You're in Da Nang now boy..

Made my first cash withdrawal yesterday. It's slightly unnerving to type six zeros into an ATM just to withdraw $50. It's so cheap here that that'll last at least another five days. Actually we are all getting so acclimatized to prices that when the laundry came back today and cost 130,000 Dong we were all outraged. Until someone pointed out that's about $6.50 for 15 items. Not bad really.

The trip from Hue to Hoi An yesterday was a bit never ending again. So many stops to see so many things. It all becomes a bit of a blur but there were the first real American War relics we've seen so far. It pretty much starts outside Da Nang on the Col de Nuages pass, a very bendy, very steep ascent over the mountains which is not for the faint hearted when being driven by a Vietnamese driver. Particularly through the road works sections which are careful marked off with a bit of stick and a giant pothole. Good job no one drive on the correct side of the road anyway. After surviving the trip to the top we got to see the above pill box bunkers. The first defenses built by the US after the landed in Da Nang. They are pretty sturdy and command a great position in the pass but I cannot imagine what the GIs thought when they arrived from Lickspittle, Iowa and were put straight in a concrete target in the mists of a Vietnamese mountain. No wonder so much pot was smoked. Speaking of which we also went to China Beach. Apparently this is a famous tv series as well as the main R&R resort for Americans. I've never heard of the tv show but the beach was nice (in a way that no Australian would agree with considering the beaches in Oz). I would guess it was amazingly wild during the war, now it's pretty much deserted and ripe for development. A pity then that it's in Da Nang which must be one of the most charmless depressing towns we've seen so far. Our guide explained there was nothing to see except the beach and the Cham museum, and he should know as he was a refugee here for two years.

More and more little details are emerging about Mr Hua. It sounds like his family was on the wrong side during the war (that is, NOT Uncle Ho's) and there are still consequences of this almost 40 years later when he and his kids tried to get university place. No one can hold a grudge like a revolutionary can hold a grudge it seems.

Although they don't seem to mind taking their old foreign enemies money. All along the road from Da Nang to Hoi An are huge, mostly half finished, resorts funded by French and US hotel chains. How they are ever going to finish them let alone sell all the villas is beyond me in these allegedly straitened times. Although the developers obviously have a lot of faith in Greg Norman as shown by his face being plastered on every lamppost for kilometers around. I wonder if he's even aware that he's building a golf course "community" in Vietnam?

Hoi An is a beautiful place but by far the most touristy place we've been so far. Not that that's a big issue at this point as we are all quite glad to be able to get a decent coffee and some food without noodles for a while. The whole old town is pretty much as it was in the C16 & C17, except every house is a tailors, cafe or flogging Tin Tin in Vietnam reproductions. Still very pretty and best of all it's pedestrianized in most street so there is finally respite from the scooters and the tooting of horns. Except outside my hotel which is on a corner and unbelievably noisy. And also the least pleasant place so far. Not particularly clean and lots of reports of bedbugs. Not that I have any; and believe me I looked VERY carefully when I checked in.

Everyone has been getting measured for clothes and I was going to get a linen jacket made for $60. Which isn't really that cheap and I'd never actually wear it. Unless there was a wedding or funeral. It would shopping for the sake of if really. So I bought a shirt instead. And just to proove you really can't escape Jezza, Captain Slow and the Hamster it appears I've ordered it from their tailor. The little girl asked me "did you see us on Top Gear?". The world is so tiny now. I hope it'll be ok as they are just delivering it to the hotel tomorrow so I don't need to go back and get it. I think the returns policy is non-existent.

Most of the group have gone to Mai Lai today to see the massacre memorial but I gave it a miss. I think I'll have enough atrocity tourism when I get to Cambodia. Instead I decided to rent a bike and cycle along the river. I was going to get a moped but I'm glad I didn't after seeing the state of the push-bike. It didn't actually fall apart but sure as hell felt like it would. The chain came off about four times and typically when I had left the wet wipes at the hotel. Luckily a string of helpful Vietnamese people gave me tissues and newspaper to wipe my hands so that was good. I'm amazed I survived the traffic really but it seems the "don't look too much and you'll be fine" method really works here. I got back just as the rain started so I'm having a beer on my balcony being deafened by the traffic below. The hotel has a New Years Eve do tonight so I'm saving my strength to try and stay awake 'till midnight. I think this may be an impossible ask but peer pressure is a terrible thing.

Next update will be next year.

Happy New Year to all!

Storm the Citadel!

The Citadel in Hue is the traditional seat of power of the Nguyen Emperors, right up to 1945, when Ho Chi Minh politely asked them to abdicate and help the revolution. Apparently he did and was asked by Ho to go to France to buy arms to fight, well the French actually. Sadly he decided to just stay in Paris instead, so that was pretty much that.

It's a huge place, the walls alone are 20 metres thick, and it's amazing to see how these people were living right up to really recent times. It's a bit like the Forbidden City in Beijing, the people only got to see their emperor twice a year and the rest of the time he was in here drinking tea and worshipping his ancestors. You can sort of see how Communism got a foothold when you realise the amount of wealth the Emperor had and the total poverty the rest of the population suffered. Some people may draw a modern comparison between Party and people, but I would never do that. I have noticed that there is a massive amount of poverty in Vietnam, just hidden below the surface. I mean there are lots of Mercs and BMWs around, but there are plenty of people scratching a living selling wrapping paper on the side of the road. I assume it's a bit like the Chinese "Miracle"; plenty of millionaires, but billions of nothingaires.

Anyhow after the emperors moved out the place was pretty much not used for much, but came into the news again when the Viet Cong decided to occupy it during the Tet Offensive. It took the Americans over three weeks to fight about 100m down the road to even get to the place, then another month to get the VC out. And I can see why, the place was designed as a fortess and is obviously very good at it's job, the thick walls, only a few easily defendable gates, a moat. You name it, it's got it. Well except a bunker. Once the US was given the go ahead to bomb the crap out of the place it was all over pretty quickly.

But this does leave the modern visitor (and there are a lot, see pic above) with a slightly odd visiting experience. Most of the standing buildings have been built since 1995 (with foreign money, but don't ask me why a revolutionary government would spend money rebuilding things from the imperial past) and the rest is just the platforms the internal buildings stood on. It's odd to walk around a site that is still basically a battle field. Bullet holes in walls, fallen walls and even some shrapnel. To think this was once a Royal Palace is amazing. It would be like walking round a flatened Windsor Castle after a guerilla battle between the Queen and the Communist Party. Mind you it might make Windsor Castle a bit more interesting.

