Jane Wenham-Jones's Blog, page 8

Plain Jane 150116: Wine, sugar and health improvements

FAR be it from me to agree with Nigel Farage (unless he’s talking about Manston airport) but I can’t help feeling a certain sympathy with the self-styled “boozer not an alcoholic” who has spoken out against what he calls “over the top” Government advice about drinking.

I shall not be following his suggestions for a middle-of-the-day mass protest against the new guidelines (now none of us must drink more than 14 units a week), however, as I rarely imbibe at lunchtimes, can’t over-concern myself with what the chaps are allowed to knock back (female limits remain unchanged) and think actually it is a tad irresponsible for a politician to actively encourage the population to swig alcohol. Still I cannot help but share his irritation with “nannying”.

There is no doubt there is a problem with binge drinking in the UK (even though our recommended limits are set lower than in many other countries) – as any member of the police force or NHS worker will confirm – but I don’t believe banging the table about units is the answer. Perhaps taking the French approach, whereby alcohol in moderation with which to enjoy food is part of a civilised life, would stop many a teenager passing out cold on their 18th birthdays.

Or a spot of awareness training in schools about the risks of alcohol poisoning to health and personal safety. But it would probably be wasted. Young people, of course, know much better about everything than old fogeys like me and it’s not until you are of a certain age that you realise that stumbling, slurring, shouting one’s mouth off in the town centre and then throwing up in the gutter is not a good look. Regular readers will know that I like a glass of wine as much as the next woman but it has never landed me in A & E and I would implode with shame if I came close. I abhor “drinking games”, think knocking back shots is for idiots and can honestly say that much as I enjoy the feeling of a nice glass of fizz skipping its way round my veins I have never, in my entire life, gone out for the evening with the sole purpose of getting hammered (although it has occasionally been an occupational hazard). I know, however, that if I delivered this speech to my son and his friends they would listen politely and put my staid ways down to my great age. Something needs to be done about the nation’s long-term wellbeing and clogging up of the NHS but if the Government really wants to improve things I would suggest there are more pressing trees to bark up. Maybe yes, drinking alcohol does account for 15 extra cases of breast, liver, mouth and throat cancers (strangely it appears to offer some protection against cancer of the kidneys or thyroid) per 1,000 women, as cited in a recent study, but compared to the cancer risks of smoking and obesity these figures are still relatively low. Smoking accounts for around one third of all diagnosed cancers with diet-related factors thought to explain a further third, against which alcohol is currently blamed for approximately 5 per cent of cases. Which would seem to suggest that a tax on sugar, moves to discourage supersize portions and reminding the nation that suet pastry and chips is just as bad for you as too much gin, might be the way forward.

Or one could simply reflect that people have many reasons for finally deciding to take themselves in hand: for giving up the fags, losing weight or realising that being drunk most days tends to mess up one’s life rather than improve it. If you canvassed a thousand people on why they took life-changing steps to improve their health, I’d wager that discomfort, embarrassment, illness or a failed relationship might all feature highly as the salient wake-up call. And not many would reply: “Because the Government told me to.” Or, come to that, Nigel didn’t…

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Read the original post at: http://www.thanetgazette.co.uk/Plain-Jane-Wine-sugar-health-improvements/story-28528835-detail/story.html#ixzz3xM05vMp1

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Filed under: articles, Isle of Thanet Gazette, non-fiction, Plain Jane, writing Tagged: isle of thanet, Isle of Thanet Gazette, Mansion airport, NHS, Nigel Farage, Plain Jane, The Isle of Thanet, The Isle of Thanet Gazette

Plain Jane 010116: And so 2015 is over

So 2015 is nearly over and I am struck by the people around me expressing gratitude. An “annus horribilis” as one beleaguered friend put it, in an echo of our own dear Queen in 1992, a year in which Windsor Castle caught fire and several of her family were splashed across the tabloids in a storm of marriage break-ups, cringey phone recordings and toe-sucking.

In Thanet, I would say, we have much to be thankful for – not least our distance above sea level – and I would regard the previous twelve months locally, as not a blanket disaster but more of a “mixed bag.”

On the Lows front, Manston did not re-open (although I did get some very entertaining abuse each time I bemoaned this) but high up on the list of Highs – we did not end up with a Ukip MP either. I can still recall the feeling of pure elation I felt when, high on lack of sleep and relief, I walked up the hill from the Winter Gardens to Forts Café for some restorative tea and toast and everyone seemed to be smiling.

