Author: davidscruise

I have been lent a book “Railway to Heaven” by Matthew Woodward, predominately, a rail explorer who has written about his travels in a much more detailed and fascinating way than I have managed to in my blogs. Just out of interest, I googled the list of countries of the world in alphabetical order and I count 52/3 that I have either set foot into, or travelled through by rail. I have not included Egypt, despite having sailed north along the Suez Canal on at least three occasions. And, I am not sure I can count Lichtenstein which I seem to remember passing through on a train from Paris to Naples back in the 80s. Nevertheless, over 50 countries leaves me content with the satisfaction of “not having wasted my life”.

I had promised myself to embark for the umpteenth time on an exercise regime, i.e. walking somewhere every day, whatever the weather. And, in the first week, I did very well, achieving my steps target on six out of seven days. Unfortunately, towards the end of that period, I allowed myself an excess of double cream with my strawberries, and it took around three days for my stomach to absolve me entirely of my gastronomic misdemeanors. Weight loss was thus slightly easier than planned! Enthusiasm to resume walking in the second week was dampened by a worsening right knee condition. So, for the first two days, I wore a bandage style knee support glove like garment. This actually seemed to work, and although not completely sorted, walking is far easier once again.

Retirement during lockdown continues to be a learning curve, including an element of self-discovery. However much I enjoy finding the most wonderful beauty spots almost on my doorstep, there is always that reluctance to leave the comfort of one’s own home. There’s always a ton of stuff to do, and I do manage a little bit most days. No end of “things” contrive to prevent me from venturing forth. It was with such reluctance that both Roger and I “made the effort” on Friday. And our endeavours were very well rewarded. I had expressed a wish not to climb hills on this afternoon’s trip. (I really didn’t want to incur the wrath of my right knee again!) We drove out to the site of Hartington Station, where just the signal box survives in its new guise as a refreshment outlet and information centre. Needless to say, it was closed! Having parked up and got our bearings, we proceeded south along the track bed of the former L.N.W.R. line from Buxton to Ashbourne and beyond. With (as far as I can ascertain) no more than four trains per day each way, even its heyday, I guess the line was primarily for the transport of agricultural and mineral produce. Nevertheless, I do have original elaborate publicity material promoting the Buxton to Ashbourne line as a rare opportunity to visit with far greater ease, the one-time remote almost “untouched” parts of the Derbyshire Dales.

Although I had actually cycled along here thirty five years ago, I had forgotten almost completely how much more dramatic the countryside became two miles south of Parsley Hay.

The idea was to walk to the hamlet of Heathcote, which Freda Willis assures me is pronounced “Hethkit”! We would walk along the old railway until we reached a footpath on the right, signposted accordingly. “Hethkit” was reached crossing numerous picturesque fields populated by curious cattle who, thankfully, left us in peace, despite having to walk close by to them. My agility (or lack thereof) and ability to tackle styles remains an embarrassment. But even in my younger days, there was never a time that I could negotiate styles with any kind of fluency.

Once back in the car, I asked Roger if he knew of an alternative route home. He didn’t disappoint. “Prepare for lots of gates” he instructed as we drove through the attractive and now upscale village of Hartington. I can’t remember the route’s identification number, but soon, we were on this remote narrow road, primarily a cycle route. Perhaps just thirteen miles from home, more remarkable “out-of-the-way” and remote scenery where cattle show no concern whatsoever at traffic which is trying to get through. The only thing is, if one was in any kind of hurry, this was surely not a sensible route to take home. We both had “all the time in the world”, except by now, I could do with a loo. Nature provided suitable cover!

In the evening, a former neighbour who was once of invaluable assistance in my D.J-ing days, was back in Buxton to cycle the High Peak Trail. Even though he now lives in Bournemouth, we remain in touch quite frequently, and when in town, we usually catch up over dinner! I introduced him to the Parks, and like me, was suitably impressed.

Yesterday, Saturday, was splendid. I did very little, but I thoroughly enjoyed donning a set of rather expensive headphones, purchased last year at Singapore Airport, plugging them into this device and listening to vintage Dire Straits and live Pink Floyd. The sun shone and made myself comfortable on the settee with the patio doors wide open….I was “away with the fairies…” The superb sound quality justified the extravagance of these high end headphones; it was as if I was actually back at the concert hall in 1981 and 1985. So, that was how I spent my time, yesterday. During that time, when my very being had been teleported to a 1981 Wembley Stadium, I was brought back to the 21st century by the almost inaudible sound of my landline. It was a gentleman from the West Country to confirm my order for a photograph of a locomotive I have had an almost lifelong interest in. I have requested photographs of other locomotives I am also interested in, and we reminisced for nearly an hour about what have become long since days of yore…1965 anyway. After the call, it was back to Dire Straits and Pink Floyd until around midnight.