We got there just in time as it started to get very very busy with Korean and Chinese tour groups. These seem to travel in suit and tie most of the time so you can't tell if they are on holiday or trying to sign a contract for a new factory.

Spent the afternoon sitting on a hotel roof top drinking a few beers and having lunch, which seems to bizzarely given me an upset stomach. Just my luck to get poisened by the five star hotel while the dodgy looking food stalls have had no effect. Needless to say I am having an evening in the hotel in dashing distance to the facilities but this does give me a chance to share so observations on Vietnam:

1] There are so many staff everywhere, I assume to try and make it look like there is full employment. Even the toll booth on the motorway had two people in each box. I suppose they at least keep each other warm in the winter.

2] Everyone in even the least offical job has a uniform like a five star general. The girl on the train whose only job seemed to be to tell us to close the windows had braid and five stars on her epaulettes.

3] Vietnames TV is very odd. I suppose because it's free market and communist it explains the Soviet movies, full of heroic proletariat fighting for freedon from their opressive landlords, folowed by Vietnam Idol. Yes they get the singing freak show here too.

4] They really love Korean Boy Bands. There seems to be an entire channel dedicated to this strange phenomenon. I have never seen such a campy collection of non-threatening boys in my life. Apparently the whole of Asia goes for these fellas, yet in the west we've never heard of them. Luckily for us probably.

OK I've been kicked off the computer, outstayed my welcome so I'll sign off. Don't want a 12 year old girl in a uniform taking my name. No time to check my spelling so you'll have to live with it.

Trippy

Had a well weird evening last night. Our guide reccomended a reataurant where we could eat 'royal Hue court food' and listen to some traditional music.

When we got there it turned out we had to dress up as imperial mandarins and mandarinas and process into the dining room. Much embarrasment and amusement followed. Mostly embarrasment.

The whole evening was a bit of a wierd event. The band we had playing for us looked sooo  pissed off. The lad playing the Vietnamese violin looked like he was only there because his parents had made him. They were all also having a bit of a chat among themselves during the different numbers. It was like watching a Rep Club christmas show rehearsal. Sadly the food was also the worst we've had so far, which was a surprise as even the food in the little roadside cafes has been excellent.

Oh and the vegetarians got brought meat kebabs and I got a huge prawn in a pot. So they still haven't quite worked that business out yet.

I think in future I'll stick to the Lonely Planet reccomendations and avoid the places suggested by Mr Hua.

Planes, trains and automobiles

Thank god I've finally stopped. In the last 24 hours I've been on a boat, a bus, a train, a bus, a boat and a bus. In that order. Truly an epic journey and I just need a day or two to recover.

After I blogged yesterday there was the weirdest relay to allow everyone to "freshen up" using a couple of rooms before getting on the train. There was a list and we all had 15 mins each. I've noticed that this company is very organized. Too much really as we keep getting told where to eat and where to leave our bags. In fact our tour leader is very insistent that we leave our passports and bags behind on every excursion. As you can imagine this causes a lot of mumbling from the rest of us. The British tourist suffers significant separation anxiety if you take their passport away. It does seem odd that the Vietnamese think your personal effects are safer left in the hotel lobby or on a bus than they are on your back or in your pocket. I blame communism. I had also forgotten how much the British love a tan. Or sunburn more accurately. Of the 18 people sitting in the sun on a boat all day I only saw 4 of us put on sunscreen. So many rosey faces today.

So eventually we got on the train. This is when we discovered why we had a freshen up opportunity before we got on. It was basic to say the least. Think prisoner of war camp or gulag and you're getting there. I expected to be asked to join the escape committee. The toilet was a western type but unfortunately just dropped your little package straight onto the track. The squat lav at the other end was indescribable. We were told we wouldn't need a sleeping sheet as we were in the special carriages for tourists and well to do Vietnamese and would have a sheet pillow and blanket. Well so we did. I would imagine the provided linen had been there since the Tet Offensive. I don't think it was blood but I used my sleeping sheet anyway. And slept in my clothes. Mind you that was necessary because the aircon was on all night and it was freezing. I was on the top bunk, which took me straight back to caravan holidays as a kid, and I thought I slept quite well considering. It's quite soothing with the clackety-clack of the train sending you off to sleep. Not so soothing when the brakes are jammed on and you're almost thrown across the carriage every hour or so.

I went for a wander up the train and realized we really were in the fancy part of the train. We had 4 bunks per cabin. The cheap seats had 6. And the really cheap seats were just seats. Not the best for the 36 hour trip from Hanoi to Saigon.

Ours was just 12 hours to Hue and I've never been so glad to get somewhere. Unfortunately we couldn't rest as there was a trip to a monastery and a boat trip to do.

It surprises me how the Party here tolerates religious freedom. That must be pretty unique in a single party state. I will ask why at some point when I pluck up the courage, I feel strangely reticent to question the locals about the Party incase it puts them in a difficult position. It may be because the Buddhist monks here have a history of being quite vocal and beligerant in the defense of their religion. The monastery today, Thien Mu Pagoda, is where the first self immolating monk (Thich Quang Duc) was from. The Austin he made his final journey to Saigon in is still here.

Hue is so peaceful after Hanoi. Less traffic and a lot less tooting of horns. However the hawkers trying to sell you crap do seem to be getting more persistent as we go further south.

I also had my fist real Apocolypse Now moment on the Perfume River today. We were speeding along in our boat and went past a couple of old American patrol boats still there on the river.

It was almost enough to give you flashbacks.

Load of junk

Spent the last 24 hours in Ha Long bay which is one if the most beautiful places I've ever seen. If you're a Top Gear fan it's where they turned their mopeds into motorboats. Lots of limestone islands sticking out of the ground. And I mean LOTS. 2000 I think. To be honest I can't really remember as we've had so much info imparted in the last two days I'm getting confused. Suffice to say there's a lot. And we cruised through them in a wooden junk. All I could think of was Roger Moore in those 70s Bond movies which always seemed to involve a fight on a junk at some point.

No fights today though. Just warm sunshine and plenty of seafood. Actually this is causing some confusion. The prawn allergic (me) and the three vegetarians are being kept apart from the rest at meal times. It's like being on the kids table at Christmas. Supposedly it's to prevent confusion but seeing as they still bring meat spring rolls and fried pork to the table I'd suggest it's not working. Ok for me though. Except they also brought prawns. I'll assume its the language barrier.