True, we got a Kipper council instead – the strange, fervent, banner-waving rally they put on two days later is one of my more disturbing memories of 2015 – but as we know, overall control was short-lived. Praise be to heaven, etc.

New shops, bars and restaurants have opened and if I’m not mistaken, fewer seem to have closed. The old town in Margate, and Addington Street and The Arches in Ramsgate are looking particularly perky and even if Costa Coffee has joined Iceland as another blot on the Broadstairs landscape, the rest of the town is holding up well.

On the odd sortie to Birchington, it seems bustling, the villages are looking in good shape and of all the times I travelled to London on the high speed this year, it was only ever cancelled once (signals, not leaves).

And then the long awaited, newly reborn Dreamland opened! Reliving my teenage years – when an evening hanging round the funfair was a top night out – has been one of the year’s highlights. Especially the magical moment of trundling to the top of the scenic railway for the first time in nigh on 40 years. (Watching Mike Pearce’s face as he was accosted by two jolly young male greeters wearing a lot of make-up, was another!)

If I have a wish for Margate for 2016 it is that the amusement park shall prevail. Although I still think a pay-as-you-go approach– bums-on-seats, they’ll-soon-spend-money-once-they’re-in-there – would be the way forward. Together with the increasing cutesy-ness of the old town and the ongoing triumph of Turner Contemporary, I see Margate – and thus Thanet in general – set to carry on being the must-come destination for the beautiful young things of the capital – or another potential Dalston-on-sea, as the media whispers go. With, very possibly, real ale being the new glass of fizz.

As a few more pubs have sadly closed, the micropubs of Thanet continue to mushroom with approaching 20 establishments now dotting the Isle. In St Peters, The Yard of Ale has made the final four of Camra’s National Pub of the Year, while down the road The Four Candles in Sowell Street goes from strength to strength as the UK’s smallest micro-brewery (being helped to make my own beer there this year was another personal favourite – who knew it would be so hard to climb out of a “kettle”?).

The future is bright as the mobile phone advertisment used to say, so whatever sort of time you’ve had in the last 52 weeks, may 2016 be better. Happy New Year!

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Read the original at: http://www.thanetgazette.co.uk/Plain-Jane-2015/story-28439560-detail/story.html#ixzz3wDfLKkfb

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Filed under: articles, Isle of Thanet Gazette, non-fiction, Plain Jane, writing Tagged: 2015, 2015 events, Birchington, Camra's National Pub of the Year, Dreamland, Forts Café, isle of thanet, Isle of Thanet Gazette, Manston, Margate, St Peters, Thanet, The Four Candles, The Yard of Ale, Winter Gardens

Plain Jane 041215: Manston, driving and, well, Manston again

I confess I have lost the plot when it comes to Manston.  Much as I continue to grieve for the heady days of KLM and flights to Schipol – gateway to the world – and would still chain myself to the runway for a daily flight to Spain, I can feel my eyes drooping at mention of CPOs, indemnities, Chris Wells (actually that’s true even without Manston) and consultations. That is, until I opened this paper last Friday and looked at the ghastliness that was the “vision” of how Manston could look.  Do we really want a mini Milton Keynes in our midst and how can it be good for the area  as a whole? One Ray Mallon (whose photo bears an uncanny resemblance to ex-council leader Clive Hart), spokesman for the site’s owners, talks of a planning application as soon as April, amid claims of creating 8,000 new jobs.  I don’t believe it.  Yes, 2,500 new homes will take some building and long-term, the extra families will create work for extra plumbers and electricians, hairdressers and  gutter-clearers. But where are those possible 5,000 inhabitants going to work themselves? Where are the dentists and doctors coming from? Where are the roads for the cars? I would submit that a properly-marketed airport offering travel to popular destinations for both business and leisure, that can serve the whole of the South-East, bringing more visitors and attracting more entrepreneurs would ultimately do more to swell the coffers of the local economy than the concreting over and plasticising of acres of green space to make a  glorified housing estate.

