Roland Ladley's Blog, page 25

I wouldn’t wish Covid-19 on anyone

I wish Donald Trump a full and fast recovery. I do. In April I was on the phone to my brother every day – multiple times a day towards the end – and it’s not a disease I would wish on anyone. And I think it’s clear now that he has the virus. To begin with, noting that his administration has the capacity to build their own conspiracies (and lie like hell) I was all for the idea he didn’t have the disease and was faking it so that he might show how easy it is cope with it … and/or he would survive and emerge macho-ly triumphant.

I think he will survive. We know a lot more about the disease now and he has the best medical care in the world. It’s a shame that thousands of Americans do not have the same care (‘come back when you need a ventilator …’ is a cry I’ve read often). And it’s also an interesting fact that the Walter Reed Military Hospital, where Trump is, is a social care hospital (ie, not private). Why? His Donaldness failed to pay any federal taxes for ten of the past 15 years … and just $750 last year. He’s certainly getting his money’s worth.

My problem is that it is almost certainly true that he knew he had the virus and was symptomatic on Wednesday – he may even have known on Tuesday, the day of the debate. He turned up late for that show; too late for a test. Between then and his announcement on Friday he’s visited a number of places, met countless people … throughout all of which he was contagious, and he didn’t inform anyone. In short, he knowingly spread the disease. A good number of people have/will get ill because of him (the list is already growing). Some may die. I know this sounds melodramatic, but it’s true. He is an awful, awful man. But I do hope he recovers. And loses the election in a landslide.

Finally on the Trump issue, and maybe with some karma, last Saturday the White House threw an event to celebrate the Republican selection for the replacement of Justice Ginsburg, a Democrat – whose dying wish to her niece was that she was not replaced in the Supreme Court until the next President is chosen. There’s huge history here: during the final year of Obama’s presidency the Senate repeatedly refused Obama’s pick … because it was the final year of the Presidency. Anyhow, with 40 days until the election, and with Ginsburg still unburied, the Trump administration chose their candidate … and last Saturday, with no social distancing and no masks, they held a celebratory party. Many among the guests, including His Orangeness, now have the disease: Ginsburg’s curse? Probably not.

[image error]had a lovely time at Jen and James’

Anyway, we’re fine. C’s dashing around getting us ready for Korea. We’ve read an article on our own 14-day government quarantine … it does seem extreme. But it will be something to tell our grandchildren. I will, of course, keep you posted [cost could be as much as £2200 – yikes.]

[image error]gratuitous gorgeous Cassie photo

I’ve done some admin stuff for Doris, and there is still more to do. I’m lining up remote work, even when I’m in Korea, which is nice. And we had a lovely evening with Peter and Karen on Friday, and just as fun time with Jen and James yesterday. Oh, and we binge-watched Us, on the BBC. It’s fabulous – just four hours long. It’s a bitter-sweet tale of an older couple looking to split up … taking the 17-year old son on a European tour. The acting is fab, you’ll laugh and cry and the vistas a lovely reminder of pre-covid days.

Anyhow, until mid-week!

[The car is booked in for an MoT on Wednesday … if she fails badly we might be buying a replacement before the weekend. We’ll see.]

We’re back

[image error]our final walk away. Face to face with a small deer. It was much closer than appears here.

We are back. We did Phil and Denise (thank you), Mum and Mary. It was a quick whizz round, but really worth it. From Mary’s we went via C’s mum’s grave in Shrivenham and met her sister, where we had a socially distanced sausage sandwich in the rain. And … we then eventually got home.

Both of us agreed that we had a really good time, particularly on the southern bit of the east coast of Yorkshire where there were fewer people and the beaches were fab. We also both agreed that we already miss being is Doris. It’s the same old arguments: it’s uncomplicated; we don’t have many things (possessions) to worry about; we are forced outside; and we spend more time together. And Doris was perfect. I think she’s pretty sorted and everything we’ve done to make her even easier to live in stood up well to everyday life. Inevitably there are always a few things to sort and I have a list! (And I started on the list this morning, in her boot.)

The next time we’re likely to be away in her will be the Spring. Hopefully by then the continent will be ready for us. Having said that, C did mention going away in her for New Year. It’s a thought.

