The Final Frontier, Worcester, 31st December, 2013.

Emlyn has lived here with us for three and a half years now and it's taken him that long to feel comfortable in our office/junk room (aka the second bedroom). That's real progress!

Nice compression socks Vic, by the way.

Worcester, Sunday, 29th December, 2013.

Poor Vicky. Not recovered by any means from her surgery and made to walk all the way to the River (and back) despite her sore tumby and certainly in no mood to smile for a 'selfie' (oh no).

Worcester, Friday, 27th December, 2013.

Kayakers kayaking in their kayaks around Worcester Racecourse.

Meanwhile, back at HQ, Emlyn receives a grooming from somebody recuperating and who shouldn't be bending down (even when sitting) to give Emlyn a grooming.

'Yeh, go on Mum, right there, that's it.'

Christmas Day, 2013.

It's everyone's duty at Xmas to keep capitalism going by always discarding the olde and embracing the new. So, it's out with the slot cars and in with a non-digital battery powered train set.

Verdict? Goes like the clappers but the handling leaves a lot to be desired.

Vicky is recuperating from her recent surgery so does not wish to have her photo taken today, thank you. So Emlyn's job is to act as a barrier between lens and subject at all times whilst she instructs David on the black arts of cooking a splendiferous Christmas dinner.

The stuffing is standing and the veggos are ready for chopping.

The Chef creates some chicken-sausage meat and turkey-bacon rolls.

The sounds and smells of cooking are a constant source of fascination (not to mention torture).

If my legs looked like those I wouldn't show 'em off, no way!

Things have gone well so far but David is in need of a power nap prior to the climatic intensity of 'serving it all up'.

All-in-all, it went pretty well, all things considered. 

Not as good as one of Vicky's but ok for a first attempt.

Vicky gave it a 19/20. Emlyn scored it 20/20. He particularly liked his bacon and stuffing on a ocean of gravy.

Worcester, Tuesday 24th December, 2013.

This photo was taken from roughly the same spot as the one of the rowers 

in their Xmas hats in our last blog.

Just shows how much rain has fallen over the past few days.

The river must have risen by 10' since then.

Worcester, Saturday, 14th December, 2013.

Hmm, Christmas must be on the way.

Batsford Arboretum, Sunday, 17th November, 2013.

First things first. It's straight into the cafe for some pre-walk fuel: in David's case a roast pork lunch with all the trimmings. Vicky settles for the butternut squash, brie and veggo tart (and most of the trimmings). All washed down with tea (what else).

The snapper snapped.

A chap and his wives enjoying the peace and quiet of a misty Cotswold Sunday afternoon.

Oh (puff) me poor (pant) aching back (gasp). 

The things we do for fungi.

Nice boots, by the way.

Howard puts down his camera and blends in.

The Cotswolds looking very Cotswoldian.

Is Cotswoldian a word?

It is now.

Fungal army on the march in Worcester shock! Thursday, 7th November.

Autumn is here at last.

You can tell 'cos armies of these 'fun guy' chaps suddenly appear hellbent on taking over.

Here's the same army from the rear. Look at how they are making a pincer movement on the unsuspecting racecourse. 

Thankfully, there isn't another meeting 'til next May.

Here's another regiment, albeit of a slightly different sort. 

That tree stump's got no chance.

Evesham Cats Protection, Sunday, 27th October, 2013.

Vicky gives Ziggy, who was born with a neurological disorder but has also been clouted by a car, some love. A more affectionate boy you would be hard pressed to meet but, 'cos of his 'wobbly nature', he'll now spend the rest of his days at the centre as one of the 'let out daily' brigade.

Dave with a cat who is, amazingly, even more affectionate than Ziggy. 

This is Wesley and he's absolutely lovely.

These small pens are what normally constitute the 'Medical Centre', but as there are so many cats in the pens outside today these little cages are being used by cats waiting to be re-homed. 

F = Ziggy, you've met him already.

Oi! Getcha tail outtavit! I'm 'avin' me photo took!

'Ben the cock' is still with us but at least he's stopped crowing about stuff so much now.

He's getting a new pen later today.

Meet three-fifths of the 'every 4th Sunday' crew. From left to right: Mikki, Vicky (with Sox - not long for this world), and Lucy.  

It's about 12:15 and Lucy (Helen will be here any minute) has arrived to take over until closing time. Normally, we are keen to get going so we can get home to fall asleep.....er.........I mean watch whichever F1 GP is on at 1pm. However, today, it doesn't start 'til 2pm so we have more time for chat after the usual handover. We chat about the weather and the predicted storm arriving this evening and the need to batten down the hatches; Lucy reveals that she knows who won the F1 GP - she is immediately told in no uncertain terms to say nowt; then we chat about the latest episode of Inspector Montalbano (commissare! dotore! etc) which gives David ample opportunity to use his best cod Italian accent much to his amusement if nobody else's.