Those who pass their driving test on the third attempt make better drivers than those who sail through at the first try, a study carried out for LV Insurance has revealed. The theory  – borne out by statistics collated on collision and police involvement – is that the early passers are more likely to be over-confident and less experienced while the twice-failed have a tendency to exercise greater caution.  By this logic, I must be a near-genius behind the wheel. I eventually gained my licence thirty years ago after losing count of my trips to the test centre. There was the first, unforgettable occasion, when in my terror I jammed my instructor’s front door key into the ignition, it got stuck, and after five minutes of heavy sighing, the examiner stalked off. There was the second, when on sight of the same granite-faced official walking towards me, my leg shook so much I couldn’t hold down the clutch. There was the test cancelled because of the frost and the one where I left the handbrake on. There was the unscheduled emergency stop for the baby seagull (a bit harsh that one – what was I supposed to do? Pulverise it?)  and the slightly unfortunate misunderstanding at the roundabout. In those days you only had to get one cross on the sheet and you were out. The smiley examiner who finally passed me after the grim one had retired,  stopped smiling and looked suitably panic-struck when I flung my arms around him and demanded he marry me.  My son – with the smugness of one who passed first time aged 17 – refutes both the contents of the study and any suggestion of my superior prowess.  Who is better at reverse parking? I enquire. And rest my case.

The Government are investing £250 million in a quest to find an answer to Operation Stack, which, when ordinary motorists get caught up in the queues, is estimated to cost the Kent economy a million quid a day.  Could I suggest the dosh is used to get our own airport up and running again? With an area put aside for some of the lorries to reside on till the port or tunnel reopens?  And giving anyone with a car full of suitcases, screaming kids and a disgruntled granny, hoping for a break in France, the chance to simply fly?

See the original article at http://www.thanetgazette.co.uk/Plain-Jane-Manston-driving-Manston/story-28291331-detail/story.html.

Filed under: articles, Isle of Thanet Gazette, non-fiction, Plain Jane, writing Tagged: Broadstairs, Chris Wells, Clive Hart, Isle of Thanet Gazette, Jane Wenham-Jones, M&S, Manston, Margate, Operation Stack, Plain Jane, Ray Mallon, Schipol, Thames Water, Thanet, Thanet Gazette, The Isle of Thanet, The Isle of Thanet Gazette

Plain Jane 201115: Its vs it’s

Who knew? Our sewage systems are positively awash with precious metals. Analysts at Thames Water have discovered that when we wash our hands or clean our teeth, microscopic particles are rubbed away from wedding rings and expensive fillings and disappear in waste water, leaving sewage sludge as high in the valuable stuff as an economically viable goldmine. A bounty worth a whopping 13 million pounds worth a year if it could just be harvested without anyone honking up or getting  e coli.  I see another potential too. When listening to the ramblings of members of our local government, one need no longer be tempted by the somewhat crass summary  that our elected representatives are “full of ****”  Now, instead, one  can simply look enthralled and smile beatifically while murmuring softly: “Pure gold.”

I NEVER MET Cynthia Payne but it’s always sad when another character is lost. The infamous brothel-keeper and party-giver had many fans in Thanet who do not necessarily want to stand up and be counted. I  have therefore promised not to name the elderly gent who, in a triumph of optimism, bless him, still has a collection of  luncheon vouchers…

THERE WAS much dismay on the Thanet Gazette Facebook page this week at the news that a massive new Poundland was to grace Margate’s High Street. For those fretting about  a lowering of the tone I sympathise (I still wince every time I pass the front of Iceland here in Broadstairs) and I found myself nodding sagely as Sue Jane Windsor bemoaned the resultant loss of Superdrug and Victoria Cove proposed the alternative vision of an M&S with a café. But the postings that brought me out in a spontaneous rash came courtesy of one Dave Hollands, promptly supported by Colin Forbes. Following a typo on the original news story  “A new budget superstore could be on its way to Margate…“ in which “its’” was erroneously spelled “it’s”  and quickly corrected, Dave made the following observation.  “… the apostrophe is actually correct on this occasion. The ‘it’s’ is possessive. The shop is making the way (possessed by it) to the High Street.” While I was still having a small lie down to get my breathing back under control, he was pronounced “correct” by Colin.  I haven’t felt such a rush of blood to the head since Councillor Ken Gregory displayed his lack of education by attempting to debate the same point with me, after having ruined his quite amusing announcement  that he used my column to line his cat’s litter tray by also failing to grasp the concept of basic punctuation.  Please gather round and listen carefully. IT’S is a shortened version of  IT IS.  You wouldn’t say the dog ate it is bone, now, would you? Or the education system in this country has totally lost it is way. Or, come to that, the pound shop has made it is way anywhere, however unfortunate. Before we get too depressed, however, about standards, and the demise of civilisation as we know it, there is a small glimmer of hope. Mr Hollands,  has, behind his profile picture, a banner in support of the National Sarcasm Society. I can therefore only pray that he was joking…