Getting there yesterday was an experience in itself. The drivers are totally suicidal yet there appear to be no crashes and very few dented cars. That might be more due to the 50 kph speed-limit though which explained the 4 hours to do 140 kms. I'm also amazed that these Vietnamese drivers can turn a two lane road into five lanes. That is some awesome filtering going on right there.

We passed some huge factories (Foxconn was one so expect your next iProduct to be Vietnamese) and went through a coal mining town, the streets of which were black, along with the people, buildings and cows. I'm guessing they don't hand out many "accident free days" t-shirts here judging by the thongs all the workers were wearing.

So now we are just waiting to get on the train for the 12 hour trip to Hue. I've never been on a train that long. Even with British Rail's help and leaves on the line. Apparently the food on board is not really safe so we have stocked up with stuff for breakfast. Unfortunately the only place nearby is a 7-eleven clone so it looks like kit-kats, crisps and biscuits for brekkie.

I've discovered two more fascinating facts today. Firstly that the music of Sigur Ròs matches the passing Vietnamese countryside perfectly.

Secondly Top Gear was on the tv in Vietnamese last night. You can't escape Jeremy Clarkeson anywhere in the world.

Good morning sunshine

Ha Long Bay today and finally the sun makes an appearance.

And the winner is...

I underestimated Uncle Ho yesterday. He didn't beat two foreign powers, he beat four. The Chinese, the Japanese, the French and finally the Americans. Oh and the British who propped up the French in 1945. I had no idea. Bizarrely after the war finished the British directed the Japanese prisoners of war to fight the Viet Minh on behalf of the French. What a tangled web we weave. Or wove, seeing as the UK is a bit of a spent force when it cones to international intrigue nowadays.

I'm pretty glad that was our last escapade in indochina considering the shit that went down after 1965. Take this with a pinch of salt, seeing that the source is the Vietnam military history museum, but the USA had a hell of a time in Vietnam. I've never seen so many bits of aircraft in one place and the pictures of the conditions both sides fought in show what a hellhole it was. You realize the US and her allies (south Vietnam, Australia and New Zealand to give credit to all) hadn't a hope of winning when Ho Chi Minh and his generals had had almost 30 years to perfect their guerilla techniques before the yankies even arrived. They really should have spoken to the French before they got here. You have to remember that the NVA weren't just pajama wearing guerillas. They had MiGs and missiles too. I don't think you really get that impression from the movies. Its funny that the Americans in 1945 were all about self determination. Unless you're a commie of course. Never get involved in a civil war. Just ask the boys in Afghanistan.

It's a great museum though. There us no ceremony with the relics. You can touch and climb all you like. Well on the US stuff at least. Not so much with the local memorabilia.

Anyhow it's my last morning in Hanoi so I'm off for lunch then a four hour drive to Ha Long bay. Its only 150 km so I'm expecting a lot of traffic. Wish me luck.

Uncle Ho

Communism. Where all people are equal. Unless you're the president in which case you get a massive mausoleum. And embalmed.

Yes we went to see Uncle Ho this morning; possibly the worlds weirdest tourist attraction. He's a testament to that strange soviet art of embalming. He looks amazingly perky for a man who's been dead for 40 years. Some of the group didn't realize we were actually about to see the man himself so were a bit surprised to find themselves filing past a corpse. But it did explain the no talking, no hands in pockets, no shorts, no t-shirts rules. Enforced by men with bayonets. Thank god my phone was on silent when I got that SMS message. I think your phone beeping is probably also against the rules.

It's hard to tell if these rules really need to be enforced or not as everyone here reveres and loves "Uncle Ho". Or at least seems to. I'm pretty sure our guide is not being sarcastic when he talks about the Party and how they've made Vietnam so successful. To be honest Ho Chi Minh should be pretty well loved as there aren't many leaders who have seen off two of the worlds great powers. But why he needs to be kept on show when his own wishes were to be cremated and scattered over Vietnam is beyond me. The cult of personality is very strange; and rare in democracies. Although Obama came close before he got elected. Think he's missed his chance now though.

The mausoleum is also part of the Presidential Palace. A huge French colonial pile that HCM refused to live in. He had a tiny two room wooden house built in the grounds and lived there instead. He really did seem to be a man of principles. He even had an outdoor dunny though that's taking principles too far in my opinion.

We also lost our first group member at the mausoleum. One of the ladies has a dicky hip so decided to give the hike around the "Wonderful World Of Communism" a miss. Unfortunately the guide couldn't remember when and where we were meeting her. I have to say he didn't seem to bothered about leaving her behind. She turned up just as we were boarding the bus. I'm pretty sure he'd get his pay docked if he looses too many guests.

There were two examples of things not being as they appear today. Both involving temples. The first one was the historic One Pillar Pagoda. Built in 1050. Except the current version was built in 1954 after the French demolished it when they left. So not at all historic then really. The next was the Temple Of Literature, completed in 2000. Admittedly some of it was old but it reminds you that quite a lot of Hanoi was completely bombed flat not all that long ago. In fact during my lifetime. Just. This place did have the most amazing gift shop I've ever seen though, selling buddha images and hammer and sickle banners. You don't get that in St Pauls.

So tomorrow morning is our first free time so I'm off to the Vietnam Military History Museum. We drove past today and it's got MiG fighters and tanks outside! How can anyone resist. And over the road is Lenin Square with the big statue and all. See it really is communist here.

So far it's great here. The food is good and cheap (bowl of phô = $1, beer = $1), the people are friendly and not totally obsessed with hassling you to buy stuff and I'm even getting used to crossing the road (just step out, don't look and everyone just seems to miss you). However the use of two currencies is doing my head in. Sometimes it's US$. sometimes it's VND. I prefer the latter as it's fun to say "that's 20000 Dong thanks". Much hilarity.

Oh and if you come here bring a European two pin plug adaptor. Most of the guide books say US or UK. Both are wrong. Luckily one of the group loaned me hers otherwise I'd be taking no pictures and receiving no SMS messages.

Mind you as I'm international roaming that might be a good thing.

Good Morning Vietnam

Well I'm here and it's bonkers! So much traffic, so much noise, so many people. I realised when I got to the airport that this was the first Communist Country I've been to, proven by the giant hats on the officials and the lack of smiling. Also the hour it too to get my bags back. I was definately getting separation anxiety untill I realised all the Australians were still waiting for thier luggage. Payback maybe?

