Ertblog

In remembrance

robskinner — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 22:09:17 +0000

It's a sobering thought that tomorrow is the very first Armistice Day without a single survivor of the Great War alive in Britain.

The last link with that brutal conflict has been lost. The collective memory of millions of lost and shattered lives has passed into history.

Armistice Day and Remembrance Sunday were always dignified events, as a nation honoured the sacrifices of its sons and daughters in two world wars, and in the many smaller conflicts since 1945. Controversy and politics were forgotten. Almost every family in the land identified with events at the Cenotaph in London and at ceremonies throughout the land - they had all suffered loss or injury on foreign fields, or in air raids. In our case, my grandfathers and great uncles endured the hell of the Western Front. The photos above of my grandfather Frank and great uncle Bert were typical of so many taken in photographers' studios between 1914 and 1918. You can sense the pride and fear these young men experienced before being sent to the trenches in France. They both survived the trenches, but Bert tragically died in the flu epidemic of 1918.

How bitterly ironic that as we mourn the last, modest heroes of the Great War, the very idea of remembrance should become polemicised, as the media grubbily seek to mock and condemn people for not wearing a poppy. As my father - a veteran of the Second World War - points out, how foolish is the idea that a footballer from Senegal should be expected to wear a poppy on his shirt as he takes the field. And how monstrous that newspapers should seek to stamp on our freedom to choose whether to wear the symbol of sacrifices made in the fight for freedom.

But we shouldn't be surprised. The Sun newspaper reached a low even by its pitiful standard in its exploitation of a grieving mother of a British soldier killed in Afghanistan. I'm no fan of Gordon Brown, but I believe he showed his human side in sending a hand-written letter to Jamie Janes's mother. For the Sun - the paper that is still loathed in Liverpool for its contemptible behaviour over the Hillsborough tragedy - to use this as part of its campaign to oust Brown is beneath contempt. The decline of newspapers may be a very good thing if the press no longer has power without responsibility - in the words of inter-war prime minister Stanley Baldwin.

Remembering my hero, Ludovic Kennedy

robskinner — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 21:25:35 +0100

I was saddened today to hear that the broadcaster Ludovic Kennedy had died.

Kennedy was one of my heroes: a legendary broadcaster who deserved enormous respect for his tireless battle against miscarriages of justice.

His autobiography, On my way to the club, is an enthralling account of a fascinating life. It's full of marvellous stories, including the tale of how he met and married the famous dancer Moira Shearer. Shearer had recently shot to fame in the film The Red Shoes when he attended a fancy dress party which she happened to give out the prizes. He plucked up courage to ask her for a dance, amazing himself at the nerve of asking a famous dancer for a dance. She accepted, prompting even greater surprise by proving 'she couldn't dance for toffee', treading on his feet and almost tripping him up.

More seriously, Kennedy described the unfair way his father was dismissed from the Royal Navy after being court-martialled for failing to crush a peacetime rebellion by Navy reservists in Newport, South Wales. Ludovic was just five at the time, but no doubt this early experience of injustice prompted his lifelong passion to right miscarriages of justice. His most famous book, 10 Rillington Place, helped secure a posthumous pardon for Timothy Evans, who had been hanged for the murder of his wife and baby daughter, despite his protests of innocence. Kennedy's campaign was a major influence in the fight to abolish the death penalty.

Kennedy followed his father into the Royal Navy when war broke out. For the elder Kennedy, the coming of war represented a chance to put the Newport humiliation behind him. He returned to captain an old liner that had been turned into a makeshift warship to protect merchant ships. Captain Kennedy died a hero as his ship, HMS Rawalpindi was sunk in a brief battle with the German battleship Scharnhorst. In his autobiography, Kennedy describes hearing the news on the BBC news. The 20 year old Ludovic phoned the Admiralty for news of his father, only to be told, "The captain? No, I'm afraid he's gone". Ludovic went on to serve with distinction, taking part in the pursuit of the Bismarck and the Russian convoys.

Our disgraced politicians could learn a lot from Ludovic Kennedy's distinguished life and passion for justice.

Embracing oblivion: the stupidity of the Royal Mail strike

robskinner — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 21:22:38 +0100

The Royal Mail management and unions deserve each other. The latest threatened national strike is sure to kill any hope of reviving this much loved institution.