WHILE ON FACEBOOK  I hesitated, mindful of the various  views on the subject, over whether to add a blue, red and white filter to my photograph, in support of the people of France. Was it simply a gimmick, a glib social media way of doing nothing very much, or was it even running the risk of “cheapening” the atrocity, as one blogger I’d read had suggested?  In the end I decided that were I Parisian, or personally involved in the hideous events of Friday night, I would be touched by others around the world  making some tiny gesture, however  – realistically speaking –  ineffectual. We do something small online because at this stage what else can we do? Except be united in our horror and our thoughts for those killed and injured and our determination to support whatever it takes to bring an end to evil and insanity.  I put the colours on. Solidarité.

Filed under: articles, Isle of Thanet Gazette, non-fiction, Plain Jane, writing Tagged: Broadstairs, Colin Forbes, Cynthia Payne, Isle of Thanet Gazette, Jane Wenham-Jones, Ken Gregory, M&S, Margate, National Sarcasm Society, Plain Jane, Sue Jane Windsor, Thames Water, Thanet, Thanet Gazette, The Isle of Thanet, The Isle of Thanet Gazette, Victoria Cove, Westgate Carlton cinema

Plain Jane 231015: The power of reviewers

Intriguing news from giant online seller Amazon, who are planning to sue 1,100 “fake” reviewers in a bid to claim damages for their “manipulation and deception” of customers.

While I am all for paid-for feedback being clamped down on, I am more stunned that a few fictitious paragraphs of praise can have such a wide-reaching effect. In an undercover investigation by the Sunday Times, a book was propelled into the Amazon bestseller lists via £56 worth of bought-in approbation.

Are we all such sheep and where on earth were the trolls when we needed them? Reviews can be interesting – particularly when by journalists or “experts” we respect – but surely we need to remember that now everyone’s a critic it is best to take all views, both favourable and otherwise, with a pinch of salt and a mind on possible agendas.

If 453 members of Trip Advisor say the Hotel De-Spotless had cockroaches and faced an open sewer, it is probably prudent to stay elsewhere, but my heart goes out to the small family-run bistro that gets slated by a rival establishment or some resentful ignoramus whose wife’s just left him, and sees its bookings plummet as a result.

Yes, anybody with a product to sell, a song to sing or a book to write, is well advised to develop a skin of rhino thickness as part of the territory but as a buying public should we not remove the power of those warped or nasty enough to attempt manipulation by vowing to “Take As We Find”?

I rarely heed either extravagant praise or bitter criticism unless it comes in shedloads, but know to my cost how powerful even a small amount of toxic opinion can be.

I once had six negative reviews in as many days – all clearly written by the same person and all declaring I had been reviewing myself. A strange accusation (and one which Amazon took down as defamatory), as I have my fair share of detractors as well as fans. Particularly across the pond on amazon.com where they don’t hold back on the forthright appraisals. A habit, when it’s honest, that I rather applaud.

Yes, I winced at “this is the worst book I have ever read” (although there is a certain cache in topping any sort of list) but I remain cheered by the kind reader who praised my novel One Glass Is Never Enough (set in Thanet) for being “well written” with characters that were “engaging”, and summarising her response with the glowing and unbeatable accolade that my tale was “exactly the type of mindless fluff I like…”

I’m sorry to smirk further, but it is quite entertaining, is it not. We all suspected the shiny new Kipper council might not be quite the answer the short-sighted voters who elected them might have been hoping for – not least because only a handful of them had any sort of experience of local government – but even I expected Chris Wells to keep control a little longer.

Yet a mere five months after the slightly chilling raised armed cheering and flag-waving that heralded the Ukip crew taking office, we once again have a hung council in Thanet, thanks to the five defectors who have set up the Democratic Independent Group, DIG (a hole maybe?). In my idealistic, happy-clappy over-simplistic way I now have a small dream whereby DIG makes friends with the 18 Conservatives, four Labour members and the lone Independent, to form what is basically an alliance (however informal) to keep the Kippers proper at bay (they can get Manston up and running again with my blessing but I don’t trust them let loose on much else).

