Arts

Film: The Life and Death of Peter Sellers

A memory: eleven years ago, in the common room at Nutford House; me and an Iranian student in fits of laughter in front of A Shot in the Dark, while everyone else shook their heads in bemusement.

I think Dad was a big fan of Sellers' work. I certainly remember frequent references to the Goon Show, and I'm sure we watched Pink Panther films together. Those times are to blame for my love of slapstick and the surreal.

But today was the first time I've seen Peter Sellers' name on a cinema marquee. It was an abbreviation of the film title rather than the name of the leading man. The film walked through Sellers' life, overdubbing and redubbing to the point where I wondered if it would ever be possible to know the man at all. It was very bittersweet.

So give me Strangelove and Clouseau. Though tonight's biopic suggest the characters were a root of unhappiness, it's them I want to see. Give me tripping over chairs and a custard-pie finale. These are the things I need to transport me from my today.

Tech

A spammy day

At seven o'clock this evening, an online casino started spamming the Year of Living Generously website. We've got it under control now, but dealing with this rubbish is annoying to say the least.

(Geeks might like to know the spam was sourced from a single computer, but came to us via a number of insecurely configured Windows computers. Not much of a surprise, huh?)

I have to wonder about the timing though. I've had a link to YOLG from my website - as others have - for some time now. But this weekend, we included a link to it from Greenbelt's email newsletter, Festival Dispatches. Is this just a coincidence or are website addresses being harvested from emails now?

I should have known the evening would work out like this. As I got in from work an anonymous robot called my home phone, congratulating me on winning a free trip to California. Is there no haven from spam?

Greenbelt

FaF-spotting

A question I hear every now and then is, "Whatever happened to the guys from Fat and Frantic?"

The last I heard of them was during the closing moments of Greenbelt '98, where a reformed FaF led an all-comers ensemble in U2's "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For". (It was the last festival at Deene Park, and it was hard to look forward to ascertain whether it'd be the last Greenbelt of all. Thankfully six festivals later, Greenbelt is bigger even than those days.)

Anyway, walk into your local newsagent and you'll find "Fat" Jon Soper. Turn with me to page seventy-four of the December 2004 issue of Q. Number two on the panel tasked with finding the "most offensive song" of all time is a trendy vicar you might recognise.

One down, four to go. Anyone got leads on Silas Crawley, Jim Harris, Craig McLeish or Simon Saunders?

Comment

The Hunt

A slow start this morning meant there wouldn't be time to complete the walk I'd intended to do before dark. Instead I drove round the villages on the Hoo peninsula through which the walk will pass.

Driving out of Allhallows I unexpectedly found myself in the middle of a hunt. The pack of 30-40 beagles were hunting a single hare that had been spotted in the field earlier. They were being led by perhaps a dozen hunters on foot.

This is only the second time I've seen a hunt in progress. It will almost certainly be the last.

I can't deny that hunters make a glorious sight in their proud uniforms of alternating green and white: hats, cravats, jackets, trousers and socks. As I chatted with them, one huntsman tucked into a ham sandwich, his carefully trimmed moustache somehow accentuating the stereotype of his dress.

My instinct is that hunting for sport is inappropriate. And that's what today's activity seemed to be about. I was told that no animal had been caught as yet, and that it was the hunters who approached the landowners for permission to hunt (rather than farmers asking hunts to help them with population control, as some would have us believe).

The events of recent months have shown that both sides of the hunting debate hold firm to their opinions. But it's the actions and voices of the pro-hunting lobby that have swayed me. I can't support their increasingly violent attacks, and I certainly can't agree with them when they say that the House of Commons overruling the House of Lords "is not democracy".

Was today the last time I'll see the pageant of the hunt? I hope not. There's nothing wrong with dressing up to go for a walk with your dogs, but I'm not convinced you need to savage animals in the process.

A couple of miles further west at Manor Farm Cliffe, men in tweed jackets were gathering with their guns. Their were glum faces suggested that they too felt that shooting would be next.

As a walker who'd equally dislike meeting a pack of angry dogs, or band of men with guns mid-walk I'm not sure I mind.

Comment

Fairtrade Town

Shock news: free local papers have some value! Last week I found out about Fairtrade for Woodbridge - a campaign raising awareness of Fairtrade locally.

For the first time ever, I've emailed my local councillor this week. Sad to say he wasn't exactly supportive of the campaign. His response was in parts ill-informed, and elsewhere demonstrated the deep divide between his take on the world and mine. (Still, at least he seemed to be sticking to the party line.)

Should Woodbridge become a Fairtrade Town? That's the goal of the campaign, and I've yet to make my mind up. But if it helps to correct the misinformation I came across earlier in the week then surely it's a good thing.

Personal

What a treat

The message read, "What a treat, not a car on the street."