Then it's back to Worcester for a wash and brush up, something to eat, feed Emlyn, and then settle down to sleep thru'....ahem.....I mean avidly watch the F1 GP.

N.B. After all that worry, the storm amounts to some rain and a bit of a stiff breeze (the south and east got it much worse by all accounts) so the cats should all have been fine. 

No doubt, we'll find out next month.

Birmingham Rep, Saturday, 19th October, 2013.

Wow! That's a sign you don't see very often nowadays. Bodes well.

This is what we've come to see today. We remember the film. It was a goodun.

There's a good cast. Stella even. 

There's that bloke who used to be a professional in the Henry Fonda role. You know the bloke - him wot went to the same school as Vicky and had the same drama teacher and who had before us the very same CBR1000 that we had the loan of from Honda UK to do the 1988 National Rally. Yeah, him.

Then there's that Napoleon Solo-fella wot was in The Magnificent Seven and was in Corrie in more recent times. On top of that there's that not-as-young-as-he-was young actor wot was in that British gangster movie - you know the film, it had that hard-knock midfield-thug footballer in it who now tells ya to sing Stayin' Alive when yer saving someone's life - and was Directed by that English fella who used to be married to that awful American pop star with the conical proverbials. Also, there's a genuine Hollywood star wot was in The Lawnmower Man, Wyatt Earp, and Lost, plus several other thespians who have been in the RSC in their time. So you can say there's definitely a keen sense of anticipation in the air as we take our seats for the performance.

The play certainly lived up to expectations. That's by far the best of the three we have been to see so far this year. As we recall the film was quite dour but this production, while still cranking up the 'anger', has some laugh-out-loud moments as well. I think us English can't help but chortle at Americans tripping themselves up (hoist by their own petard, if you will). Two curtain calls an' all. So, all-in-all, very very good. The time has flown by.

Unfortunately, it is raining now. However, that has given us a chance to have a sit down in the theatre foyer for a few minutes. By the time most of the audience has dispersed four of the cast (including that bloke from Lost who's wearing a typical hat favoured by thespian types) are sat at the next seats from us having a well earned tea and a slice of cake (you can see 'em if you look hard enough at one of the tables in the Rep windows to the left of Vicky's bonce. Go on, have a look, you know you want to). We think about going over and saying how much we enjoyed the performance but bottle it. I mean, thespians aren't motorcycle racers are they.

So rather than walk thru' town (as we planned) to our favourite Italian restaurant (Bella Pasta) and get soaking wet, we simply walk thru' the Convention Centre and eat at Strada, the Italian Restaurant in there. We won't be defeated!

Whilst there two other members of the cast wander in (separately) for a meal. Again we decide not to congratulate them on their performances. It's not the done thing y'know.

After a nice meal it's back to the car park and the drive to Droitwich for the weekly shop just for some contrast.

There you go.

Stroud and Cirencester, Saturday, 12th October, 2013.

We've driven down the M5 to Stroud today but, although the weather is much nicer here, the town is failing to impress us despite all its best efforts. 

We've been here for some time by this point and although we have strolled around a bit, bought some mags from a newsagent, and had lunch, this is the first photo we have taken. The street market is closing and most people are heading home by 2:30pm. The sticks, eh?

Howard going potty.

Produce. It's fresh. Buy it now.

Had enough of Stroud now Dave. Let's go to Cirencester on the way home.

Ah, that's better. A nice cuppa tea in Keith's. Fortitude for the drive back up the M5 and the rain falling in sheets in Worcestershire.

Shan't rush back to Stroud but we'll always find time for a visit to Cirencester (as long as Keith's is open, that is. Sometimes it's shut and then it isn't half as nice).

Thursday, 10th October, 2013.

It's an outrage! There's a meeting on today at The Racecourse so I can't take my usual constitutional along the river. I am forced to use an alternative route to the north which although it lacks the sight of river water imperceptibly flowing past has, as I hope you can see, some consolations of its own.

Not too bad then.

BSB, Silverstone, Saturday, 5th October, 2013.

Our unexceptional exceptional (depending on who you listen to) summer continues and we have another long day ahead of us.

We're up at 7, out at 10, and arrive at the circuit at 11:20.

We park up and walk inside, buy a programme and then stroll to Luffield for a tea and a wee.

Distance walked so far: 0.5 miles (roughly).

11:40am at Brooklands: Superstock 600 Qualifying has begun and it's all happening. 

But where's his 'bike?

Ah, there it is!

It's a Kawasaki and the rider was Dan Stamper for those of you taking notes.

Distance walked so far: 0.75 miles.

12:00. Mason Law (and somebody else) prove that Superstock 'bikes can be ridden through Brooklands without crashing.

12:10. Vicky is adamant. When (not if) we win The Lottery we are buying a Triumph Sprint which we will put in our big garage next to the Ferrari 458 Spider (in black). Unlike the Spider, which we will actually take out on the roads and drive, we will simply stand and admire the Triumph (and occasionally polish it). 