I was all for the Want Action Not Kippers agreement, but I was vetoed. Not in a family newspaper, said the lovely Ed sternly. So I had to think again. “Want Inspiration Not Kippers” perhaps?

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Read the original at: http://www.thanetgazette.co.uk/Plain-Jane-power-reviewers/story-28034113-detail/story.html

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Filed under: articles, novels, Plain Jane, review, writing Tagged: Amazon, Amazon reviews, article, Chris Wells, conservatives, Democratic Independent Group, Labour, Manston, Plain Jane, reviews, Trip Advisor, Want Action Not Kippers

Plain Jane 091015: Rehabilitation not squalor for those in prison

Oh Lord, I agree with Michael Gove. Prisons do need reforming and should not be, as Nick Hardwick, Chief Inspector of Prisons puts it, “places of violence, squalor and idleness”. Surely it’s punishment enough to be locked up in the first place.

And even if you’re of the “hanging’s too good for ’em” persuasion and rolling your eyes in despair at my bleeding heart liberalism, then let statistics persuade you that a brutal environment does nothing to prevent reoffending. Education and training is vital to help prevent inmates from coming back and I know from my own limited experience of giving writing workshops behind bars, how life-changing even a small input can be. (And how complex the bureaucracy that surrounds efforts to provide it. It was only this summer, for heaven’s sake, that prisoners were finally permitted to receive a direct gift of books). Proportionally, we have the highest prison population in Europe – madness when a community service order is both cheaper and more useful to society – and have seemed to be doing little to turn this whole disaster around. So a thumbs-up for the new proposals in general and I was struck by one in particular. The idea of selling off the areas of land – now at a premium – on which stand the worst of our outdated and dilapidated jails, and putting up more modern facilities out of town ticks many boxes. Better conditions more conducive to rehabilitation, a cash injection from prime city building plots and an answer perhaps, if it’s done right, to the desperate need for affordable housing. We could do worse to look at this as a principle for Thanet. The idea of a mass of new builds plonked in the middle of our green fields appeals to no one but the developers but much could be done with existing empty buildings and shops, simultaneously removing some eyesores from our towns and providing some of these thousands of homes we are told we need. The hot topic on Facebook last week was whether the old Margate Woolworths should become a gym. No it shouldn’t. We’ve enough muscle-bound, protein-shake-filled primates prancing about in lycra already. Turn it into flats.

So now, even the flimsiest split-if-I-look-at-you carrier bag, costs 5p – a move that promises to raise millions for “good causes” and cut down on the seven billion bags given away freely last year.

I have to admit that quite a few of them came to me. It’s not that I don’t believe in Bags-for-Life – I have a fine collection in different colours and sizes. The boot of my car also boasts a hessian carrier, a large black cloth one, some reinforced reusable cold-bags for transporting frozen goods and a selection of wine-bottle holders in various shades of cardboard and plastic. The problem is they tend to stay there. I don’t know why I have a mental block about getting them out of said boot and into my trolley but I invariably pitch up at the checkout with no means of packing a hundred quid’s worth of impulse purchases and needing what will now be up to 50p worth of high density polythene. Before you rush me to the Green Police, however, consider this: I never simply throw these bags away. Every one is recycled as a kitchen pedal bin liner. I have not bought a packet of those for as long as I can remember. So what is better for the environment? For me to now pay for the flimsies – contributing probably in excess of £20 to the good-cause coffers in the next 12 months or revert to paying for proper bin liners that are bigger, sturdier (thus wasting more plastic) and will line the pockets of retailers instead? Answers on a postcard – recycled, re-pulped, reclaimed, organic and from a suitably sustainable source – please!

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Read the original at: http://www.thanetgazette.co.uk/Plain-Jane-Rehabilitation-squalor-prison/story-27946509-detail/story.html

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Filed under: articles, Isle of Thanet Gazette, Plain Jane, writing Tagged: bags for life, Isle of Thanet Gazette, Jane Wenham-Jones, Margate, Michael Gove, Nick Hardwick, prisons, Thanet Gazette, Woolworths

Plain Jane 250915: A trip down memory lane

In a spirit of better late than never, we are posting this anyway even though half of it is now past its sell-by date. But they’ll be an autumn production from the Minster Playhouse. And Love, Life and Laughter will return. Come next time! :-)

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As in life, so in Downton Abbey. Sunday evenings are bright again with the return of the addictive period drama, but now it is 1925 and the arguments wrangle over who should best administer the local hospital and which members of staff will face redundancy.