It was written in chalk on the kerb near where we lived when I was sixteen. Woodfield Road was being resurfaced so anyone who valued their car had parked elsewhere.

My employer is digging up Angel Lane this week. Rather than provoking the usual anger born of inconvenience and frustration, the disturbed earth has fallen as a peace on our houses. My neighbours told me they overslept this morning as there was no passing traffic to wake them up.

So today I understood that message from 1987. And I'm inclined to get out my own stick of chalk, pass the message on.

Personal

Up to date

No messages on the answerphone. No unread email. No bills left to pay. No letters left to write.

At last.

Arts , Greenbelt

Album: How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb

Of course I've got the new U2 album. Of course it's good.

Actually, it's interesting how the album's grown on me in between listens. At various times during the day I've found riffs and phrases from the record buzzing in my head. On the next listen, they draw my attention to detail I'd not noticed before.

For me the most remarkable thing is that U2 have discovered what Over the Rhine knew with Till We Have Faces and Radiohead caught on to with Amnesiac. When the world copies your product for free, the best defence is to transform the product into something less easily duplicated. The deluxe edition of How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb comes with a DVD of extras, and a hard-back book of notes and sketches.

But back to the music. It's twelve tracks of rock stuffed full of direct and oblique references to faith, justice and art. Can a record be any more Greenbelt than this?

"Love and peace or else."

Greenbelt

A warm feeling

One of the benefits of the Year of Living Generously project is felt as soon as you participate in any of the suggested actions. It's a warm feeling of satisfaction. A sense that your little has added to a greater whole.

Tonight I finally - after perhaps two years of having it on my mental 'to do' list - switched my home electricity supply to EquiPower from EBICo.

I'm a little embarrassed it's taken so long for me to get my act together, but I get the feeling this is something the Generous project is doing a lot of. It's kicking us to do the things we meant to do long ago, almost as if we'd be letting each other down if we didn't.

Personal

Six hours

Good news: six hours after leaving Woodbridge, Em tells me she's home safely.

Bad news: I'd intended to do so much work in those hours (there's a lot of Greenbelt stuff to catch up on), and have no idea where the time went. Tomorrow maybe?

Personal

Castle in the cold

Emma's up this weekend, so it's time to get out and show off some more of the touristy parts of Suffolk. Today's destination: Framlingham Castle.

I was last here in the late 1970s. It's not changed much, but I have. (For a start, I no longer feel the need to close my eyes and stick my tongue out whenever someone takes a photograph.)

Tech

Know when to stop

Sure I was excited to hear Apple are opening a shop on Regent Street. And if I wasn't doing anything else this weekend I might have considered popping down. If the New York store is anything to go by, it'll be a great place to browse.

Some people are taking things a bit too far though. Like flying over from Texas just to be there. Apple products are good, but surely there are better things to be doing in mid-November than camping out on Regent Street for fifty hours.

Is it right to encourage this kind of behaviour? Maybe this is why Apple only formally announced the shop opening yesterday.

Arts

Film: Alfie

My mind's been elsewhere this week, and even the cinema hasn't been able to drag it back.

Alfie's good, but talks of a world I don't inhabit, a set of values I don't share and with a tired mind, a place I can't even take my imagination to. The score is punchy, the script playful. It should have been the perfect way to unwind, but tonight I just couldn't connect.

Arts

Film: Finding Neverland

Now here's a rare thing: Kate Winslet acting dull and lifeless. Finding Neverland didn't cut it for me. It's an emotional trip, and any film that touches on death always brings a tear to my throat, but in the end it fell quite a way short of being a great film.

Its constant talk of the power of imagination brought back memories of the weekend on the farm. Just a shame the film didn't hold my attention enough to stop my mind wandering off to continue the thoughts begun a week back.

Website

Synchronised

Hurray! If this post makes it onto angel lane .org without manual intervention I'll breathe a huge sigh of relief. Finally it would seem I have a work-around for the trouble I've had with my website that I first mentioned in early August.

The upshot of this will be and end to the 'clumping' of posts since the computer will take care of all the changes I make, rather than sit there waiting for me to hand-hold it through the process of sending updates to the server.

Greenbelt

Media '05

You know that bit of the festival I've been trying to get untangled from? The Media Programme? Well given the energy, ideas and openness at tonight's kick-off meeting for Media 2005, it looks as though I can certainly step back.

The first piece of publicity's barely out the door and already the ideas are flowing. This is a good thing.

Comment

Snarl

Why did the closure of one of England's busiest roads not hit the national news?

Mum's driving up to see me today. It should be a two hour journey. Five hours later she's still not here. I started making bread when she told me she was delayed. It's a race: slowly rising loaf versus equally slowly moving traffic.

My money's on the dough.

