The Spirit of Christmas

The 21^st December 1988 seemed like just another cold winter’s day. The STV regional news programme was on in the background, reporting on a meningitis scare in Lanarkshire, highlighting that they would offer further updates later that evening. The regional news programme made a return to our screens around an hour later, only with a surprise report that a plane had crashed on the town of Lockerbie, the initial account inaccurately suggesting onto a petrol station. Shortly afterwards, this was followed by an ITN newsflash and pictures emerged of this quiet little down being engulfed in a sea of fire that had come from the sky. These simple reflections are seen through the prism of a then 10 year old mind but there was the sense of horror and that things had changed.

The disaster was the biggest act of terrorism on British soil and 270 people lost their lives and was orchestrated by Lybia. In the midst of the carnage, people went to check on loved ones and neighbours. Lockerbie resident and Social Work Assistant, Jasmin Bell was visiting her brother that night as they saw the doomed Boeing 747 fly low over the house and the fuselage land on Sherwood Crescent. Their instant reaction was to get some people together to assist in rescuing people, noting that most of their neighbours were elderly. Jasmin continued to assist locals in the context of her day job in helping them gain information on loved ones and retrieve essentials from their ruined homes. On the hillside above the town, some locals found the cockpit of the Pan-Am jet with bodies lying around. Jasmin Bell poignantly observed:

“The whole experience had a big impact on me and on how I view life - just as I believe it had for most Lockerbie folk and the many people who helped in the aftermath of the disaster. It brought out the best in Lockerbie folk, helping out and showing concern for each other Life goes on – Lockerbie survived”.

The process of rebuilding lives brought together townspeople and families of victims, many of whom are still in contact today. The 25^th anniversary commemorations took place in the town, Westminster Abbey and in Arlington Cemetery in Virginia. In London, the leader of the victims group, Dr Jim Swire encouraged everyone to pray for the innocent family of Abdelbaset Ali Mohmed Al-Megrahi, the only person convicted of the bombing and that those who have wrestled with hatred will be healed by God’s love. He also asked that people pray for those families where they sit down at a Christmas table with a place forever empty and that may find peace. Triumph in the face of adversity and reconciliation can certainly be seen in the story of Lockerbie as it can in the gift of that first Christmas.

In November of this year, the world was shocked by the devastating natural disaster that occurred in the Philippines, Typhoon Haiyan. The UK diverted its Aircraft Carrier, HMS Illustrious to assist the aid efforts, supported by a Type 45 destroyer, HMS Daring. HMS Illustrious carries several helicopters to drop aid and both ships delivered over 300 tonnes of food and aid to the disaster zone, helping over 50,000 people to get some much needed supplies. This deployment meant that the crews would not get home to see their own families at Christmas. In addition, there were churches and charities all over the UK who distributed aid to those in need. The work of those from Non-Governmental Organisations and our brave servicemen and women in this stricken area sum up the spirit of generosity and sacrifice associated with this season.

The favourite Christmas Carol, Good King Wenceslas, reminds us of our responsibilities to the poor. This hymn does not make any direct reference to God or Jesus Christ but instead discusses the reaction of a 10^th century Bohemian monarch seeing a poor man battling against the elements, gathering fuel to keep his family warm in a harsh winter storm.

After enquiring of his Page about the peasant, the King is stirred to action:

"Bring me flesh and bring me wine

Bring me pine logs hither

Thou and I will see him dine

When we bear him thither."

Page and monarch forth they went

Forth they went together

Through the rude wind's wild lament

And the bitter weather”

The song then describes the unyielding determination of the monarch to not give into the punishing conditions in his quest to deliver the lifesaving food and warmth to the peasant. The final verse issues a challenge:

“Therefore, Christian men, be sure

Wealth or rank possessing

Ye who now will bless the poor

Shall yourselves find blessing”

The words of the Carol may be atmospheric but epitomise the meaning of Christmas. The message of helping the poor firstly mentions the wealthier members of society but the full lyric “wealth or rank possessing” arguably opens up the duty of care to a much wider range of people. We also shouldn’t forget that throughout the hymn, the monarch was assisted by his trusty Page in his humanitarian outreach.

Just as the first weekend of Advent was about to commence, the city of Glasgow was rocked by the shocking disaster of a Police Scotland helicopter crashing into the Clutha Vaults pub in the city centre. The disaster cost 10 lives, three of whom were in the helicopter and the other 7 were revellers in the pub. It would’ve been understandable for people caught up in the chaos to go into survival of the fittest mode, instead footage emerged of people forming a human chain to help the injured to escape. In the aftermath, there was also tales of kindness towards those affected by the tragedy. This included an appeal fund that raised over £220K in around 2 weeks from business and private individuals, Glasgow’s main taxi company offering to transport relatives of the injured for free if they needed to visit their loved ones and a benefit gig for the victims, where participating celebrities gave their time for free. Such qualities are in keeping with the character of the city but also demonstrates the Christmas message of doing good to all mankind.