“Does anyone have an under-butler these days?” muses Hugh Bonneville as the Earl of Grantham. I’ve no idea but I wouldn’t mind. Should I ever take possession of the Euromillions, I would happily eschew yachts and diamonds for the luxury of a dark-suited Jim Carter look-alike gliding towards me in tails with sage words and a small sherry. Harbouring as I do, a quiet adoration for the inscrutable Carson, only matched by my adulation of Maggie Smith playing the dowager. (I am still grieved I missed the chance to fling roses at her feet when she was filming in Broadstairs last winter.) “I wouldn’t let standards slip that far,” she announces at any suggestion of letting her own salver-bearer go. Those were the days…

If you too, like harking back in time, may I urge you to trot along to Minster Village Hall tonight or tomorrow to watch A Bolt From The Blue, the weird and wonderful tale of a man whose body clock reverses. I am so confident it will be terrific that I am writing this (such are the vagaries of local paper deadlines) before I’ve even been to see it myself. I don’t mention the thriving village of Minster-in-Thanet often enough, so here is a big shout-out for the Minster Playhouse, whose production it is, and for which my esteemed and excellent dentist, David Downes-Powell, is a whiz with the lighting and known for his special effects. David Tristram’s play promises to deliver more of the same – I have already heard rumours of lightning strikes and bodily explosions – and I fully expect the performance in general to be up to its usual high standard. It’s use it or lose it, when it comes to quality local drama. Go get your bum on a seat.

Or why not do it twice. Sunday night sees the return of the fund-raiser Love, Life And Laughter at the Sarah Thorne Memorial Theatre in Broadstairs. I am down as MC, together with the ever-fabulous Lisa Payne, to introduce an ultra-talented cast in an evening of songs, poems and sketches, and as they say, so much more. If past years are anything to go by, you’ll be in for a treat. With the warm glow of knowing you’re boosting a really good cause. All proceeds from the event go to Macmillan Cancer Support and you don’t get much more worthy than that. It starts early, at 6pm. You’ll be home for Downton Abbey…

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Read the original at: http://www.thanetgazette.co.uk/Plain-Jane-trip-memory-lane/story-27861756-detail/story.html

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Filed under: articles, humour, Isle of Thanet Gazette, non-fiction, Plain Jane, writing Tagged: A Bolt From The Blue, Broadstairs, David Downes-Powell, David Tristram, Downton Abbey, Earl of Grantham, Euromillions, Hugh Bonneville, Jane Wenham-Jones, Jim Carter, Macmillan Cancer Support, Maggie Smith, Minster Village Hall, period drama, Plain Jane, Ramsgate, Ramsgate Arts, Ramsgate Festival, Ramsgate Harbour, Ramsgate Sands, Ramsgate's Got Talent, Sarah Thorne Memorial Theatre, South East England, South Thanet, Thanet, Thanet South, The Telegraph

Plain Jane 100915: Festivals are great – but please just count me out

I turn my back on Thanet for a mere moment and it all happens! Jeremy Corbyn (aka RIP any chance of a Labour Government for the next umpteen years) holds a rally in the Winter Gardens, Jarvis Cocker comes to town and Ellington Park has a music festival!

I do hope it went well but wild horses, etc. I love music but the thought of a festival brings me out in hives. I have never wanted to go to Glastonbury, or any of the other hundreds of such events that have sprung up all over the UK in recent years. Maybe if your en-suite Winnebago is parked up in the VIP area it might all be jolly good fun but why would us ordinary mortals want to wallow in mud with 150,000 other unwashed bodies, before squashing into a sweaty tent near the queue for the stinky temporary loos. I know I am out of tune here. The middle-aged now apparently flock to the 500-plus festivals organised in the UK each year, in their droves. Many take their kids too. This makes me shudder further.

“Have you ever,” Neil McCormick wrote in The Telegraph, “tried to encourage a small child to hover over a hole big enough for him to fall through, below which is a visible river of merde?” No, I can’t say I have. And nor, I can assure you most fervently, would I want to. I carry lavender oil to smear beneath my nostrils (a tip given to me by a veteran festival-goer as it happens) in case I have to venture into any sort of potentially dodgy public convenience – even the kind with hand dryers and running water.