Comment

Long Bets

One of my favourite organisations of late is the Long Now Foundation. Their goal is to promote socially responsible long-term thinking. They do this through various projects - a clock designed to last 10,000 years; a record of all the world's languages; a long-time email service.

Today's idle surfing reminded me of another Long Now project - Long Bets. Would you be capable of making a prediction about the state of the world in five, ten, five hundred or ten thousand years time?

One bet already been won (by another Woodbridge resident). It'll be interesting to see how the others fare.

My bet would be: "By 2075 the mainland UK coastline will be a recognised National Trail." (Would you expect me to argue otherwise?)

What's yours?

Personal

Where did the youth go?

After four nights of restlessness, I finally slept really well last Friday night. For the first time that week I had a room to myself. I spent the week in a Youth Hostel.

"But, ..." My friend didn't finish her objection when I told her where I was staying. I'll complete it for her: "... you're not young." And she obviously hasn't ever stayed in a hostel.

The best things about Youth Hostelling are: the price, the location (this one was right on the beach) and the fact that you're not alone. The worst things are the rather basic facilities, the remoteness and the fact that you're not alone.

Six other people stayed in the hostel while I was there.

There was the young Dutch man working his way across Europe. He was rather too excited about the spinal cord he found on the path which left the hostel smelling of garlic.

Most of the week - and the cause of my lack of sleep - was 'snoring' JS. An elderly man from the Midlands who was convinced his phone was tapped. ("Yours has probably been too," he told me.) A fount of paranoia and tall tales. He abhors glottal stops, letting each 'g' ring fully.

Mid-week we were joined by two couples - a pair of women in their 60s from the Home Counties, and a couple from New Zealand who'd been working in another hostel. I sat there listening to their conversations, occasionally chipping in my tuppence. It was a tiring five nights, but a wonderful one.

Out of season the youth may be missing from the YHA, but staying there puts me in the company of people I'd never normally meet. It's a gamble who'll you'll end up living with, but in my book worth the risk every time.

Angels

Multicolour

Liz suggested I post some pics from the new camera. Here's one - a snapshot taken from my doorstep on Angel Lane this morning.

Fact is, I'm well aware a new camera won't help me make better photographs. But it will make taking photos more fun. (Guess what this weekend's main activity will be?)

Comment

Earn less, pay more

My employer's very excited about "salary sacrifice" schemes at the moment. I'm less convinced.

The headline offer is a service (e.g. Broadband) at substantial discount for employees. Good stuff, but the way the discount is obtained doesn't seem right to me. Essentially, if I join the scheme, I agree to taking a pay cut in exchange for the service.

Now put aside worries about 'pay cut' (e.g. effect on final-salary pensions, future reward prospects, etc) and consider this anomaly. Because the reduction is taken from employees gross pay, the net cost to employees depends on the rate of tax that would have been paid on the sacrificed pay. The more tax you pay, the more you save.

The higher your income, the less you pay for the service. The lower your wages, the more you pay.

I'm not the only one who thinks this is wrong, but what can be done about it? Is this just another example of our society's financial systems' built-in bias in favour of the well-off? Is it just a fact that I should accept, or should I avoid the scheme on principle?

EBICo provide a socially equitable tarriff that rights a similar wrong in the energy supply market. I'm one of their customers. Is there - or should there be - an equivalent positive action that can be taken to rebalance salary sacrifice schemes?

Tech

New toy

Don't expect much wisdom from me this week. My new toy has finally arrived.

(And am I glad I didn't go on that trip to Belfast? Missing out on two days' play would have been too much. It'll be hard enough keeping things together at work tomorrow - the temptation to slink away will be great.)

Personal

Back at work

Time to do those key things:

• Delete 847 spam messages
• Catch up on a week's lost Dilbert
• Check the industry press for any new jobs
• Realise I'm supposed to fly to Belfast tomorrow and no-one thought to tell me
• Introduce myself to the new person at the desk next to mine

Yes, I'm back, and already counting the days 'till Christmas.

Greenbelt

Wired, tired

I love helping with Greenbelt, but long meetings like this weekend's leave me shattered.

Last night we talked long about arts, theology and imagination; their origins, their development and their place. Fantastic stuff to be chewing on, but it's tough going for me at times.

I realised too how much I've changed these past few years. How now, if you were to ask me I'd tell you of the vitality of art: how central it seems to be to the human experience, while previously I thought of it as an add-on.

Dropping in on Ruth and family on the way home seemed like a good idea, but I was too distracted mentally to make it a good visit. I must go back soon. But first I must sleep.

Personal

Leaving Port Eynon

I'm on the move again this morning. These past five nights I've been staying in an old lifeboat house. Last night was a great conclusion: on bonfire night I was sitting on the slipway with a mug of tea watching fireworks light up the bay.

But this morning: back on the road. Next stop: the Cotswolds.