Last Christmas Eve in Sheffield, Maureen Greaves waved goodbye to her husband Alan, who was making his usual visit to play the organ at St Saviour’s church. Alan was never to reach his destination as he was savagely beaten and left for dead by two thugs near the railings of the local park and succumbed to his injuries on the 27^th December. In these circumstances, it would be understandable to feel a sense of hatred towards the killers. Remarkably, the grieving widow has said that she forgives them and encouraged everyone to pray for them. On Christmas Eve this year, St Saviour’s church will hold their Carol service in the open air at the spot where their organist fell. At this service, a new carol called The Bethlehem Star by Bob Chilcott, who was deeply moved by the tragic death of Alan and felt compelled to write the hymn in his honour.

In her 2012 Christmas message to the Commonwealth, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth 2, appraised some of the meaning of the traditional Christmas story:

“This is the time of year when we remember that God sent his only son 'to serve, not to be served'. He restored love and service to the centre of our lives in the person of Jesus Christ”

She also commented on the spirit of togetherness at the scene of the nativity on that first Christmas with that young family and the shepherds who came to worship following the angelic vision on the hillside. The qualities of togetherness and serving others are transmitted to us in the humility of that nativity scene. In our world, we often put ourselves first but Her Majesty’s observation reminds us that we need to put others first and consider what we can do for them as much as we do for ourselves. Indeed, the Socialist protest singer, Billy Bragg, says in his song, Do Unto Others:

“In the Bible, we are told

God gave Moses in the days of old

Ten great commandments

For his people to hold true.

But the greatest commandment of all

Is in the book of Luke as I recall.

Do unto others as you would have them do to you”

This song was not written as a religious or Christmas song but the central theme helps us to understand our responsibilities to our fellow man.

There are many festivities associated with the Christmas season but the core scriptural message of peace, love and a fresh start with God mean that this event is much more than the son of Satunalia. All of the diverse stories in this blog show the qualities that the spirit of Christmas did not end with that remarkable night in a stable in Bethlehem, but the legacy of that night burns brightly in the heart of mankind today.

Bruges Revisited

In the midst of the round of festive activity in December, the Advent season does not seen complete without the annual pilgrimage to a continental Christmas market. Just like last year, it was again the turn of Bruges in West Flanders on an excursion with Oak Hall Expeditions.

This trip was a perfect opportunity for a reunion with Dave and Steve from the Sweden cycling holiday. The lads decided that the best inspiration for the trip was to watch the film In Bruges with Colin Farrell on the night before departure, the sole rationale appearing to be that the name of the city is in the film title. This had parallels with the comedy series, Father Ted, when the eponymous hero and friends face a difficult issue then sit down to watch The Poseidon Adventure for some inspiration, reasoning that Gene Hackman plays a priest in the film.

The excursion started at 0800 on Saturday morning at familiar Oak Hall meeting point near Sevenoaks in Kent. It was also an opportunity for the tour company’s imposing new Van Hool Astromega TX27 coach to pay a visit back to its homeland. Whenever the slightly sneering quiz question is asked about naming some famous Belgians, The Clog will always have a place for the name of Bernard Van Hool alongside Eddy Merckx, John Claude Van Damme and that President of the EU Council who no one ever remembers.

The journey itself was very smooth and straightforward, taking the familiar route down to Eurotunnel at Folkestone. There were over 80 people on the coach and I sat with Steve down at the front of the upper deck. Unlike my previous coach journey with Steve, he had mellowed somewhat and didn’t mention England’s 1966 world cup win until we had passed the Belgian border. Dave ended up looking like a coach travelling version of Austin Powers as he took his seat alongside an assortment of ladies on the back seat. I also noticed that in among the gathering on the coach was someone who looked as if he was a facsimile of Marcus Mumford, frontman of Mumford and Sons.

On arrival, we were in agreement that going somewhere for a spot of lunch and we chose a restaurant in the main market square, Restaurant La Civiere D’Or. This venue was famous for the fact that it was visited by Hollywood superstar, Audrey Hepburn. This was something that the restaurant didn’t like to mention apart from the fact that her signature was on every table mat. I opted for Mussels, a signature dish in the city. The dish was garnished with a creamy, white wine sauce and served in a large pot with a lid that doubled as a disposal point for empty shells. Eating mussels can be a labour intensive process as it is recommended that you use the previous empty shell to prize out the mussel from the full shell. This prompted one of our group to wryly observe that mussels were like a meal and an activity.

