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To the Thingimajigger, off on an adventure, this time 6 weeks in France because that Biden geezer won’t let us back into the USA. Any more of it and we’ll cancel their independence.
Off down to Brett’s, a 4.5 hour journey that ends up taking 6 hours. Why Am I surprised. a 44 minute delay on the M6 near Stoke, now there’s a surprise. Emergency repairs to about 10 feet of barrier, not that any of the barrier intruded onto the carriageway. So let’s close off two lanes, cause mayhem while we look at it. I suppose it could easily be left as is with minimal risk or even fixed overnight with minimum hold ups. But no that would be way too sensible and not half as much fun watching the mayhem. Then for some bizarre reason our satnav has decided that going around the M25 is a good idea. That’s the problem when you trust software, you really have to remember most of this shit has been written by a 10 year old with zero common sense, no social skills and still needs his Mummy to tie his shoelaces.
Finally get to Brett and Karine’s for a very warm welcome and a superb barbecue of South African sausage, black puddings, pork ribs and mackerel. Plenty of meat, oh and a few veggies skewers, and my favourite corn on the cob. Am I turning into a veggie? Also not to forget a couple of Jever’s and a bottle of Carmenra. Sleep the sleep of the righteous that night.
Jever, the best beer in the world. Brewed with the Tetnang Hop according to the Rheinheits Gebot by Germans who know a bit about beer. Such a gorgeous dry beer.
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Brett and I are off kayaking down the coast to Climping for a coffee. It’s a grey day and sure enough as we get to the beach it decides to rain. Not to deter intrepid kayakers, we go for it. It rains all the way there and when we stop for coffee the heavens open up for about 20 minutes. Finally slackens off so we set off back. Now Bretts been very good at looking after his Father and helping with the launch into the sea at high tide. It’s really quite flat out there but he manages to push me off into a freak tsunami wave. The damn waves 3 foot tall and my kayak dives into it only to be ripped to one side and eject me. Must be the first time I’ve ever fell out of a kayak – damn open top kayaks – but I live to tell the tale of how my son tried to kill me off.
It rains all the way back. But despite the rain and the attempt to drown me we had a great morning. Surviving an attempted drowning and freak tsunami made it all the more memorable.
After lunch Wendy, Brett and I drive down to Little Hampton for a pleasant stroll along the seafront. Needless to say it’s ceased raining by now. What a pleasant little seaside resort it is. Poor Karine having work on a bid so can’t join us.
Back for roast lamb for tea – well I suppose we’ll have to say for dinner as we’re “Down South”.
Then it’s off to Portsmouth for the overnight ferry to Cherbourg. Check in is just chaos because as well as passports you have to have your statement of honour that you don’t have covid symptoms and a printout of your covid proof of vaccination. Of course there are plenty of numpties in the queue, especially geriatrics, who have neither or have them hidden away safely in the far reaches of their boot. Common sense nil, chaos 10. Who are these lunes. Just proves that we really can’t rely on common sense to help contain covid. We’re doomed.
Finally get on board and it’s straight to our cabin as Noddy’s way past Big Ears so time for bed.
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Arrive in Cherbourg on time at 08:00 as promised. We’re lucky to be one of the first 10 off and French immigration can’t be bothered to see our covid documents, they just want passports.-.hallelua But you can tell times are hard when they only have one date stamp between two of them. Quickly immigrated and 40 minutes later we’re on our camp site ready to set up the caravan.
Oh the joys of setting up our caravan! Takes about 40 minutes to get it fully operational, but then we have the awning.
Go shopping for wine, brandy, cheese, bread and a few other vitals while the grass dries. Drive down to Leclerc at Carantan.
Never mind we have a divorce proof blow up awning, it’ll be a doddle. 50 minutes and a lot of swearing later it’s blown up just needs me on me hands and knees to peg it out. Whose idea was it to take the windows out. Spent 30 minutes getting them back in.
Finally sit down in the sun for a beer followed by my first French wine in over a year. It’s a St Emillion, won a silver medal, and tastes like liquid soil. Wouldn’t even use it to clean drains with. For the first time ever I bin a full bottle of wine. Get me a Carmenera or Zinfandell. Move onto 2nd bottle, pretty good.
Tea is bread, cheeses and wine. Now I know we’re in France.
Nice sunny day.
Filling the 40 Litre water barrel for the caravan is always a lesson in patience and a reminder of how fortunate we are to have water on tap, even if it does take at least 5 minutes to fill it.
Now the scientifically inclined amongst you are probably aware of Pqrkinsons Law of Maximum Perversity, commonly referred to as sods Law, which succinctly stated is “If you push a slice of toast with jam and butter on it off a table it will more frequently land jams die down.”. Now if we assume the buggeration factor is at least 60% of them will land jam side down. Then my addition to the law states that “… the buggeration factor is directly proportional to the age of the person involved.”.
In other words the older you get the more Parkinsons of maximum perversity will screw you over in every way possible. It’s just one of the immutable laws of the universe similar to the laws of gravity.
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Lazy start.
At last agree escape to Park city April, May, July, August and September with Isaac. Same rate a last year. A very obliging chap.
Book virgin flights to Florida for Mid January to endow February (premium ) and April and May (upper class – decide to splash out as it’s two flights).
Another sunny day, temperature just right.
Ok, question for everyone, what are the most famous alcoholic beverages produced in France. I’m sure everyone will say wine, probably closely followed by brandy and then even calvados. So why is it that if you go to the drinks isle in any supermarket there’s isle upon isle of wine, at least an isle of whisky, rum and calvados and yet merely one bottle of brandy – usually Armagnac. Obviously the French drink hardly any brandy. What do they know that we don’t?
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Usual lazy start.
Drive into town for more vitals. What no Aldi. Wow a brand new one right next door to the Mosquitos (Intermarche).Pete and Brenda come round for drinks at teatime. For me it’s beer, wine then an Armagnac. Pleasant evening in the sun putting the world to rights. We’re all agreed the countries gone to the dogs. We need someone to get grip of the snowflakes, wakes and libtards. Sort the illegal immigrants; sort the protestors, no problem with peaceful protest that doesn’t infringe others right; introduce covid vaccine passport to encourage the SS (Stupid and Selfish) to have the vaccination, bring back indoor masks and ban mass events, you don’t need to be a professor of virology to see that these are just sensible measures.
Rabbit stew for tea followed by a snooze while Wendy watches that tripe “Sex Education” – all that talk about sex but not even a glimpse of a naked body. What a swizz.
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Lazy start then off for a drive down to Lessay and then round to the Castle de Pirou – see Trivia below. Paid e7 to get in. Argued with the receptionist that I was unemployed and therefore entitled to the discount. Didn’t win. Typical French it closes for lunch – it’s oh so difficult when you at least 3 staff to arrange lunch time cover.