[image error]St Osthy’s beachfront. We popped her for a run before we went and saw mum.

It’s a bit of a mad rush now. I have this virtual away day to sort for the MOD team for next Thursday. I’m waiting for the second MOD team to be in touch for some team leader mentoring. And my long term school has just asked if I can do some more coaching and maybe run a middle management course for them. The second part of that will have to wait for next year. I’m not doing anything face-to-face until confidence returns, and courses like that are best done collectively. However, I’ve just set up a spreadsheet which allows the school’s staff to book time remotely with me. That’ll be fun.

And, in amongst this, we have to prepare for S Korea. And I’m still writing (44k words … phew). And we have to get the car MoTd. It’s not due until we get back. But it’s due as soon as we get back and the law says we should only be driving it to get an MoT … not from Mary’s to home and then, the next day, from home to the garage. It would probably be ok, but if we have an accident we’re not insured and that’s not a good place to be.

So it’s all hands on pump. We’ve got to pop up and see Jen and James this weekend. We’ve been invited out to a socially distant supper tomorrow night and we should be having pals into our back garden next Thursday.

And I’m still determined to write … so, if you don’t mind I’m popping over to the pump, hands ready.

We both hope you are all keeping safe. ‘Til the weekend …

[image error]a refection on mum’s wall – have a guess?

Dry as a bone …

If you’ve been watching the weather you might have noticed a sort of localised storm on the mid-east coast of the country. Yes, that’s where we are. Since Thursday night we’ve had winds gusting to 60 mph and yesterday the rain fell horizontally to the extent we didn’t venture out, other than I popped out to keep covering the bikes up. Bearing in mind we’re close to heading home, the weather’s not been an issue. Other than a strong breeze for most of the time on the cliff edge, we have been blessed with the presence of Mrs Sun throughout the past 4 weeks. Even on Thursday, our second day here, we were able to dodge the showers and make it to the coast just north of Mablethorpe. Wow, what a coast. Sand dunes and the longest, flattest beach you could imagine. We cycled there, picniced in the dunes and cycled back again. Fab.

[image error]what on flat earth?

For the record, what I have been able to test is waterproofing of Doris’s boot. The worst side – the one where I had to take out big chunks of wood, seal, fill and cover – is as dry as a bone after yesterday’s real thrashing. In the end all I did to fix the water ingress was to sikaflex the door surrounds and anywhere else it looked like water might have a chance. Removing the damaged wood was a day’s work, but sealing took me half an hour. I’ve no idea why they didn’t do that in the first place.

We’re fine. Doris has been perfect. The electrics I sorted are holding up well. Nothing has tripped and, as a result, there’s been no unnecessary draw on the batteries. Internet has been more of a problem for me here, with Virgin not bothering to check to see if they could provide folk with 4G in this part of the country. C, on the other hand, has great coverage. I’m not sure how that works.

And book 7 is coming along. I’m into Chapter 7 (out of 20), close to 40,000 words. I’m still no clearer on what’s happening, other than there’s a lot of it. But, if history repeats itself, I should be able to find a plausible explanation as to why I come to glorious conclusion at around 120,000 words. The other good news is that Sorrel, my narrator who had a baby in April, is now back on task. We hope to get Unsuspecting Hero out there as an audiobook before Christmas.

[image error]wetter than it looks …

Talking of work, the second MOD team has just secured the budget for me to work with them from next month. Now we’re all being encouraged to work from home again, I’m guessing my ‘away-day’ with the other MOD team the week after next will be remote. That’s going to be a challenge. And I’m back mentoring a headteacher (remotely) in Wiltshire. It’s all interesting stuff, and most of it brings in very little money, but it keeps me on my toes.

We’re off to see ex-army pals, Phil and Denise tomorrow – socially distant. And then to mum’s and back home via Mary’s. I have to say that I am getting more and more nervous about meeting people. I think this might be it insofar as meeting up with folk go. Everyone we meet has had contact with other people – some multiple meets. And there is only so much risk we’re prepared to take. Neither of us wants the disease. And neither of us want to take it to Seoul. So … I think we’re all going to have to be a whole lot more careful.

