Monday, 31 December 2018

What I did in the year I turned 65


So, Margaret and I both reached our 65th birthdays this year – me in July and Margaret on August 24.
It’s true that birthdays mean less as you get older, but 65 was the official pensionable age for men and so it has some significance.
I say ‘was’. Many men will have to wait until they are 66 or 67 to draw state pension, but I became an OAP on July 18 at 65. Margaret would have drawn her state pension from 60 had she been born a little earlier, but the government raised the retirement age for women, so she had to wait an extra four years and three months to get her money.
It’s very annoying and has penalised us to the tune of almost £30,000.
The older I get, the more I am convinced central government is largely incompetent. Pensions are unaffordable because the money we’ve been taxed to pay our future pensions hasn’t been invested, it’s been spent, and we depend upon current taxpayers’ pension contributions to pay pensioners.
That’s fine if the proportion of workers to pensioners remains high and the post-war baby boom ensured that it did. The problem now is that the so-called baby-boomers are retiring and the number of workers is shrinking because we did not have as many children as our parents. We’re also living longer. Sooner or later, pensions will be unaffordable, especially because Brexit will reduce the country’s wealth and the government seems determined to respond to popularist and racist anti-immigration sentiment by reducing the number of immigrants who were helping finance pensions.
Well, we’ve done our bit by having £30K taken from what we might have received.
In actual fact, we have been getting along quite well on company pensions and savings, but an extra £18,000 per annum is welcome. How anyone would manage on that alone is unbelievable.
So hitting 65 was a milestone with some economic benefits, but I don’t really feel much different than I did when I was 21.
We’ve had a busy year with house moves, garden and allotment makeovers, grandchildren, holidays, Probus, dogs and trips.
Holidays
Huge depth of snow in Les Eucherts
I had two skiing trips, a week’s winter sun in Tenerife and a week in Jersey with Margaret. We’ve not had a weekend away for a UK city break in a while and we should try to do that in 2019 … perhaps Canterbury.
My first ski holiday was just Sam and I and we got a cheap late deal in a catered chalet at Les Eucherts adjacent to La Rosiere. I’d skied at La Rosiere and into Italy at La Thuile a few years ago when we stayed at St Foy, but it had been a very snowy day and I couldn’t remember a great deal about the resort.
The chalet was a bit basic and the chalet host was a laid-back public school type, who just about got by. The other guests were a group of fire-fighters from Brighton, a chap with his two teenaged sons and two married couples. We all got along quite well.
I decided to get some refresher lessons to learn the resort runs and also to give Sam some time on his own. I don’t think the skiing is especially challenging for him and looking after me on my gentle blues would be a bit dull. He paired up pretty quickly with the firemen and there were endless Go-Pro videos to watch every night. Their thinking seemed to be: if we didn’t film it, it didn’t happen.
I got a nice ski instructor and there were just two pupils (me and a Belgian woman) so it was almost one-to-one. I was too good for that group, so I was moved into another group next day and that was all right too. I liked the skiing – there were some long blues and my technique had improved a little. Sam was crashing more than me.
The snow had been very heavy and there was a really thick covering. It also snowed on several days, so visibility was bad and some runs were closed. Frustratingly, for Sam, the route into Italy was also closed. However, at the end of the week, they opened it up and we skied across. The journey includes a couple of fairly steep reds and two really long drag lifts. A lot of the Italian runs were also closed, so it was a mixed bag and then we had to wait while they finished pisting the route back. I liked Les Eucherts/La Rosiere and came home uninjured. The only downside was a long transfer from Lyon airport by coach and an early start coming out and going back.
I don’t think I fell over all week, although Sam and I did walk to La Rosiere one night and I was taken out by two French kids on a speeding sled. It was like being two-footed tackled by Roy Keene, but I wasn’t hurt. In the end, I felt bad for the kids, who were crying and getting bollocked by their parents.