Interesting old castle with a moat.
Start searching for VRBO’s in Florida. I should have been a travel agent, it’s a full time job. Floridas very full and very expensive 18/1/22 to 1/3/22.
The castle was initially built of wood, then of stone in the 12th century and belonged to the lords of Pirou. It was constructed near the shore of the English Channel, and used to watch upon the west coast of the Cotentin, to protect the town of Coutances and a strategic shallow-water harbour. As the coastline receded, the castle lost its strategic significance, and thus was not militarily upgraded as well as being spared the systematic destruction of fortifications (as seats of power and resistance to central governance) during the French Revolution and its aftermath.
The castle was transformed into Lord Adnan’s penthouse during the 18th century, and then began to deteriorate.
In 1968 the castle was listed in the Inventaire supplémentaire des Monuments historiques by the French Ministry of Culture. Restoration was begun on the initiative of the abbot Marcel Lelégard (1925-1994).
The castle now lies in the middle of an artificial pond. The drawbridge has been replaced by a stone bridge. The curtain walls from the 12th century enclose two residential houses from two different periods (16th and 18th centuries). A barn on the premises houses a locally-made tapestry,[1] in the style of the Bayeux Tapestry, depicting historical events during a very lively period, from the Viking landings in the Cotentin to Norman conquest of southern Italy.
Great to see that the French take Coivd seriously. No vaccination = no passport = no access. Yes, discrimination it’s a consequence of the choice not to be vaccinated. Masks must be worn indoors. All enforced rigorously. Such a small price to pay to help contain Covid, protect one another, and protect the health service from overload. How many are dying unnecessarily because of our lax approach to covid?
No wonder their vaccination rate is now higher than ours and their case rate is lower.
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Never mind have an afternoon coffee, sat outside the cafe in the sun.
It’s an alcohol free night. Sad.
Finalise most of Florida. Expensive Airbnb house, with pool, bikes and kayaks, on a lake in Hudson 19/1 to 29/1; VRBO house on Siesta key, with bikes and kayaks, 29/1 to 5/2; VRBO house in Punta Gorda 15/2 to 1/3. Yes, there’s a gap left to fill, more work.






































