Check this out!

Last time I mentioned the enviable sunny weather being enjoyed at Casa Cristina, Roandola, in Romania. I've got some good news for you from Laurie, who runs it as a B&B and whose home it is.... "There's bottle of bubbly in the fridge for each of the first three bookings that mention your "Diary of a Donkeybody" blog!" Lubbly jubbly, as Del-boy would say. Cheers, Laurie!

Sunny days in Devon

I have to apologise, not least to the friend who wondered whether my blogging silence meant something was wrong. I'm sorry to say it means approximately the opposite - that I've been having rather a good time, partly because I've been in the book-writing "zone" and partly because we went away for a long sunny weekend to South Devon coming back a week ago.

We stayed in Newton Poppleford for two reasons: a) it's near Jane's revered and lovely parents, and b) it's where I found a promising disabled friendly bed and breakfast. Brookfields proved to be better than I'd dared hope. It's run by a couple, David and Rosemary, who'd previously owned a nursing home and therefore understood my needs well. Our bedroom had a wetroom en suite which, of course, is ideal. There was plenty of room both sides of the bed. And the breakfasts were amazing. David and Rosemary seek out the best from every source, working on the principle that they give their guests what they themselves would like. And they are excellent and generous cooks. When we eating out with Jane's parents at midday, we had the continental option - well, you can't do much with that, can you? It was fine, but not as extraordinarily yummy as the full English.

I suppose what was best about Brookfields was the hospitality. It isn't the hotel-type B&B; it's a home. Even Axy, the dog, is friendly and welcoming.

Friday was Sport Relief day. We'd decided to make use of our National Trust card and visit Killerton House, just on the other side of the M5. It's an impressive house, built originally as a stop-gap, for the Acland family. Happily they decided to stick with it rather than build a grandiose permanent house on top of the hill. It's grand enough as it is, with beautiful grounds (not that wheelchair friendly) and an accessible ground floor. Jane indulged one of my vices at lunchtime with a packet of quavers, which was kind of her.

About midday there was an influx, a torrent of primary school children, 200 of them in blue, yellow, green and red tops. They were, we realised, marking Sport Relief, competing in ages round different distances, including a course of up to a mile. It was beautiful sunny afternoon; parents and peers shouted encouragement. What better way to end the week - pupils and for teachers! And for us it proved diverting entertainment.

St Luke's, Newton Poppleford

Our Italian evening was, I'd say, average, although the service was excellent - as were the quite different services we attended on the Sunday. The first was in St Luke's, Newton Poppleford, which Rosemary took us to in the morning. A delightful friendly relaxed yet reverent Communion service. It reminded somewhat of Stanford, which is quite high praise! After a cream tea in the afternoon we headed off to see the sea and then to join our friends at Christ Church, Exmouth. Here we had excellent worship music, and a memorable sermon on Psalm 1 and pee charts! On the way back we sampled Krispies' award-winning fish and chips, which I have to say were just as good as their reputation. Back at the B&B we were plied with sloe gin and red wine - "and so to bed" after a great day.

Christ Church, Exmouth

Jane returning with the clotted golden treasure!

Before coming home on Monday, we had to pick up some clotted cream for a member of our family (and ourselves, to be fair) from what is agreed to be the best supplier in Sidmouth. We spent another couple of mellow hours with Jane's parents, this time in Sidmouth Garden Centre's remarkably good and reasonably priced restaurant. Our progress was almost brought to a halt by an accident blocking both directions of the A303. However instead of following the official diversion we successfully circumvented it and were home in time to feed the dog. Although physically taxing, as all changes from routine inevitably are, with a disabled body to look after, we both returned stimulated and ready to enjoy the week of unbroken sunshine which followed. Breaks are physically tiring and take a bit of recovery time, but mentally they are essential for riding the stresses of disability - which is the reason why funding which makes them possible must not be cut. The alternative, carers being unable to carry on, would cost the tax-payer much more, with two casualties to deal with. I await with some trepidation the government's proposals for creating a viable care system.

Home sweet home

We're just back from a great week near Llandovery in mid-Camarthenshire. It's where we've been before - well off the beaten track, a single-storey building attached to a 200-year old Welsh farmhouse, with lovely views over the River Towy to the Black Mountain. Being Wales the joy of the view is that it constantly changes, sometimes shrouded in rain, sometimes stunningly clear, and of course changing with the time of day.