Along those lines … stay safe, everyone.    

We’re fine …

You’ll be pleased we’ve moved from the cliff edge. That’s not a euphenism for the fact we’ve decided to emigrate and leave you all before we have to get our passports out to cross the border into Kent. No, I mean literally. We now in northern Lincolnshire among some fishing lakes, but a short cycle to the seaside town of Mablethorpe – which, counter to any preconception – is lovely. 

[image error]tis lovely

We stayed for two weeks at John and Jenny’s and had a lovely time, on the east coast of Yorkshire. Sure, we could have done without the wind, but at 50 feet up you have the accept some buffering. 

We’re both fine. This time next week we should be home and just a short spell before we catch the plane to Seoul. The government’s latest restrictions look unlikely to prevent us from getting to Heathrow. And everything in Korea is reasonably calm. So, we should just make it. And, thank goodness for that. It’s going to be a long six months for all of us, I feel, and we’re getting away for 6 weeks. And I do sense that we are not there yet with the severity of the restrictions. His Borisness didn’t go for ‘zero-covid’ (there was no way he could, after he locked us down two weeks late), so we’re going to have to live (and, I’m sorry to say for some, die) with it. 

I don’t think that’s going to change much for us. We will continue to be sensible, see who we need and keep in our own little bubble. We’re lucky in that regard – because we can get by with just each other for company, and WhatsApp for catching up with our kids, wherever they are. For many others, being forced to be alone is incredibly hurtful, and I feel for those people. Sorry if you are one of those people.

I am racing away with book seven. I’m currently about 27,000 words in and should be close to 50,000 by the time we get on the plane. In an ideal world I’ll be finished early, that is by the time we get on the plane to come home. That would give me a chance to get Of Black Bulls and White Horses out there before Christmas. I still have no grip on the plot, although there is, as always, a lot happening. I am loving it … which is great, save the fact that books sales have fallen of the cliff (not the same cliff we stayed on for two weeks). I don’t know how that works. There is literally nothing happening (I think I’ve sold two books in the last two weeks). I might run a give away this weekend and see if I can get things going.

Anyhow. That’s it from me. I hope you are all well … oh, and hello to Jonathan Peace. He’s an old friend from Wells and I thought I had lost touch with him. But he still reads the blog and got in touch yesterday. The good news is he now lives in France – somewhere for Doris to rest on the way down to the Med. Brill.

Stay safe everywhere.  

Sorry

I’d like to make an apology. Yesterday I retweeted a short, doctored video of Nigel Farage. He was doing his ‘dehumanising migrants crossing the Channel’ and the clip was dubbed satirically. To all intents and purposes, in the dubbed clip Farage was making himself out to be a racist. It was sharp, deep and funny. My apology is because I commented on my retweet: Brexit in a nutshell.

A number of my friends voted for Brexit … and I guess they may read this. If that’s the case then, sorry. You are not racist and any implication is regretted. Sorry, again.

On and after the vote me and my pals had a number of discussions. My Brexit friends were all about the poor management of the EU, the financial benefit of leaving the EU and … taking back control. I guess there was something in there about overcrowding and over-use of our services, such as the NHS. Their arguments were plausible. And I heard them all.

But I couldn’t budge. I was all the coined, ‘Project Fear’, and stability in Europe as part of a really together multi-national block, and that we should fix the system from within, and the ability of my kids and their kids to travel, live and work in Europe, and that we were living somewhere which was very multinational/multicultural and it worked fine [I often recounted that our little cul-de-sac in north Bristol has Iranians, multiple Eastern Europeans, a Portuguese lady and a black immigrant family at the end of the road. The only household I have little time for would identify themselves as White English.].

So there was some ‘immigration’ issues in our arguments, but it was about overcrowding more than the slow chip away at our the UK’s residual ethnicity.

So why did I retweet the video and make the comment? And why don’t I take it down?

Good question. I almost did. But I haven’t and I won’t.