Carry on along the Causeway route to Derry. We did intend to walk the walls but it looked such a depressing place in the mist and grey cloud. Drive onto our hotel at Letterkenny, a somewhat overpriced, over-starred, 4-star Raddison Blue – supposedly a 4 star but I think one star had gone over the event horizon and been consumed by a black hole. Room and decor was great and comfortable but after two of those yuppie nespro machines we give up – whoever designed them and can make such a dog’s breakfast of brewing a coffee needs shooting to save gene pool pollution.


The Dark Hedges, awesome and beautiful, especially at 08:00 with no one around. One of the benefits of such an early docking. Just ponder the forethought and wisdom of James Stuart who planted the hedges and yet could not have possibly lived long enough to see them in all their glory. I wonder how amazed he would be to see how popular and beautiful they have become. Sadly such a pity that the usual scrots have been allowed anywhere near, having carved their initials into some of the tree trunks.














What a disaster of a day. Try to book a VRBO in Annecy. Date routine is totally screwed up and then payment gets rejected. Three failed and frustraing attempts, each with 4 software SNAFU’s, as you can imagine the air was blue. As a result of this I left my wallet on the coffee table, so what you may say?
Get to Horn Head and Wendy has lunch and then we take a walk. Near the end of the walk panic sets in as I can’t find my wallet – being a nerd it’s always in the same zipped-up pocket. Has it come out by accident as I retrieve my iPhone? Retrace my 1-mile route among the heather. No luck. Spitting feathers by now, along with a few choice words of recrimination, as I’m not sure whether it’s still at home or has dropped out with we abandon the rest of the trip – not too bad as we probably wouldn’t have wanted to go that much further on. Then retrace our car journey. Of course, I don’t find it at any of the stop-off points because it’s on the damn coffee table – oh to be a geriatric.
Back home for a late afternoon tea and then we drive down to explore Bunbeg beach. I really fancy a Guiness after todays screwup. There’s a famous Irish music pub near the beach according to Apple maps. Wrong, turns out it’s on the main road. It’s closed and may open in a hour or maybe two according to the landlord – it is Ireland, what can you expect.


A really lazy start. Off down to see the spectacular cliffs at Slieve League, reckoned to be the best coastline in the whole of Europe. Pretty impressive, even if it’s a mile walk to see them after being fleeced of £5 to park. Then a drive back up the Wild Atlantic Way. Another long day. After 6 hours on the road, I’m desparate for a pint of Guiness and yet not a pub in sight. Finally we come across a remote pub, and yes they do sell Guinness, and even though the landlord doesn’t know what a barrel glass is he manages to ferret one out for me. Somehow a pint, of no matter what, always tastes better in a barrel glass rather than a girly flower vase. As my Dad used to say “you should never drink half pints, you’ll catch a cold”.






The view of cliffs of Slieve League and Malin Head. Not forgetting a pint of Guiness in a barrel glass.



Joy, start the day with Wendy nipping onto Tesco for a sandwich and a bottle of water. 24 minutes later she emerges. How can anyone take 24 minutes to buy two items, even if you do read the labels and sell by dates.
The trip to Heysham to catch the ferry went without any holdups. Now there’s a first. Efficient boarding. Booked in the Premium lounge on the ferry, all very civilised and comfy. It’s just a four-hour crossing.
Hotel is smart, comfy and the room is very modern, with a separate sitting area. Wifi is a bit tempremental, about 70Mb per sec in the bedroom but only 2 in our lounge. BBC and ITV streaming is dire but Netflix is fine, they obviously know how to write apps that can deal with croissant flaky wifi.