However what's best about Pen y Banc is the amazing garden which surrounds it, created by Kenneth and Gill over the past twenty years. I reckon it ranks in its small way with the best of the great gardens like Aberglasney nearby. Sadly I can't get round it, but Jane enjoys it and takes photos so that I can see what I'm missing! Here are some pictures.

And yet, in spite of everything, it's good to be home again - and that's not because I've missed the internet! Far from it! I can't imagine being at the beck and call of a bleeping Blackberry all day every day. What a nightmare! I think they should be called Brambles - you don't want to get caught up with one.

A tale of three parts

Snake's-head fritillary near our safe house

"Gallia est omnis divisa in tres partes" (All Gaul is divided into three parts). I'm glad to say my last week had nothing in common with Julius Caesar's Gallic Wars, except falling into three parts. These may conveniently be labelled the shires of Devon, Cambridge, and Oxford.

The stream in the valley

Part 1 - Devon.
Returned to our remote 'safe house' where we chilled out, enjoyed the neighbouring walks (Jane and Jess) and the views (Jane and me). Among other things the farm has wild flower meadows, enjoyed by the local bees and containing flowers as common as violets and unusual as snake's head fritillaries.

One of the two beehives

Budleigh Salterton front from the hill

As well as visiting Jane's parents, we spent most of Wednesday exploring down and up the Otter Trail (from Otterton to Budleigh Salterton). Bit of a facer there :-( . The public toilets at the east of the prom were being refurbished, and I'm sure they'll look very nice soon, but there was no notice of apology or indication where the nearest ones might be. We asked one workman. He wasn't local, so he shouted to his mate on the roof. "Where's the next loos? These folk is desperate." (Not really.) "800 yards along the front, up there!" He omitted to tell us one vital fact....

Man from Mars (note the aerials)

Very pleasant it was, sitting in the wheelchair, with the sound of the waves on the shingle and the cry of the gulls, and the sun shining on the lee of the cliff. Jane however had to push me. And it's not a gentle incline at the western end. In fact as the metres extended to kilometres, the lady we asked suggested we go through the village "as the slope's easier". I'm sure she was right but navigating a street with a wheelchair and a dog put us off, and Jane opted for the one in five hill. Undefeated, we reached our destination. The Gents had metal security gates and steps leading down out of sight. So round the corner in search of the Disabled. Nothing - just Ladies, with again a turnstile arrangement and steps down. Well, Jane availed herself, before pushing me back more than mile to the car - to be greeted by a couple of swallows. "Summer is a-cumen in" - I couldn't remember whether it's one swallow or two that don't make a summer. Whatever - it was a thoroughly summery day, topped off by a shared cream tea at Otterton Mill with its very friendly and obliging staff - including access to limited but adequate disabled facilities.

One obliging swallow

We had to come home on Thursday afternoon to be ready for Part 2, and so Part 1 ended with a relaxing morning and lunch at the cottage, disturbed only by a helicopter inspecting power lines.

Part 2 - Cambridge

Ridley's Walk (or Dewey's, for our generation)

It's 40 years since I left Cambridge. Consequently my old college, Pembroke, invited me to a Feast, along with my contemporaries, of course. A feast is not much good for me, trying to eat and mumbling to make myself understood against a background of decreasingly intelligent chatter, but an opportunity to see my long-lost (and highly intelligent) buddies seemed too good to be missed. So we arranged to go to tea first, to stay overnight and to have breakfast, and hope to see friends at greater leisure. And it worked well, with the bonus of a quiet meal with our good friends, Nic and Martin, with young daughter Hannah near Huntingdon.

The Guest Dormitory M4a

Our guest room had the advantage of being very conveniently situated, even if it looked as though it was awaiting the final phase of college modernisation. The weather of course was perfect - clear skies, blossom out... completing the illusion that student-life was one blissful summer. Sadly, again, we had to tear ourselves away from the realms of nostalgia to return to an altogether inferior place, the Holiday Inn in Oxford.

Part 3 - Oxford

Matt Jones & Team Diddy present £5100+

We were heading for the local MNDA Branch AGM, and considering the time we left Cambridge were creditably on time. There were the usual reports and elections. Perhaps the most significant fact I picked up was that expenditure was 30+% above income - of course need for help for MND patients never diminishes and demand is constantly being renewed. Although the MNDA has a very committed support base, clearly the squeeze affects its income as much as the next charity.