The Taxi ride was also a steep learing curve. Firstly because I have been warned so many times about dodgy taxi drivers ripping you off here and secondly because of the traffic madness. I was in fact a little ripped off, with the agreed price od 250000 VND at the start of the hourney increasing to 400000 half way through. Significant inflation, but still only $20 foran hours taxi ride. No bad really.

The rest of my group arrived yesterday, they are a mixed bunch, young and old, mostly British, one American and a lady from Ireland, so it should be interesting. About to head off on the first days tripping so this is where I'll find out if I can really cope with organized travel.

Here I go again..

Ahh. Perth "International" Airport. How I've missed your hallowed, and surprisingly tiny, halls. Particularly noticeable tonight as there are five flights all checked in and waiting at the same time. Never seen so many people milling about in my life. Probably caused by a lack of seating in here. And exacerbated by the people lying across numerous seats.

Why do people feel the need to sleep at Perth airport. Surely you have barely started your journey as this is pretty much the end of every airlines route. Sleeping in transit at Dubai or Singapore I can understand. But here? Obviously all that checking in tired you out.

There is also an extremely unpleasant odour in the air. I'll blame the people on the no-frills airlines. I long for the days when air travel was expensive and glamorous and involved less people in thongs (the footwear not the underwear, but they may be wearing those too to match the lumbar tattoos).

You say snob; I say discerning!

Howzat?

Well you know summer is here when the words "England Collapses" appear in the sports news. The good old England Cricket Team are nothing if not dependable...as long as you aren't depending on them to have a winning streak of more than one match that is.

I put an app on my phone that sends me a little message, along with a 'bingle' noise, every time a wicket falls during a Test and it was really, amazingly surprising that during the second test, every time I looked, it was an Australian wicket falling. For two days it was a succession of little bingles from my pocket and for once England was winning. Sadly for the last two days the bingles have been coming even faster as the tourists do an impression of a dying swan. 

Still it's actually quite comforting for the status quo to be returned, and it lets the Aussies return to their usual pastime of trying to wind up the Englishman about his national side loosing some game or other again. What the colonials fail to realise is that if the English got sad every time one of their sporting teams/heros/hopefuls lost we'd be in a state of total depression almost constantly. The best way to deal with statements like "So the poms are loosing again eh mate, bet that makes ya sick as a green galah" (for that is how everyone speaks here, I've seen Oprah) is to respond with a polite "Of course they are" and smile. This disorients the Australian interlocutor as they have no real concept of resigned failure in sport, what with winning all the time. To be honest a lot of Aussies can't even handle the current (as of today) situation of a tie after 3 tests, some of my friends demand a whitewash or nothing, even though this way makes it actually possible to watch cricket without being totally bored stupid. 

Oh those paragraphs are going to earn me some grief but luckily I really don't give a toss about any sporting event so bring it on (luckily I moderate all the comments on here).

Finally finished getting stuff for the trip today, the most difficult thing was buying a new wash bag believe it or not. They are all massive (like my current one) or microscopic (made for carry on bottles). Eventually I got a North Face one that's like the baby offspring  of one of their full size duffels. I can at least pretend I'm a real adventurer now I own a piece of North Face equipment, more commonly seen going up an Alp or a Himalaya. 

I've come to wonder why all the staff in the shops insist on asking you things when you have quite obviously got earphones in and music playing? Every shop it's the same. I'm just browsing when I sense someone standing just out of my peripheral vision, looking expectant. It's a tiny bit annoying to unplug just to be asked if I need any help. If I need help I'll probably ask for it, all you need to do to the earphoned customer is smile and nod as they walk by. I suppose they are just trying to give good service but really, see the things in my ears? It means I cannot hear you! I'm never happy am I, either too much service or not enough.

I also have a bone to pick with the people who think their Commodore or Landcruiser counts as a "Small Vehicle" in the multistory car parks here. They write that on the wall so that you DON'T try to fit your 5 metre long truck in a 2 metre long space thereby completely blocking the exit from the damn place. Maybe there's a discount for smaller spaces that I don't know about?

I've just realised I've got two passports so it really (and I mean really, really) doesn't matter who wins the Ashes as I can claim to be a proud Citizen or Subject and claim the ashes as my own. That and jumping the immigration queue at Heathrow, the two perks of dual nationality.

Those were the days

I found out a very weird thing today. Apparently until fairly recently there were regular reunions of ex-SS members.

That's the Nazi, murdering, homicidal maniac SS.

I can't quite believe it, though I suppose if the RSL and British Legion have beer and bowls nights for the old soldiers then the Germans must do the same. But really, the SS? Half of them are still wanted war criminals and the rest must surely feel a little embarrassed by their exploits. Perhaps that should be 'hopefully' not 'surely' as I'm not sure at all that they feel any remorse.

I can't imagine what they talk about. I know that lots of people do things in wartime that they would never do in peacetime, like killing the enemy and trying to keep away from the Americans friendly fire, but there can't be many hilarious stories about Zyklon B and Einsatzgruppen to reminisce over.

Apparently these reunions don't happen so much now, but that's not because the authorities shut them down. Most of reunions were in Bavaria (the home of the Nazi party, I say no more) and seemed to go ahead with no bother from the judiciary and police. I make no judgements but it seems a bit odd that no one ever got arrested. Especially when the Danish government and Wiesenthal Centre are still trying to get at some of the attendees.

I understand that they rarely happen now as most of the 'old boys' are dead or incapacitated. Seems like a lost opportunity for justice to me.

I was thinking of something else too, about Copyright. How come if you are an 'artist' or 'creative' you do something once, but then get paid for it for the rest of your life and 70 years after you die?

No other job gets this. I would love to do a filling on someone once and get paid every time time the recipient chewed or spoke. Or plumbers could get paid every time you used the tap they put in.

Can anyone explain why it's like this? Especially the after death bit, that just sounds like giving money to your less talented relatives.

I've had wide ranging day as you can tell.

Christmas is a-coming

So it's two weeks to Christmas, give or take a day or two. I can't quite believe it to be honest, it seems only five minutes ago that I was snowed in in the UK for last Christmas. That makes me sound such a fogie but it does seem true that the older you get the faster time passes.

So I've spent the last few weeks christmas shopping which I thought was going to be made easier by the shopping deregualtion that has finally happened here. At long last shops in Perth can open till 9 everynight. The problem is they aren't.

Well some are, mainly the supermarkets and cheapo variety stores (you know, Kmart and the like) but not Myer or David Jones or pretty much anyone else. In fact it's a bit odd as the massive shopping centres are open but all the shops are shut. It's a bit post-apocalyptic; but with less zombies, just bogans (that might just be Morley). To be honest this isn't particularly surprising as Perth seems to be the only city in the world where the retailers feel that the customers should take time off work to get their groceries and shoes.