Today, Sunday 9th August, I tuned once again into Radio 4’s Sunday Worship. This was a veritable nod to “Black Lives Matter”, all the participants being “non white”. There was a sincerity which shone with conviction; I was moved as if I had heard Vaughan Williams’ Old Hundredth for the first time, live! I was disillusioned with their accounts of the earlier church siding with slavery, and I recall being similarly disgusted during a theology course covering the history of the church. But this afternoon, I would join church colleagues for lunch at the Parks. And afterwards, they would join me for coffee in my sun trap of a back garden. It was all highly enjoyable and most convivial. After that, I would go over the road for more tea and a natter.

For some reason, as the sun set behind the surrounding hills tonight, I had a rare urge to go for a walk. This I thoroughly enjoyed as those distant surrounding hills dulled in the gathering twilight. I was not desirous of an evening meal. Those distant hills looked magnificent as they gradually silhouetted against the darkening sky. At this time of year, if the weather is agreeable, dusk around here takes on a rare ambiance.

I started writing this on Friday, continued a little yesterday and this morning, and finished tonight at 23.59 hrs. I am ready for a plate of porridge prior to retiring to bed. I am warned that this lovely weather will be short lived. Never mind, there’s a mountain of stuff to deal with at home.

Thanks for reading,

David.

Saturday 1st August through to Tuesday 4th.

Royal Oak, Hurdlow 4th August.

August didn’t start too well.  I woke up rather early on Saturday morning after not the best of nights.  For whatever reason, I was awake from around 4.30am, and a civilised hour was slow to materialise.  It was around 9am that I realised I wouldn’t be eating much that day; something the night before must have “disagreed”.  I did manage to walk in the afternoon, and again Sunday.  The glorious hot weather on Friday  was a “flash in the pan”, Saturday’s nod to a British summer bearing no resemblance to that idyllic day before.  I welcomed an early night on Saturday and “slept for England”.

The following day, I was awake in time for Sunday Worship on Radio 4. Although very different each week, I do appreciate the accessible bible reflections, usually based on two relevant and often familiar passages.  The “sermon” for want of a better word was delivered by the Chaplain to the Archbishop of Canterbury, charting her horrific and detailed experience of/with covid-19.  It was a reminder that whatever the relaxations in restrictions, the virus is still very much with us, and dangerous.  I’m taking a risk today treating myself to lunch, not because on Mondays to Wednesdays in August, Boris Johnson is “going halves up to a tenner”, but, because Domestic Bliss arrived two hours early for the fortnightly blitz on my house. I gave them instructions for today’s clean, and then made my way to the Royal Oak for a government subsidised lunch, and jolly good it was, too. My right knee continued to give grief. I had put on a support bandage which made walking down hill difficult.

Today, both the stomach and right knee are “improved”, although the knee bandage does restrict movement. With luck, tomorrow should be the last day I need to wear it.

Yesterday, I enjoyed lunch with my neighbour over the road. That, and a weekly hike up hill and down dale are regular occurrences these days. I remain nervous about crowded areas, and still try to self isolate. During lunch (by myself) at the Royal Oak, a former work colleague and his lady partner showed up and settled at the next table. I had a welcome update on how things were at work. Just like at work, I had left my wallet at home, and needed to retrieve it to pay the restaurant bill.

I have put my name on the “wait-list” for the first post covid-19 voyage of R.M.S Queen Mary 2.  All the single cabins have been booked already. We’ll see.

News of every large and devastating explosion in Beirut, believed to be in the harbour, has occupied much of tonight’s news. There are casualties and I am reminded of a huge explosion in Halifax Nova Scotia, also in the harbour, one morning in December 1917, when two vessels collided, one heavily laden with high explosives. On that occasion, around 9,000 were injured, but according to my limited knowledge, there were no fatalities. Today’s catastrophe has claimed around 70 lives so far.

Once again, midnight approaches. Time for slumber!

