Much Talking in the Vale

Yesterday we had a very sociable day. In the morning we met Elizabeth Berner for coffee in Oxford. I never met her late husband, Tim, but wish I had. He also had MND, but had a different attitude from many of us. He disliked the way that MND is demonised and that campaigners play on the idea of victimhood. I must say I share his views, and in fact I owed the last word of my book to a letter of his. The illness is of course awful, but it can be an experience of good things such as beauty and compassion. The light shines in the darkness. That's why it can be redemptive. Time flew as we talked. It was so nice to hear about a man whom I have found an inspiration.

In the afternoon we went back to Stanford in the Vale to visit the annual summer Festival. We thought we'd spend an hour there, but in the end it was more like two and a half. It was non-stop talking of course, and good to meet so many old friends from the village. However I must confess I'm glad to have retired and to know that Dr Tim Rose will be taking over after the summer holidays.

Hospitality

I'm happy to report that there is friendly life in Grove. Well, we knew that already, as our neighbours are still friendly despite building works on and off here, which must have been a tad annoying, and we'd been for lunch with Mandy and Charles in their riverside poustina. But today we went for coffee with Colin and Barbara, whom we'd met at the Vale Elim Church three weeks ago. This was our first social invitation from 'Grovers'. I went in my wheelchair and Jane took my stick so that I could get in. It's a significant landmark, being welcomed into someone's home.

After that we went on to the poustina, where Zoe, a friend from Stanford, who's had severe ME for 19 years, was having a holiday. Zoe and I have quite a bit in common, and so an hour passed quickly. She has come through a lot and remains amazingly positive. Jane came back with the dog to accompany through the village byways.

And so the weekend is here. In Stanford it will be the Festival (where this blog began). However I'm no longer vicar; and so it's over to others. Rumour has it that the new priest in charge and his family may be there. They're in for a treat. Even without the Red Arrows, who were booked in, but just a couple of weeks ago cancelled - something to do with not having enough fuel. Sounds like cuts in the defence budget to me. If MPs can't have moats, then the people can't have fly-pasts. So there!

Television and turtles

Just watching 'Springwatch' and film taken off Aberystwyth, just A FEW MILES north of Aberaeron. Not porpoises, not basking sharks, but a leather back turtle. Huge excitement! Could it have been what I saw off the cliffs by Aberaeron last week? The film certainly looked like what I saw in the distance. I think it might have been. Well, well. And Jane tells me that she saw part of the invasion of Painted Lady butterflies when she was out walking one afternoon on holiday.

This morning I did my interview about assisted suicide here. An early start we had, but Clare, one of the crew, was held up for an hour and a half on the M25, presumably a result of the tube strike. In the meantime John and Matt set up the lights and cameras, and then Clare arrived, and filming began. Talk about stress! I had to think, and try to be coherent - and it was hot in the conservatory under the lights. In the end they took over half an hour's film, of which eight minutes will go into the final DVD - as long as it's good enough. Then they were off to see Mark Hampson, the disabled rugby player.

The post brought the audio version of 'My Donkeybody' which the Torch Trust for the Blind has produced. It's nicely read by one of their volunteers. Sadly, in a way, it's not on general release, but available only to the visually impaired. So if you know someone whose eyesight makes reading impossible, follow the 'Literature' link on their website (http://www.torchtrust.org/). There's an interview with me going out on their programme at 4 pm on Sunday 5th July on Premier Radio.

A new villain and an old hero

What's happened to Romeo the robin, you may well be wondering. Well, he's gone quiet at night, which I assume means he's happily mated with Juliet and busy with paternal duties. Not that we've seen any young robins in our garden. However, his role as nocturnal persecutor has been taken over by... Brutus the blackbird. I've already mentioned how he woke Jess up early one morning with his alarm call. Well, now he's descended to new depths. He's now taken to doing it regularly. For example, this morning (AT 4 AM, WOULD YOU BELIEVE??) he started off with a sort of half-cock alarm, which was like a dripping tap, poop, poop, poop! And of course Jess went off barking furiously. Jane got up, and told her to be quiet - which she was. Then we nodded off. But Brutus hadn't finished; half an hour later he gave us a full burst of alarm and set Jess off again. Fie on thee, villain!

Now you may think I'm neurotic about these avian 'friends' and haven't learned the lessons of Springwatch. Well, all I can say is, 'Check this out: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/8092479.stm .' If that's not malice aforethought, I don't know what is. Don't give me any of that territorial behaviour nonsense, Mr Packham. That's sheer malice. I think there's clear evidence of a global conspiracy - and Brutus is part of it.

This afternoon I had my annual visit to my consultant. Dr Donaghy, at the JR. It poured with rain and we had to park in the underground car park. The neuroscience clinics are on the top floor of the West Wing (not in Washington) and we didn't have long to wait. Dr Donaghy is such a nice man. He originally diagnosed my MND. Treats you as an intelligent being. He's very perceptive; checked my spasticity and suggested I try Baclufen to relax my leg muscles. It may turn them to jelly! And it may make me sleepy - in which case I'll stop. He reckons I'm irrepressibly optimistic.... I'm not sure about that but my life is not at all bad.

Tomorrow, I'm being interviewed and filmed for a DVD about assisted suicide. And then, it looks as though you see basking sharks on Springwatch in the evening, if you want to see what the one we saw in Wales was like.