I guess it’s because Farage’s Brexit is racist. And that, whilst my educated and kind friends are right to have their own views, anyone who stands shoulder to shoulder with Farage – they don’t but I reckon a large swathe of the original Brexit cohort are shoulder to shoulder with him – then they need to be called out for what they are: racists. Brexit was, for the majority, about immigrants. It was.

And that, for me, is such a heart-wrenching position. Although Johnson’s government is doing its best to undermine our way of life and our economy (I would argue), we have so much going for us in comparison to almost everyone else. Our NHS and welfare system is at the top of the pile and whilst we could do better, that safety net is strong and large. We are not at war, nor are we likely to be. There are no drones flying overhead – there is no secret police. Our climate, which I know is changing, is temperate. We have roads and shops and shelves full of stuff. And coffee shops and cinemas. We have a good, honest police force and a decent, stable army, not intent on a coup. Our schools are doing their best and, and I know this to be so, our teachers want the best from the children they teach. We are lucky …

… and we’re not trying to cross the busiest stretch of water in the world in a shitty little dinghy, having pawned everything we own and left everything, including our family, behind, because just over the water that wonderful, inclusive country looks like Nirvana.

We were once. Not long ago. I really believe that. Brexit has got close to destroying much of it in four years. It has lit our small-minded, nationalistic fervour and turned us into shadows of ourselves. Brexit has and will continue to make us poorer, both financially and in international standing, than Project Fear ever got close to suggesting.

And it is going to take a generation of nation builders to put it right. I really hope they are up for it.

Keep safe everyone.

[For the record, four more days on the cliff edge, writing, running, walking and cycling. All is good …]

Still here

No politics. I promise. Well, not from this side of the Pond. It’s worth mentioning that in a town hall yesterday, His Orangeness said the virus will just go away (1344 deaths in the US yesterday), the vaccine will be here in days and it’s Joe Biden’s fault that there isn’t a national mask policy. Oh, and that the US is heading for ‘herd mentality’. He lies. And he doesn’t do English. If there is four more years of Trump, and that is possible, then I think we’re seriously considering leaving the country and going somewhere stable. A Tory/GOP, Trump/Johnson canvas is not one I want to spend, what should be the better years of my life, in the thick of. No.

Apart from that.

[image error]Mmmm

We’re fine. We had our 35th wedding anniversary on Monday. Thirty-five years. That’s like a lifetime. It has, as with any long term relationship, had its highs and lows, but it is absolutely true to say that we are closer now than we ever have been. It is naturally symbiotic; foot and slipper (I leave you to decide which is which). And I know I’ve said it before, but the Bohemian lifestyle I led the charge on in 2014, wouldn’t be most partner’s first choice. But it continues to work really well. Could any of you imagine spending nearly 5 years in a small, white tin box on wheels with me? No, I didn’t think so.

So thanks Claire. For everything. And I hope you enjoyed the white-bap, bacon-and-egg roll for our anniversary lunch. It’s the thought that counts.

[image error]



[image error]anniversary lunch …

We’re still on our cliff top and look like staying here until at least next Monday. That will have been two weeks. As a reminder, there are no facilities here and no electricity. So we really are living off the grid. But Doris continues to be fab. We are a 15 minute cycle ride into Hornsea (for breakfast bap and Tesco) and, after a shortish shimmy down the cliff edge, we have a huge expanse of beach where we can run and walk to our heart’s content. The bike’s are getting a pounding and, for the first time with the new batteries, I have managed to recharge them using the solar/Li-Ion system. Perfect. A lady on the site told us of a disused railway line which takes you straight into Hull … about 25 miles. We’ll give that a go in the next couple of days.

Mrs Sun is with us. Sure, I don’t think you could pick a windier place, unless you chose a Scottish island, but we have been v lucky with the weather. And it’s set fair for the next week or so.

Finally, I’m 20/120k words into book 7. That’s going well. I do feel with the two-week quarantine coming up in Seoul I will finish this book quicker than usual, but I might well get distracted.

And I have an interview for another job this lunchtime. No, not a full time one. I’m talking to an MoD team about how I might be able to help them with ‘compassionate leadership’. It may well be I’m not a fit, and that would be fine. But, it could mean a full remote team 360, or just some 121s with a few of the team. Or something in between. We’ll see.