Good breakfast. Kippers for me, but after almost choking on one I seem to have got a smidgen of peppered kipper in my snot channel that brings on a severe bout of hay-fever, sneezing more than an Iguana in a ground pepper factory.
Drive down to Castle Town. Apart from a castle, hence their name, not really much there.
Call at Port Erin, again nothing really to write home about. Only a pizza parlour open for lunch, so its coffee for me and a kids pizza for Wendy. Good job it’s the height of the tourist season or else Wendy may have starved.
The structure was built upon the reef on the orders of Sir William Hillary (who helped to found the Royal National Lifeboat Institution) in 1832. After several shipwrecks upon the semi-submerged rock, he wanted a refuge for survivors until help could arrive. Sir William, who personally contributed a high proportion of the costs, secured a substantial number of public contributions for funding the building. The owner of the private islet was persuaded to give their permission for the refuge. After its construction, the building was stocked with provisions such as bread and fresh water for any shipwrecked persons. The tower originally housed a bell for summoning of help.

Sadly our temple of modernity has no car park so up at the crack of sparrows to move the car.
Lazy morning and then we set off for a drive over to Peel. Lash out £6 each to explore the castle. Have a shufty around the town, nothing much there but manage to find an ice cream parlour that serves coffee and some food. There was a harbour side kiosk that sold Kipper, crab or mackeral baps. Very tempting but having to sit outside at tables, in fear for our life of being blown into the harbour is a tad off putting. It’s grey, over cast, and colder than a witches tit in a brass bra is not my idea of fun.
Drive up the coast to Ramsey. Have a shuffty round but again nothing worth seeing, other than a rusty bridge. Head back home. Another dissappointing day spoilt by a blustery, cold day and uninspiring places.


After another lazy start then we drive up the coast to the Laxey Wheel. The highlight of our trip and the sun comes out, how lucky can we be?
Back to the hotel for afternoon tea.


Then to kill some time before the ferry we set off to explore yet another Neolithic Tomb. Difficult to find and I haven’t the foggiest idea why I wanted to see it, but it was on my list. It’s very remote, a challenge to find and amazingly there are other people there – I think they’re Druids as one of them is lovingly fondling and stroking one of the stones – bizarre.
Back to Douglas to kill a couple of hours – shopping – before it’s time for dinner. Not one of the most exciting shopping precincts. Meander round like two lost turtles. Finally time for dinner in the wine bar again. What a treat one of there specials is half a lobster with Queenies. Sadly I can’t drink as I have to drive but I’m orgasmic as I discover they sell alcohol free Jever, not quite as good as the real McCoy, but what a treat.
Well I suppose we’re glad we’ve been to the IoM but wild Unicorns and free trips to a lap dancing bar couldn’t drag me back.
Cashtal yn Ard (The Castle of the Heights) is one of the best ancient monuments on the Isle of Man. One of three Neolithic tombs, dating from around 2000 BC. It is the best preserved of them all and one of the largest of its kind in the British Isles. The monument was originally a megalithic chambered Cairn (a conical heap of stones built as a monument or a landmark) holding five chambers and extending over 130 feet long. Such sites were used as communal burial places for Neolithic chieftains and their families. A deed from 1795 names the monument as Cashtal y mucklagh y vagileragh (The castle of the field pigsty). It was excavated in the 1930’s and later in 1999. 












Lazy start to the day as it’s raining for a change.
Drove up to Ryde, hardly mentioned in the marketing blurb for the IoW but has free parking, an interesting pier and a diverse range of individual shops.
Up and off before 10:00. These days even Wendy’s up and ready on time. It’s only 20 minutes to the ferry and Red Funnel very obligingly let us catch the 10:30 rather than having to wait until 12:30.
One of the worst aspects of the island is the scummy tap water. You have to scrape the scum off the top and sides of a cup of tea before drinking.