Anyhow I managed to get my shopping all done by the beginning of December, which I think is pretty bloody organised, and have even posted it all off. The postage was a bit of a shock though to be honest, one parcel of books cost over $50 to get to the UK. Luckily it's only once a year.

I can tell it's Christmas because of the giant Xmas trees and santa and the music playing in the shops. Actually that's the only way I can tell it's Christmas as I'll never get used to having it when the weather is 35º. I'm sitting here now with the decorated tree with the snow covered ornaments and the airconditioning pumping cold air out so I dont get heat stroke. It's a really weird experience, and after more than ten Aussie Christmasses I don't think it'll ever become normal.

Not that I'll actually be here for Christmas this year, as I've mentioned before I'll be in Vietnam and Cambodia. I've been doing my usual research (well I read a guide book and Wikitravel) and it's hard to get past the whole american war thing. Vietnam is a country, not a war, but you'd never know it from the media available. I've watched so many war films and read so many war novels, it's odd to think there's thousands of years of history before 1968 but you'd be hard pressed to know it. Only the Top Gear Special barely mentions the war. Still the general consensus is that it's a great place to visit, good food, friendly people, beautiful country.

The same doesn't seem to be true of Cambodia. It's a country with lots of problems, and to be honest, given their terrible recent history, it's not surprising. Oh the country is meant to be beautiful and the people friendly but the crime rate is apparently spectacularly high. I was particularly pleased to read about the brick attacks on western tourists. That'll be bricks thrown from moving vehicles at passers by. I thought it was bad enough in Mount Lawley getting eggs chucked at you. Still I'll forgive anything from a people who have been so royally screwed by the west over the years. Guess who the US and UN supported in the Cambodian Civil War in the 70's and 80's? Go on, think of the least likely people who warrant support. That's right, the Khmer Rouge. I can't quite believe this but apparently it's true. The UN let the organisation that killed, at a minimum, 1,000,000 people keep the country's seat on the security council lest the Vietnamese backed Communists get into power. That's a million people. Out of a population of 7,000,000. And they were only in power for 40 months! My mind still reels from those numbers and reels even more from the fact that the West seemed to think they were the good guys! Part of my tour is to the Killing Fields and Khmer Rouge prison camps. I'm not sure I'm going to be able to cope with it as I get pretty upset at War Graves Sites, which I can just about (just) justify to myself. It seems odd to visit a genocide tourist attraction but there you go. Stay tuned for how it goes.

I have at least finally finished stocking up on travel supplies. I was laughed at by work colleagues for my slightly over-stuffed first aid and drug kit but I don't care. I'll have the last laugh when I'm not the one suffering from explosive diarrhoea or hepatitis A. Still not sure if I need malaria tablets though? I've got super strength mozzie repellent (80% deet which I think is probably enough to repel an elephant) but I do tend to be a bug smorgasbord. The only slight problem is the fact that I've bought a tiny backpack, 65 litres in fact, so I'm going to have to travel pretty light. Here's hoping that there's plenty of laundries in south east Asia or I may end up smelling like a traveller. This is not a good thing.

So I'm all ready for Christmas and all ready for my trip, just need to survive the work do and the last week of term. We'll see how we go.

Da Da Diddle Diddle De De Dum Dum

Had a very retro evening last night at the circus with Ben and Liv. I got the text in the afternoon and thought it would be a bit of a giggle to go, but not as funny as everyone else thought it was for some reason. The comments from colleagues and from the other people I asked were all verging on the incredulous (along with a lot of "ohhh, I'm scared of clowns so I can't go"). I didn't think a circus trip was that weird but obviously I'm misinformed.

It was the Circus Joseph Ashton, a family affair that's been going for longer than Australia has. Well since 1851 anyway, which is pretty impressive for one family really. It was a strange evening to be honest, but entertaining, and reminded me how sophisticated the world has become, making things like the travelling circus seem incredibly old fashioned. There were jugglers, clowns (but not too creepy), acrobats dressed like GIs for some unfathomable reason, miniature ponies, dogs in tutus and even performing goats. Well at least goats that climbed on things which isn't really a stretch for goats. No lions and tigers but that's no bad thing, I have no problem with domestic animals being trained to do tricks, after all that's sort of what they are for, nobody complains about teaching fido to play dead.

It kept reminding me of the old Saturday night variety shows we used to get on ITV and the BBC when I was a kid, where there would usually be an act or two from the Moscow State Circus or some other godforsaken eastern bloc hell hole, along with Jimmy Tarbuck and The Black and White Minstrels. It was all a bit melancholy really, especially with the small crowd in the Big Top, to think of all the effort and practice that had gone in to the show only to be seen by few people. I can't imagine that there is much future for this sort of entertainment, which is really sad. No matter how much you think it's lame or old fashioned you have to be impressed by the skill of the family members, I know that I've never spent the evening on the flying trapeze with my mum and dad. What three generations of people raised in spangly tights will do if it goes belly up is hard to imagine. Run away from the circus and become accountants probably.

From all that it might sound like I hated it but that's far from the truth. We had a really good time and you can't complain about $15 for two hours live entertainment, especially when there's the chance of someone falling from a great height. It's difficult to see why everyone thought it was hilarious that I was going to go the Ashton Family Circus when the very same people are paying astronomical prices to see a bunch of lycra clad French Canadians doing the same acrobatics at Cirque Du Soleil.

It may appear to be old fashioned but I really hope the Ashtons survive, the travelling show is an important bit of our history and vital for the people that depend on it for their livelihood. Traditional Circuses are under threat from so many directions, from aninmal welfare nutjobs to wanky French Canadians, so I'd urge everyone to find their nearest one and go give it a visit.

You might even get over that coulrophobia.

A Wry Old Time

Woke up with a weird stiff neck this morning. I mean I have a bad neck most of the time but not enough to stop me looking to the left usually. Not today though. Backing out of the carport was a bit of a challenge, I just had to adopt the Perth method of reversing blindly at high speed and hoping everyone else just got out of the way.

It's been a bit of a nightmare to be honest. I've taken so many pain killers that I should be at least impervious to bullets. I did manage to get in to see the physiotherapist at 4:30 for some treatment. This is not my idea of fun really. Just lots of pain during which he says "now that's much better isn't it". Two things stand out here. Firstly is the leading questions all the time which I was taught that medical professionals should never use. The second is the incredible pain I get put through. If I hurt my patients that much I'd never hear the end of it. At least dentists use local anaesthesia.

