dive 1 - 22.03.10

I hung suspended upside down and got all confused as a mirrored heaving shimmering film shone with rays of light from below my feet, whilst above my head fish swum past inverted below a sandy ceiling.

This article is an excerpt of a complete meander on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform.  Click HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

Today I got off the merry-go-round

Although Susan and my sister broke the back of the house sorting, without the help of Fni since I went a bit bonkers following a family wedding last September, it is difficult to concieve where I would be.

This article is an excerpt of a complete meander on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform.  Click HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

I wrote to razor but he did not write back

It is concluded by all and agreed by me (the rational side of my personality anyhow) that I do have some 'letting go issues'.  "What's wrong with that?" my alter ego screams inside my head?

This article is an excerpt of a complete meander on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform.  Click HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

They love me in here

The on waking the following morning, what should I find on my door mat but a letter from Elmley Prison.  A letter from the guitar carrying, hat wearing thief himself!  Razor had been nicked and sent to jail.

This article is an excerpt of a complete meander on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform.  Click HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

Monopoly

The other day I went to friends for dinner. They live about 25 minutes drive from Faversham in a place close to the middle of nowhere occupying an old water mill.   

The setting is idyllic and their family beautiful, with three generations sitting around the table eating wholesome food (including an apple and blackberry pie that tasted like my grandmother used to make it).

This article is an excerpt of a complete meander on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform.  Click HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

The nature of epidemics

One interesting fact I learnt is that smokers typically over estimate the average number of years lost from their life as a result of smoking.  They commonly believe all of the anti smoking adverse health related literature and say things like 15 or 20 years will be lost.  

The truth is that only 6 years on average are lost from a smokers life.
 
This article is an excerpt of a complete meander on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform.  Click HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

Hoodies, CCTV and 1984

"Britain has 20 per cent of the world's CCTV cameras. Yes, 20 per cent. There are more cameras in Basingstoke than in New York City, where they are banned from places like the subway on civil liberty grounds."

"The average Briton will be picked up by 300 cameras a day, creating a pervading sense of paranoia. Cameras don't mug or stab you, though. And there is no doubt that a lot of hoodies cause a lot of problems for those who have the misfortune to live around them."

This article is an excerpt of a complete meander on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform.  Click HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

I find myself knowing the things that I knew

Now my lost love had a number of music ‘phases’.  When we first hung out she was mostly listening to “The concretes”, as time went on top spot was taken by “The Magic Numbers” played over and over again for weeks/months at a time.  I got into them and quite liked what I was listening to.

Then Joanna Newsom entered my life.....

She too was played again and again with no let up, over and over again; at home, in the car - everywhere. For whatever reason, I just found her quirky voice resonated in my head in every conceivable wrong way.  It became an ‘issue’. 

This article is an excerpt of a complete meander on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform.  Click HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

Do you know what this is

I looked and saw a knuckle duster was adorning his right fist which was raised and was already bearing down on me.  I remember feeling my whole body shrink and I answered "Yeah" as it came crashing down on my left brow, which immediately opened, spilling claret down one side of my face.


This article is an excerpt of a complete meander on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform.  Click HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

This dude had stolen my hat!

As I flung open the door, there standing in the snow was a man.  Tall and thin, his voice visible in the freezing night air, he asked if I knew where there was a B&B locally.  I directed him to the Railway Hotel which invariably has rooms available and also gave him directions to a small B&B around the corner.  He then asked if I might spare him a cup of tea.  It felt unchristian to turn him away on a cold night and so I invited him in to sit at our table, whilst I made him a cup of tea.

I will refrain from giving his actual name and instead refer to him as ‘RazorShell’.Standing at about 6’ with straight blond hair handing to his jaw  line Razor said that he had worked in advertising, he spoke about writing and bands he is in the process of forming.  He spoke...

This article is an excerpt of a complete meander on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform
HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

Wow! so the game is on

Having been given the email contact details of a dive school in Lanzarote, I tried getting in touch last week.  No reply.

This week I was informed that the interface between Hotmail and Terra is often having a argument so emails are delayed or lost.  Ridiculous as it sounds, it's true. 

I telephoned one of the contacts last night who explained that the principle of me doing the courses I need to go forth into the wide world and procure gainful employment from diving is not a problem.  That it would take about 6-weeks and that I would need to talk to the boss about an intern placement in the morning.  He seemed a really nice chap who was very keen to explain all the considerations ahead of me.

This morning I phoned the boss. 

He seemed really switched on.  The telephone was short and sweet.  Yes the intern placement is a goer.  Yes it will take a month and a half to complete 60 dives necessary to qualify.  I would need to undertake a first aid course and that I would not need to bring any of my own equipment, everything will be supplied including the encyclopedia and manual.

Wow! so the game is on.

This evening I followed up with a call to the house of the guy I spoke to last night.  His wife was very accommodation and explained that accommodation would be available at least in principle for the first two weeks.  If it does not work out, then they would help me find some else on the island that is reasonable.

So this is good news and demonstrates that the no-plan plan is good so long as every opportunity is followed up and one is flexible.  It also demonstrates once again that network-based leads are good leads to follow.

Now I just need to pack up some more of my books and throw away even more of the repulsiveness which fills my house.

This article is duplicated on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform:

HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

Maybe our strategy needs to depend on trouble makers dying in the winter

For several years I was involved in the fight against the effects of homelessness.  I have sat and listened to lots of informed and uninformed arguments and debates all trying to agree on the best means of providing essential services to homeless people in our society.

On the 19th April 2009, I attended a meeting at the office of a local district authority where together with another homeless charity operating in the same area, we again tried to look at solutions to problems faced by homeless individuals and the communities in which they live.