Thanks for reading. David. 23.35 hrs at home.

Already, it is three years to the day since I retired.  My 2018 World Voyage was “in the bag” and no way was I going to let something trivial like a quadruple heart bypass operation stand in the way of my first trip to Australia. Today, the weather emulates that so often depicted down under.

I have just been for my annual diabetic check, and like every previous year, all is satisfactory, and not even a sign of disapproval from the nurse, of my weight, although the internet tells me I should be 3 stone lighter.

Walking back from the surgery, I called at a pavement cafe for a celebratory cup of tea, and a glass of water, in preparation for the up-hill slog back to Harpur Hill. The cafe is nice and welcoming. Location location location – it’s right next to London Road Lights, (Fiveways) probably not much less quiet than the Catford Giratory – Google it if that analogy is somewhat obscure. I failed not to be led into temptation. I nice green bus manifested itself at an adjacent bus stop, and I availed myself of its welcome service, on what was probably the hottest day of the year. This was my first time on public transport since sometime last year. Despite being located at possibly the least desirable place in the Country, this charming eatery seems to do rather well. Covid restrictions rule out eating in the small area inside, but the incessant and deafening rumbling of passing lorries, cars, and the roar of motorbikes from a “standing start” at said traffic lights, precludes a peaceful lunch al- fresco. It was far too hot to walk home, but I did manage a further 30 minutes’ walking during the early evening, as a cool breeze sprung up.

Strawberries and cream on the patio were the order of such a lovely hot day, but not until around tea-time. As darkness fell, the sounds of numerous social gatherings filled the air with celebratory joy. But beneath the apparent conviviality, the dread of what might be to come, whether it be the worst recession ever, a dangerous spike in a possibly changing virus, or both. But at the moment, the shops are open and the once deserted towns and villages, are again full of people as if exploring an abandoned film set into which new life has returned. But nothing feels the same as before.

I tried to contact my sister early this afternoon. Her husband told me that she would call be back shortly. She was listening to the News….in German….”as you do”. I am assured that I, too, could take up a second language if I so wished. But, she did get back to me within minutes. Each day of hers is filled productively but even so, the pandemic has put paid to many things she expected to derive pleasure from for some years to come. It then occurred to me that there are things which I miss, too. Live concerts. Railtours – I don’t go on so many these days. If last year’s HST Farewell was the final railtour I would go on, it did make a fitting last journey which I would not have missed for the world. (Ref: earlier blog, around 21st Dec 2019). But I did ride a local bus today, so things are looking up!

Once again, it’s 1am; time to hit the hay

Thanks for reading, David. 01.09hrs Saturday 1st August…already!

Reading through what I had written during lunch at the Tradesman’s Entrance, I noticed a number of mistakes which I have now rectified. The ammended version can be accessed via Google, where alterations appear when made. http://www.davidscruise.wordpress.com

Day 124 Tuesday. Started writing at the Tradesman’s Entrance eatery on Buxton Market Place at 13.00hrs.

It didn’t take long for the enthusiasm for walking to wilt! I had enjoyed a decent sleep the night before, and I awoke feeling fairly energetic. But outside, the mixed weather was little different to Monday, it was still cool and menacing grey clouds threatened a drenching. Nevertheless, I did venture out, but not very far. I found things to do at home, as well as attend a blood test appointment at the spotlessly clean Cavendish Hospital. The day passed quickly, as always. Mega hot weather was forecast for a brief period over the weekend, and although the following night felt cold, Wednesday was proving to be a suitable day to venture out.

Day 125 (Wednesday)

Roger suggested visiting Axe Edge from where, on a clear day, Snowdonia can be picked out, as well as towns and cities in between. (I’m not sure one could identify Chester towards the horizon. Grit stone was in evidence; where we were walking was at one time (several million years ago) a massive grit stone area. I had last been up Axe Edge at the time of the Queen’s Silver Jubilee in 1977, when a celebratory bonfire was lit at each “trig-point” throughout the nation. I was 28 back in that day and walking across the terrain was not a problem. This week was different. The terrain felt unpredictably uneven, and I found walking difficult and arduous. That didn’t stop me enjoying the most wonderful views and also a sense of achievement. Also causing grief was my right knee, which could be painful. However, such exertions did not seem to exacerbate whatever the problem still is.