Anyhow, stay safe.

Another four years?

Covid cases are rising alarmingly and His Borisness has put a bill to parliament which will enable this government to opt out of bits of the Withdrawal Agreement, specifically trade between the mainland and Northern Ireland, in the event of a no deal.

[image error]just fab

I think the latter is a big thing. A huge thing. And, whether you want me to, or not, I’ll tell you why. BJ voted against May’s deal which didn’t have a trade border in the Irish Sea (it had a backstop instead – she could see a border as unacceptable). BJ forced May out. He forged a new deal with the EU which was May’s deal, but without the backstop … but with a border in the Irish Sea. He insisted his party accepted the deal (and those who didn’t were forced from the party). He trumpeted this as ‘Boris’s Oven Ready Deal’. He took it to the electorate and won a handsome majority. He then signed the deal, having restricted parliament’s ability to scrutinise it to just three days. Three days. Because, apparently, much of the deal had been a round for a while and everyone had had chance to read it. What was clear, was that unless there was a free trade agreement, there would be a trade border between the UK mainland and the island of Ireland. This was to secure the Good Friday Agreement, which needed the border to remain open.

Now BJ’s telling us that, if there is no deal the thought of a border in the sea is wrong … and that it is being forced upon us. So his new bill allows the government to abandon that part of the WA – which BJ signed in good faith – an agreement, if you remember, which was ‘oven-ready’. That breaks international law. And that’s not a subjective judgement. That’s a cabinet minister telling us that that’s the case and, as a result of this, the senior judiciary civil servant has resigned. And a whole load of senior people, including many Tories (John Major), have come out against it.

There is no way I can get my head around the audacity of this – the outright hypocrisy. That those very sensible Tories who were forced out of the party, were pushed out for the same reason that BJ is now pushing back against the EU. It’s madness … and that’s leaving out our international standing. We, the Brits, who for centuries have been the upholders of good governance, would now break an international agreement. It beggars belief.

Enough. Although, it is my country too, and I’m not sure I can cope with another four years of this.

[image error]there are some big houses around here

We’re still on the edge of a cliff (that is, C and I, not the country, which will soon plummet off one). And still happy. The weather continues to be kind, which has allowed us to run, walk and cycle. I’m tapping away on my keyboard and loving the new story. And we’re looking hard at our plans for going to Seoul to be grandparents. In a sea of misery, that’s something to look forward to.

It’s run day today. And another 1,000 words.

Stay safe, everyone.

The unfriendly club

A post mostly about cost, brought on by an interesting stop at Bridlington Caravan and Motorhome Club site last Sunday.

[image error]

nobody here but us chickens …

First, a reminder about full timing. We lived in a motorhome (no fixed abode) for four and a half years. During this time we lived on a budget (less fixed costs of insurance, MoT, etc, which came to around £2k a year) of £50 a day, which included diesel. We managed that throughout and C even saved enough money for us to splash out on trips to see friends in the US, a week in Istanbul and a week in Turkey. If we were to do the same now, we would certainly manage and, with our financial situation improved, we would do much better this time round in terms of saving. Just consider the fixed costs of living in a house, leaving aside rent and a mortgage: council tax, services, broadband etc … that’s a saving of probably in the region of £3k a year which, when travelling, is soaked up in campsites.

But we’re not there. Indeed, C made it very clear to me a couple of days ago that she was no longer a ‘fulltiming sort of girl’. That doesn’t mean we won’t disappear for months at a time (and Doris is proving to be exceptional ATM), but we will always have a base.

So, what about now? Leaving aside the continent and Scotland where you can, pretty much, park up over night wherever you like – and France, Italy, Spain, Germany and Portugal have thousands of inexpensive and often free ‘aires’, where motorhomes are encouraged – our target price is £12. This no longer includes the need for electricity as our Li-Ion and solar panel set up means we can operate without the need for hook up indefinitely. If you’d asked me five years ago I would have said £12 was a luxury … and £10 was our ceiling. But inflation, etc, even influences pitch prices. We are currently on a no-frills site south of Hornsea. Right by the cliff edge. It is beautiful. There’s fresh water, black waste dump and a rubbish bin. Cost? £12.50 a night. So, on budget. You can still get pitches for £5 with the listed and certified sites of the CC&C and CAMC, but they are few and far between.