There are some who believe that since resources are so scarce, only people who want help should be afforded it whilst those who have either no insight into their position or no inclination to change can be excluded.  It may sound very liberal but I happen not to agree with this stance believing more in the merits of "There by the grace of God...". 

Many years ago I was told that the laws in Britain are based on the phrase  “Thou shalt not kill; but need'st not strive, officiously to keep alive”.  As time has gone on it seems that this is a profound or fundamental position taken by policy makers and implementers; not just a nuanced argument or perspective when considering the  law of the land.

There are a lot of things wrong with the central government homelessness agenda, but when meeting with representatives of the Communities and Local Government (CLG) department, they always struck me as passionate about alleviating the effects of poverty and targeting ‘those most hard to reach’.

Obviously this was lost in translation by the time the district was implementing their plans.  The reason I propose that the district was out of step with central government is because during my 19th April meeting, the local authority ‘officer’ stated:

“Well maybe our strategy needs to depend on trouble-makers dying in the winter”.

I was outraged and explained that any approach our agency would be part of would only be provided from the basis of compassion and without prejudice.  Moments later the meeting ended. 

It is uncanny that within 20 days of that meeting the charity was given notice that essential funding would be withdrawn and the night shelter would have to close, despite the feedback of monitoring officers informing us our performance was ‘on track’.

The charity and its team of staff worked extremely hard to comply with all that had been stipulated.  When notice was ultimately received, it became clear that rough sleepers would no longer have an emergency night shelter from September onwards.  The charity’s Board of Trustees appealed to the decision makers to enable the Nightshelter to remain functioning until March after the worst weather had passed. 

“No” was the response.

And so, what may have been said flippantly by an officer of a district council turned into reality as we in the UK suffered the worst cold whether in 30 years.  

Maybe their strategy did depend on trouble-makers dying in the winter.  

We will never know.


This article is duplicated on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform: 

http://gullbadnogbee.typepad.com where you can better follow my adventures.


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What this Wednesday is all about

Wednesday is day filled with potential.  I remember learning about supporters and resisters, enablers and constraints.  This Wednesday I have two appointments with people who can provide information which will support and enable or resist and constrain.  

I have an appointment first thing with the Chartered Institute of Journalists and I have confirmed a meeting with what is now known as 'Geography Outdoors' with the Royal Geographical Society at 2pm.  

'Go' as it is now known used to be called the Expedition Advisory Centre (EAC).   It looks to me like the branding guys have come in and in order that an acronym can be created encouraging people to 'Go!', the whole department was renamed.  Even in its 'New Labour' - 21st century guise, I still need to seek information, advice and guidance for my no plan plan.

The decision makers probably listened to facts and arguments that 'Go' is a brand that will take the work of the department into the future or some such.  Maybe I am just a sentimentalist but the Expedition Advisory Centre did its job in an unfussy way for decades and was well respected.  

Having not been up therefore some time, I expect it is now lit with full spectrum fluorescent strips and having lost the old school wooden furniture, thread bare carpets and cluttered common-room feel in its modernizing. I certainly hope not.   It was always strange knowing that so many great explorers had been in the rooms and sat at the same old desks gave inspiration.  

Maybe so long as the job fulfilled is done in the same manner and to the same excellent standard, even if it is a sanitized un cluttered office, what does it matter?  We'll see if the 'spirit' has been lost with the old name.

I will of course update you with how I get on.

This article is duplicated on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform: HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

My first swarm

Bees had been in the headlines in 2008/9.  We were shown evidence on TV and in newspapers that it was apparent that the bee population globally was declining and at the time my lost love (who at that time was not lost) was working for a wildlife cause.  She was always talking about how she was raising money for extraordinarily expensive cycle wracks or wind turbines for visitors centres which I suppose I thought (in my ignorance) was not 'cutting edge' enough in the combat the threats to wildlife (although she did do, in my opinion, some great work for snails and mice)*.

Anyhow, I saw this dude keeping bees in Herne as I have already explained when the penny dropped; I wanted to 'do my bit'.

I immediately spoke to everyone I knew about it.  I watched half a dozen short films on You Tube and bought a copy of 'Beekeeping for Dummies'.  I remember learning from various amateur American bee keepers who were looking forward to a 'New World Order', teaching me how to install a swarm in to a new hive, ready to survive after the apocalypse.

I recovered my lean-to with ply instead of congregated plastic in order that I could walk on it.  I then installed the empty brand new hive on top of that.  My lost love was not too impressed, I don't think.

Now I had read that one can buy a new colony of bees in a box for around £150.00, but I did not really have that sort of money washing around.  I  therefore contacted a variety of local authorities and registered myself as willing to capture swarms.

Within two weeks I received a call on my mobile phone from a local council.    A swarm had been spotted on St Dunstan's and was congregating on the front of a Thai food wholesalers.

It was about 2 o'clock in the afternoon and I was at work for the homeless charity.  I was due in a meeting at 3:30.  I raced to to get home, pick up my suit and get back to the cathedral town I was based in where the swarm had been spotted.

The pulled up to the shop and went in to have it confirmed where the swarm was.

The Asian woman behind the counter first confirmed "are you the bee man?" and after I nodded, shouted at me that the swarm had attached itself to the outside of the shop.   Upon closer inspection it was clear that the swarm had targeted a yellow graphic which was stuck on the outside of the window.

It is fair to say that beyond the bee suit and the wellies, I was not too prepared for what I was there to deal with.  I am however a big advocate for 'confidence' and I had watched a host of You Tube cretins demonstrating how to catch a swarm.  I therefore decided to improvise and went across the road to the pet store asking for a box (in the bee suite who would refuse?), then I crossed the road to the hairdressers and borrowed a spray mister.  