This is profoundly depressing. I’ve long protested against Conservative and Labour attempts to sell the Royal Mail, believing that privatisation would destroy everything the organisation stood for. I’ve cherished the personal service we get from our postman. (A highlight was his decision to deliver our wedding stationery at the start of his round, as he knew we left the house early.) But as the workforce and management combine to sabotage the service, I’ve decided that enough is enough. There’s absolutely no point in keeping the Royal Mail if it cannot provide a decent service.

The very idea of striking to save something is deeply flawed. The year-long miners’ strike of the 1980s helped Margaret Thatcher dismantle Britain’s mining industry. I’m deeply suspicious of the Royal Mail’s management – the postman blogger Roy Mayall’s insight into management actions sounds very plausible – but sabotaging the very thing you want to save is simply stupid.

All this reminds me of a left winger’s article in the Guardian after MG Rover collapsed in 2005. The impassioned article demanded the government save the carmaker, talking about the fate of the workers, without once mentioning the people who actually bought the cars. The postal union chiefs this week trotted out the usual empty regrets about causing inconvenience, while drooling over a renewal of 1970s style industrial warfare. The news that Amazon and Argos are switching from Royal Mail should put the fear of God into postal workers and managers. But they will ignore the threat, and simply continue their deluded march towards oblivion.

Don't bin the instruction manual just yet

robskinner — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 14:03:07 +0100

The BBC's Rory Cellan-Jones loves technology. It would be odd if he didn't: he's one of the Beeb's tech writers. So I wasn't surprised to see his post Read the manual? Never! on the BBC's technology blog, dot.life.

Rory's point is that products should be so simple and intuitive to use that a manual is unnecessary:

"The whole point of modern devices - from cars, to mobile phones, to wireless routers - is that they are designed for idiots like me who don't even know how to lift the bonnet, and wouldn't know how to proceed if they could. We want to take things out of the box, turn them on and see them leap into action without having to read anything."

If only! You've only got to look at the thousands of questions about tech products posted on forums and other websites to realise how unrealistic this is. I've spent much of the last week on Google finding out how to use my first Apple Mac computer - despite Apple's fame at making intuitive products and its excellent video tutorials. (Even the unexpectedly complicated task of moving emails from a PC to a Mac required far too many searches!) Modern consumer electronic products are incredibly complicated, with a plethora of menus and options. Consumers need some guidance, unlike long ago when the GPO trimphone was the last word in innovation.

The final proof that Rory is wrong is the boom in 'missing manuals' and 'dummies' guides. There wouldn't be a market for them if products were as intuitive as Rory (and I) would like.

PS: I wrote this post about the complexity of modern products and the need for manuals on Ertblog in October 2006...

Apple's MobileMe - don't waste £59!

robskinner — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 21:50:44 +0100

When I bought my first Mac a week ago, I decided to give Apple's MobileMe sync and storage service another go. I'd had a free trial when got my iPhone but never saw any reason to pay for it. Now, I thought, I might get something out of it.

A few days on, MobileMe has left me tearing my hair out. It seems incapable of syncing existing calendar entries from the iPhone. It has left with with two copies of all my contacts. Oddly, the iPhone synced really well with Microsoft Outlook - I'd expect Apple's own products to talk to each other! I'm sure there are 'workarounds' - that IT industry codeword for getting the customer to sort out its problems - but I don't see why I should waste time and money finding them.

Needless to say, I won't be signing up for MobileMe at £59 a year. I'll probably drop it in the trash bin long before the trial ends!

Bekoning Bard - Great Western steam on song in 2009

robskinner — Sun, 09 Aug 2009 22:43:58 +0100

Last weekend, an elderly steam locomotive thrilled thousands of people by the simple act of hauling a train from London to Stratford on Avon.

The Great Western Castle class engine Earl of Mount Edgcombe is seen above racing through Seer Green just minutes after stopping at Beaconsfield with the Bekoning Bard special. The train marked the 80th anniversary of the Bekonscot model village at Beaconsfield.

All praise to everyone involved, including Chiltern Railways.

You can see my video of the Bekoning Bard racing through Seer Green here.