Lazy start to the day as it’s rainin’ like a cow pissin’ on a flat rock.
Drive into Chichester for a shuffle around and get the joys of M&S Food Hall – I’d rather eat my own earwax. Quite a pleasant little traffic free town though.
Brett wanted me to join him for a Turkish shave, haircut and massage. Pass, rather lick piss off a nettle than have some hairy arsed Turkish imposter stroke me arms and kneck. One wrong word and I could have me throat slit.
Then drove into the South Downs National Park and up to the Kingsbrook Vineyard for lunch. Even though it was white – sadly all their wines were white or one Rose – I had a very pleasant Pinot Grigo they had produced. Would have splashed out on a bottle but £19 a bottle is £9 over my limit. 






Usual lazy start to one of the hottest days of the year.
Back home for afternoon tea and then have a stroll to a Thai food festival in the park, but not prepared to pay £4 each just to go in.
After a very French breakfast of croissants. We even have strawberry jam to go on them. Sacrilege, jam or even jam and butter on a French national icon.
Back to Southampton, and a great day out nearly spoilt by traffic jam caused by cars queuing for Isle of Wight ferry (we’ll be in that queue no doubt in two weeks time).

Off to an early start – 10:00. Planning on a day driving around the New Forest.
Then drive back towards Brockenhurst and pitch up our chairs by the river there. Try and have an afternoon tea at the local hotel, but despite enough empty tables to accommodate all of todays illegal immigrants from France they’re not ready for walk-ins, but will be in half an hour if we’d care to go for a stroll. You can imagine my retort and no we won’t be coming back in half an hour. Cricket match is on the village green.
Call in at Beaulieu village but nothing really much to see there.
As recent events show, the SNP government is implacably opposed to the right to free speech, the most essential human right in any democracy. Not only has it forced the Orwellian Hate Crime Bill through, but it has also rejected Westminster’s Freedom of Speech (Higher Education) Bill. Ministers announced that they are in favour of free speech “only if it doesn’t distress or harass others”. A clear indication of just how far they are from recognising basic democratic rights.
Home is clean, modern, spacious and bright. Well stocked with essentials and a welcome pack of basic foods.


The usual lazy start. Weather forecast is for clouds and rain.
Then we take leisurely ride back including a drive around Mythr Tydfel – nothing worth being there. Call in at a NP centre but it’s closed. It’s Wales what can you expect.


Well this is supposed to be the best of the three days so we’re of out early.
Drive down to Talybont On Usk for a tour of some of the many Caerfanell waterfalls in the NP. A pleasant walk and we see three small water falls. Mind you it’s no thanks to the map board at the car park. No North; no scale and no indication that there are two paths. Just a lazy attitude to tourism in the NP, they really can’t be bothered – mediocrity strikes again.
Then we plan a drive down some of the back roads, but thanks to a badly placed Road Closed sign end up 5 miles down a dirt track before finding that it’s this road that’s closed. You really couldn’t make this up.
Back home for afternoon tea and then we wander down into Brecon to have a saunter around the town. Hoping to find a nice pub to sit out and have a decent pint by the canal basin. Alas no really nice pubs. The towns a bit run down but at least has a lot of individual shops. Reminds us of the 1970’s, the land that time forgot.


Brecon Beacons on the A4096. Means nothing to most people but officiandos of the programme “Top Gear” will know its the famous road from the programme, used to test drive some cars. It is rather scenic but only has one hairpin bend. For someone whose driven the 11 hairpin bends up and down to Serfaus in Austria many times this is a real anti-climax.







This story has been told and retold countless times. It centres on Llyn y Fan Fach which nestles beneath the Black Mountain and on locations in the farmed lands below, which can still be reasily identified to day.
As America and France are still closed to us, it looks like we’ll have to settle for a Staycation in the UK.




