New Years Swim in the Sea

New years day, always a weird one in my view as it always feels like two separate ones, the first one recovering from the night before and the other spend wandering aimlessly trying to find something on the telly or somewhere that's open to go to. This year though would be different, 2011 would be started in the same spirit I hope to maintain all year; it would be started off with a swim in the sea.

This was another one of those 1/2 dreading 1/2 looking forward to entries in the book. It was Mum's idea as naturally once it had been mentioned, it had to be done. I'd been told that wild swimming was quite invigorating but was dreading it as I've inherited my Dad's hatred of cold water. We're the same in the sense that once water of a certain temperature gets as high as the thighs and beyond we start cursing and singing soprano.

After failing to find any official New Year swims we thought we'd just find the closest coast and get it done. Mum picked out Hayling Island as it had some post-swim things to do and she'd been there as a kid with some pretty vivid memories, brought back once we'd crossed the bridge onto the island. After finding a spot full of beach huts (glorified sheds at ten times the price) the beach seemed clear so we shifted all the post swim stuff ready onto the beach, robes and hundreds of towels ready to get warm again after the dip. After returning from the car though the beach suddenly seemed to be crowded, all dog walkers, no one else daft enough to do what we had planned. I thought about waiting for the beach to clear but then thought 'sod it', let's get it done. Top off, shoes off, flip flops on and leg it into the water. Water up to my feet, cold! Up to the shins, not nice! Up to the thighs, I'm cursing, up to the waist and I'm singing soprano! There must have been a step in the sand as I suddenly sank up to my neck and started swimming. This was it, I was swimming in the sea! It was the weirdest sensation, it felt like having hundreds of nails prodding me all over and that feeling when your half asleep and someone rips the duvet off you and open the curtains all in one but in a good way, really invigorating. Mum didn't quite managed the swim bit as she found the same step I did and fell in but I'll let her off as she made it in the water and it was her idea for the day. The whole experience felt like the compost mile, bloody stupid in theory, painful in doing it but an infinite sense of satisfaction once it was done.

After getting out and trying desperately to get warm it was off for grub, cuppas and what else we can find. If you ever find yourself on the Island, go to Delia's diner and get yourself the BK Breakfast for the biggest plate of goodness you'll ever see. A quick visit to the arcade saw a go in the Van Gogh Colour Workroom, frustrations on the 2p piling up game and success on the dancing machine, two As and a B. A swim in the sea, changing of a flat tyre at 2 in the morning and a surprise cinema visit with an old antipodean friend of mine saw a more than memorable start to MMXI, much more of the same please :)

Rossifer x

P.s. Ignore whatever it says below, this was posted 02/01/11 - 2:05pm ;)

Tis the Season

Listen to Noddy, Wham and Wizzard,

Get the car home before the blizzard.

Joy and panic at the sight of snow,

Joy for the young ones, old ones woe.

Coca Cola and Perfume ads,

-6 out, freezing gonads.

Festive Spices, Christmas essence,

"Get out the room, I'm wrapping presents!"

Christmas parties, drunk and dancy,

Mistletoe kiss for the one you fancy.

Christmas decs the cat can reach,

Great Escape and Lizzie's speech.

Green ones, Black ones - Christmas trees,

Real ones, fake ones whichever you please.

Songs of peace and Christmas cheer,

Plans a plenty come next year.

It's getting close, I'll end my rhyme,

Big day's tomorrow, It's Christmas time.

Rossifer x

Car Insurance - The joys - *UPDATED*

Churchill, could you more than double my insurance just because dad rather dropped me in it with the immortal line "Oh my son drives it a lot more than I do". "OHHH YESSS." He has promised to pay me the difference in the renewal quote though bless him so he'll be forgiven if he lives up to his bond. A weird entry this, into the good book but where else to write it? This online tome contains all the random and new things I get up to, why not putting myself down as a named driver on car insurance for the first time?

EXTRA EXTRA!! Not only did dad pay the difference in the insurance, BUT he also cleaned up after some little scrouts egged my car and didn't mention it because he knew i'd be gutted. Cheers Dad, loves ya :) x

It is a soul destroying experience though I can tell you, especially when being a member of society's most persecuted group when it comes to motoring - young male. I must say I felt like the scum of the earth when the questions came flooding in again and again. You could sense the bile being spurted out "WHAT?! You're how old?! AND YOU PARK YOUR CAR WHERE?!!!". There were a list of insurers who simply turned their noses up at me, a few, like Sheila's Wheels and Saga obviously wouldn't have worked and others charged me more than my car was even worth. One even refused because my car wasn't worth enough :( Poor Mavis, never has a car been more loyal and received such harsh treatment. At the end of the day i'm giving these people money for nothing. In my 6 years of driving, the only damage done was from some little sod who did my mirrors when Mavis was parked up. I've always driven safely but there's something funny about naming your car, you look after her even more. So for a couple of hours I was wishing I was actually a 55 year old accountant living in Harrogate with a Fiat Punto parked in a private garage under armed guard, not a 28 year old pacifist wondering who will be next to take from the pot.