Perspective

It's nice to be back home again. The new kitchen is almost finished, and is a distinct improvement on the old one. There are one or tweaks needed, but, as Jane said, having listened to the world news this morning, they really don't matter. That's another thing about being back here: having access to DAB radio and the BBC World Service. I switched to it this morning because I was so fed up with the insularity of domestic radio. On came Shell's court settlement about human rights' abuse in the Niger Delta, a harrowing report of the dire state of terror in Zimababwe (You thought it was all over? Not a bit of it.) and a rather different view of Iran from the politically slanted one we normally hear - a vibrant society where surprisingly 'normal' life goes on. I suppose it was Zimbabwe which really struck home. Oh yes, Gordon Brown's meeting with the PLP got a mention, but it was in perspective. I'm going to listen to more World Service and less UK parochialism, I trust.

By the way, I must congratulate my Dutch friends on their cricket team's victory over England in the 20/20 World Series on Friday. Cricket never struck me as Holland's sport. And on Sunday, Roger Federer achieved his goal of winning all four of the Grand Slam tournaments. I love watching him, because he's such a beautiful stroke-player and so focused, and so emotional when he wins. You know that tennis is more than a profession for him; it's a passion. I think talk of his being 'the greatest of all time' is fairly fatuous. You can't make comparisons from different eras. But it's certainly a pleasure to watch him now.

Life is good even when it's bad (Wales episode 2)

Tuesday : This is Aberaeron. I don't know why I like it so much, but I suspect it's a place where prayer is valid AND for us it's connected with the holiday when Paul proposed to Penny, which I remember as a beautiful sunny family holiday. Anyway that was our Tuesday expedition, west over the hills, through Lampeter and down the Aeron valley to the coast. We parked on a headland south of the town, and while Jane and Jess walked, I sat and enjoyed the seascape. I think it was porpoises we saw (though my cheap binoculars weren't much help). It might have been a whale! No, it wasn't it was a basking shark. I'm sure; they weren't leaping, but the dorsal fin appeared above the shadow now and then. Wow! That is awesome. (Just seen them on 'Springwatch'.) After lunch we drove into town and parked in the shade and went walkabout, ending up by the harbour surrounded by its painted houses (see picture). The observant may notice I have a sweater on my knees: this is not in case it gets cold but to protect them from the sun. A wise precaution, though sadly they hardly betray signs of having seen any sun now. Vanity of vanities.
Wednesday : We headed south, again for the seaside. Sadly, I missed the turn and so sent Jane through the former mining villages behind Llanelli. It wasn't exactly the scenic route, but a bit of history. However we eventually reached Pembury, our destination. Long-term blog-readers may realise that this time I was able to join Jane and Jess on their walk through Pembury Forest, thanks to the wonderful Beamer Tramper which you can prebook and borrow (free) from the visitors' centre. The Tramper is the Land Rover of disabled buggies, which is just as well, since we managed to wander into rutted forest tracks. Half way we had our lunch in the sun by a track passed by joggers, mountain bikers, a dog-walker, and some horse riders. We ended up at the beach, which is vast and sandy, but were too mean to have an ice cream (£1.50 a go). No doubt at weekends and in holidays it's crowded, as there are 8 tarmaced car parks, plus spare grass ones.
Thursday : The forecast said the wall-to-wall sunshine was going to break, and so we'd planned to go somewhere where we could leave Jess in a shaded car park without her being roasted, viz. the National Botanical Gardens. Earlier in the year than our last visit, so different flowers were out, like the bottle brush trees in the Norman Foster glasshouse. It's a great place for disabled access, and also for fluffy birds like Romeo the robin with their authentic calls. I and another bloke had great fun in the gift shop, prodding them all and trying out all the calls. We must have sent the assistants spare. We had our meal out for the week in the outdoor café - which reminded me of France - formidable. And as you can see, the sun still shone.
Friday : Well, the weather did begin to break today and from that point of view I made the wrong choice in heading north rather towards the coast again. However it didn't rain, much, except when we were having lunch in the car. We hadn't taken waterproofs with us; so it looked as if Jane would get soaked walking the dog. However we were in the woods near Beulah just north of the home of bog-snorkelling and Jane bravely reckoned that the trees would provide some shelter and off she strode into the wilderness. On this occasion the sun shone on the righteous, and after an exhilarating climb through the forest she returned. As a reward I treated her to coffee and cake in the Coed Tallwm Forest Centre in whose car park we had parked. As you can see, it has disabled access and facilities as well as a warm welcome from the host who also owns the surrounding woodland. It's an undiscovered treasure, which deserves to be better known (OS878542; http://www.forestcottages.co.uk/cafe.php). On our way back via Abergeswyn we saw a blue haze on the hillsides, which turned out to be masses of bluebells among the bracken shoots - amazing. And so back to the cottage and our last session of 'Poldark', which we'd begun to watch. Thanks, Ruth and Anthony, for the loan. As well as the romance and Cornish scenery, it's a tale of vicious commercial rivalry, which made me wonder whether the business world is still as unpleasant as that. Maybe 'The Apprentice' confirms that it is.
It really rained on Saturday, but not before Jane had packed the car. And so ended a thoroughly good holiday. Thanks, Jane, for taking me to lovely places. Thank you, God, for amazing scenery and great weather (this year). I really appreciated it.

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.