Yet here I am, enjoying a rhythmic extravaganza after all – the Gibraltar Music Festival! So far I have been treated to Duran Duran, Tom Odell, Ella Henderson and Paloma Faith. As I type, we are being promised Madness. And Kings of Leon, the headline act, are due up later tonight (my son is still shaking his head in despair at my ancientness, ignorance and lack of awareness since I confessed that up until yesterday, I didn’t know who they were). The queues to get in were horrendous, and I hardly dare think about the way the traffic will back up when it’s all over and the thousands try to get home.

But who cares – I won’t be one of them. For I am lying back on a Spanish balcony, just over the frontier from the Rock, where I can still hear the melodies, see the stage and watch the lights on the screens. Yes, yes, I know, you purists and seasoned Glastonbury-goers, that I am not getting the full experience. That actually being “there” is all about the atmosphere, of being one with the crowd, of the indefinable happy-clappy, gloriously dilettante escapism of the throb of the beat and the haze of marijuana hanging on the sweet air, but I don’t need that to relive my youth, I really don’t. I am having a very good time indeed. With no queues, no horrid loos, and ice in my gin and tonic. I tell you folks, when it comes to festivals, balconies are the way to go….

SHOPPING in the local hypermarket, Carrefour, I was amused to see a section marked “Inglaterra”. Here were shelves sporting all the products us Brits might like: Marmite, peanut butter, Walkers shortbread and PG Tips. And of course, taking pride of place – ex-pats have much to answer for – a neat stack of tins of Heinz baked beans. Is there no escape? I find the thought of eating mushy blobs in sweet red sauce revolting even when I’m at home. I’d almost rather go to a festival…

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Read the original at: http://www.thanetgazette.co.uk/Festivals-great-just-count/story-27773588-detail/story.html#ixzz3lsr8cem3

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Plain Jane 310815: Watch where you walk

SO THERE went summer. I know it goes more quickly as you age and grow grumpy but this one really has sped past at an alarming rate. We waited months for the sun to come out then, blink, the kids were swarming the pavements, blink, it was Folk Week (in which they did not seem to swarm in quite the same quantities as usual) and now one opens one’s eyes to find Lo, it’s Bank Holiday Weekend and the double parking is pretty much over. Let us hope that September proves warm so we can get in a few more doses of vitamin D before the long winter ahead and that Margate keeps up the good work. While nationally, the numbers of trips to the coast, are falling year on year, our very own seaside resort has been bucking the trend with over 13,000 tourists popping into the Visitor Information Centre in July. Hurrah for the shops and businesses and if you’re fed up with outsiders clogging up the coffee shops and fast food outlets, moan not. It will be February before you know it.

ANOTHER reason to lament the end of Summer – it’s a time to watch where you walk. An email from TPPS (The Phantom Poo Sprayer), bringing me up to date with activities, assures me that “dog dumping is seasonal!” TPPS – the self-appointed guardian of Ramsgate pavements, who has appeared on these pages before, has now spray-painted 156 offerings with its trademark biodegradable pink paint, spanning some 18 roads in Ramsgate, and can state categorically “there is less in the summer than other months.” TPPS puts this down to the lighter evenings, which is only logical. Culprits feel less able to walk away from the evidence that they are irresponsible half-wits, when they might be spotted – and hopefully tackled – by their fellow citizens, or caught on CCTV. I have noticed a dramatic uprise in abandoned turds on the steps down to Stone Bay during the winter too. (Some left by dogs who are encouraged to venture down alone while their slack-bummed owners stay in the warmth of their cars!) I could fill the rest of the page with a string of enraged adjectives and still not properly express how furious this leaves me. TPPS is not one to simply carp however. Four possible solutions are offered in the missive, becoming ever more appealing in ascending order. The council contractor Kingdom, responsible for environmental street enforcement continues to mete out fines. The council and this newspaper makes dog-owners aware of a product known as “Poop Freeze” that makes fecal matter easier to gather (I will spare you the graphic detail in which TPPS explained the theory here). More bins are provided (TPPS has studied the statistics and some of the most prolific dog-fouling offenders, it tells me, live in roads that utilise seagull-proof bags, rather than wheelies. The idea being that if a proper bin were at hand – even if it belonged to someone else – the dog-owner would use it. Although wouldn’t the sort of person decent enough to pick up, I wonder, also carry their fragrant package until they find somewhere suitable to put it?) And finally, our valiant sprayer’s most radical proposal, in which I can see some small snags but which would be undeniably effective: “making examples of” anyone caught not clearing up. “If they were soundly horse whipped in public, and their dog was shot dead on the spot, it could work,” TPPS suggests calmly. “Once word got around…”