Taking a cardboard file from my briefcase and having filled the mister with 50/50 sugar and water, I began to approach the swarm.  Cars stopped to take images of me using their mobile phones (it was a bit weird).  I sprayed the swarm liberally with the cocktail and totally focussed on licking the sugary substance from their neighbours the bees did not mind being scraped with my cardboard file into the box in great chunks of saturated masses, dropping one moving blob after another.  It is fair to say that I was extremely nervous and exited.

I closed the box, taped it up and went back to work.  I got to my meeting but, filled with adrenaline, I was useless.  I told my three bosses what I had done that afternoon and that I had a box of 30,000 bees in the trunk of my car.  They cancelled the meeting and agreed that I could get off home in order to install my swarm into my first hive.

On my way home, I telephoned the grandma of my lost love to see if she had a hair curler which I could use to install the queen (I now know that this is overkill, anyhow having seen the system on You Tube I thus emulated their example).

Grandma gave me a couple of small pink plastic curlers which I could use to cage the queen and blocking the ends with marsh-mellow, I could guarantee the swarm would not fly off again.

When I got home, I parked behind my house (Note: immediately behind my house there is a public hall).  People where starting to congregate for a meeting as I arrived and I thought I should explain to them what I was up to.  

By the time I had installed the queen and then was shaking the contents of the box into my hive, there were about 20 people 'watching'.  The whole ting turned into a public spectacle.

My bees were successfully installed.

*Although it might have been less than decisive, it was more than incidental that I thought my commitment to bees was assisting the cause my lost love was working for and thereby was reinforcing my love for her.  In fact, it just meant I was busy building hives and frames in her parent’s garage, when she wanted to go for a walk on a sunny Sunday afternoon with the dogs and her boy.  So my effort was just distracting me when I really only wanted to be with her.  As I have already described, I had a residual yearning to keep bees but my wanting to create an insect-based common interest was a prime motivator.


This article is duplicated on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform: 

http://gullbadnogbee.typepad.com where you can better follow my adventures.

Good enough to say your comments please

Yesterday my friend and I went to France for the day.

It was a great trip and I met the author of Paris Parfait, Tara Bradford.

Anyway, back to the the point of this post...,

Despite arriving well before the departure time in Folkestone, we were customarily informed that we were late and corralled into one of those service stations filled with shops and consumerist stuff you did not know you needed.  This technique must have been part of the bargain between the train company and the private vendor service station i.e 'everyone has to shop’ before they leave.

I am sure you know what these fluorescent-lit sterile places are like, designed by consumer analysts  and marketers, a host of duty free and cafe style booths surround a central hall, a coffee bar placed with 60 or so places around it and even though it is not an actual memory, I would place a bet that musac was playing.

We walked over to the ‘welcome break’ consession.  I was offered a coffee and two were ordered.  An apple was handed by my friend to be washed before purchase, then I saw it.  The leaflet by the checkout made no sense.

"The leaflet by the checkout made no sense."

I need to repeat that, the words used on the front of a point of sale leaflet made no sense as you can see.

 

This sort of thing drives me mad.  

(I would not call myself a pedant but the thought of 'customer-facing' literature written in a way that uses nonsense language gets my goat.  Its a waste of money and waste of resources all round.)
 
 






















 A little vexed, I asked the staff if it made sense to them, they smiled and nodded, I suppose a little perplexed at the reaction to a leaflet that has probably been there for months. 
 

Feeling livid, I showed my friend who agreed that the phrase used on the front of the leaflet made no sense. 
 
We decided that we should write to the CEO of Welcome Break, Mr Rod McKie, whose name was prominent on the reverse of the nonsense leaflet, inviting us to get in touch. 
 
During the trip to France the following email was drafted and I sent it today using the ‘contact us’ page.  As yet I have not heard anything. 


The email we composed reads as follows:

FAO: Rod McKie
CEO
Welcome Break

Hey Rod,

We haven't met yet, but we were keen to get in touch and thought that a direct email would be a little less formal than all of this form filling, only to then be faced with an online form!

We are regular users of the Euro Tunnel and have visited France almost 3 times now.  On our most recent trip we had the good fortune of missing our train, thus affording us the opportunity to be customers at your Coffee Primo coffee bar concession shop and found ourselves standing very near to the Eatin take-away fried food takeaway counter. It smelt tasty!

We must say, we were hugely impressed with what you have achieved so far, and if we're being candid; we think you are more than aware of your successes re the euro tunnel Welcome Break food area concession zone, given the strange location - next to a tunnel!

Having picked up your leaflet "Good enough to say your comments please" (an odd sentence, yes?), your pride shows through in your invitation for compliments.  Good work. We are sure you have given yourself and your staff a good many firm pats on the back! Have a pat from us please! Seriously, have a pat.

As we're certain you are aware, the staff you had on yesterday morning are a great bunch. Their utter enthusiasm and good looks was more than enough to compensate for the bitter taste resulting from the low-grade beans you use! Joking aside, the apple we bought was just brilliant (however, it was a little over-ripe, and had to be given a good rinse by one of your team, as it was quite sticky).

You will have heard by now of the egg incident yesterday morning (who would have thought it!), but even this wasn't sufficient to ruffle their professionalism.

Getting back to your request for 'feedback', regrettably, we are unable to pass on any 'feedback' back to you about The Burger King franchise consession, as we did not eat or smell any of the stuff. I'm sure next time we go back, we'll undoubtably get back to you with some 'feedback' back about The Burger King. No probs there. On a lighter note, under normal circumstances, we would have of course have loved to have had had one of your Burgers, as we are both loyal brand adherents to the Burger King. It's all good stuff!

If you were wondering, sorry, but we didn't use the toilets.

So, what days are you usually there, so to speak? In principle, we would be happy to meet you in the flesh, however we are quite busy people (no rest for the Wicked!). To be honest, as much notice as possible would be appreciated.