 

 

 

Many of our group chose the Flemish stew option which created a talking point as the restaurant used to prepare this with beef but curiously had scored this ingredient off the menu. Steve also ordered a glass of Hoegaarden blonde beer which curiously was sold only in small or medium quantities. When the medium glass of beer arrived, we were astonished to see that it was almost the size of Steve’s head, this fact gave us concerns that he may face liver problems.

Following the trip to the restaurant, there was an opportunity to stop in main Christmas market for a cup of Gluhwein and a delicious crepe with Nutella and cream. The Christmas Market is in Markt square, the beating heart of the city. Inspite of Belgium being the home of EU government, there was little evidence of competition barriers being broken down as every stall had the same pricing for their tasty treats.

 

 

We then headed out of the square and down to one of the many canals that contribute to the ‘Venice of the North’ accolade enjoyed by the city. A 35 minute boat trip round cost a reasonable €7.60 and covered 5km of waterways around the centre of the city. The waiting times for a place on a boat were around 15 minutes and as we waited, it was a good opportunity to shoot the breeze with the others. During these chats, one of our group revealed that she had once accidently taken a lost dog to a dinner party. This revelation certainly wins a random stories ‘top trumps’ contest although probably also makes her the Come Dine with Me contestant from hell.

The first part of the journey took us past the city belfry and up towards the picturesque Jan Van Eyck Square, where a statue of the Flemish Primitive painter stands. We then turned back down the canal and past the imposing structure of the Church of Our Lady and further down to the city brewery. The city looked equally as impressive in the twilight of evening as it did in daylight. Alongside the banks of the canal, there were many impressive townhouses in the traditional Dutch architectural style. The guide told us that some of the houses that we sailed past had been recently sold, prices he quoted ranged from €800K to €3m. We were told that this was much better value than Amsterdam, where similar properties have been sold for up to €12m.

 

 

 

 

A trip to this city is not complete without visiting at least one of the many chocolatiers. We went to Stefs which was near to the main market square. One shop nearby seemed to adopt the tactics of the child catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, by standing at the door offering the opportunity to try some of their delicious wares completely free. This had the desired effect as some of our group parted with some more Euros to feed their chocolate habit. This shop also sold the delicious artisan marzipan that is popular in Benelux.

It would seem rude to visit Belgium and not sample some beer.  With over 180 breweries in the country, there is no shortage of choice. The boys had done some extensive research on pubs in the city centre and found one that stocked over 400 varieties of beer. There was an extensive wooden covered menu on each table cataloguing the extensive inventory of nectar that was held within the vaults of the pub. Unfortunately, Dave and Steve seemed to run out of ideas and resorted to asking the waitress for some recommendations even though she was smaller than some other drinkers’ beer guts. The easy to drink cherry beer, Kriek, was favoured by two of us and the other side of the table favoured the waitress sponsored option of a locally brewed beer.

 

The city has a heritage dating back to the 12^th century, around 700 years longer than the country of Belgium. Bruges possesses an easy charm and warmth with its colourful buildings and canals. There is an air of grandeur around the city with the perfectly preserved medieval structures but in a more unassuming rather than suck-up, overpowering manner. It is this sort of accessible majesty that has captured the hearts of millions of visitors and compels them to return time and again.

 

 

 

 

 

Nelson Mandela - Life and Legacy

The world learned of the news that the great South African freedom fighter turned President, Nelson Mandela had passed away following an extended period of poor health. This edition of The Clog will assess his life and legacy.

It was expected that Mandela’s life would be working as an advisor to a tribal king and his education was geared towards this end through going to a good private school then taking a Law degree. It was during his student years that he became politicised, citing the fact that it was a thousand petty injustices against his people that pushed him in that direction.

He showed enterprise in setting up a Legal practice with Oliver Tambo and this was overwhelmed with work from the black community in Johannesburg. His legal expertise helped to make him a prominent figure in the African National Congress (ANC) and was also put to good use during the time when the ANC was outlawed, with regular banning orders issued to key people. He was also one of a small group of ANC people put on trial for treason, with proceedings lasting for several years before the charges melted away. Following this trial, he went into hiding for an extended period of time before being caught and put on trial in a new treason trial that would cost him freedom for 27 years.

Mandela was something of a totem pole for the left wing elements of the political spectrum. He was very well read in the works of Marx. It would be simplistic to consider him to have Communist leanings but was arguably an early exponent of “big tent” politics that modern centre left leaders like Tony Blair practiced. His vision was to have an African style of capitalism that may require some nationalised industries but create a climate where people could have the freedom to set up their own businesses and trade. During his stirring closing speech in the Rivonia trial of 1963-64, he spoke of his respect for parliamentary democracy, citing the UK parliament and US Congress as models of government that he respected. He was eventually released in 1990 follow a great amount of international pressure.