How MPs can win back our respect (with help from Twitter!)

robskinner — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 22:15:52 +0100

Stuart Bruce raised an interesting question recently: do we respect our MPs more when we get to know them better?

Stuart was commenting on the latest Edelman trust barometer report. His point was that we've not lost trust in our local MP by anything like the same degree we've lost faith in MPs generally trust.

Stuart went on to say:

"A few years ago I did some research into people’s knowledge, trust and support of their local MP. What we found out is the more a person knew about their MP, the higher the levels of trust and support. Interestingly this was despite party affiliation. You could find people who were firm Labour voters who ‘admired’ their local Conservative MP because they knew what they did for them. For firm supporters this wouldn’t make a difference to how they voted, but for undecided and weak voters it could frequently make a difference."

I agree completely. My local MP is Cheryl Gillan. You may remember that she was the MP who claimed for dog food on her expenses. While I'm certainly not a natural Conservative supporter, I do regard Cheryl as a good constituency MP. This meant that the dog food incident did not affect my opinion of her. (The fact it was for a trifling amount also helped!)

I also believe that MPs who make a real effort to communicate with constituents will be better regarded. This is where blogging and Twitter might make a difference. I enjoy reading tweets and posts from Kerry McCarthy, Labour's MP for Bristol East. in the post above, she refutes the suggestion she should be working not tweeting. As she says:

"...basically what Twitter comes down to, is this: It's about communicating. It's about engaging with people. It's a conversation, a dialogue, and anyone can join in. And don't we politicians get criticised all the time for not doing that?"

Amen to that.

Twitter: spam is now following you...

robskinner — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 20:50:01 +0100

When I started using Twitter for real last February, I got a buzz whenever I got new followers. But most of my recent followers have been spammers. As a result, I've been blocking them as soon as I get the emails telling me they're following me.

It's no big deal, but I wonder if Twitter could do more to stop spam.

I do welcome genuine followers though!

The new age of the train? Britain flirts with high speed rail

robskinner — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 20:24:14 +0100

At last, Britain's main political parties agree on something: we need to build high speed rail lines. Andrew Adonis, Labour's transport secretary, has unveiled plans for new railway lines, just months after the Conservatives said they would scrap plans for a third runway at Heathrow in favour of high speed rail.

I'm warming to Adonis. He's talked more sense in his first two months than all New Labour's previous transport bosses put together. Cardiff will see its first electric trains thanks to his decision to electrify the Great Western main line to South Wales. (But before we get carried away, the new electric journey times will be slower than the best achieved by the current high speed diesels over 20 years ago.)

The channel tunnel rail link has shown the benefits of high speed rail. We've seen a big switch of London to Paris and Brussels air traffic to Eurostar. Let's hope the new political consensus means we see faster progress than the 20 year project to build the 67 mile line to the channel tunnel.

PS: the photo below shows an InterCity 125 high speed train on the Great Western line near Wootton Bassett in early 1978. These trains are still in front line service 31 years later - but rather slower than in British Railways days.

The day I bought an Apple Mac

robskinner — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 22:34:08 +0100

I've taken the plunge. Earlier today, I ordered my first Apple Mac.

I’ve wanted a Mac for years. I nearly got one when we bought our laptop two years ago. But I decided to stick to Windows, with the lure of nearly-new Vista, and a HP Pavilion dv9500. A seriously bad mistake. The HP is a nice machine, but the combination of Windows Vista, Office 2007 and Outlook 2007 is a truly horrible one: painfully slow, with a constant barrage of ‘program not responding’ messages. (Shameful, when you’d expect Microsoft’s latest programs to work together.) And, to cap it all, the frustration of weekly updates to try to stem the tide of security loopholes. (Imagine if you got a weekly visit from a car dealer telling you your car needed yet another update to stop it skidding off the road! Can you imagine ever buying another vehicle from him?)

The other prompt was my iPhone. I used to like my old Sony Ericsson phone, but living with the iPhone (see my six month review) has shown how much better life is when something is designed to be a pleasure to use. If Apple are this good at phones, I can't wait to experience my new Mac!

PS: I was intrigued to find out why they're called Apple Macintosh. Apparently, the McIntosh is a type of apple common in North America. One of Apple's founders loved the apple so much he adopted the name, but with a slightly different spelling for legal reasons.