We had a second ski holiday in Arc 1950 with the whole family – me, Margaret, Sam, Lucy and Arthur. I’ve written about this earlier. It was a really nice break, lots of snow and good skiing most days (although I’m finding it increasingly tricky to ski in poor visibility. I just can’t distinguish the topography of the piste, so I find myself speeding up when I expect to be slowing down. It’s very disconcerting. I abandoned the last day when it was misty and snowing.
We’re going back to 1950 in April 2019 when Sam is keen to give Arthur a taste of skiing. I hope he has his mum and dad’s talent and not his grandfather’s. We’re taking a package deal and will be flying rather than driving. My old BMW made its last trip to France in 2018.
Ice-cream eating competition - Arthur and Margaret.
Our trip to Tenerife was a welcome touch of warmth and sun during a pretty chilly winter. We had a really cold spell in spring which was dubbed “The Beast from the East”. I didn’t see much of Tenerife outside of the airport, taxi or hotel. There was everything we needed within the hotel, so I took the opportunity to stay put. We had plenty of time with Arthur. Mealtimes were sometimes a relay of people eating, while others kept him amused. Fortunately, there was a soft play area near the dining area, which he loved, and I also had a regular walk with him in the morning to see the fish, turtles, bear cave and waterfall. I really enjoyed our morning walks.

A slightly pregnant Lucy came across to England during the summer and spent some time with her mum and with us. It was the first time Arthur had been to Thorney and he loved the garden and Holly. We took him to soft play at Crowland garden centre (Julia and Aureliano’s favourite) and also to Duxford. He’s fascinated by aeroplanes, but the most fun was had with one of those iced lollies in a cardboard tube. You know the ones – you squeeze the bottom and the lolly pops out of the top. Arthur squeezed the bottom and when the lolly popped up he thought it was hilarious. Of course, that made us laugh and Arthur laughed even more. Who would think there was so much fun in a Calipo? You can judge for yourself at: https://youtu.be/i2DQGsqUDxU. Here's a picture of Arthur and I in front of great-granddad's tank. My dad drove a universal carrier across Europe loaded with heavy machine guns and mortars. It's no Tiger and Arthur wasn't massively impressed.
Our house is busy … briefly
For around three months at the start of the year, we had Tom, Lucy, Julia and Aureliano living with us. They are now in Ecuador until September 2019, while Lucy completes fieldwork for her PhD. Their lease ran out just after Christmas, so it wasn’t possible to get a short lease to cover the gap. It was really nice to be able to spend so much time with them. Margaret enjoyed trips to town on the bus with Julia, my sister took her to Rhyme Time at the library and I was a regular at the Mums and Toddlers group at the Bedford Hall.
We thought Aureliano would walk before he left for Ecuador, but he was quite happy crawling, climbing and standing. It was fair enough that Nidia and Carlos would get the pleasure of seeing him take his first steps.
We’ve really missed them this year. I wanted to send them letters and stories, but the post to Ecuador is so unreliable and four or five letters went missing. We talk on Skype every few weeks, but it’s not great for toddlers and three-year-olds. I’m sure Aureliano has forgotten who we are.
Aureliano in the high paramo near Simiatug.
Allotment
My allotment has been quite productive. I grew outdoor tomatoes, early/maincrop potatoes, broad beans, onions, cannellini beans, cucumber, asparagus, rhubarb, courgettes, runner beans, raspberries, blackcurrants and chillies.
I also grew sunflowers, lilies and roses for cutting.
We bought a chest freezer this year and that has been a real boon for storing our produce. We had far too many courgettes (what was I thinking putting in eight plants), but there were some success stories. The tomatoes were great. I grew cherry tomatoes in the greenhouse at home (sweet aperitif) and outdoor ones at the allotment (Outdoor Girl). Margaret processed them by roasting and removing the skins and we’ve not had to buy any tinned tomatoes all year.
The chillies froze once sliced and we have bags and bags of raspberries. We froze lots of courgettes and haven’t eaten any yet, also lots of early potatoes. I think they could be used, but really, they’re best eaten fresh or given away.