A ground breaking moment occurred in 1993 when he and F W De Klerk were jointly awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. This cemented his journey from outlaw to international statesman. One of the more poignant moments in his first autobiography, Long Walk to Freedom, he spoke of the feeling of being able to cast a vote for the first time in his life at 75 years old, mentioning that it felt like people like Oliver Tambo and Bram Fischer, who had died in the struggle for democratic freedom in South Africa, were with him in spirit in the voting booth.

After being voted in as president, Mandela formed a coalition government of national unity that was meant to represent all of the people of the country. He was keen to stress that he saw the diverse ethnic groups of the nation as one people marching together into the future. This was in contrast to the more militant influences who spoke of driving the whites into the sea.

Mandela’s presidency was arguably greater for its symbolism than its economic and social achievements. Arguably, one of its most iconic moments was he presented the South Africa captain, Francois Pienaar with the Rugby World Cup in 1995 when the nation hosted and won the tournament. President Mandela wore a Springboks jersey and cap at the presentation rather than the formal attire usually worn by dignitaries.

 

There was some difficult circumstances faced by the Mandela administration including massive unemployment and 20% of the population living below the poverty line. He did adopt liberal economic policies and attract foreign investment.

Some criticisms of his time in office included a perceived softness on corruption scandals and not enough emphasis on combatting the scourge of HIV/AIDS that had ravaged the African continent. The latter of these were more robustly addressed after Mandela left office, he addressed a conference in 2000 and noted that Aids is wiping out the development gains of past decades and sabotaging the future, calling attention on something to be done as a matter of urgency and noting that history would judge harshly otherwise. His philanthropy work outwith political office arguably had a greater impact on helping the disadvantaged than when he held the presidency.

Following Mandela’s passing, the current South African president, Jacob Zuma, said that South Africa had lost its greatest son and the people have lost a father. He is often considered as something of a saint, noting in his second autobiography, Conversations with Myself:

“One issue that deeply worried me in prison was the false image I unwittingly projected to the outside world; of being regarded as a saint. I never was one, even on the basis of an earthly definition of a saint as a sinner who keeps trying."

His pilgrimage through life arguably took a similar route to patriarchal figures in Old Testament history like Moses who became concerned for the welfare of exiled Israelites after a cushioned upbringing, then went through the hot-headed firebrand stage to distinguished elder statesman.

Nelson Mandela’s commitment to the struggle to racial equality came at great personal cost but his perseverance and ability to endure in the face of oppression helped to break the dreadful Apartheid structures that shackled a nation’s hopes and dreams. Crucially, his legacy of forgiveness and willingness to work with the people who imprisoned him are a shining testament of the biblical commandment to love thy neighbour. It is now up to the South African people of all ethnic groups to take continue to build on those foundations that were laid by Mandela to ensure a peaceful and prosperous future for all in the Rainbow Nation.

 

In Flanders Fields

On June 28^th 1914, the world learned of the news that Archduke Franz Ferdinand of the Austro-Hungarian Empire had been assassinated in Sarajevo by a Serbian terrorist. This event caused Austria to declare war on Serbia a month later. Following this, an unstoppable momentum towards a larger conflict gathered with allies of Austria and Serbia falling in behind one another to join the conflict. The UK joined the conflict after the Germans ignored an ultimatum that their army should withdraw from Belgium.  The armies met in the West Flanders region and fought five of the bloodiest battles in the history of humanity, making a mockery of the wisdom of the time that believed it would all be over by Christmas 1914. As we approach the 100 year anniversary of the Great War, it was a good opportunity to visit Flanders and explore some of the areas where the horror took place.

Our coach left early on Saturday morning and during the journey, we saw two video documentaries of WW1 in colour. These helped to set the scene for the day ahead, featuring interviews with veterans of the war, new angles on war zone footage and extracts from letters from the front line. One of the participants in the video was Harry Patch, acknowledged to have been the longest surviving “fighting Tommy” who lived until the age of 111 before peacefully passing away in 2009. He recalled the chilling tale from the battlefield of Passendale where a soldiers’ upper torso was riddled with bullets and asking colleagues to shoot him. He was to succumb to his injuries seconds later with his last word being “Mother”.

Patch also told of his pride in serving King and country but also recalled that he recalled that the 6^th commandment was “Thou shalt not kill”. His resolve was tested on the battle field when he was faced with a German soldier and he shot him in the leg to immobilise him but didn’t kill him. This really brought home that ultimately, the soldiers of all sides were made up of ordinary working men with feelings who were brought together to fight one another. As our journey progressed along the French autoroute, I also noticed the port city of Dunkirk, reminding me of meeting a gentleman called Stan from Langley who fought there in WW2, his resolve impressed me as he recalled the words of his commanding officer who told them that they should “fight, fight and fight” again.