We continued downwards towards the Cat and Fiddle Road, again over what for me was difficult terrain, and walked for a short distance along the road before coming across another parallel footpath away from the incessant traffic. The final footpath to the road where we had left the car was much easier to walk along. It had been “made-up” possibly a couple or three centuries ago, and may well have been a route for transporting coal; coal tips provided evidence of a once thriving mining industry. Ref: Coal Mines of Buxton by John Leach.

Day 126 Today! Thursday 30th July.

This time three years ago, I was about to leave the employ of Arriva Trains North, the final company I would work for as train driver. I was 68, and had intended to stay until (subject to health and compitence) age 75. It was probably a good thing that continued sciatica deemed me permanently medically restricted and that, if I wanted to stay in employment, I couldn’t continue as train driver. Frequently documented cardiac conditions would have precluded any return to work any time soon. Retirement was the only sensible option. All this doesn’t seem three years ago!

The daily walking regime has to continue. This morning, I chose to walk into Buxton to acquire a hiking pole and a knee support bandage. I think this was the first time I had walked into town since the onset of covid-19, or even 2019. The girl in the “Track and Trail” shop was extremely helpful and passionate about what she thought would be suitable for me. I was very pleased. In Spring Gardens, now a pedestrianised area, I came across former work colleague James Stewart, as well as another church associate. Apparently, some of St. John’s congregation have defected (temporarily, I would imagine) to Saint Peter’s in Fairfield. I am reluctant to join a thronging congregation no matter what the covid-19 precautions are established there. The risk just isn’t worth it. Venturing into Buxton still leaves me uncomfortable.

On my way home, I called in at the Tradesman’s Entrance, a favourite cafe back in the recent day. Their chicken and avocado salad was superb and didn’t violate the diet regime I am trying to re-establish. Now for the long traipse home.

Thanks for reading, David 14.18, The Tradesman’s Entrance.

Saturday must have been unremarkable; I remember next to nothing about two days ago, apart from, if I remember correctly, staying in all day. This is not a good thing, but the inclination to maintain a daily walking routine has, so far, past me by. I did stroll to the Parks Inn on Sunday for an excellent roast lunch, in the company of a couple from Church. I had maintained the habit of tuning into Radio 4’s Sunday Worship at 8.10 that morning. This time, I found myself having to reconcile to traditional hymn melodies played by a Christian rock group. Not for one moment do I question the integrity of modern worship, and perhaps, if somehow it reaches out to a wide range of, and a large number of folk, spreading the Word this way can only be a good thing. Certainly, the more evangelical and karaoke churches are far fuller than my beloved Anglican places of worship, complete with bells, incense and angelic choirs with thunderous music. I do wonder if all this acts as a smokescreen to the scratchy world of church politics! That’s my rant for this weekend!

Today, my cousin and his wife called on their way home from a motoring holiday in the north east. Pete, like me, has retired and he and his wife, Jane are, as I am too, enjoying a well earned period of time doing exactly as they please. Sadly, they couldn’t stay for lunch as there were people they wanted to visit on their way home. Nevertheless, it was a very pleasant almost three hours. When Covid 19 is less of a threat, e.g. when an effective vaccine becomes widely available, it’s going to be much easier to remain in touch.

It was suggested (in no uncertain terms) that I ought to resume my walking routine, not two or three times a week, but every day. This afternoon, the persistent heavy rain had not eased up. But, for whatever reason, I felt I should go out anyway. It wasn’t cold, and getting wet wasn’t going to present a problem. I walked as if it was a fine day, and eventually, the sun did reveal itself along with patches of blue sky peeking through several menacing grey clouds. I walked for just over 70 minutes; the moment I arrived home, the heavens really did open as the rain crashed down like stair rods. I went out for a second walk this evening. The low sun was dazzling, and the wind was still blowing, seemingly from all directions. I just hope that I now, I can maintain this routine for the foreseeable future.

As ever, thanks for reading. David , 22.48 hrs, 27/7/20.

Written the following day, 121, Saturday 25th July, 11.21 hrs.

It feels like a long while since I slept in the same room for one hundred and twenty consecutive nights. And even, when I travelled on the QM2 World Voyage of 2018, and was away for 120 nights, four of those were spent in hotels in South Africa and Canberra, Australia on “overland tours”. This recent such spell, felt a jolly sight longer in time than during that glorious voyage a couple of years ago.

