have to first check for the charge rate the number's in, then cross-reference that on the call charge list. Is it too much for BT to have a cost calculator on the website that does all this work?

Nice money if you don't mind breaking the law to earn it.

Arts

Film: The Stepford Wives

While the film makes a valid point about identity and freedom, its method is blunt and clumsy. Funny in places, but far wide of the mark in others. Emma tells me she'll watch the film on the plane on her way back from Turkey. Probably the best place to see it.

Personal

Refused

"Only six weeks," I said, "and my neighbours and I will have an answer."

Three months later, the news this week is that the council has declined our planning application to create off-street parking at the back of the our cottages. The proposal would "have a significant adverse impact on the setting of these listed buildings," they say.

Bum.

I don't know what to say. It's as if Suffolk Coastal are actively trying to dissuade people from living and working locally, seeking instead to turn Woodbridge into a town of holiday homes. And to think I was considering staying.

Arts

Film: Spider-Man 2

It's a Tuesday evening and I'm back in D13 trying to block out the thought of work. Instead my mind's trying to map plot themes from a summer blockbuster sequel onto my own life.

I'm most definitely home.

(The film? Ah, it was OK. But really I went just for the cinema.)

Personal

Return trip

Here it is then, the other half of the exchange. The return trip. The foreigner about town.

I swapped ten pebbles from Shingle Street for a single stone from Tanybwlch.

The ten I took to the west are undoubtedly lighter than this one brought back to the east. If this island of ours is floating, I've upset the balance. The eastern coast will be just that little lower down today.

Could this be the reason for Suffolk's accelerating coastal erosion? Should I spend the rest of the year driving boot-loads of shingle over to the Cambrian Coast?

(Or could it be that my brain still isn't fully into gear after a long holiday?)

Personal

September sounds

Five sounds from last night, in Cambridgeshire:

• Occasional road traffic
• Owls hooting next door
• A house going to bed
• Goods train passing on the nearby mainline
• My breathing: slow, measured, relaxed

Five from tonight, in Suffolk:

• The hum of my laptop fan
• Next door's television, drifting in through open windows
• People chatting in the street
• A car struggling up the hill
• The high whine I hear when I'm too tired

I'm home at last. Tomorrow I go to work.

Greenbelt

Where we've come from

Driving from Aberystwyth to Peterborough today (I was giving Em a lift to her Mum's - it's not far off my way to Woodbridge), we passed the village of Deene. This was Greenbelt's home before Cheltenham, and I couldn't resist the temptation to stop just briefly.

It's interesting to see how far we've come. There was a lot of worry amongst organisers as to how Greenbelters would take to Centaur, Cheltenham's big indoor venue. But rather than talk about missing the green fields, the feedback I've seen asked practical questions about why you had to queue again if you popped out to use the loo.

It seems that in some ways Greenbelters have adapted to the racecourse faster than Greenbelt has. Maybe this is the last time I'll stop to look across what is after all just another green field.

Ceredigion Coast Path , Coastwalk

Borth → Aberystwyth

Distance: 6.31 miles
Ascent: 451 metres
Duration: 3 hours 38 minutes

The start of something new
« Ynyslas | Llanrhystud »

This is the third time I've been to Aberystwyth in the past month, and the first time I've got out on to the coast path. It's not that I've been reluctant to head out, but you know how it is when you make a new friend: your priorities shift and you find yourself putting some things on hold.

Coastwalk

Pendine → St Clears

Distance: 10.4 miles
Ascent: 260 metres
Duration: 3 hours 12 minutes

The end of the summer
« Amroth | Carmarthen »

My final walk of this segment seemed to coincide with the official end of the summer. As I passed Laugharne castle, workmen were erecting scaffolding around it, presumably to patch up the bruises left by a season of tourists. Later, recovering in Carmarthen, ice cream was half price and I couldn't buy a postcard anywhere - they'd all been withdrawn from sale.

Most of today's walk was on roads again - in particular the busy A4066. However, if you're ever in the area I strongly recommend following the central section on footpaths either side of Laugharne. North of the village the footpath follows meadows alongside the River Taf, while to the south it climbs Sir John's Hill to provide spectacular views across to Pendine Sands.

Coastwalk

St Clears → Carmarthen

Distance: 17.5 miles
Ascent: 508 metres
Duration: 5 hours 52 minutes

Farmers: the good and the bad
« Pendine | Ferryside »

After three miles today I wanted to give up. The footpath had been blocked by a thick tangle of brambles and with no way round I had to take a long detour through fields of soaking, long grass.

By the time I reached the road both feet were cold and my right one had taken to make farting noises with every step. I wrung so much water out of my socks that I wondered how there was any room left in my boots for my feet. Not a good start. Why do landowners treat rights of way with such contempt?