When we crossed the border into Belgium, our first port of call was the area of Zonnebeke which is made up of several small villages, the most famous of which is Passendale, a name that has become a byword for brutal slaughter. A museum is dedicated to the World War 1 battles to secure the ridge around the municipality. There were many exhibits of artillery, uniforms and artefacts including items from the early chemical warfare. The centrepiece of the exhibition was the reconstruction of a WW1 trench and deep dugout. There was a massive network of trenches around the Ypres Salient, an area where the fighting was at its fiercest on the Western Front.

 

The focus on trench warfare brought to mind the final episode of classic BBC comedy Blackadder Goes Forth, when the main characters go “over the top” for a death and glory charge in the battlefield but they all fall one by one then the battle scene gradually morphs into a field of poppies.

The next stop was the famous Tyne Cot cemetery that sits outside Passendale, on the ridge that the Allied Forces were trying to take from the Germans. The area had the nickname of "passion dale" on account of the massive suffering experienced here. Having visited the area surrounding the battle of the Somme a few years back, I had become familiar with the Commonwealth war grave sites and the horror stories of the Great War. It is fair to say that nothing can prepare you for the tsunami of emotion of pride, gratitude and grief that will be experienced at the site of row after row of white gravestones, imposing cross monument and vast wall of remembrance at the Tyne Cot site. The WW1 poet, Siegfried Sasson wrote the words “I died in hell, they call it Passchendaele”, these words may have been true of the fields of mud, blood and artillery fire, though almost 100 years on it is a place of peace and tranquillity.

 

There was a little visitor centre outside the cemetery, where the names of the fallen and their ages were being read out over the speakers. As we listened to the announcement against the backdrop of the thousands of gravestones, the first verse of the great hymn of remembrance, I Vow to Thee, My Country, came to mind:

I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,

Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;

The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,

That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;

The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,

The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.

The majestic and haunting scene where we stood gave us confirmation that the dearest and best of our nation were laid on the altar and asked to make the ultimate sacrifice in those dark times, allowing us to enjoy peace and freedom in our own generation. This visit also offered a good opportunity to pay tribute to two soldiers from the North Ayrshire town of Kilwinning. The names of Private William Marshall of the 16^th Battalion of the Royal Scots and Private William McCulloch of 2^nd Battalion of the Royal Scots Fusiliers are listed on the local cenotaph but also feature on the vast wall of remembrance at Tyne Cot.

 

Our final leg of the trip involved a trip to the centre of Ypres itself, now more commonly known by its Flemish name of Ieper. Like many Belgian cities, the centre of the city is the Groete Markt, an area that is the administrative and civic heart. The first thing immediately noticeable is the imposing Cloth Hall, a building that traces its origins back to the time when the city was a major hub in the cloth trade. The Cloth Hall was almost totally destroyed in the bombardment of the city but work started again in 1921 to restore it to its former glory.

 

There was an excellent WW1 museum in this building covering the period from before the war through to the post-war rebuilding process. There was an interesting display of WW1 memorabilia from old uniforms, like the examples of this French officer uniform and the Canadian Black Watch uniform complete with its own tartan.

 

 

We were given a poppy wrist band that helped to unlock some additional online content at each display area although is also a nice remembrance momento to wear at this time of year.

 

Following a walk around the main square, I then headed to Menin Gate, a large memorial to the Fallen who have no known grave. This is located to the east of the city centre and covers soldiers from all areas of the British Commonwealth, with 54,986 names in the hall of memory. This also offered the opportunity to find the names of other soldiers from my home county. It was a privilege to pay respect to men like Private David Willis of the 1st Battalion of the Royal Scots Fusiliers only a few days short of 99 years since his passing. In addition, Private James Maxwell of the Gordon Highlanders and Richard Maxwell Dyet, a driver with the Royal Field Artillery fell in the first battle of Ypres in 1914.

There was also time to pay respects to Private Andrew Love of the Canadian Infantry and Private John Muirhead of the Gordon Highlanders who perished in the second battle of Ypres in 1915. A moment was also taken to pay respect to James Wilson, a 2nd Lieutenant with the Royal Scots Fusiliers, this young man was of the same regiment as William McCulloch from the Tyne Cot memorial and both perished on the same day in Passendale. All of these men mentioned by name were the lost sons of North Ayrshire and they died along with thousands of other brave men from all over the Commonwealth including soldiers from the Sikh regiments immortalised in the hall of remembrance.