We look forward to hearing from you soon, Rod, and we can continue to contribute to the future of Welcome Break.

Yours sincerley,

Gullbad and mate

I will keep you informed of any progress made on this front.

Cheers

Gullbad


This article is duplicated on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

Swapping their paddles and harnesses in favour of overalls and tools

With a recruitment process dedicated to team dynamics, the immediate future of Actual Reality looks like it’s being carried by its front-line staff, whilst its board wrestles with the local authority to secure the castles future.    

In a dramatic rally of support from over 5000 campaigners using the social networking website, Facebook the work of a great team of instructors might have been saved.   Having joined the Facebook campaign and having engaged in the discussion boards, I was passionate about the cause and decided that I should ‘do my bit’.

"I was passionate about the cause and decided that I should - do my bit"

It was one of those spur of the moment decisions that have punctuated my life over the years.  I decided to take part in a march in support of the work of the company ‘Actual Reality’, an outdoor education provider who operates out of a picturesque castle on the West coast of Scotland.  

 

In recent months the activities of one of Scotland’s premier outdoor education centres has been put under threat.   The centre based at Castle Toward, was closed by the building’s owners, Argyll and Bute Council in November last year following a combination of both fire stipulations and overdue maintenance needs not undertaken by the council.

I landed in Glasgow on Thursday and was keen to get to grips with the issues at first hand. It was then that I was introduced to the dedicated staff of Castle Toward.  Uncertain about their professional futures, the atmosphere was light and hardworking.     I took photographs of banners on the castle advertising the forthcoming march and public meeting.

 

 


The pressure applied by local community stakeholders together with the ‘Facebook 5000’ did make a difference and at public meeting, the council made an apparent u-turn.  The council representatives declared their intent to work alongside Actual Reality to resolve the problems and re-open the castle on 1st March enabling kids from all over Scotland to benefit once again.

"the ‘Facebook 5000’ did make a difference"

The closure threat to the outdoor activity residential education centre has attracted almost 1,400 signatures on a petition calling for it to stay open and the council obviously listened. 

In early January, following the closure and amid heavy criticism of Argyll and Bute Council for its handling of the situation, local supporters requested that South Cowal Community Council facilitate a public meeting to discuss the situation, with council officers in attendance.

Representatives of Argyll and Bute Council and Actual Reality Learning and Leadership Ltd had a very positive meeting on 22nd January which cut ‘the Gordian Knot’.

Following a gathering of supporters around the bandstand in Dunoon, at a public meeting on Saturday 30th January, Dr Chris Mason speaking on behalf of the Directors of Actual Reality explained, “the 1st March opening date is a great step forward and the company is now engaged in negotiations with a view of buying the castle and a proportion of the estate from Argyll and Bute”.

"the 1st March opening date is a great step forward"

Image courtesy of Dunoon Observer and Argyllshire Standard

Whilst the Facebook campaigners are still gearing up to fight the rest of the war in support of buying the castle, staff at the castle are fighting their own battle at the front line leading up to the 1st March. 

In a push to complete remedial works required in order that Castle Toward is fully occupied and used for residential accommodation, it’s all hands on deck, with instructors swapping their paddles and harnesses in favour of overalls and tools. 

 

The council released a statement saying, “If the agreed works are completed to the satisfaction of both parties, Castle Toward will be able to be used by Actual Reality for the delivery of its outdoor education programme.”

 




In an official statement released by Actual Reality it was confirmed “Castle Toward is a beacon, a bright light on the radar of Scottish education provision whose contribution to the skills, knowledge, attitudes and understanding of countless young people is legend.  We are now all going to work together to carry that capacity forward for future generations thus helping to develop the confident and responsible citizens and contributors upon whom so much will depend as we face more and more complicated options for a sustainable future”.

Pete “Pedro” Clark, Senior Instructor for Castle Toward, overseeing an 18-strong team of outdoor educators said “It’s fantastic that everyone has rallied so hard to get the place ready for the kids when they start coming again.”

"It’s fantastic that everyone has rallied so hard"

Later during the interview when describing how staff are recruited Pete explained, “unlike some other centres up and down the country, it’s not about being macho or testosterone fuelled, it’s not about whether a person has the best kit or has the most qualifications. It’s about whether they will fit in and contribute positively to the team.”






Reading the comments left on the discussion board of the Facebook group, it’s clear that the team make a big difference to 6000 or so kids who pass through the centre every year before considering the secondary positive effects the castle brings to the surrounding local community.   

"my thoughts rest on the Castle Toward instructors and their battle I think they will win"

During my limited time sitting in the staff room and sharing tea-breaks with the crew, I left feeling inspired that the castle is in safe hands.  The front-line instructors are a light hearted and passionate bunch.  They are the heart-beat of the castle without whom, the castle just turns into a  Victorian pile of stone and mortar. 

 





As one member of the ‘Facebook 5000’ and reflecting on my experience whilst on my flight down to Gatwick, my thoughts rest on the Castle Toward instructors and their battle I think they will win.   
 
For further information see:

http://www.actualrealitycentres.com

http://www.argyll-bute.gov.uk

Facebook

Forargyll.com

End.

This article is duplicated on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform: HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

STEPHEN LADYMAN MP

STEPHEN LADYMAN MP

(LABOUR)

In 1997 Stephen was elected as the MP for South Thanet, defeating ex-cabinet minister Jonathan Aitken.  Steve is very much a 'constituency' MP and works closely with Thanet and Dover Councils, Kent County Council and the other public bodies to drive forward the regeneration of South Thanet. He visits local businesses, farms, voluntary bodies, schools and other local organisations every week to make sure that he stays in touch with their needs.  He and his family live in the constituency and his parliamentary office and all his staff are based there.  After the 2001 General Election Steve Ladyman became Parliamentary Private Secretary to the Minister for the Armed Forces (Rt Hon Adam Ingram MP). He was also appointed as ‘Liaison MP’ for the Netherlands and became Chair of the British Dutch All Party Group. Steve is probably best known in Parliament for his special interest in Autism, and he Chaired the all-party group on Autism, which he helped to set up.  In 2003 Steve was made the Parliamentary Under Secretary of State for Community in the Department of Health and from 2005 to 2007 he was Minister of State for Transport.  Steve is now Vice Chair of the Labour Party with particular responsibility for campaigning in the South East.