The leading questions are probably a good thing actually. You can just agree and he'll stop hurting you.

Apparently my current predicament is called Wry Neck. Ironic names abound in medicine 'cos I don't feel very wry, more fried actually.

So now I'm in bed with a heat pack on my neck and diazepam in my blood. I live such a rock and roll lifestyle.

Back Again

So it's about time I started this thing up again, it'll give me an excuse to stop watching everything that HBO produces and give the TV a rest.

So wassup then I suppose. Well I've just booked a holiday for Christmas, and I mean really Christmas as I leave on the 24th December.

It'll be the first time in quite a while that I am not with my folks in the UK, or they have been over here in Oz, and that will be a bit odd. I think the last time was when I was in Broome in '96 when I met some lovely people at the compulsory hotel christmas lunch (which is a bit weird in itself really, a compulsory, christmassy, turkey dinner. Like a punishment for catholics who've slipped in their faith maybe). They were 'city' types who had dropped out of their lifestyle to travel around the world. The sort of people who gave up millions to live out of a suitcase. Of course it's much easier to do the dropping out if you have shedloads of cash in the bank before you set off but it was still interesting to see how they got sick of all the money and power. I was also away from the family a couple of years ago, but I had had a fake christmas before I came back to Oz so that doesn't really count.

This trip is to Vietnam and Cambodia and it should be pretty good, however it's the first time I've ever really done an organised trip. I hope to god it's not too much "be back for the bus at 2 pm, that gives you a full 20 minutes to explore Ho Chi Minh City". I purposely chose a company that gives you a few days in each place, none of that today's Tuesday so it must be Angkor Wat feeling. And hopefully not too much temple fatigue - an almost fatal disease in asia in my experience.

So far it's been a bit different to all the other places in Asia I've been, even in the organising. For example Vietnam requires you to have a visa, and not only that you have to get it before you arrive, and not only that you can only get it by posting your passport to their Embassy in Canberra so they can stick a label in it. Or of course, as their website says, you can just drop it off and pick it up three days later. This may indicate a slight misunderstanding of the size of Australia. Or they think we all live in Canberra, which is something even the Canberra residents wont admit to. I have to admit it is a bit nerve wracking sending my only proof of citizenship to a foreign embassy, especially one that is communist and proud of it. I wonder how many copies they made of it? It did come back pretty quickly though which is quite impressive. The Cambodian visa you can get online, they email you a label to staple (!) into your passport. I am not expecting this to go without a hitch as it looks so home made it's just laughable. The passport photo I sent them has got a bit squished in the process and I look like I weigh 150kgs. At least I should get some compliments from the border guards on my biggest looser participation.

So all the paperwork is sorted and I've got some money too. For the first time the exchange rate is working in my favour as the Australian peso finally has the power to buy a decent amount of US dollars. Not that I'm planning on spending too many as I am a wicked haggler when in a poor country. I love to wring the last cent out of the impoverished locals. This is not true obviously. When I get to a haggling country I come over all British and just pay what they ask. It's just all too much like hard work otherwise and it's still pretty cheap even if you pay the full price. I am fully aware that this is considered very bad form among the 'traveller' fraternity but to be honest I dont give a toss. At least when I travel I put some money into the local economy, unlike those smug bastards who take great pleasure in the fact that they have travelled all the way from London to Karachi on $4 a day and the smell of an empty Mars bar wrapper. I don't care, holidays are meant to be pleasurable not like being sent to the gulag. This is how all Backpacker Lodges are in my mind. Like One Day In The Life Of Ivan Denisovich.

End on a literary reference, that's class that is.

Food

Just realised that I haven't posted the London to Perth airline food. So, for Tim, here they are;

Chicken and beef satay:

Duck pate and Pork pate:

Pan fried chicken with butter sauce and celeriac and potato mash:

Apple something or other that I've forgotten the name of:

Omelette and huge, suspicious looking sausage;

There were some other bits as well but I was too tired or bored to take pics.

Vegemite Sandwich

You can always tell when you are back in Oz, even with the jet lag, as there's bound to be an advert for Vegemite on the tv. Or a trailer for a miracle cure/shonky tradesman/neighbours at war episode of Today Tonight. And so it was yesterday when I got back. The final flight was pretty uneventful as I slept the whole way from Singapore to Perth, which is a first, but meant that I missed my last delightful airline meal. Actually that's no loss. Even up the front of the 'plane the food is still pretty average, although allegedly cooked up by Gordon Ramsey.

The relief of finally arriving back in Perth after a two day journey was tempered somewhat by the joys of Perth "International" Airport. Firstly there is the queue for immigration control. But I'll give you a tip, if you go through the automatic facial recognition gate, but don't take off your specs, it doesn't work and you get to jump to the front of the regular queue! I knew there must be a use for the passports with RFID chips in them, apart from tracking my every move. After immigration it all went very downhill. Even though I got my bag in about 10 minutes the queue for Quarantine and Customs was beyond a joke. It wove back and forwards for about 100 metres moving very, very slowly. It is a complete farce. The signs everywhere from the Government tell me that "QUARANTINE IS IMPORTANT", but not important enough to pay for more than two scanners and three staff to man them apparently. If this is what people have to tolerate when they first get to Australia then it is a very poor first impression. It took me 40 minutes to get out of the arrival hall after getting my bag and I didn't even have to open my bags or get them scanned. Which is another tiny flaw with quarantine in my opinion, even though I declared the wooden replica of London in my luggage nobody wanted to look at it. Surely a system to stop items entering the country only works if it checks everyone in the same way. Not that would be a good idea in Perth, I'd probably still be there in the queue.

It was nice to get back though. Walking out of the airport at 7 am into 26º heat and sunshine was a tonic after all the snow and ice at home. What wasn't quite so good is the jet lag. I tried to stay up as long as possible yesterday, went for lunch by the beach, but at 3 pm I was totally exhausted and had to crash. Just a couple of hours did the trick and I managed to stay awake till 11pm. I have however now got a stinking, snotty head cold. I hardly ever get colds, now I've had two in two months. It's a bugger to say the least. I have taken to blaming the climate change and being trapped in an aluminium flying tube for 18 hours.

Anyhow I'm back, settled in and restocked with food. That's my next task; to shift the 5 kgs I've put on over Christmas. Wish me luck.