£12 it is, then. 

[image error]Bridlington CAMC site. Busy and soulless.

Except … on Sunday night we met up with an old nurse friend of C’s (and her husband), Pam and Steve. They’re relatively new to motorhoming and, quite rightly, enjoy the facilties that most proper campsites offer, such as showers etc. The Bridlington site was £30 a night. It was soulless, packed, had no view and was run by National Socialists. (Pam and Steve agreed … read on.) 

We arrived after them and were met at the entrance by a brusque lady and more signs than you would see at a nuclear power station. You have to pitch in a certain way … out by a metre and you’ll be asked to re-pitch. There are signs for obvious things … and signs for unnecessary things. With covid-19 there are, probably rightly, more signs, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that there are a lot of signs. [BTW, the CAMC is badged as ‘The Friendly Club’, but colloquially known as the unfriendly club. I reckon it’s all the signs.] 

Anyhow. Pan and Steve had left their pitch to sight see and returned to find that someone was just about to take their slot (there are 175 pitches – most were taken). Steve showed the man his pitch tag and the camper packed up in a huff and drove off. Pam then told us that she had been told off by one of the crew for washing up when the washrooms were closed. Pam admitted that she had made a mistake, apologised (twice), but the woman said ‘I don’t want your apology, I want you to stay out of the facilities when they’re being cleaned’. Pam wasn’t concerned that she had been put right, it was just the manner in which that happened that upset her.

Anyhow, later when we were all sat under our awning, a man with a high viz vest and a walkie talkie came across and asked to speak to Steve. Steve obliged. Like a naughty schoolboy he was taken out of earshot and told, in no uncertain terms, that he should have left a marker n the pitch. Again, I don’t think any of us disagree that it would have been professional to remind Steve that ‘it’s best if you …’, but that wasn’t the case. Someone had reported him, the warden (that’s their titles) had made a decision and he had sought Steve out and told him off. A high viz vest. At £30 a night, on a packed, soulless campsite with no views.

It’s not always about the money …

[image error]lovely coastline

Anyhow, that’s it. We’re OK. A bit flat, even though we are living the life of Riley. I have confirmed work on return and am due to have a conversation with a second MoD team next week. And I’m 7.5/120k into book 7 which is (mostly) a joy. And Mrs Sun is out. And we have chickens wandering around eating our muesli. It is, on the face of it, all good.

Keep safe. 

And … rest.

We’re day five into a six-day sit at Elm Tree Campsite, as far from popular culture as you can get in England without visiting a National Trust property. We are in the back of the back of beyond, although Steven, Bex’s husband, tells us that Easington, just down the coast, was the very first North Sea gas terminal. As a geography teacher he tells his students about it every year. So maybe we’re not that far from stuff.

[image error]the Humber – flat, muddy, industrial and perfect

Typically we’ve filled the days. It’s either been a long cycle ride, a good walk or a run … and sometimes a combination of two. The weather has been OK. Mrs Sun is hardly omnipresent, and the temperature has not gone out of its way to surprise 20 degrees, but it hasn’t stopped us doing what we do. I have also started book 7. After three days, I’m 4,000 words in, so easily beating the 1,000-words-a-day target. I just know that I’ll get on with it, even if I have to pen 500 words late at night (I’m not so good first thing, mind).

[image error]stupidly I didn’t take a photo, but just off from this image are three seals, being all fat and lazy

I have absolutely no idea where this one is going. As always I try to surprise myself every chapter so that, if nothing else, those who get round to reading the book will be just as surprised. That’s the ambition.

The other main news is that we’ve got travel insurance and have booked our flights for South Korea. In the end, after a 40-minute telephone call, I got our bank’s world-wide insurance to cover us for 6 weeks (we’re currently insured for a maximum of 31 days). At £81 it was twice the cost of our 6 weeks extension last year when we travelled all around SE Asia, but I’ll put that down to covid-19. In the end, with regard to flights, we went for Korea Air, because they have a reputation for, one, actually flying and not cancelling, two, being very safe when it comes to covid-19, and, three, we don’t stop so there’s less chance of further contamination. At £1000 each (£400 more than our flights last year), the cost is what it is.