Yesterday therefore had to be more than just another day in lockdown. In the morning, the arrival of the window cleaner ensured that I didn’t linger in bed until midday. (Oh! How I love retirement!). Not being allowed to be in at the same time that the inside windows were being attended to, I ventured over the road to my neighbour’s where I was welcomed with coffee and biscuits. We would, later in the day, explore, further, the dramatic countryside which is close to the town of Tideswell.

My right knee has been becoming increasingly troublesome recently, although I can still manage stairs with little problem. Both on Tuesday when catching the faintest glimpse of Comet Neowise, and Yesterday, I am discovering things which once came naturally, I now struggle with at considerable embarrassment to myself. I am far less sure-footed on steep uneven surfaces than I remember, and getting up from ground level, unaided, I now find is almost impossible. Nevertheless, I am not deterred from exploring much further than I ever did during my working life. In fact, yesterday’s walk wasn’t very long, perhaps just over two miles. There were hills, but these were much more gentle than some I have tackled recently. After walking in the direction of the wooded hills illustrated, we came across a narrow but well maintained road which was part of our route. We stopped to admire a cow with calf in a field adjacent to the narrow road.

A young farmer approached, and explained that he had delivered the calf at around 11am. By now, the calf should have been able to stand, but seemed to be struggling in the first hours of its life. (I could empathize there!). I never knew, (why should I), that a newly born calf can be standing on its own feet within around twenty minutes. The farmer then assisted the calf into a standing position, the young animal letting out what I would imagine to be its first “moo”.

All-in-all, a very pleasant afternoon, a million miles from the normal routine of getting through the day, except, possibly, for the farmer, part way through his daily fifteen hour stint.

I completed the day, tidying up at home, and watching some T.V. My brief return to Coronation Street did not leave me compelled to find out “what would happen next”. I did, however, watch the first in a series of ‘Channel 5″ documentaries charting the opening in Dubai of the QE2 as an hotel, billed as the “most luxurious in the world”. I suspect the owners of the 7 star Burj Al Arab would beg to disagree! I did, in fact, stay at the QE2 in Dubai for three nights last year, and was very pleased with my room on Deck 2, the service, enthusiasm of all the personnel, and the way the ship had been re-purposed to an hotel. I hope their ambition to have the entire ship “up and running” comes to fruition in the not too distant future. Unfortunately, Dubai is land of astonishing sights and palatial hotels, which competes for attention. Personally, if I needed to be in Dubai, I would indeed stay at the QE2, albeit rather a long way from the “centre of things”. I have always stayed on board the Queen Mary in Long Beach when passing through southern California. I’m not sure I like much of the gimmicky stuff on board the Queen Mary, but there remains that rare opportunity to explore much of the once “Stateliest Ship in Being”. I hope I’ll be back there for one last time, rather like in 2019!

A little bit of looking back, then.

Many thanks for reading, David, 12.49hrs 25th July 2020.

There’s a reason that I don’t do “selfies” – I have never taken a good one yet! I did try on the eve of haircut day (118) merely to record the longest time I ever went without a trim (I think!) Anyway, at long last, after well over five months, I feel “human” again. I have a new hairdresser, who comes very highly recommended. She remembers me from her young days when I ran a mobile disco, which, back in the day, was a successful enterprise. Her son does a hi-tech version of what I endeavoured to achieve in the 1980s, and today, is enjoying wonderful success. I am humbled and impressed simultaneously. And I am impressed with hair-stylist, Clare, who came to my house and fluently transformed my overgrown mop into something that wouldn’t look out of place in a fashion magazine. (The face is a different matter!)

I have done very little walking recently. I cannot blame the weather. Despite St. Swithen’s Day being cold and wet, the first of the forty days which are predicted traditionally to be the same, have in fact, turned out to be, varied with lengthy dry periods. Today, Thursday, I plan to leave the house where, over the last several days, I have “found things to do”. But as I write, the sky becomes increasingly grey and menacing.

Yesterday, I went with my neighbour from over the road, to lunch at the recently refurbished Parks Inn, Harpur Hill. I never imagined that within walking distance, there would be an eatery up there with “the best”. I am not keen on pubs, and visited the Parks only a couple of times previously. Now, there is a decent sized dining area, a separate bar, and (although I didn’t see it), a pool table. There is plenty of seating al fresco and now that pubs and restaurants are allowed to operate once more, but with social distancing conditions, it becomes vibrant and busy, particularly at weekends. Numerous colourful planters further enhance the the beer garden. Oh! how I wish that I liked beer….it’s a taste I have not yet acquired and now, never likely to. However, being local, I do feel it is incumbent on me to add this excellent venue to my list of places to eat out. That steak was grilled to perfection! But today, I shall cook for myself. Fresh fish, potatoes and a variety of steamed vegetables, followed by strawberries. These are grown in Scotland and look particularly good!