What is your favourite meal?
Bacon spare ribs and lentil soup.

Can you tell us about your favorite piece of music?
Faure’s Requiem, Turandot and You’ll Never Walk Alone

How would your friends describe you?
That b*****d! But hopefully with a smile on their face.

If you did not do the job you do, what different field or occupation do you think you might have succeeded in or liked to do?
Play for Liverpool

Do you have a hidden talent?
Playing table football (the type with the players on handles)

What small change do you consider would make the biggest positive difference?
Executing people who don’t clear up after their dogs              

Is there anything you would like to see universally outlawed?
Voting Conservative
       
Which of your contemporaries do you admire the most? 
Tony Blair - for forgetting that I once told him to ‘pull himself together’

Can you tell me about a charity which deserves support?
CALM – the Campaign Against Living Miserably - that tries to prevent young men committing suicide.  http://www.thecalmzone.net/

Is there a question I have not thought to ask or something you would like to add? 
Should anyone without a sense of humour be banned from commenting on the above? The answer is yes!
 

For more information on Stephen Ladyman MP CLICK HERE

JULIAN BRAZIER TD MP

JULIAN BRAZIER TD MP

(CONSERVATIVE)

Elected to Parliament for Canterbury and Whitstable in 1987.  In 2005 Julian was appointed Shadow Transport Minister with responsibility for aviation and shipping.  Julian Brazier was educated at Wellington College and won a scholarship in Mathematics to Oxford University.  Julian worked for nine years with Charter Consolidated plc, (mining and industrial holding company), doing economic research, corporate finance and as secretary to the executive directors.  Then three years with HP Maynard as an international management consultant.  He served as an officer in the Territorial Army for thirteen years, six of them in Airborne forces.  A practising Christian (R.C.), he is married to Katharine and they have three sons.

What is your favorite meal?
Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding followed by lemon meringue pie.


Can you tell us about your favorite piece of music?
Tchaikovsky's 5th Symphony

How would your friends describe you?
Enthusiastic

If you did not do the job you do, what different field or occupation do you think you might have succeeded in or liked to do?
Writer/novelist

Do you have a hidden talent?
Writing, i would like to think


What small change do you consider would make the biggest positive difference?
Abolishing negligence cases for sport and adventure training organisations


Is there anything you would like to see universally outlawed?
The use of the word "like" as a substitute for "as"


Which of your contemporaries do you admire the most?
Richard Holmes


Can you tell me about a charity which deserves support?
Help for Heroes http://www.helpforheroes.org.uk/


Is there a question I have not thought to ask or something you would like to add?
Not really


For more information on Julian Brazier TD MP CLICK HERE

This article is duplicated on the new Gullbad Nogbee platform:

HERE where you can better follow my adventures.

When I consider every thing that grows

Once these words of love were wrote.

When I consider every thing that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;
When I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky,
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave state out of memory;
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
Where wasteful Time debateth with decay
To change your day of youth to sullied night,
And all in war with Time for love of you,
As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

And then the love was lost.

The day I 'nearly' joined the army

I remember looking through the window, trying to work out what job I could do to earn a similar amount of money I was on, when a soldier came to the door in camouflage garb and invited me inside the shop.

I was outside the army and navy shop, just off Trafalgar Square, and I was killing time after having arrived for work in Endell Street a couple of hours early.  It was in summer in the year 2000.  Vince the admin guy working in the hostel had suggested I take a walk and attempt to kill time before my 10 hour shift.  It was during the impromptu meander that I found myself looking at ads in the window of the services shop.

The guy was nice enough and after sitting behind his desk he asked me for some basic details.  He finally asked me to explain what had motivated me to look to the army for career options.  I recall laughing and explaining to him that my shift was to start at 3pm and that I had arrived at work early - that was the limit of my motivation!

The poor recruitment officer filled in the forms and finally after finishing the cup of tea and biscuits I had been given, I signed the completed paper on the dotted line, confirming that the information contained was accurate.

I left the shop to start my work that day and thought no more about it.

A few weeks later I received a letter confirming with me that my application for the army had failed.  My medical records had been checked and due to my having suffered from 'atopic eczema' on my finger when aged 8 years old, the army just could not take the chance.

I empathized with the recruitment officers since to the best of my recollection the affliction had mainly lingered on my right hand trigger finger.

Although not a serious career option, I was a little sorry to hear that I had been rejected as a grunt.  Notwithstanding that, I have kept the letter of rejection safe, for what it is worth.

Note: I would like to stress that although I treated the whole 'near miss' of being part of the services with a certain degree of ambivalence, I do have an enormous amount of respect for people who commit to a service as a career and, in particular, respect for those people who sacrifice themselves in the defense of their country.


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Making life simpler

A couple of days ago, I spent time going through all of the direct debits and standing orders I no longer needed or rated.

For years I had systematically joined a host of institutions and societies which I thought gave me some sort of 'respectability'.

I stopped going to meetings back in August and in some cases downgraded membership to a 'country' status.

Most of them were useless and amounted to at least a third of outgoings where I saw no return.  Sure, they sent journals or magazines through my door, but ultimately, what did I have to show for it?  Nothing.