In 2017, my maincrop potatoes were badly attacked by slugs and I was pleased that this year, there was very little slug damage. It was a very dry year, which reduced slug numbers, but also meant the potatoes looked like finishing early and small. In the end, we had a wet spell and they burst into life again. The harvest was pretty good. We gave some to Max and my sister and we’re still working our way through the bags in the shed.
In 2019, year, I’ll do more tomatoes, butternut squash and also try aubergine. I’ve added Sweet William for cutting.
Max’s back garden
As well as my own allotment and garden, I’ve managed to help Max and Sam with garden work. Max’s new house has a small back garden, which comprised a little patio, grass and various shrubs which had become rather large.
New planters and slate chippings in Max's garden
We removed a tree and a couple of shrubs, built four raised beds and put down slate chippings across the old grassed area. We had to do it during the wettest week of the year and the ground was absolutely saturated. Annoyingly, that was the last real rain for months and we had the driest, sunniest summer I can remember. Our work looked pretty good, especially after Max painted the raised beds and they were planted up.
The only problem was that he bought a whippet puppy (Ollie) https://youtu.be/mPDoU5iykt4 and then, later in the year, acquired Ollie’s brother Archie. The two whippets have caused some mayhem by jumping from bed to bed and we’ll have to carefully think through our planting plans for this year. What plants can you get that are whippet-proof?
Sam’s allotment
Sam got himself an allotment at Grouville in spring. It’s some way from his house, but a lovely spot overlooking Gorey castle. He’d done some work on it during the early summer, but with a lively two-year-old and new baby on the way, he was fearful that he wouldn’t have time to look after it.
One of the problems was that he couldn’t take Arthur up there without full-time supervision because there were so many dangerous things lying about. When we went across in August, he’d pretty much made up his mind to give it up, so I went to have a look at it with him and said I’d help him get it into shape. He wanted to create some terraces and raised beds and I said that we could put down sheeting over land that wasn’t being used to suppress the weeds. Some spray with weedkiller twice a year would keep it on order.
Sam's newly tiered, sheeted and barked allotment.
In autumn, I went over for a week and we worked on it together. We created two terraces, with steps down from each, I relayed the flags at the top to even up that area, we put in three water tanks with a rain-collection system off the shed, built three new raised beds, three compost bins, fenced the bottom and spread bark chippings across the whole second tier.
It looked really good and when we took Arthur along to see out handiwork, he immediately jumped off the highest point of the top level. Thankfully, the chippings are a soft landing. I hope they’ll get good use from the plot in 2019.
Cars and motorcycle
I’ve had a motorcycle since my mid-life crisis more than 20 years ago, but I seem short of time, don’t have any riding companions and I’ve felt more and more vulnerable on two wheels.
My BMW R1200ST - I hope it will clock up more miles
This year, I bit the bullet and sold my BMW R1200ST. A German doctor from London bought it and has great plans to go touring. I hope he enjoys it and manages to put more miles on it than I have.
2018 also saw the end of my BMW estate, which I’ve had since 2009. It had almost 250,000 miles on the clock and I sold it to Andy Bunyan for £500. I said I would drive Tom’s Ford Mondeo while he was away in Ecuador. It’s not worth a great deal, so he’d have lost money if he’d sold it and then bought another when he got back. Also, he had nowhere to store it.
It was suffering from a number of dents and scratches (he seems to have become very crashy this past year) so I spent the £500 from the BMW on getting the Mondeo tarted up.
After my last Mondeo and some terrible after-sales service from Ford, I vowed never to have another. I had to take Ford off my blacklist to help out my son – there’s a good dad (my blacklist is very precious to me).

Ford Mondeo - I didn't think I'd own another of these.
Out and about
We’ve been on a few trips with Probus. Early in the year, I visited St Andrew’s Church, Woodwalton (Margaret didn’t come for some reason, I can’t remember why). I used to see the church every day from the train on my way to London. It stands on a small hill and seems to be miles from anywhere. It used to fascinate me.
It is some distance from the village and our walking group started from Woodwalton, walked across fields to the church, where we were shown round by a local volunteer. It’s now managed by the Friends of Friendless Churches and is kept locked most of the time. It was a nice walk and great to visit this place which was so familiar to me for so long through a speeding train window. Margaret, my sister and I visited it again on New Year’s Day, but were not able to go inside this time.