The good news is that we maybe able to quarantine with Bex and Steven (that is, good for us. For them …?). We need to prove we’re related (birth certificates etc), and the school needs to be happy, but if that’s the case life should be a lot easier … and about £2000 cheaper. We may not know until we get there, but at least it may be an option.

Anyhow, we’re sorted. Phew.

Tomorrow we’re off to Bridlington to meet up with old Army pals for C’s. They’re new to motorhoming and have a very posh panel van. It will be good to see them. And then we’re staying on the coast for lots more of not a great deal. Looking forward to that …

Keep safe the lot of you. And, if you’re a Brit, remember that Johnson and Cummings have unequivocally shown that they only have one ambition: to own the Libs; sod running the country. The appointment of Tony Abbott (ex-Oz PM) to the board of trade is just that. And, if you’re one of my American readers, I’m ex-military and have lost friends and colleagues on operations. Your current president thinks those who have fallen are losers. He does. He said that of John McCain openly. It shouldn’t surprise you that he feels the same way about all those who died or who are injured on operations. Vote him out in November. It’s that simple.

Eat out to help out …

I’m a bit bored with my bank blaming covid-19 for not having enough staff available to talk to me without a wait time of over 20 minutes (40 minutes by the end). We pay HSBC to be a little bit special and normally speak to an adviser in under a minute. Not now. I’m not sure that 6 months in we should be being pushed from pillar to post when we’re trying to spend more money with them (by increasing our travel insurance cover for a 6 week stay in South Korea). Moan over. 

[image error]it’s lovely here …

Leaving aside my frustration with the bank, we have slipped down a couple of gears. We cycled a good distance on Monday up and down the coast. Yesterday (after a run) we cycled all the way from our lovely little campsite to Spurn Head, which is the sand spit north of the Humber which curls as it embraces Lincolnshire. Having pushed the bikes some of the way, we had lunch on the sands – it could have been the Med. It is flat here but interesting, the sea taking a 4 metre chomp at the sand and clay coastline every year. Some farms and houses look unlikely to survive the next storm. It’s desolate, beautiful and we have been blessed with the appearance of Mrs Sun who has been with us most of the time. Today we cycled into Withernsea, a seaside town perilously close to losing its battle with the North Sea. The highlight was a bacon sandwich at a beachside cafe, our first ‘eat out’ since March. Hopefully we didn’t get a mouthful of virus.

[image error]at the end of a long cycle

We like it here so much we’ve decided to stay for an extra couple of nights. At £14, which includes electric and distant WiFi, it’s at the top of our budget. But it’s quiet and clean and it means we can run tomorrow without worrying about having to move on.

[image error]losing the battle with the North Sea

C has continued to knit for NATO (KFN) and I have started – yes, started – book seven in the Sam Green series. It was an interesting beginning. I know exactly how the scene goes and I started to write with my usual (misplaced) self confidence and then hit a wall of self doubt. Is this good enough? Does that make sense? Is this a match to what I have written before? I have never felt this way, and I’m already seven books for the better. I hope it starts to flow soon – ambition is 1,000 words a day for 120 days, which will take me to a finished book on Christmas Day. It’s worked every time for the last 5 books. So I hope I can manage this time.

[image error]eat out to help out with no assistance from Rishi

And, on our bike ride yesterday, I got a call from the MoD boss I’ve been working for since last November. She wants me to run an away day for her senior team at the beginning of October –  which works well for me. I just need to plan it now. But it’s nice to feel that I’m still of use to her/them.

I hope you’ll all ok. If you have kids, I’m guessing they’re back at school. I’m crossing my fingers for you. As an ex-teacher, I really worry for anyone involved with education at the mo. I hope the government manage to keep a lid on the infection rate and schools, kids and parents can grow their confidence here. I know the current leaders continue to send mixed messages but, hopefully, a more devolved approach to decision making will allow local authorities and schools to demonstrate some flexibility. Hopefully.

Keep safe …