 

 

 

The scale of sacrifice and suffering in the Great War should be a warning that we can't allow the world to reach such a crisis point ever again. The modern city of Ypres has risen from the ashes of those apocalyptic scenes from a century ago and is a major hub in the region. The city labels itself “City of Peace”, an accolade that would’ve seemed unthinkable in those days of infamy and a fine tribute to all those young men whose remains lie under the green and lush fields of Flanders.

 

 

Kent Cycle Weekend

Following the resounding success of the Swedish cycle holiday, I decided to book a cycle and walking trip with Oak Hall holidays. This took place in Kent and the main base for the trip was the sprawling Otford Manor complex. There are many activities take place here through the year, such as Christian retreat weekends, seasonal parties and outdoor activities weekends at different times of the year. The Terrace Lounge offered a panoramic view across the local area.

The Oak Hall staff are made up of a small core of salaried staff and also a large number of volunteers, usually like students on a gap year. I received a warm welcome from the staff when I arrived and instantly felt at home. We gathered in the large dining room for a meal of baked potato with chilli and salad. Dave and I started to get to know the group at dinner and were sitting with 4 of the ladies who were on the walking tour. The small group consisted of two ladies who were Legal secretaries and two who were Librarians. The dominant personality in the group was very chatty and excitable. We exchanged stories about our holidays with Oakhall and explained that our friend Steve was ill and couldn’t come on the trip. This led to him being branded as “Lurgy Steve” by some of the ladies. Dave and I did intend to rebuke them for this disrespect to our fallen comrade but somehow decided that this did seem like a suitable nickname.

The dessert course of chocolate pudding proved to be more appetising than the main course. As is the custom on Oak Hall holidays, there was a quiz evening. Dave and I were quite bullish following our quiz success on the Swedish holiday. We were joined by several others in the group, including an older gentleman who was polite but a little hard of hearing. It is not the policy of this blog to identify people against their will, but as he had quite a rasping voice, we shall call him Zippy.

It was clear that Zippy was an enthusiastic team player who had a real talent for identifying answers to questions with 20:20 hindsight, usually about 10 seconds after someone had said the answer to our note taker. He also lacked the strategic nous needed in group quiz scenarios as team members would whisper or grab the answer paper and write something down to prevent competitors gaining an advantage, but this would be undone by Zippy who would blurt out whatever was written down.

We also had the inevitable Mr know it all in the team, someone with an overbearing certainty of their total righteousness in all things general knowledge. Unfortunately, this proved to be totally misplaced as he argued for the wrong answer on the year that the first test tube baby was born. Naturally, he was overruled him when he forcefully tried to tell us that Martina Navratilova won 11 Wimbledon singles titles instead of 9. The combination of intellectual ballast and gravitas brought to the table by Dave and your Clogger’s seemingly endless capacity for knowing a lot of useless facts proved to be irresistible, spurring on our team to victory and keeping up our 100% record in quizzes. Indeed, we were so good that we were right even when the quiz master said we were wrong as on guessing the longest book of the bible. The official answer was the Psalms but I had written down that the book of Jeremiah was the longest book as it had more words, which is indeed the right answer. This incident shows the need for the quiz equivalent of Hawkeye in tennis.

The evening ended with some free time in the main lounge which set the scene for Dave to produce his party trick of the card game. The game of choice was Dobble, where particpants have to do picture matching. After building up the event at dinner time, we had a gathering of several excited competitors. There are different variations of the game including some that involve trying accumulate as many cards as possible to others that involve trying to force your cards onto other competitors. As the evening wore on the games of Dobble seemed to become more violent than an Australian Rules football match.

Rather than staying at the Manor, I was lodging with my friend Dave, who lived a few miles away in the popular commuter town of Sevenoaks. The rather posh local community magazine noted that the town has an average house price of over £425K and 4.5% of the population are millionaires. This is mainly due to banking industry workers deciding that they want to escape to the country. The affluence of the town was evident with the presence of a Bentley and Lamborghini showroom near to the railway station.

The next morning we set out for the Manor, stopping off at the supermarket for Dave to purchase a cycle helmet since he had misplaced his normal one. He figured that he could just keep it in its packaging as a spare and hopefully borrow one from the cycle shed at Oak Hall. After finding a cycle helmet in the shed, the plan to return the new helmet for a refund was quickly jettisoned when the new girl in the group realised that she had forgotten her own head gear. Dave managed to remove the packaging more quickly than the Red Bull F1 pit crew doing a tyre change and assist the damsel in distress.