Dark days for The Observer

robskinner — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 21:52:49 +0100

A life and death drama: the stuff of every journalist's dreams. Unless, that is, the story is about your own newspaper. Reporters on the Observer, the world's oldest Sunday paper, this week had the unpleasant experience of reading about their title's possible closure in their arch rival, the Sunday Times.

The chief executive of Guardian Media Group, Carolyn McCall, confirmed the possibility in a memo to staff yesterday, according to The Times.

The marriage of the Guardian and Observer in 1993 seemed like a union of soulmates: two of Britain's only left-leaning newspapers coming together to offer seven day reading for those of us who couldn't stomach the staunchly Conservative Daily Telegraph or the Murdoch-owned Times. But it never quite worked out like that. The Guardian's Saturday edition grew into a terrific weekend read, which meant many readers didn't want more of the same the next day. The Scott Trust, the proprietor of the two titles, has never had the same commitment to the Sunday paper. And while the Guardian has had just two editors since 1975, the Observer has had five since the Guardian group bought it 16 years ago - hardly a recipe for stability.

Reports suggest that the Observer's owners are considering turning the world's oldest Sunday paper into a weekly news magazine. I don't believe this for a minute. News magazines in Britain have an almost universal record of commercial failure: millionaire James Goldsmith failed spectacularly with Now! magazine 30 years ago - long before the internet upset the print apple-cart. Only a delusional optimist could imagine a commercially unsuccessful British newspaper could flourish as a news magazine.

I'd be very sorry to see the Observer disappear. By a strange coincidence, I first got to know the paper 30 years ago when the then owners of the Sunday Times closed the paper (and the Times) for a whole year in a futile attempt to break the strangehold of the print unions. (As a result, Margaret Thatcher's triumph in the 1979 general election went completely unrecorded by either title.) I've long admired the consumer-championing personal finance pages, edited for many years by the late Joanna Slaughter and more recently Jill Insley and Lisa Bachelor. (With an honourable mention for Margaret Dibben, who sorts out readers' problems with banks and the like.) And earlier this year the section's deputy editor, Sam Dunn asked me to write a personal viewpoint in the paper about the decline of the humble cheque. It caused quite a stir - and I concede that many readers challenged my view that the cheque was doomed!

If you want to help save the Observer, buy it this Sunday. You can also join the Twitter and Facebook campaigns to help save it - but there's no point signing up unless you're going to buy the paper every week!

PS: during the 1970s closure of Times Newspapers, the Observer ran a cartoon mocking the Times's then advertising slogan, Have you wished you were better informed? The cartoon showed a road flyover being built in two halves - with the two sections reaching each other at different heights, one labelled 'Times management', the other 'print unions'. Three decades later, it's the older title that appears in need of enlightenment.

Barbecue summer? Met Office's forecast proves a washout

robskinner — Fri, 31 Jul 2009 22:05:26 +0100

I've never seen the point of long term weather forecasts in Britain. Why predict the weather when the weather hasn't decided what it's going to do?

So I should have known better when I got excited about the Met Office's prediction that Britain would enjoy a 'barbecue summer' in 2009. True, the end of June was hot and dry. But July has been a sunshine-and-shower fest, with August likely to follow the same pattern.

The weather men have, predictably, been making their excuses. "We only ever said there was a 65% chance of a hot summer. Wimbledon enjoyed a heatwave. We might still see a good end to the summer."

That's not the point. They have no idea if one summer will be any better than the washout that preceded it. The most expensive computer may marginally improve forecasts based on probability - but it can't tell you if we're going to have a summer to rival August 1976.

And another thing. Why do British forecasters spend so much time telling us about what the weather was like earlier? Why do they use such verbose language ("during the course of the latter part of the afternoon")?

M'learned friends on the move: goodbye to the House of Lords

robskinner — Fri, 31 Jul 2009 21:19:26 +0100

For centuries, the House of Lords has been Britain's highest court. But no longer. The law lords have delivered their last judgment - an appropriately landmark one, about assisted suicide. In October, our top judges will form Britain's new Supreme Court, our new final domestic court of appeal.