Ultimately as I have found out too late, self respect and happiness is all that matters.  You can have all the memberships in the world, but if your alone and miserable, they're less than worthless. 

So out went the spaghetti alphabet of nonsense, except for the Royal Geographical Society.  Of all, the RGS may now be useful.

We will see.

For more information on the Royal Geographical Society (CLICK HERE) 

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Shiiin, Jet Stream, White earphones and moustachioed Dan

On 15 January I went to see Shiiin, Jet Stream, White earphones; an art exhibition of work by my old pal (See: LINK HERE).

It was a great do and a bunch of other pals from a past life were there too.

It's rare to see Damien and so the fact that I saw him alongside a whole load of joint friends and his Dad (who is a great man to talk to) was a real pleasure.

I also caught up with Dan, a moustachioed dude I remember from Bromley, he now works for a magazine.

We chatted about our different positions and it was Dan who suggested I write a blog of my adventures. "Everyone loves the idea of just walking away!", Dan shouted over the din.

He went on, "Of course! Everyone wants to give their dog to a neighbour and go abroad. And if they can't actually do it, they like to read about people who do!".

Dan encouraged me to get in touch with magazines and explore who might be interested in taking written work on spec with the blog as a background for people to follow.

So thanks to Dan, 'we are where we are' (as JW used to say).

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Trust the gut

After the New Year madness in the Clyde, I drove down South, dogless and keen to know whether fate would give me reason to stick around or not.

I arrived home and checked my post and emails - no documents.

I sent an email from my iPhone to my contact explaining the frustration of needing documents I had been instrumental in writing and not receiving them. I explained that if I did not receive them over the course of the week, I would walk away. The feeling itself was quite liberating.

On the Tuesday I had a response. The documents would not be with me. As I suspected.

I emailed my old bosses and explained my position. I reflected on the situation and can see that maybe more space and time is needed by the incumbent management to update the existing documents in order that they have 'ownership'. I confirmed that I was happy to walk away for a year when I would check back in to see if they needed any help then.

This caused some small amount of resentment from the incumbent, but as adults we explained our different positions to each other and I hope parted with mutual respect.

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New Year and Snakes Blood Soup

I have never seen in the New Year in Scotland.  I have been there for the period between Christmas and New Year lots of times, but generally drove back down for the night itself to be spent in Calais Gate with chums.

Last year was spent in with the lost love. So soon after Dad going, it was not really a happy occasion. In fact I recall I went to bed early despite there being an Elton concert televised.

This time my sister telephoned me in early December. She said that a charity swim was being organised at Inellan down the road from where she lives. She asked "would I join in?"

"Of course!", without thinking, I confirmed that I would do it.

As the weeks went by and the day approached I became a little hesitant. As I drove from home to Scotland through the snow I watched the outside temperature fall from a balmy 0°C to -6°C.



The days wore on and my trepidation increased. As I have explained before, 2nd Christmas was great, but between Christmas and the dip, only time. Even that's not entirely true, since we went for walks, and played Lego so diversionary activities were plentiful.




My sister confirmed a few days before that Old Years Night (as our Nan calls it) would be spent at a dance organized by a local dairy farm in the Toward community hall. It turned out to be great and ranked as highly by me as a barn dance wedding I once attended near Brighton. The best ever wedding of a friend I have ever been to, but that's another story.

The New Year dance was great. A bloke with a synth and a mic, sang a range of songs including some traditional Scottish dances (which is always a good laugh so long as you can follow the people in front) including 'stripping the willow,   the dashing something and something else'. It was a real laugh.

New Year came, balloons fell from the ceiling, my sister and brother in law danced.

2010 was here! Hoorah! Gone was the back-end of the worst period in my life.

Then came morning.

For Christmas my sister had bought me a "Keep calm and carry on" t-shirt and we decided to wear the same as a uniform. I had found my sun hat from a few years ago and we both had blue shorts on.

It should at this point be explained that we knew a few people who had borrowed wet suits for the dip, but for some reason, we decided that if you are going to swim in the freezing cold, you might as well do it. "Wet suits are for wimps", we chanted!!

The support crew (brother in law and nephew) were both carrying the cameras and 'snakes blood soup' (which tasted remarkably like tomato?) was poured into the Thermos flask.

My sister and I ran next door to gather some more troops (successfully getting swimming agreement from two with the rest of the family in support - G looked particularly fragile but was in fine spirits).

Then the time came.  A hundred or so strangers lined the beach at Inellan and a few other people were in fancy dress with wings like 'arctic fairies' ready to take the plunge. In all I estimate that 25, or so, of us were there for the swim.

Having duly signed the obligatory health and safety disclaimer and paid our £5.00 entry fee, a wonderful fancy statue of liberty started the countdown.

We were off.


My sister and I had already agreed to swim further out than any others and that swimming was not confirmed unless total immersion had been achieved.

I was proud to say that my sun hat floated at least twice straight from my bobbing head.

We gained our footing and both stood up. Shaking hands to the sounds of shrieks and screams of the natives running for the shore we calmly chatted for a bit and agreed to go in again one more time. This time it hurt!

We got out and waded in as controlled a fashion as we could into shore.

Warmed by towel and snakes blood soup, a shot of whiskey was passed to each of the swimmers by the organisers.

We all congratulated each other and having got dressed, proceeded to get back into the car and return home, triumphant!

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Doing is the best practice

It was May 2009.  After seeing a white suited man tending his bees in Herne I immediately started to watch bee keeping video’s on You Tube and bought ‘The Dummies Guide to Beekeeping’. 

I was brought up to understand that Granddad had always said, “There’s not time lost in reconnaissance”.

Reconnaissance involved not just watching a few short films on the internet and flicking through the plates throughout the Dummies Guide, I also signed up with my local branch of the British Beekeeping Association.