 As we left on our journey, I set out on a nice Specialised full suspension mountain bike but completed the journey on a more user friendly Cube mountain bike after a temporary problem with the gears on the first bike. In our group, there was a diverse range of characters including cycle bore. This particular individual can be found on many cycle trips and are easily identifiable as they will talk a good game by using professional cycling terminology and discuss the importance of locking on to the wheel of the person in front. There were a few references to The Tour as he clearly had an encyclopedic knowledge of the sport that began with Bradley Wiggins and ends with Chris Froome. There were moments when our cycle bore was caught out such as when he had to push his bike up some of a 20% gradient climb but it was made clear to everyone several times that this was because he couldn’t select the “granny gear”.

During the cycle, we learned that the new girl had cycled from London to Istanbul, transiting through countries like Romania, where she carried a stick to ward off wild dogs. It’s fair to say that she probably encountered more rabid dogs from among our group than in all of Transylvania. The group had a bit of a delay when our leader’s bike developed a chain link problem, forcing him to call back to base for assistance. He gave the satellite navigation system to Dave and he led us for the last 4 miles of the first leg of the journey.

We arrived at our rendezvous point which was the café at Trosley Country Park, where we discovered that one of the staff sounded very much like Miss Crabtree from South Park¸ when she became angry. After staying for around 45 minutes, it was time to set off back on a 21 mile trip to Otford Manor with our leader having now returned. The group halved in size on the return journey as other opted for a gentler cycle back, one of the dropouts notably being cycle bore. We set off from the country park, heading off down a small track then down the side of a flight of stairs before hitting speeds in excess of 30 mph on a steep downhill section. We were able to make good progress now that some of the slower members of the group had departed although the last three miles involved a steep climb up towards the Manor at the top of the valley.

 

Dave and I had the option of waiting around till dinner but decided to head back to the house to get refreshed and order some well-earned takeaway pizza. After our day out on the road, this hit the spot and didn’t touch the sides. After our nice dinner, we went back to the Manor just in time for dessert being served, so would’ve seemed rude not to join everyone for a piece of apple crumble. After the Saturday evening talk, our speaker, the fast talking and endlessly enthusiastic Paul, decided to do some impromptu market research to gauge the reaction of the group to the proposed idea of Oak Hall hosting a cycling, walking and camping weekend on the grounds of the Manor. Unfortunately, he was met with a tough crowd led by Zippy who rasped about some obscure camping incident from the distant past and someone else who had a friend of a friend who had to beat an adder to death with a mallet on a French cycle trip.

Saturday evening’s proceedings at the Manor ended with a large bonfire in one of the fields. Considering the raw ingredients of the spectacle were a few burning pallets, it attracted quite a crowd. Flames lapped up around 20 feet in the air at its peak and everyone had to stand a reasonable distance away though it was tempting to recreate the dancing in front of flame part of the Tales of the Unexpected opening credits.

 

Sunday morning began with a short church service at Otford Manor, followed by an activity time. We joined an orienteering course that had been specially set up for the group. We set off in groups of 2 to find 14 points around the grounds, each with a piece of card with a letter of the alphabet. Thankfully Dave proved to be the human GPS and helped us to find all but one of the checkpoints. It was a nice way to get some panoramic views of the garden of England and observe some curiosities like the giant toadstools in the fields.

 

 

 

When the results were announced, we were told that there were no particular losers from all those who went orienteering. This was true, there were no losers apart from every other group that went out apart from Dave and myself. We had a pleasant turkey roast at Sunday lunch followed by a slab of cheesecake. After saying our goodbyes to the group, we decided to toast the weekend with a nice glass of something strong. It so happened that there was some of the new 2013 vintage of Irn-Bru in the fridge, a truly thirst quenching and classy beverage before setting off for a quick afternoon excursion to the grounds of Knole House. It is fair to say that it was a fun-filled weekend that helped to highlight the delights of this beautiful part of England.

 

South West Revisited

Following our successful long weekend on the banks of the River Tamar earlier in the summer, it was time to come back to that idyllic part of the world for another visit. After leaving work late on Friday afternoon, it was a surprise to find that the usual rush hour delays on the M4 didn’t materialise. The last few miles of the journey take place on single track roads that are not so easy to negotiate. There was even a moment where a bat flew in very close proximity to the windscreen when the road was at its narrowest, just like in an eerie scene from a horror movie.

On arrival at our farm cottage, I was greeted with a lovely plate of curry which tasted all the better following the 220 mile journey. The group sat outside for a while with all the usual robust banter taking place though people did turn in earlier than usual feeling a bit tired after the journey and work, maybe it was a sign that the group isn’t as young any more.