Distance walked so far: 1 mile.

12:30. On the paddock-side of the Wellington Straight now and the Superstock 1000's are doing their Qualifying. This is Jonathan Railton on his Kawasaki.

Hmm, that reminds me, I must put a touch of lubricant on the cogs of our slot cars at some point.

Distance walked so far: 1.25 miles.

12:50. In the outer reaches of the paddock now and slowly making our way to the Paddock Cafe for a spot of lunch. Plenty to see along the way yet tho'. This is young Supersport 600 rider John Ingram being advised to gas it down the straights (or something equally technical).

Distance walked so far: 1.5 miles.

 

Limbering up: Ricky Stevens and Ryan Charlwood about to go out to qualify.

1:20. We've bolted down our lunch and had a swift cuppa tea in the Paddock Cafe and are now exploring the paddock once more. 

Here we suffer a member of the public spoiling a nice shot of Tristan and Tim Reeves who have won the Sidecar World Championship five times and are about to win the British Championship for the 5th time. Luckily, we've just taken a shot of them on their own so all is not lost.

Distance walked so far: 1.75 miles.

1:40. The Motostar riders will be qualifying at 2.00 so teams are getting prepared to go out on track. Some of the riders are unfeasibly young and obviously enjoy making olde people feel even older. Cheers for that! This one is Asher Durham. 

1:55. Yet another unsuspecting, friendly, genious-motorcyle racer is corralled into having his photo taken with an olde-fella by Vicky. This one is Michael Laverty (on a busman's holiday).

2:05. The loneliness of the long distance amateur photographer.

We're by the National Pit Straight now at the point the riders begin to tip it into Copse.

Distance walked so far: 2.0 miles.

2:10. The Motostar class is now an intriguing battle between the older and cheaper 125 2-strokes (like these two being ridden by Milo Ward and Joseph Thomas) and.................

..............(2:25) the state-of-the-art and more expensive 250 4-stroke Moto3 'bikes like this one of South African Jordan Weaving (at Copse). I think I know which ones my money will be on in the long term (and it isn't the two strokes).

Distance walked so far: 2.25 miles.

2:30. You sure it isn't going to rain, says Vic, as she takes a shot of the circuits new College building nearing completion. Er, no, says Dave. 

It didn't actually rain but it was close!

2:45. Back to the Wellington Straight (paddock side) and the BSB boys (and one girl) are out qualifying. These two riders indulging in a formation fly past are Jakub Smrz and Nori Haga.

Distance walked so far: 2.5 miles.

3:29. Sam Lowes has stuck it on Pole and he simply can't resist!

Distance walked so far: 2.75 miles.

3:41. We're at Village now.

Supersport 600 race leader, Stuart Easton, binned his Yamaha at Farm on lap one. He slid all the way to Village on his arse. Good stuff mate. Here the marshals shift his 'bike out of the way while a shamefaced (we presume) Mr Easton is given a ride back to the paddock.

Distance walked so far: 3.00 miles.

3:55. After a brilliant race the Supersport victory goes to Alastair Seeley and his Kawasaki. Nice one.

4:05. Time for another cuppa tea at the Trade Stands area.

Distance walked so far: 3.25 miles.

4:30. Back at Brooklands for the Triumph Triple Challenge race. This is race winner Chrissy Rouse.

Distance walked so far: 3.5 miles.

5.05. A sit down at last (and another cuppa tea)! We're in the Luffield Grandstand and are absolutely shattered. Never mind, it's the very last meeting of the year so we are not going to miss the last two races of the day. Gotta make the most of it. 

This is the early stages of the Ducati 848 Challenge Race which was won by Dennis Hobbs (no 25). Our money was on Mike Edwards (121) so what do we know? That's right, nowt.

Distance walked so far: 3.75 miles.

5:50. The sun's still shining as the Sidecar Race enters it's final stages. Nice mid-pack battle developing here. Already long gone are the Reeves boys who duly clinched the British Championship.

Distance walked so far: still 3.75 miles thanks very much.

6.00. Time to walk back to the car park now and have some cobs and juice that we've brought with us in a cool-box-thingy. We are totally cream-crackered. Thankfully, Vicky is young and can drive home. We leave Silverstone at 6:40.

Total distance walked: 4.0 miles or so. Good exercise tho', eh? Keeps you young and all that.

Got all day tomorrow to rest (apart from having to do the weekly shop in Droitwich that is).

I reckon by Wednesday we should have recovered. Good job we enjoy it.

NB Sunday's weather is even better and it should be noted that although we have the coldest living room in the known universe (what with it's plethora of single-glazed windows, five (count 'em) external walls, and it facing east and what-not) we are able to sit in there in short sleeves with three windows open until gone 7 in the evening. It's a record!