Then drive down the coast and stop off at most of the little beaches. The roads are single track, would be easier to drive a car through the Kaaba doors, but fortunately there are plenty of passing places. One plus point is that most of the car parks are free for the first 30 minutes. Just enough time to saunter down to the beach, explore, be glad we didn’t have to pay to park and move on.
Finally end up at Milford Haven Marina. It’s been recommended to us but pretty dismal and most of the shops and cafes are shut, not even worthy of a coffee stop. Back home for afternoon tea, followed by some of the beer provided and the rest of that lovely wine.
Off out early. Well, 10:30 is quite a record for us. Heading down to Stacks Rock – no chance, you would end up with a 9mm round in the backside or wiped out by a mortar round, the Army firing range is in use. No chance of visiting the Govan Chapel – built into the cliff face – red flags flying there too. Next head for a walk around the Lilly Ponds – no chance car park full. Let’s drive down to Staypole – no chance the road is closed for repairs. Please, please, pretty please get me out of here and back to Park City with its wide roads; plenty of free spacious parking; no chance of being shot, at least not by the Army; good weather; so much to see and do.






As always I love to try the local delicacies so I’m like a guided missile searching for Oggies. The first shop just sells Cornih pasties, not an Oggie in sight, how un-patriotic and typical. Then the only other shop is a delicatessen with a 15 minute Covid compliance queue. But I’m determined. Finally get in and zoom to the distant deli counter where surprise there’s yet another queue but at least my sensors have spotted just two Oggies. Finally get to order them and are told how lucky I am as they are the last two. On interrogation it seems that they sell out most days about 11:00 but haven’t yet had the wit to figure out to provide more – lost opportunity cost. You really cannot make this dozy apathy up. Just typical of the lack of enterprise in the UK. Get me back to the good old USA where at least the mighty dollar, the American dream and capitalism reign supreme.
There’s some amazing and really clever software out there but in nearly every case it is spoilt by a poor Human Computer Interface (HCI), bugs and a lack of common sense.
Prompt start to the day, that means we’re out by 10:30. While we get ready and motivate Wendy, Jasper plays on iPad and Switch, sometimes both at the same time. We seem to spend all our time charging up his devices. Trying to tease him off the iPad to go out is a nightmare, yet once he’s out he loves it.
Wow, is it expensive? £65 for a day at a theme park. This is no Disney but has plenty of rides and things to do for Jasper. Weather is gorgeous, but you forget how tiring it is just walking around, queueing nad having to go on some pewk inducing rides. Good thing about this park is it has some imaginative play areas for kids of all ages. We can sit and have our picnic whilst Jasper burns off more nergy. By mid afternoon the queues are getting intolerable. 15:30 time too escape back home.
For dinner we’re off to The Wheatsheaf at Edith Weston, home to the best ribs ever in my experience. Bearing in mind I’ve experienced ribs all over America and yet these are still the best. We meet Dave and Joyce at the pub. Rest of the foods pretty good it was just the 1 hour wait, slower than a herd of turtles stampedin’ through peanut butter, that spoilt it.
A lazy start today. How unusual.
Off up to Nottingham. Visit my mum and dads grave to put some flowers on. As Jasper says, “it’s sad”. Then go to look for a playground and a stones throw from the dead centre of Nottingham is a superb little playpark with some really imaganative equipement on. We have our picnic lunch whilst Jasper enjoys himself.
Jasper is so excited and so enjoys two games. Pity about the appalling customer service and the lying bitch of a manager who has no concept of customer service, the reviews were right.
A pleasant evening in watching more Sons Of Anarchy and Jasper finally gets to play with Oren.

The wokes and do gooders have scored yet another home goal. Recent article from WSJ:
Weathers a tad dodgy today with the possibility of some rain but at least still warm.
It’s raining for the picnic so we have it in the car overlooking Rutland water. Then Wendy takes him to the bug zoo. He really enjoys it and has taken loads of photos to show me. Head to the adventure play ground for an hour. We were going to play crazy golf again but the weather’s a tad unreliable, Jasper’s quite happy to go home and play with Oren. Easily pleased.



Then it’s a fairly uneventful journey up the M1 with a stop for MacDonalds of course. Amazed at the M1 nearly 4 lanes all the way and even more amazing is the lack of roadworks. Jasper takes the journey in his stride and has he can see the satnav not a single “are we there yet?”.
Not yet another request for a meter reading.



















