Walks

Swansea Bike Path

Distance: 5.52 miles
Ascent: 79 metres
Duration: 1 hour 30 minutes

Completing the circuit

One last day in Gower.

I didn't want to start a new stretch of the coast today, so took the opportunity to turn four days' coastwalking into a forty-five mile circuit. I followed the Swansea Bike Path from Blackpill (which I passed on yesterday's walk) to Gowerton (where I started Monday's).

The path runs along a disused railway line through a belt of woodland across the neck of the peninsula. It's an easy route (after all railways tend not to go for steep hills), but the seclusion and lack of other walkers made me feel uneasy. Still, it was a good opportunity to see the autumn colours.

Definitely one for cyclists rather than walkers. For that reason, the accompanying picture is my best attempt at providing a cyclists'-eye view of the track.

Coastwalk

Pennard Cliffs → Swansea

Distance: 13.1 miles
Ascent: 383 metres
Duration: 4 hours 30 minutes

Mission accomplished!
« Port-Eynon | Port Talbot »

I started this week with a clear goal: to walk round the Gower Peninsula, as far as Swansea. Monday was the northern coast; Tuesday was the southern. Yesterday I walked the western coast, leaving only the eastern for today.

This walk is best described in two halves: a set of generally good footpaths round the headlands and coves towards The Mumbles, then a long march along the prom that follows the curve of Swansea Bay.

Swansea's beach was working hard today - but for locals rather than tourists. As I stopped for lunch towards its north end a game of five-a-side was being played out by local office workers while drones from a lone piper further down the beach drifted in on the wind.

The day brought a new sight with it. Rising across the water to the south, the North Devon cliffs remind me there's plenty of walking yet to do. As has become my tradition, I stopped my walk half-way across a bridge. This time, a footbridge across Afon Tawe.

Tentatively I made a plan. I'll be back next year - probably in August - to see if I can make it to a far larger bridge that will take me out of this country before the year ends, well on my way to Devon.

Coastwalk

Landimore → Port-Eynon

Distance: 15.7 miles
Ascent: 559 metres
Duration: 5 hours 32 minutes

Outstanding
« Gowerton | Pennard Cliffs »

Every other sign on the Gower reminds you that it was the UK's first designated Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. Although I'd seen beautiful nature the past two days, I'd seen nothing you'd class as outstanding. Today the reason became clear: there's just one reason why Gower is an AONB: Rhossili Bay.

The beach of fine sand is half a kilometre deep and five kilometres wide. It was a stunning centrepiece for today's walk and the clouds parted so to let the late autumn sun sparkle on the wet sand. It was a welcome relief after the punishing marsh and confusing dunes near the start.

I was pushed to complete this walk before sunset, and could have happily lingered. I'd have liked to explore Worm's Head and Culver Hole. This is definitely a walk I'll do again, but I'll start at Llangennith at the far end of Rhossili beach.

Coastwalk

Port-Eynon → Pennard Cliffs

Distance: 10.2 miles
Ascent: 459 metres
Duration: 3 hours 38 minutes

Two bays
« Landimore | Swansea »

By ten-thirty I thought I today's walk was near enough over. The walk consisted of two bays and the headland separating them. So on reaching the far side of the headland, I started to wonder whether I'd in fact be able to meet the early bus - the one I'd been certain to miss. In the end, I just about caught the next one - two hours later.

This is all to say: there are perfect bays that describe a wide arc of smooth, firm sand; then there are bays of dunes and marshland. Port-Eynon Bay fits the former profile while Oxwich Bay is a classic example of the latter.

That said, the first half of the walk - from Port-Eynon through Horton, then round Oxwich Point to Oxwich - was an absolute gem. I was the only one enjoying the firm, grassy headland but above gully circled the towering cliffs.

As I finished in Pennard, the mist turned into rain. Half an hour later I'd found the bus-stop for my trip back to Port-Eynon, and took shelter in the adjacent tea-shop. On a day like today you don't get much better than a hot bacon baguette for a late lunch. If you're ever on the Gower, I now know just the place.

Coastwalk

Gowerton → Landimore

Distance: 9.76 miles
Ascent: 129 metres
Duration: 3 hours 8 minutes

Clever animals
« Burry Port | Port-Eynon »

Driving from Aberystwyth to Gower this morning I realised why Wales is the land of magical and mystical animals. A dog leapt out off the road and onto the verge to let my car pass; four wild horses stood by another roadside looking left, then right at a pedestrian crossing, waiting for a gap in the traffic.

Am I the only one who worries sheep should be added to this list of intelligent animals?

Sure, they look cute and timid when you walk towards them. They huddle together quaking, hoping you don't venture a foot further in their direction. But come on. Have you never stood in a field of sheep and just wondered? If those guys just acted together you'd be toast.

The fact that I finished today's walk alive suggests that sheep haven't yet wised up to my fears, but it can only be a matter of time.