The next morning we were greeted with a lovely cooked breakfast from our ever dependable hired help. There was heavy cloud cover for most of the weekend but it was still lovely to sit outside and take in the view, overlooking the River Tamar. We learned from Guy that he was in the local village and someone in a shop still made reference to the stag weekend from earlier in the summer. This event was quite loud and probably raised the eyebrows of a few locals who had their peace shattered. The key instigator in turning the volume up to 11 was Sunny, an individual who is more shouty than Kate Thornton in her X-Factor pomp. His absence was on the September weekend was due to work commitments, though one could speculate that it may have been driven by fear that it is Mississippi Burning down there and an army of disgruntled locals would be on the lookout for him.

It was decided that our Saturday afternoon activity would be visiting a Toboggan run on the outskirts of Plymouth at a sports centre that also included a dry ski slope. It was a problem on deciding who would drive but we all gathered in a circle and someone opened a “spin the bottle” app to decide on who would be chauffeur. Plymouth does have a reputation of being a rough and ready city, this is partly due to having been an important base for the Royal Navy. This publication does not wish to slander this proud city though it is clear that the trolls live on top of bridges rather than under them as in fairy tales.

The activity was reasonably priced with the option of one slide for £1.50 or five for the marginally cheaper price of £7. Everybody embraced this activity with childlike enthusiasm which was probably correct considering the other clientele did seem to be quite a bit younger than our group.

To access the track, we had to travel on a pulley system that took us up at least 200 metres to the start point. The first picture below shows the system in action, it is recommended that a gap of at least 20 metres is left between each individual.

 

The first couple of were a good opportunity to learn the track and braking points. I was kindly given three extra runs by one of the group though this selfless act may have been motivated by the need for cigarette.

Before the last run was due to happen, there was a bit of a sideshow in the queue as a young girl took a long time to decide if she wanted to participate in the tobogganing but after a few moments deliberation, she decided to try. Lee agreed with the staff that it would be a good idea to wait until she was at the top of the pulley system before setting off as she was likely to be slow. Inspite of this delay, I was feeling very bullish about a high speed run as delusions of tobogganing adequacy began to enter the mind along with dreams of a last minute place in Team GB for the Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics.

As I approached one of the fastest parts of the track, I steadied the sled, cornering with all the precision of a Pendolino train as I approached maximum speed. Unfortunately, my dreams of standing next to Chemmy Alcott at the Opening Ceremony of the winter games was gone in a flash as I suddenly saw Lee on the other side of the corner with the terrified little girl immediately in front of him. Inspite of applying maximum brake, I smashed into the back of Lee with a big impact that tore the brake mechanism off of his sled.

This caused panic among the staff and the first aider was duly dispatched to check out any injuries. To their credit, the parents of the girl came over and were very apologetic, perhaps realising that they maybe should’ve discouraged her from going on the run. It was clear that his wrist was swollen and it was recommended to go to casualty, though this idea was met with a mocking laugh and the first aider was asked if casualty had a bar. Forms were filled and statements taken in order that the company could try and distance themselves from any blame. As it happened, the injury was not as bad as first feared and all everyone wanted was to just get on with things, though there would have been much less chance of an accident if they had a few strategically placed lights to warn of any incidents throughout the track. Unfortunately, the incident led to us being referred to as collision Colin and rear-ended Lee by certain merciless individuals in the gathering.

Later that afternoon I joined Guy and Luke on a shooting expedition on the grounds of the farm. This took us to the top fields where it is possible to have panoramic views of the Tamar.

 

 

 

Two of us would keep a lookout for potential kills and the other would have the responsibility of the gun. There was not many opportunities for a shot, though Guy aimed for a couple of birds but didn’t complete the kills. We were making our way back down towards the house when Luke spotted a rabbit within 40 feet of the gate. He then handed me the rifle, inviting me to try and take it out. Staring down the barrel of a shooter at a rabbit is probably the most inopportune moment to have the strains of Bright Eyes by Art Garfunkel come wafting through the mind.  I ended up pulling the gun too much to the right and the bunny was able to live to fight another day.

Guy and Luke did manage to make some kills in their early morning sorties to ensure that there was always something in the pot. Luke was able to shed his image of mid-management respectability by showing a great talent in skinning and cutting up with the sort of dexterity that would be expected of a butcher.

Saturday evening spent back at the farm where there was the usual robust banter. It is fair to say that the presence of Mr Magner and Mr Dufouleur had quite a bearing on the evening and perhaps caused some sore heads the next morning.

Sunday was a more relaxed day due to a mixture of some of the group having to depart early with work commitments and others who decided to take it more gently after the night before. On this relaxed day, it is nice to just sit on a seat in the paddock and watch the river go by.

 

 

It is often said that sequels are more disappointing than the original film but this particular trip should not be considered in the same light as Return to Oz. It was certainly quieter and more laid back than other lad’s weekends though was a nice opportunity to catch up with friends and have a few laughs in one of the most picturesque areas in the UK.