TIme passes

Sorry about the weird justification on that last post, they go like that when you blog by email for some reason.

So how do you kill 11 hours at Changi Airport? Not very easily is the answer. I arrived here at about 2.30 and felt pretty good after a few hours sleep on the plane. In fact I was only woken up by the hideous turbulence over Afghanistan which went on for about an hour. Really bumpy and not very nice at all. Anyhow I landed in one piece in Singapore with all this time to kill. So a shower. That took 20 minutes. Now what, OK, a cup of tea in the lounge. Right, so that's another 20 minutes. Well I suppose I can go into the city.

This is a pretty weird experience, after putting your hand luggage into storage you enter a country with just a passport and boarding pass. It would be great to be able to travel like that all the time, with just the clothes you are wearing. Of course you'd need to be loaded so you could buy a complete new wardrobe in every destination but it's really travelling light. Anyway I went into Singapore, sort of forgetting it's Saturday now. I have never seen so many people here before, it was absolutely packed. I think it's because Chinese new year is coming up and everyone is shopping madly for that.

Suffice to say after about four hours I'd had enough and now find myself back at the airport with a final four hours to get through. Looks like I'll finally have time to see the Terminal 3 Butterly Enclosure and sample everyone of the duty free shops.

Fendi handbag and $600 scotch anyone?

Americans

Why are all Americans at airports so loud? I'm sitting here with three

different groups of Americans arond me and I can hear every word they

put forth on every subject. Loud pontification on everything. They're

not like this when they are home. I've been to the USA many times and

try are nothing but polite and deferential people. It's odd how people

change when they leave their own country. Take the Germans. In Germany

they are polite and well mannered but get them over the border to

holland and they get all loud and demanding. And as for my

compatriots. In the uk they are polite, queue properly and tend not to

walk round the streets in a state if sunburned undress. Get them to

Spain though and it all changes.

I wonder how I change on holiday?

Last Days

Well I'm all packed and checked in, just got to go up to Heathrow in the morning. I'll let you know how it goes from there.

Travel in style

I can recommend the first class carriages on the Great Western railway, very comfy, very quiet and free snacks and drinks. It does cost a bit more, in fact if you book it far enough ahead it costs a huge £6 more. Which when you think how much a cup of tea on the train normally costs having a couple included really covers the cost of the ticket. The train was also ahead of time at every station. I've never heard anything like it, well except in Germany maybe.

Paddington station is a much more pleasant place out side of the rush hour I can tell you. At least you can move about and there is no rush for the train when the platform is announced. This is a very odd and slightly un-British event. Normally people over here are only happy in a queue, but at the station you don't know where to queue as they don't let you know which platform your train is at until about five minutes before departure. This means there is a huge knot of people around the departure board who all suddenly make a rush to the train and form a scrum to get on. Quite a sight I can tell you.

They have moved the statue of Paddington for some reason. He used to sit opposite platform 4 in the middle of everything. Now he's stuck under the stairs by Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Bit of a comedown for the bear that the station is named after. Possibly.

I have also found out that it is a lot easier for me to come back to the UK and work than I thought, in fact the GDC were remarkably helpful for the first time ever. I just have to fill in a 20 page form and give them £460! Still at least I know that my options to return here are still open.

Mind you the weather is making me realise how lucky I am in Oz. This morning we've had fog, rain, sun and snow. And it's only 12.30. I'll be glad to get back to the sun, even though it's 40º over there.

So just a couple of days left then back to Oz. What to do with that time? More chocolate and beer then I suppose.

Owww, me plates!

OK, I think I have destroyed my feet. I've got back in from a walk and I can hardly feel my toes. That can't be a good sign can it? Actually my shoes are a bit destroyed too, all the salt that they have absorbed over the last few weeks in the snow has started to come out and leave white marks on the suede. Bit of a bugger really.

I have noticed a weird thing about the British. Well, many, but one this weekend and that's the British habit of putting up statues of our enemies in the Capital. There's one of George Washington outside the National Gallery for example. Didn't he beat us in a war? Isn't he responsible for the British loosing the American Colonies? Isn't it a bit odd to have a statue of him in the Capital city of the nation he beat? Is there a statue of Winston Churchill in Berlin? Actually there might be but my poor knowledge of history narrows down the examples I can dredge up, but you get my point.

I had fun trying to get round this weekend as half the Tube was shut, including the Circle line and Hammersmith and City, which both run through Moorgate, the nearest station to the hotel. I do sort of know where to go in London on public transport, but as soon as a line is shut it sort of makes things difficult. It also means I have walked a hell of a lot further than I normally would have, but this seems to have made little difference to my excess Christmas flab.

I did the standard tourist thing and went to see a show on Saturday night. As you may know I am not a huge fan of musical theatre, even less so of musical theatre based on movies so the choice could be a bit limited. But since Andrew Lloyd Webbers back catalogue has finally left the stage there are a few plays available without unnecessary singing. I went to see one called The Little Dog Laughed with Tamsin Grieg which was very, very funny. The actors were doing american accents which was a bit odd to start but for once I managed to suspend my disbelief and only spent a short amount of the play trying to work out the lighting rig and set construction. It does slightly destroy the moment when the Tube trains go by but that's pretty normal in central London theatres. There seems to be an unwritten law that the longer a play/musical runs in the West End the more tragic the casting becomes. For example at the moment Hairspray has Belinda Carlisle in it. She's still a bit cool I feel. Later on next month it gets Mickey Dolenz. He is definitely not cool in any way. Metal Mickey excepted maybe. This is why shows should not have long runs. Mind you it does give work to all the old TV personalities outside the panto season I suppose.

I spent a bit of time in the British Museum as well yesterday. It's a great place, but just too huge really to get to grips with. It also seems to have stuff from every country except Britain. I thought I'd be able to get a nice, tasteful souvenir to take back to Oz, representative of my birthplace. Sadly the shop only had replicas of Egyptian gods, Mesopotamian treasures and knicked Greek marbles. Or actually not knicked according to the Trustees of the British Museum and I think they may have a point. In any case it's good to keep them just to annoy another of our European partners.

The Germans should love the British Museum however as the German guide book has the word "Führer" emblazoned on the front in 50 point text. Maybe this was not the best lexicographical choice in hindsight.

See London See The World

Or at least see lots of tourists. So I am finally in the Big Smoke, my favourite place in the world. I don't think there is anywhere else I've been that has so much history and so much going on in such a small space.