Rant over ;)

Rossifer x

Find the bridge - FOUND!

This is one of those entries I had to write down the day it happened as waiting a few days after to do the blog often takes a way some of the essence which made the day itself so memorable. Many will look at this with one of those deep, unapproving frowns as if to say 'what is that boy up to now?!'. Others will give a smile but will be thinking along the same lines. Only the few will know why the picture alongside this means so much. It all started after seeing a picture of a simple wooden bridge with a nice view in the background. The only clue as to its location was 'Lake District' at the bottom of the page, which I'd never been to. Sure anyone can find a more impressive bridge and a much better view but in the end, who would be daft enough to set out to find a random bridge among 800 in the Lake District just because it was there to find, not once but twice...?

The first attempt was to find the bridge and much more besides. I went not only vastly unprepared but had set myself way too much to accomplish. Second time around, only one thing mattered; the bridge had to be found. I'd been e-mailing around various friends and the Cumbrian tourist board with the picture to see if anyone had any ideas and luckily the Cumbrians came to my aid. The bridge was somewhere in an area known as the Newlands Valley near Keswick (miles away from where I'd been searching the first time.) As the bridge wasn't a named one though I knew there would still be a fair bit of searching. After training up to Windermere and bus-ing to Keswick I find the start of the trail. I soon realise these trails aren't ideal unless you've got the obligatory Ordnance Survey maps and books by Wainwright. All I was armed with was a name of a valley and a picture of a bridge.

After a few miles I got to the stage where I was at one my first attempt at finding it and luckily enough, had the same result. Just when I was about to jack it in, both times, I met someone who knew exactly where I needed to know. This time, it was a bloke with his family who put me back where I needed to be. Never one to believe in anything other worldly but if I do have a guardian watching over me, thanks for that ;) The bloke told me he'd also seen the bridge in the picture I'd shown him or at least one just like it. The directions he gave were spot on including the small wooden bridge I'd need to cross (not the one I was looking for), the old quarry and the settlement on the right. After a couple of miles, a breakthrough. I could see what I swore looked like one of the mountains in the picture. After another mile or so I was half excited and half frantic as there was still no sign of the bridge and the evening and weather were starting to close in. I HAD to be getting close though. Again, I thought it was getting hopeless but I thought i'd go on a bit further when... wait... is that...? THE BRIDGE! IT MUST BE! Instantly the aches and blisters didn't matter. I must have been running like an arthritic jackal but it didn't matter, after 1/2 a year I was exactly where I wanted to be, I'd found my bridge. I forget how many photos I took as proof at various angles, luckily I had only a black horse for company and I think even he wandered what this crazy southerner was doing getting so excited about something so uninspiring.

The rest of the evening was hell up to the hotel. By this stage it was a race to get inside before it was dark and wet. It turned out to be 4 hour slog, half of it in total darkness and 3 miles of it getting soaked. Like the bridge, I only had basic details on where I would be spending the night. This time I went for the easy option, I wasn't going to take the beast again, not only was camping outside in October not preferable but lugging the extra weight around certainly wasn't. After stopping off at a pub I came out to complete darkness and torrential rain. The walk to the hotel up the A66 reminder me of The Long Walk Home; not as dangerous but worse with the weather. Luckily I had a mini torch thing on the bag which stopped me getting run over! The sight of the hotel felt just as good as that of the bridge. I ignored the advice of the bloke who showed me to my room to pop down to the bar for a drink as I got in, stripped off, and crashed.