During the lunch break Tracy the MND Centre's speech therapist showed me the programmes for iPads, iPods and iPads for synthesising speech, as well as the different controls and speakers you can use. Unlike the old systems you can get English voices (and even Aussie), not just American, and they're much cheaper than the old market leading Lightwriter. I don't absolutely need one yet, but I can foresee it being a useful technology.

Kirstine Knox waiting (Colin Blakemore lt)

Then, after some technical projection problems, we had the MNDA's big boss, Kirstine Knox, talking about the scope and future of the association. She sent her young daughter fast asleep, but the rest of us were quite interested!

Glad to be home!

When we returned home, there were two NHS letters awaiting me: one from my consultant, Dr Donaghy, telling us he was retiring before my next appointment. It's a bit of a blow, because, as you know, I liked and trusted him a lot. However, he is handing me on to Prof Talbot who runs the MND Centre, and is also an exceedingly nice man. The other I though would be from the hospital summoning me to have my tooth removed, but no, it was from Didcot Dental Clinic summoning me for a full assessment at the end of the month. When Jane queried it by phone, she was told the waiting list at the hospital was "sometimes over a year" and that a specialist dentist would be seeing if something could be done in the clinic instead, and no, they wouldn't do treatment then.... Hmm. Is this the beginning of decay in NHS provision, I wonder.

Welsh retreat

Well, it wasn't thunderstorms! Far from it. Except on the last night when there was an earthquake not so far away in Port Talbot (3 on the Richter scale) - not that it disturbed our sleep! So for a quick update of our doings last week, when it was rather hot, you may remember, climatically, I mean, rather than politically. (I rationed my intake of news severely, as I'd had a surfeit of bile.)
Saturday : We travelled in mediterranean temperatures, having lunch by the Brecon/Monmouth canal, and arriving to a right royal welcome, tea, bara brith, vases of flowers and wine in the fridge. The important thing about this cottage, besides the hospitable hosts, Kenneth and Gill, is it is disabled friendly. Lots of room and a wet room. And it has a lovely view of the River Towey (Afon Tywi) to the Black Mountain (see above). Being Wales, the main sport interest on TV was rugby and we just caught the end of Britain's got Talent, when the dance group Diversity won, while Susan Boyle received rather patronising comments from the judges, half excusing the media persecution she'd received during the week. No wonder she had a nervous collapse afterwards.

Sunday : got up early to go to church in Llandovery, parked the car down the road in the shade for the dog, extracted the wheelchair, and then Jane pushed me all the way back only to discover that the service wasn't at the usual time because it was the fifth Sunday. Of course!! Five of us in all trailed away, disappointed. We decided not to wait an hour and find 'the other' church where there'd be a united service in Welsh... and so drove the scenic route back to the cottage, where we spent the rest of the day enjoying the sun. I began to read 'Vanity Fair' while Jane took Jess for a walk. As Jess relaxed in the shade of the house, a red kite swooped low and circled. I whipped out my mobile phone and put it on to video, but I never got the unique footage of a dog being seized and carried off into the sky. Presumably the kite realised Jess wasnn't dead meat. We even missed Songs of Praise, which was a shame, as it was Pentecost Sunday which I think is one of the most exciting Sundays in the year.

Monday : more sunshine, and we went exploring in the Usk Reservoir area. It was new to us. Sadly the picnic places I'd identified had no shade and were inaccessible by wheelchair anyway. But on the way we did see an extraordinary sight - completely pink sheep, almost flourescent pink, not just one or two, but hundreds. They clearly hadn't just been marked by the rams, because it was ALL over. Perhaps it was an experiment in ready-dyed fleeces.... Eventually we found a promising place at the edge of a Forestry Commission wood, where there was shade and sun, as well as footpaths. While we were eating an open top veteran car rolled up. It turned to be an Alvis, one of 20 (1926-32 era) apparently that were touring in the area. I thought too late about taking a photo, but we saw a number rattle over the cattle-grid and pull away up the hill. But I did take one of Jane and Jess after their walk. On our way back home, we saw several red kites circling near the road and realised we were right by the Black Mountain 'feeding station', about 15 minutes after they'd finished. Aptly it's next to a pub painted blood red. Coincidentally 'Springwatch' showed another feeding station that evening.