I understand there’s a vacancy in the council cabinet right now. TPPS could fit in nicely…

Read the original article at: http://www.thanetgazette.co.uk/Plain-Jane-Watch-walk/story-27710010-detail/story.html

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Filed under: articles, Isle of Thanet Gazette, non-fiction, Plain Jane, writing Tagged: Bank Holiday Weekend, Jane Wenham-Jones, Plain Jane, Ramsgate, Ramsgate Arts, Ramsgate Festival, Ramsgate Harbour, Ramsgate Sands, Ramsgate's Got Talent, South East England, South Thanet, Thanet, Thanet South, TPPS, Visitor Information Centre

Champagne de Romance at Chez Castillon

It is always a joy to be at Chez Castillon.  Next course up – could it be for you? – Write and Sell Short Stories. Write a short story for Woman’s Weekly – and get personal feedback from their fiction editor – or a prize-grabbing entry for a competition.

Coming soon – Writing Crime with lovely Clare Mackintosh and Pitch and Sell Your Novel avec moi :-). For details of all courses see here.

To give you a flavour of what to expect I’d like to share a post from Lynne Shelby, winner of the Accent Press and Woman magazine novel competition who blogged about her experience at Chez Castillon, in May.  You can read the original – and find out more about the fabulous venue – at http://www.chez-castillon.com/437/champagne-de-romance-at-chez-castillon.

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From Lynne:

It’s market day in the small French town of Castillon de Bataille. Writer’s notebook and camera in hand, I edge through the crowds gathered around stalls selling fish and meat, fresh herbs and spices, and dresses fluttering in the breeze like brightly coloured flags. Later, I am to write an atmospheric description of the market through the eyes of a character in my WIP.

I am spending a week at a writers’ retreat at beautiful Chez Castillon, part of my prize for winning the Accent Press and Woman magazine Writing Competition with my debut novel French Kissing (I’m so excited that it’s now available on from Accent Press!)

Days at Chez Castillon begin with a breakfast of fresh croissants and baguettes from the local boulangerie (I could get used to this!). Then I and my fellow writing students, Sue, Mary, Helen and Peter, spend the morning in the “classroom” with our inspiring and insightful (and patient!) tutor, Jane Wenham-Jones.

Janie and Mickey who run Chez Castillon are wonderful hosts. As well as being a writer (her novel, Life’s A Drag, is published by Accent Press), Janie is a superb cook, and for lunch and dinner, all the students, and the writers in residence, Katie Fforde, Judy Astley, Catherine Jones (writing as Fiona Field), Jo Thomas and Clare Mackintosh, gather in the dining room for delicious food, fabulous wine and much laughter (I do like being a writer!).

Today, after lunch, best-selling novelist, Katie Fforde, one of the judges of the Accent Press and Woman Writing Competition, helps me with my WIP. I sit by the pool in the sun, holding my breath while she reads my work, and I’m so thrilled and delighted when she likes it. She very generously shares her expertise and knowledge, and gives me some invaluable advice on how to sort out my plot.

Also at Chez Castillon this week is David Headley of DHH Literary Agency. Jane helps me, Sue, Mary, Helen and Peter work on the pitches for our books, which we then present to David for feedback. I’m very encouraged by his appreciative interest in my WIP. It’s such a great opportunity to hear what a top literary agent looks for in a submission and to learn a little more about publishing.

My first visit to Chez Castillon goes all too fast. It’s been an inspiring and exhilarating week of writing, with great food, great wine, and above all great company – and so much fun. And what better way to toast a gathering of writers that includes romantic novelists than with Champagne de Romance? Santé.

If you’d like to be inspired by the beautiful Chez Castillon and its writers in residence, why not join bestselling novelist and tutor Jane Wenham-Jones in October? 

Filed under: events, novels, short stories, writing Tagged: Accent Press, Castillon de Bataille, Catherine Jones, Chez Castillon, Clare Mackintosh, David Headley, DHH Literary Agency, Fiona Field, Jane Wenham-Jones, Jo Thomas, Judy Astley, Katie Fforde, southern France, Woman magazine, Writing Competition, writing courses