Traditionalists have condemned the changes, but they mark the end one of Britain's most blatant infringements of the principle of the separation of powers - that judges should be separate from the executive and legislature. The Labour government has been under constant criticism during 2009, not least from me, but it deserves great credit for this historic change.

Just a load of bankers: Daily Mail's Alex Brummer blasts 'lying' banks

robskinner — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 15:29:45 +0100

I touched a raw nerve yesterday when I asked a panel of Britain's top business journalists whether the recession had set back the cause of businesses communicating with the media and the public.

In his reply, Daily Mail City editor Alex Brummer dripped venom on Britain's banks, describing how the head of a major retail bank angrily told him that his company wasn't in trouble. Just days later, it collapsed, leaving the veteran journalist doubting everything a bank chief or press officer said.

The event, organised by media and PR information firm Gorkana, was headlined, After the break - the communications challenges facing business for the rest of 2009. But as The Observer's business editor Ruth Sunderland pointed out, it's wrong to see the crisis as simply a communications challenge. We're seeing jobs being lost on a huge scale - and the British government has poured mind-boggling trillion pounds into the banking system. None of us knows if that huge gamble will work. But Alex Brummer starkly warned that if that safety net was pulled away, we'd have no banking system or economy left.

Brummer clashed with the BBC's chief economics correspondent Hugh Pym. Pym didn't share the view that the banks were solely responsible for the credit explosion. "We all benefited from cheap credit," said Hugh, responding to Alex's condemnation of the banks for creating an unsustainable consumer spending bubble. "We're all in this together, and it's too simple to blame the banks for everything that's gone wrong."

Despite his chilling words about the banks, Brummer acknowledged that bank chiefs such as HSBC chairman Stephen Green and Barclays chief executive John Varley have made a concerted effort to explain how their companies are navigating a course through the crisis. But he complained that Angela Knight, chief executive of the British Bankers Association, has all too often been a lone voice defending Britain's banks.

Alex and Hugh had differing views of the way banks had centralised lending decisions over the years. Alex recalled the days when local bank managers (like Dad's Army's Captain Mainwaring) had the authority to agree loans to local businesses. They knew which companies on their patch were in difficulties and which were doing well, helped banks and businesses alike. Now, decisions are taken miles away at regional or head offices. I pointed out that this was the world portrayed in the BBC's 1979 drama Telford's Change, in which a high flying bank executive turned his back on head office to become a branch manager again, to play a greater role in the community. Hugh remembered Peter Barkworth's series, but thought the idea of returning to the days of Captain Mainwaring-style banking was unthinkable.

The panelists poured scorn on Chancellor Alistair Darling's theatrical dressing down of banks chiefs over lending to British business. As Hugh Pym commented, it's absurd for the chancellor to tell banks who they should and should not lend to. The banks and government have conflicting objectives: to restore bank profitability, to return the part-nationalised banks to private ownership, to avoid a bad debt explosion - and to lend to business.

Finally, Ruth Sunderland condemned Britain's business and governing classes as 'pale, male and stale'. She questioned whether we'd be in this mess if the decision makers came from a more diverse background. It's hard to disagree: the overwhelming evidence is that the non executive directors of our failed banks shared the lemming like tendencies of disgraced executives such as Northern Rock's Adam Applegarth and RBS's Fred Goodwin. They were all caught up in a testosterone fuelled car wreck. Unfortunately, the rest of us are paying the colossal price of that male folly.

The Gorkana breakfast debate took place at Clifford Chance in Canary Wharf. It was chaired by Michael Wilson, business editor of Sky News.

Farewell to our Great War heroes: remembering Harry Patch and Henry Allingham

robskinner — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 21:12:35 +0100

Just one British First World War veteran remains after the death of 111 year old Harry Patch. Mr Patch was himself the last eyewitness to the horror of the trenches of the Western Front. His death came just a week after the passing of Henry Allingham, the last British survivor of the Royal Navy and RAF from the Great War.

It's hard for anyone born long after the two world wars to imagine the courage and fortitude shown by Harry Patch and his generation. In an era when the media gets hysterical about a mild version of influenza, the thought of 19,000 men dying in battle on a single day is almost beyond our imagination. (Let alone the flu epidemic that killed more people than the Great War, including my grandfather's twin brother.)