Will write again soon. Thanks for reading, David 13.44hrs Thursday 23rd July.

At 11 o’clock on Monday night, two of us set off to try to see Comet Neowise. The darkest part of the sky, with the least amount of light pollution was around 15 minutes’ drive, towards Chelmorton. A very thin and intermittent layer of cloud obscured much of the heavens, but there was still plenty to observe. Neowise was only just visible, but I would have missed it had I been unaware of its existence.

We were joined by another stargazer who, unlike me, had a profound knowledge of everything in the night sky. We also observed a faint satellite crossing the sky, as well as the International Space Station, which at one point shone brightly. All in all, a fascinating hour or so. Whereas Neowise, tonight was only just discernible, Hale Bopp of perhaps 30 years ago was highly visible. I saw it at least once while driving a local passenger train through Woodsmoor in the direction of Stockport, above a row of houses on my right hand side. Then, as now, there was something quite spiritual about this.

Thanks for reading, David, 01.27hrs Tuesday 21st July.

Haircut THIS THURSDAY, 10 am

CAN’T WAIT!

Actually, I am beginning to like my unkempt grey hair that has not seen scissors since early February. The hairdresser on board Cunard’s Queen Victoria must have done a decent job, as my hair has “grown long gracefully”.

Sunday morning started earlier than I would have liked. Outside, it was bright and sunny, and I was kidded momentarily into thinking that it was around 9.30. In fact, it was something past 5am.  I could, I thought, do what people I know do, start their day there and then, and get a load done before the real start of the day.  I’m not sure if I got back to sleep for a while. I was never an “early bird” no matter how hard I tried especially when I couldn’t swap from early shifts at work. Fortunately at that time, there were colleagues who had an equal dislike of late shifts which I always enjoyed. The vintage digital clock-radio on my bedroom desk proclaimed that 07.00hrs had passed and there was less than an hour to go until Morning Worship at 8.10 on Radio 4. I liked the service the previous week. For some reason this Sunday, it didn’t hold my attention the same way. What did stand out was the children’s choir’s rendition of (I think) a 14th century hymn. These young people were very highly trained, and their embryonic voices were “to perfection”. After an exploration of the parable of the man who built his house on stone etc., the leader of the service gave an account of his life, initially in the Anglican Church, later defecting to the Roman Catholic Church. I know more two or three who have made this switch. For whatever reason, my mind went back to all those splendid elaborate churches in South America and Mexico which I had visited during my numerous travels, somewhat incongruous in or close to poor areas. If and when I ever have a better theological grasp, I may well do the same; or join the Baptists!

Buxton Festival organised a live concert outside the Opera House on Sunday afternoon. Really, I should have gone along. I think that it was well supported. However, I am still self isolating, which I doubt is doing me a lot of good right now. Like going up in aeroplanes (these days referred to as airplanes), I don’t like going into town at the moment. And the thought of trying and failing to “social distance” at a concert deterred me from leaving the house. By the way, I have long since got over my short-lived fear of flying, probably brought on by being “hooked” on “Air-crash Investigation!”

I went to bed late last night in the hope of not waking up at “silly o’clock”.

I was still awake early this morning, having dreamed of being at the opening night of the Buxton Festival in an absolutely packed Buxton Opera House. The audience was then asked to pick up their seats and sit two metres from each other. Everywhere I chose to sit was blocking somebody’s view, and in any case, the call of nature was becoming increasingly troublesome. I woke up!

The day was bright, but not very warm. Much to my annoyance, I needed to put on the heating, but only for around an hour. The housekeepers were due at 1.45pm so I decided to revisit the Royal Oak where a good lunch is guaranteed. They made a superb job of cleaning the place.

I had learned that Comet Neowise might be visible in the night sky. There have been spectacular photographs on the internet. The sky seems clear tonight so I shall travel out of town to where there is no light pollution in the hopes of seeing this heavenly occurrence.

Thanks for reading. David. 22.18hrs 20/7/20