The leader of the group is called Trevor Tong and he is one of the nicest and most enthusiastic beekeepers I have ever met.  He is a real joy to be near when discussing the subject.  There is nothing about bees he does not know and I have had lots of advice from his wife over the telephone.

Armed with a new pair of marigolds and wellington boots, I went along to my first meeting of the branch at Honey Hill.  During this sunny afternoon and for the first time, I held a frame and spotted the queen.  I was hooked and raring to get started.

I spoke to all the people there about my plan to keep bees in the centre of town.  Most were generally enthusiastic, but suggested I practice for a year by coming along to the club. 

Within the week I had ripped the corrugated plastic from atop my lean-to at the back of the house and replaced it with plywood, which I could stand on.  I had my beekeeping stage set.

I bought a ‘National’ hive kit from the Blue Bell Apiaries in Gillingham and having put that together in the garage of my lost loves parent’s house, I was prepared to house and keep a colony of bees.

Doing is the best practice and I was keen to start being a practising beekeeper as soon as I could.

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How I started to keep bees

Twelve years ago, I worked in a homeless hostel just South of London Bridge, not too far from the Tate Modern.  It was during that time that I met a guy who worked for the same charity.  Let's say his name was Richard.  Richard was a senior manager, whilst I was a grunt, trying to promote meaningful occupation to the residents of the hostel.  It was a great job and I met some great people, but that’s another story.

Richard was waiting to meet with the hostel manager.  I was working on the computer in the office.  There was awkwardness  that often occurs when people too many layers of management higher than another are put in close proximity together. It’s similar to the silence that befalls the contents of elevators.  He did not want to speak to me, not wanting to undermine his management colleague, and I did not want to talk to him, fearing I might say something or answer a question in such a way that might get my manager in hot water, and ultimately make me suffer.

 I offered him tea but in the end, the ice had to be broken using a neutral subject.  One finds this in every walk of life.  Strangers are able to open up to one another by talking about neutral childhood experiences or songs that were sung, old TV programmes like Morph, or Bod, He-Man, Thundercats, or Blue Peter spring to mind as fine examples.

So it was we spoke about good news stories related to our work and success that I was having, together with challenges everyone faces when working with homeless people living in difficult circumstances. 
The conversation naturally moved on to discuss meaningful occupation in general when much to my relief; Richard started talking about his own passion for bee keeping.  I was immediately off the hook.

It turned out that Richard had bees in Surrey and also kept bees on the balcony of his flat in London.  He spoke about the different honey he harvested.  He explained that country honey was lighter in colour and was cultivated from mono-crops in the surrounding farm land whereas, London honey was dark and rich more treacle-like and more ‘tropical’; because of the diverse flowers and plants grown in the patchwork of gardens, hanging baskets and window boxes across the city.  

Richard spoke about how when inspecting the frames within his hives and lifting them with the sun shining through from behind, all manner of colour pollens might be seen ranging from yellows, oranges and reds, through blues and purples. I remember being enthralled.

Minutes later, Richard was being shown into the Diamond Managers office and I never saw him again.

Twelve years later in May 2009, I was driving through Herne in Kent.  In the front garden of a bungalow, a man in a white overall bee suite was tending to a hive.  The sun was shining and I stopped the car to watch for a minute or two.  The thoughts of Richard’s story of honey from all those days ago flooded back.

I decided there and then that I would keep bees within the month subject of course to feedback recieved from those close to me.

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What are you doing with the house?

“What are you doing with your house?” came the message from Facebook.

My pal, already looking to take care of my fish, was enquiring about the gaff.

In my ‘no-plan’ plan, again I had not really thought about the detail and so having thought about it for all of a millisecond, I answered, “probably going to see if I can rent it.”

Later that day, another message came with a plan all laid out.  Subject to figures, they would rent the house and look after the fish and bees.

As it happens her and her boyfriend are looking to move.  They are thinking of buying an old barn and converting it to live the good life nearer to Bristol and Bath.

We talked figures which covered my mortgage and although not signed in blood, its pretty much agreed.

They are looking to move in during the third week of March.

They have seen the house before and so know its unique condition and in a couple of weeks they are going to pop down with his two little kids to check out kiddie amenities.

All of that from a Facebook message asking about help with fish.


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Facebook and fish

In my house I have three aquariums.

One is significantly bigger than the two others and has six coldwater goldfish swimming in it (one big and five very small).  The two small tanks were bought for me by my lost love as birthday presents a few years ago.  At their zenith they accommodated a thriving community of Guppies. 

Guppies are live bearing and breed like nothing else.  With such short breeding cycles you can successfully influence new colours and shape strains within a matter of months.  Lots of interest was given to 'the Gupsters' and notes were kept on the kitchen notice board of their names, with corresponding tail drawings, identifying who was who.  I would recommend Gupsters to anyone, but most especially for families with kids.

With the 'no-plan plan' and after I had agreed the placement for Noggin I was now thinking about the fish.

"What to do with the fish tanks?", I said to myself.  Then the answer came, "Facebook!"

I try to keep my status updated or at least relevant to where life is and so I put the problem to my enormous cohort of 'friends' (a minority of whom I have seen, whilst the majority I probably have not seen or spoken to for 20 years and some are just strangers who wanted to be my friend and who appeared to be friendly enough).

Within a day an old pal had messaged back, her and her boyfriend were happy to take the big one.  This was excellent news.  The no-plan plan is now really coming together.

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Dogs are such ties

Having the idea to walk away is one thing; actually walking away is another "What about the dog for God sake?"

That is a good question.

I love dogs and have lived all my life with them. Honey, Penny, Tess, Pip, Fynn and Noggin have acted as hairy punctuation marks, defining episodes both happy and sad. Noggin more so than any I have had before. A little Lakeland Terrier, I took Noggin to work most days and she was a great joy to have in the work environment.