In the long hours waiting for our son Owen to be born last year, I read Mr Patch's moving account of his life, The Last Fighting Tommy, written with Richard van Emden. I was very conscious that Owen would be able to say in later life that he was born before the death of the last Great War veterans.

Hold the front page: Chalfont St Giles says goodbye to newsagent Gordon Patrick

robskinner — Sun, 19 Jul 2009 21:11:47 +0100

The Chiltern village of Chalfont St Giles was in shock today as the hugely popular Patrick family prepared to leave The Olde Post House, the newsagents business they’ve run for almost 30 years.

Crowds flocked to the shop to say goodbye, as the Patricks prepared to hand over the reins at 1pm when the shop closed for the day.

The family have been selling newspapers in St Giles for almost 40 years, starting at the newsagents at Three Households opposite the White Hart Inn. They moved down the hill when the Olde Post House came on the market in the 1980s. Gordon has been a parish councillor for many years, and also starred in a DVD devoted to the history of the village. The family have been famous for getting up before anyone else in the village, to take delivery of the day’s news.

Villagers recalled buying winning lottery tickets and 100^th birthday cards from the Patricks, not to mention brightly coloured gobstoppers.

Longstanding village resident Aline Sampson commented, “It’s amazing to think that the village found out about so many dramatic events by buying a paper from Gordon, Beryl, Rachel and Sharon. Happy events such as the Queen’s jubilees. Sad times, such as September 11^th and the passing of the Queen Mother. And frankly bizarre events, such as Jordan’s wedding and Eddie the Eagle’s Olympics. Come to think of it, Gordon’s got a lot to answer for!”

The day we went to the moon: memories of July 1969

robskinner — Sun, 19 Jul 2009 20:46:53 +0100

Forget swine flu: moon fever is the real pandemic of the moment. The media have been constantly reminding us of the imminent 40th anniversary of the moment Neil Armstrong stepped onto the surface of the moon.

I'm lucky enough to remember the excitement of July 1969. I was just five at the time, and about to finish my first year in school, at Bishop Perrin in Whitton, Middlesex. Our teacher, Mrs Carol, explained to us that the Apollo 11 space mission was trying to make history. We listened to radio reports as the mission unfolded, but not the actual landing, which happened in the early hours of a British Saturday morning. She made clear the risks Armstrong, Aldrin and Collins faced as they headed for the moon: the chance that the 'satellite' (presumably the orbiter) might crash to the surface of the moon, leaving all three men in mortal danger. Happily, as we all know, the mission was a triumphant success.

Looking back, Mrs Carol was right to stress the dangers. The near-disaster of Apollo 13 the following year showed that going to the moon was an extraordinary thing. This 953,000 mile mission relied on amazingly primitive technology: less computing power than my washing machine. But it all worked triumphantly. The moonshots turned unassuming astronauts like Neil Armstrong into household names around the globe - along with commentators such as James Burke, the presenter of the BBC's moon landing coverage.

Back in 1969, it was easy to believe that moon travel would soon be commonplace. Jonathan King's 1965 hit Everyone's Gone to the Moon captured the mood of the era. But soon after NASA's July 1969 triumph, the moon programme was slashed, and no one has stepped on our nearest neighbour for 37 years. Like Concorde, the moon landings did not represent the future, but a moment in time.

Armstrong's famous 'one small step' wasn't the only famous event that Bishop Perrin pupils followed that Sixties July. We also watched Prince Charles' investiture as Prince of Wales at Caernarfon Castle live on television. The school's involvement of children in current events was unexpected in many ways: Bishop Perrin appeared a very traditional establishment, and made no concession to the revolution in teaching methods that were sweeping the country after the famous Plowden report of 1967. We learned to read with the help of pre-war Janet and John books. The headteacher, Mr Davies, told the education authorities that he would adopt their methods when they could prove to him they were more effective than his tried and tested techniques. I discovered his success a couple of years later when we moved back to Cardiff and was shocked by how many of my new friends at Lakeside primary school still struggled to read at the age of eight. I owe a huge amount to my Sixties teachers, and not just memories of that giant leap for mankind.