We had an interesting visit to Southall Minster and the town workhouse. Now here’s a place, we would never have visited if not for an organised trip. Southall is in Nottinghamshire and I’d heard of it because there’s a racecourse there. It is a really historic place with a magnificent minster church. We had a guided tour, so found out lots of things that we wouldn’t have known just by wandering around. The stone carvings were amazing, so detailed and intricate, with detail that wouldn’t be seen unless you looked at them from certain angles.
The workhouse is perfectly preserved and owned by the National Trust. It was an interesting trip, but pretty depressing stuff. I’m sure it did its job and did help a lot of people – but it could have done so in a much more Christian way (perhaps Christian with a small C).
Intricate carvings in Southall Minster. Pigs eating acorns under oak leaves.


Our other notable trip was to the Crown Derby pottery factory in Derby and to Kedleston Hall, just outside Derby.
The pottery factory was small, but busy and we had good access to all the various processes. Lord knows how they’re doing in the midst of the Brexit mess this government has created. Margaret and I had enjoyed watching a BBC series called The Great Pottery Throwdown, where craft potters compete to win a prize, so it was interesting to see the techniques we’d learned about in that programme in a commercial setting.
They had moulds and a machine to stamp out plates of a consistent size, but the raw clay plate seemed huge. Once it’s dried and then fired, it shrinks by a huge amount (to normal plate size). That’s true of everything they make, so things with lids, like teapots or jars, have to be made oversize to the right proportions, so that they shrink in proportion and fit perfectly after firing.
A lot of decoration is added using transfers, which is skilled, but not as skilled as the hand-painting which is used only for the very special, commissioned pieces.
Lady Curzon in the Peacock dress
Kedleston Hall was owned by the Curzon family and the most interesting member was George Curzon, who was Viceroy of India from 1899 to 1905. He was a dyed in the wool imperialist but one good thing he did for India was to save the Taj Mahal which was falling into disrepair. It’s now one of India’s main tourist attractions, so thanks for that George.
He also did his fair share of shooting tigers and riding around on elephants. Like many British aristocrats, he bagged himself a rich American wife (Mary Letter). In India, they were something of a golden couple – the Posh and Becks of their day – and the crowning glory was Mary’s appearance in the Peacock Dress for the 1903 Delhi Durbar to celebrate the coronation of Edward VII.
The dress is now in the hall (and owned by the National Trust) and there’s also a painting of Mary wearing it. The dress is described thus by Wikipedia: “The gown was assembled from panels of chiffon that had been embroidered and embellished by Delhi and Agra craftsmen using the zardozi (gold wire weaving) method. It was then shipped to Paris, where the House of Worth styled the dress with a long train edged with white chiffon roses. The worked panels were overlapping peacock feathers that had a blue/green beetle wing at the center. Over time, the metal thread in the dress has tarnished but the beetle wings have not lost their luster.”
Votes for women? Never, said Lord Curzon.
Sadly, Mary died quite young (36) only a year after their return from India. George had a high-level political career, but seems not to have been a good politician, managing to upset as many people as he charmed. His final big campaign was to lead the campaign against women’s suffrage and there’s one of his campaign leaflets in the hall, which makes interesting reading. If he was alive today, he’d have been a rabid Brexiteer, a leading light in the European Research Group.
Books
One of my new year resolutions was to read more books. I managed just two, although I did get through quite a few Spanish text books. Those I read were:
Feral by Geoge Monbiot.
This is a book about our landscape and environment. It challenges many of the commonly accepted ways that land (and sea) is managed. For example, Monbiot doesn't believe that sheep grazing of the English and Welsh uplands produces a beautiful and sustainable landscape. He presents a very convincing case for reforestation of our uplands and for re-introducing a number of species which once lived there, but were driven to extinction by the activities of man. It's a challenging read and makes you question everything from the system of farm subsidies, why we allow vast tracts of Scotland to be owned by absentee landlords to why we allow unsustainable fishing. The book destroys any faith you might still have in the competency of politicians (especially Welsh ones) and I ended up shaking my fist at the TV during a BBC Countryfile story on sheep and hard-working hill farmers. I now view sheep as evil tree destroyers – a grey plague on our landscape.