Noggin is a real sweet little thing, whose character is only marred by her instinct to fight and or kill anything that moves. Rabbits, chickens and rats have all been mortally wounded by this otherwise cute scruffy little brown dog.

Well, laying in the bath on Christmas Eve reflecting on misspent opportunity and a soul destroyed future, I had not considered little Noggin. What to do with Noggin?

I had not really thought about that question at all! In between Christmas Eve (Thurs) and the Sunday, I had started to tell folk about my broad plan. Getting out, going off and doing stuff...but nothing about what happens to lives that depend on me. Maybe that is a clue why everything went so wrong? Broad strokes fine! Detail - shit!

When it came to the detail of how I was to untangle myself from this life of things and stuff, I had not really applied myself yet and this included my responsibilities to Noggin.

Anyway there was time to think about that after I got back from my sisters in the 'badlands of the north' - or Scotland as it is also known. Early in the morning in a slight sleet, Noggin and I set off North.

Traffic was a nightmare! A journey that normally takes nine hours, took 12, through rain, sleet and snow. What was just above freezing down south had turned into a constant -5°C! But it was all worth it.

When I arrived long after the bed time of the average six year old, my little nephew was awoken. With his eyes still shut and with a floppy torso a coat was slipped over is pyjamas and wellington boots were tugged on by his mum.

As is the family tradition, out in the street twigs and sticks were placed in the shape of arrows (to guide Santa) whilst 'magic' glitter was sprinkled across the top of them. Little boy still asleep, he turned around and trudged back into the house and went back to bed. The whole operation was conducted in silence.

Suffice to say Santa found his way and as a result '2nd Christmas' was a success with all satisfied.

Brother in laws cooking was incredible again and I put on half a stone during the seven days I was there.

It was the day after 2nd Christmas Day that a sporadic collection of the neighbours six children started to pop in and play with the nephew and Noggin. They're great kids and excellent fun to be with, for my nephew it’s like have a readymade bunch of cousins or siblings on the doorstep, both households living in each other’s pockets and sharing stories, songs and jokes.

I popped next door to have a chat with the parents (they having travelled and were good inspiring examples of what happens when people go abroad) a couple of times and as well as being made welcome with G&T, was entertained with lively conversation and photo albums of time spent in far off lands.

The neighbours raised the conversation of the dog. Whether this was contrived by my sister I do not know. In any event and without any predetermined agenda, it turned out that they were investigating getting a dog and were interested in providing a long fixed-term placement for Noggin.

I consulted via text with my lost love who confirmed that she was not allowed to take custody of Noggin. So the god's had decided Noggin was to stay in Scotland (at least for 15 months).

The dog had kept me sane over the last few months. When everything was at its worst and I was in a dark place, having to look after Noggin, having to feed her and having to take her out, kept me alive. But if I was no longer tied to my dog, then I was not tied to anything anymore.

Even less reason to stay where I am.

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Boxing Day

Boxing Day was spent with my Nan and Aunty. Nan is 88 and born at home at Church Row, Limehouse in 1921. Aunty is 50 and looks 37!! A self-styled matriarch, Nan has caused happiness and sorrow in equal measure over her long life.

It was a good day and we were able to get Nan to Aunty’s new house to watch a film. Nan was really on form and very witty. She liked the house and the log burning stove.

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The Beginning

Now to the beginning:

It's Christmas Eve and whilst in the bath this evening it occurred to me that everything I hung my life on up until now no longer exists. My work, my love, my aim and the very reason I ended up living here has gone in just over twelve months. I am not enjoying my pointless existence and my aimlessness is overpowering me as it does whenever I reflect on where I am and where I am not going very fast.

Apart from Dad passing away at the back end of 2008, at least a proportion of the rest I brought on myself; by way of things I did or did not do and things I said or did not say that I should have.

Since I 'retired' from my job in early November I have been trying to create an associate-based consultancy targeting the voluntary sector. I suppose that due to cowardice, this seemed do-able and likely to lead to success. I was successful in negotiating an agreement with a small homelessness charity (my former employer) and looked forward to getting back to work. For lots of different reasons core documents I needed to do the work were not forwarded to me and after two months of trying, I had been informed a couple of days before that the documents I needed were on a PC which had been given away to sell. The documents were effectively lost. I was reassured that the new manager would try to obtain copies, but I was not confident. Reflecting in the bath, the likelihood of getting the documents I needed seemed absolutely remote and represented a last straw.

It occurred to me that I want to change everything I am. Vague words engraved on the Burma memorial by the Embankment struck me about ‘bold acts being the safest’. I need to do something bold (without being rash or stupid). I want to see new places, speak to new people and have new thoughts. My favourite Ghandi quote springs to mind and I am determined to 'become the change I want to see'.

Given the opportunity, which I am going to create, what would I do? I like photography and I liked learning to scuba. I will go somewhere warm, learn more scuba to the point of excellence and take photographs...or something like that.

I have telephoned my late father’s wife, my Godmother and my sister and I told them my bold idea. All have said it's good.

I don't really have a plan but maybe that is the point. No more stifling plans or obligations which only represent 'vanity and vexation of spirit'.

In the old Ava Gardener flick, Pandora measures love by sacrifice and so maybe too late, I give up my lot for the sake of lost love.

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How this is going to work

You need to be patient while I bring you up to date with what has happened over the last month. After the preamble, I will then keep you informed of what's going on as regulaly as I can and for when I can't, a network of chums will help to update you via the contents of postcards I send to them. In this way, things I see, people I meet and experiences I have will be shared with you, whether I have internet access or not. You should also note that throughout these meanderings names of individuals and places have been changed where it helps protect the subject or myself.

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