The train journey up was uneventful in the end, quick even, although I'm not sure who thought the pale purple and institutional-blue colour scheme on the trains was a good idea. I am staying at a Travelodge on City Road in the City because it is very cheap, £40 a night for central London is very cheap, but it does have a touch of the prison cell about it. Right down to the lack of hot water during the day and the rationing of towels. Obviously you are only allowed one towel and it is ok to let the shower run for 20 minutes before it heats up here. It is also the first place I have ever stayed that doesn't have those little bottles of shampoo and shower gel in the bathroom. It's also the first time I've ever forgotten to bring shower gel with me! Thank god for 24 hour mini-Tesco supermarkets.

I am just down the road from the Barbican, one of my favourite places in London. Most people hate it's concrete brutalism but it's a place I have always wanted to live, and at the moment I actually could, the prices are actually in my range. Well not for one of the three bedroom flats in the Cromwell Tower, they are still £900,000, but the one bed places are relatively cheap. In fact the prices here seem pretty bearable all round. I don't think I've been to London and not blanched at the price of food and drink for a long time. It seems a total global financial disaster has at least made my trip a bit cheaper. I'm sure it will change back to normal after all the bankers get their bonuses. You know, for doing such a good job over the last 12 months. It's no coincidence that Merchant Banker is Cockney rhyming slang.

The only thing that has got a bit pricey is the admission fees for the special exhibitions at the galleries and museums. They all seem to be £11 which starts to add up if you want to see a few. However as the rest of the museums and galleries are all free it sort of evens itself out. I've tried to go to a few places that are less well known this time, mainly to avoid the crowds everywhere else. I can recommend the John Soanes Museum in Lincoln's Inn Fields, which is full of the stuff collected by the eponymous architect. It's amazingly crammed with stuff and also is a rare chance to go into a completely un-touched Georgian town house. He must have been loaded, which just shows that there has always been money in architecture. The other place was a trip to the Royal Institute of British Architects (no, no theme, just a coincidence) which was actually a bit dull but was opposite the Chinese Embassy. Along with the traditional, yet eerily well behaved, Falun-gong demonstration outside I can report that Chinese diplomats drive 10 year old Renaults and have really terrible taste in net curtains.

Just off again now to visit the lovely GDC to see if I'll ever be able to work here again. Wish me luck.

High Flyers

The paper shop at the Station sells the International Herald Tribune.

Must be for all those high powered executives waiting for the 12:15 to

Maesteg...

Trains

I'm sitting waiting for the train at Gloucester station. My gods it's
depressing. Like a white trash and wino convention. Why do these
people use the trains? I means it's not that cheap to travel and where
are they going? Do they all have important business to attend to in
London? A conference to discuss a new formula of Tennants Super perhaps.

It's no wonder that people prefer their cars if train travel is as
depressing as this. I suppose I could sit in the pumpkin cafe and have
a five quid cup of tea but it's even worse in there.

I think the romance of travel is truely dead.

Escape

Well what do you do when you can't get out of your house for four days. Well one thing is to go up the pub with the neighbours. They were almost killing each other from cabin fever from being stuck in the house for so long. It was a pretty slippy trip up the village to the Nag's Head but the fire was going and the beer was still in stock when we got there. One thing that amazed me was how some people were still driving in the snow and ice. Just 'cos you are in a four wheel drive doesn't mean that you won't skid into me and kill me on the pavement. People are morons I suppose.

I finally managed to get out on the 8th thanks to the lovely crew from the Forest of Dean District Council who turned up with a truck full of salt and grit. I think they were only meant to fill up the salt bins but me and two of the neighbours sort of descended on them and sort of forced them into spreading some grit down the lane. I'm sure they got into trouble but I did make them a cup of tea with some choccie biccies. Always feed/water the help, you'll get much better service I'm telling you. I was pretty knackered after going up and down the lane about 20 times with shovels full of grit but it was worth it just to be able to leave the house. The rest of the village did seem a bit pissed off though, as we were cleared and yet the main road through the place was not. Oh well, the privilege of living here for so long I guess.

I was glad we did get the road cleared as I was going up to Warrington near Manchester to meet up with some very old friends and it was looking as though it wouldn't happen right up to the night before. I even left the car at the bottom of the lane in case it snowed again. As it turned out it was fine on Sunday morning when I set off. Not even ice on the windscreen. In fact the drive up the motorway was lovely, there was no snow and there was absolutely no traffic on the road. The only way to travel in my opinion.

It was great to catch up with everyone, we had a nice carvery lunch (which is a very British thing I think) and then sepnt the night at a hotel by the motorway (another very British thing too). The hotel was brand new, big and must have had about six people in it because of the weather. The staff must have been bored out of their minds. The whole day was lovely but reinforced the fact that I never want my own kids. I mean my friends kids are great, but I just couldn't cope with them 24/7. Especially when they are over-tired, over-excited and over-fizzy drinked.

I actually thought I'd be stuck up in Warrington as the weather forecast kept predicting 20cm of snow on Sunday night. They were only out by 20cm as there was absolutely none when I woke up in the morning. In fact there was very little snow left until I got back to Birmingham then it really started to come down again. We are forecast 10 cm of snow overnight so again I have visions of digging the car out tomorrow. In fact I've left it down the road just in case.

If the weather is OK I think I'll head off to Bristol tomorrow as I am going a bit stir crazy here, then it's off to London at the weekend for a few days. I'll just be glad when the weather clears and I know that I can go out and not get stuck on the way back.

See what I mean?

Snow+Cold=Ice

So I should be in London now, checking into the hotel and preparing to go to the BBC for a show recording. Instead I am stuck in the house again as I can't get my car down the lane due to all the snow and ice. It was -10ºC last night and is still -5ºC now at 2 in the afternoon.

I'm pretty pissed off with the neighbours actually. The local Council thoughtfully provides two bins full of road salt at the top and bottom of the lane and these are meant to be used to grit the road so we can all get out. Unfortunately the morons round here, mostly new arrivals from big towns and cities, seem to think this salt is for their driveways. So now we have two inches of solid ice on the road and no salt left. I managed to eek out the last few shovels-full but only got 2/3 of the way to the main road. I did ring the Council and the nice lady there has put us on the list for refilling but I can't see that happening for a few days at least, so in the mean time I am stuck in the house counting the cost of empty hotel rooms.

What is more frustrating is the fact that the main roads at either end of the village are completely clear and the traffic on the motorway to London is almost non-existent so it would have been a lovely trip through the sunny, snowy countryside. All thwarted by 400m of frozen road.

Bloody weather.