My friend the deacon: Anthony's special day

robskinner — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 21:16:30 +0100

I've known my friend Anthony Beer for over 35 years. It's a friendship that flourishes even though we now live 150 miles apart, and meet only once a year. It also got off to an inauspicious start - the first time we met, in 1972, I ruined Anthony's toy snooker table!

We really become close friends in the years leading up to our A levels. We played football and put the world to rights during the hours we weren't revising during our A level month, June 1982. Later that summer, we went camping near Porthcawl and distinguished ourselves by thinking turps a suitable substitute for meths to fuel our camping stove! We also tramped across the coastline for a glimpse of the Gwely'r Misgl mussel beds - only to find them deep under water at high tide.

So I was thrilled to join the celebrations yesterday when Anthony was ordained as a deacon in the Church in Wales. I couldn't be there for the service in Llandaff Cathedral - just a stone's throw from my old house in the city within a city - but went to Anthony's celebration lunch in Canolfan Beulah in Rhiwbina. Anthony gave a lovely speech, describing how everyone present had left "fingerprints on my life".

Anthony will make a wonderful deacon. He's a deeply caring person, who has found his true vocation. I'm privileged to have known him all these years.

PS: by coincidence, I remember explaining to Anthony in the early 1980s that the Anglican body in Wales was called the Church in Wales, not the Church of Wales, because it had been disestablished in 1920!

The joy of Wessex: an unforgettable holiday in Thomas Hardy country

robskinner — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 22:37:02 +0100

Above: Thomas Hardy's cottage, Lower Bockhampton, Dorset

When Owen arrived last year, we quickly decided we'd spend our holidays in Britain in his early years. The thought of struggling with airports and aircraft with a baby was too much. Over the past fortnight, we discovered just how rewarding holidaying at home can be.

We stayed at Greenwood Grange holiday cottages in the Dorset hamlet of Lower Bockhampton, just outside Dorchester, following an inspired recommendation by Karen's brother. The name of the village rang a bell, and I remembered that the novelist and poet Thomas Hardy was born there. It was quite a thrill to discover that Hardy's birthplace cottage (above) was just up the lane from our cottage. (Hardy was born here in 1840 and wrote several of his novels in the modest house.)

This was no literary pilgrimage, but I was fascinated to compare today's Dorchester with Hardy's Casterbridge. (I grew to love Hardy's work after studying The Mayor of Casterbridge for my A levels.) Dorchester has changed far less than most British towns since Hardy's day. A traveller entering the town from Bockhampton is in the heart of the town almost immediately - no urban sprawl here. Ironically, the biggest expansion has come to the west, where Prince Charles's new village of Poundbury is growing rapidly. Poundbury is a curious mix: in parts, it's an appealing out of the box old-style village, but the frankly bizarre new Poundbury fire station is utterly out of place. We were also rather unsettled to see almost no evidence of human life in Poundbury: the streets were deserted. It was nice to discover the headquarters of Dorset Cereals, though!

The great discovery of the holiday was Weymouth. We had three wonderful days on the beach there. I knew a little about Weymouth's history, as one of Britain's original seaside resorts. But we found it a great place to spend a sunny day, with shops and cafes within a pebble's throw of the sandy beach. I took the photo above just before we took a day trip from Weymouth to Guernsey.

Finally, a glimpse of the wonderful swannery at Abbotsbury on the lagoon at Chesil Beach. It's extraordinary to think the swannery has been owned by the same family for 500 years. But we'll remember the kindness of the man who drove the tractor that pulled the trailer taking less mobile visitors from the car park to the Swannery. Knowing how much small boys love tractors, he let 11 month old Owen take the wheel of the tractor (below)!

Magical mystery trips

robskinner — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 23:01:27 +0100

I loved the story last week about the travel company charging holidaymakers £2,000 for a vacation at a mystery destination. Travellers would only find out where they were going when they arrived at the airport on Saturday.

I can't say I'd sign up for such a deal. But the story brought back memories of the old 'mystery trips' run by British Railways. When I was ten, we went on a mystery trip from Cardiff and had a very pleasant day in Cambridge. I remember making an Airfix kit on the way home. My parents recounted a marvellous story about neighbours in Caerphilly in the 1950s. They were on holiday on England's south coast and decided to go on a mystery trip, which took them back to ... Caerphilly. They popped home for a cuppa.