After crashing out on the bed, I had to get out the book which had started this whole way of life off, the now not so purple looking Purple book. I wondered there and then "Why do I put myself through things like this"? On that same day I'd spent 8 1/2 hours on a train, 2 on a bus and however many on foot. I'd spent 150 quid on transport and accommodation and all to find a featureless wooden bridge in a region full of equally beautifully looking and more accessible locations. The answer comes twofold. The first reason is the challenge; who else would be daft enough to go looking for a bridge just because it was there? The second reason are the feelings you get from accomplishing something so monumentally pointless. Never has the sight of a simple wooden bridge, a pint of lemonade in a pub and a small hotel room with a bed, shower, TV and kettle brought so much joy as you know you've well and truly earnt it. It is these simple pleasure which are magnified once a certain amount of hell has been endured. Yes you ache all over but no one can take the joy away from you at succeeding in something so infinitely pointless and rewarding. Back in the spring I had a crazy notion about finding a random bridge somewhere in the Lake District. Today, I'd found it :)

Rossifer x

National Poetry Day 2010

'Home' - Written on behalf of the old girl at Denefield as an entry for their poetry day

It’s cold when it’s winter and hot during summer,

The drains often block which is always a bummer.

The son has an annexe, a 2 up 2 down,

The state of it giving me reason to frown.

The bedroom, my haven, all made up and girly,

But from dreamy to nightmare when alarms go off early.

The lounge has a constant, an old man asleep,

His paperwork stored on the floor in a heap.

The neighbours, on one side, a mother alone,

The other, much older, always around for a moan.

The garden’s a small holding, chickens and bees,

There’s also the cat, who is riddled with fleas.

The Spare room, the box room, our own makeshift study,

The Porch full of shoes, lacking style and all muddy.

The rats have a field day with acres to roam,

But when all’s said and done, there is no place like home.

Rossifer x

Rossifer's Big 26

Sunday 17th April 2011 will see a tall, vastly underweight man with a phobia of exercise dragging his skinny self 26.2 miles across lovely London using only his feet, the odd bottle or two of Lucozade and a will of steel which will not be broken. Experience everything up to and including that point on Rossifers Big 26 which can be found in the links section or here --> http://rossifersbig26.blogspot.com.

Rossifer x

Pulped Fiction

The main event. As fantastic and beautiful as Valencia was, it was Buñol we had all been waiting to visit. The coach was largely silent on the way there as people were tired out from the night before and the early start, they would leave exhausted. We'd been told to get on the other side of 'the pole' a tall greased bit of wood with a leg of ham stuck at the top. This was to get in the best action and still have a way of avoiding the crush. Despite racing to get there I managed to get only to where the water cannons were, but could still see the pole in question. Some people were already trying to climb it when I got there.

After a while, the odd bloke got bored and tried climbing the tree in front of us to much cheering from the crowd the higher they got and much booing when they weakened out. The pole chasers were starting to think up ingenious methods of reaching the top. No doubt a russian circus team would have been up the top in a shot but each time someone got higher they were chucked bits of clothing to un-grease the pole. After the befafflement of the guy who managed to touch the ham, but didn't decide to bring it down with him, the sight of the 1st truck of tomatoes came into view. I will never know how a) they managed to fit 5 huge trucks down those streets with so many of us stood there and b) how I only saw 1 person carried away injured at the end. I gotta say for the actual chucking bit it was horrible as it was so packed where I was. People were pushing from every direction and i'd just about had enough of getting hit with the water cannon, especially because I hadn't got 'the shot' i.e. a fantastic picture of yours truly getting Ragu'ed up.

After a while I'd had enough and wanted out, good thing I did as this was the best part. I found a side street with those obviously feeling the same and we all realised we had plenty of room, and ammo, to chuck at each other. The street went down a hill and you could see a constant torrent of tomato sauce and pulp flowing around your feet.

After an hour of the trucks coming in a shot went off to signify the end. Oddly enough the water cannons were turned off and it was the turn off the locals to have a go with their hoses. Every doorway and balcony had smiley local residents hosing everyone off. I love the fact that despite the fact we'd just pelted their small town to bits they all acted so happy and friendly towards us. On the way back, despite being hosed down various times, I got my joint favourite shot. I never did get completely covered due to being to far from the main action and too close to the trigger happy water cannon dudes. In the end it didn't matter though as I love the slightly camp picture above with the blokes dressed in sailor gear (an act of genius methinks) and the one below which is the closest thing I got to 'the shot'. Despite all the various hosing downs, everyone without fail on the coach back where still picking bits of tomato out of their hair and ears on the way back!

I can't see me returning to Spain any time soon, any place that is hot even at night and can't make a decent cup of tea is never worth revisiting but it did give me the 3rd best birthday event so far after the epic helichopper day and the big apple. I have a sneaky feeling the next 2 will be very strong contenders for the top 3 when they come if I can make them happen. Fingers crossed i'll be doing the 3 peaks challenge for my 29th and walking through the sun gate in Machu Picchu for my 30th :)

Rossifer x