To See Every Bird on Earth by Dan Koeppel
Do you know how many types of bird there are on earth? It's probably around 15,000, but keeps growing and shrinking as species are split into sub species and sub species are lumped together into single species. Whatever – it's a lot of birds. Dan Koeppel's book is about his father, his father's life and his relationship with him; it just happens that Koeppel (senior) is a keen birdwatcher. In fact, he's a particular kind of birdwatcher – a lister – someone who sets out to see as many different birds as they can. There are a very small number of people who have seen more than 7,000 birds and, when the book was written, the record stood at just over 8,000. It's a really interesting book and has prompted me to list all the different birds I have seen. It’s only around 100.
Theatre
I didn’t go to the cinema once during 2018. It’s hard to get Margaret out in the evenings and last time we went to the cinema, she fell asleep. We did see a number of things at the theatre, however:
Andrew Rieu in Maastrich at Stamford Arts Centre. This was a live link to his early evening performance and it is the second year running that my sister has bought me this for my birthday. In 2017, we went to the Lux at Wisbech and I enjoyed that more because you say on a huge settee and could drink wine during the performance. It was good though and we had pizza and wine before the show.
Carmen the Gypsy. We saw this at the Key. It should have been in the main hall, but so few tickets were sold that it was relegated to the studio. This meant we were right in the faces of the actors and it was an incredible performance, probably the most intense experience I’ve had in a theatre. The cast were brilliant and it was a real privilege to see such good acting at such close quarters.
Tangomotion was another Key Theatre excursion. It was an evening of dance with a band and two couples. The band leader gave some insights into the tango and explained the different types of dance. It was very enjoyable and I also learned what a bandoneon (previously seen in Spanish poetry) was. It’s a type of accordion and makes that particular tango wail.
Adam Kaye, This is Going to Hurt (back in the Key). I thought this would be a jolly comedy and it was funny, but the ending of the show was a real stunner. His book is in the top 10 paperback non-fiction and it deserves to be.
McGuinness and Whitham. We saw Foggy and Whitham at the Cresset a few years back and this was in a similar mode. The key was busier than I’ve seen it for anything other than burlesque. It was a good night and we won a copy of John McGuinness’ autobiography in the raffle. Maybe that will be one of my books to read in 2019.
Albion Christmas Band. This was our Christmas present to my sister. We saw them at Stamford Arts Centre a couple of years ago, but they were much better at The Key and we had a fantastic view from the second row. Really enjoyed it.
 Things I've done for the first time
I have this idea in my head that it’s important to keep having new experiences and trying new things to keep my brain sparking. It gets harder each year to find new experiences. Here’s some from 2018 …
Went to Tenerife. I’ve been to the Canary Islands before (to Fuerteventura) but this was my first time on Tenerife, the largest of the Canary Islands. The Canaries are volcanic, rising from the floor of the Atlantic and there are still active volcanoes, including the 12,000ft high Mt Teide on Tenerife.
We stayed at Adeje in a five-star hotel and barely left the hotel during the entire fortnight. We’d gone with Sam, Lucy and Arthur, so it was a chance for us to spend some family time together. We’re going back in 2019, so it must have been a hit!
Drove a hybrid car. Global warming is the biggest threat to humanity in the next 100 years. What are we doing to reduce emissions of CO2? Nothing much – emissions are increasing as the world population rises and China and India industrialise. We have signed up to various commitments and the UK will reduce carbon emissions. Cars like the Hyundai Ioniq (70mpg) help a little I guess. I hired the car to pick up Bert and Irene (near neighbours) from Kent where they were dropped after a holiday. Bert recently had to give up driving after some memory issues.
Went to Southwell Minster, Crown Derby, Kedleston Hall and Woodwalton Church (see above).
I became a Member of a MAT (Multi Academy Trust) so I find myself working with officials of the diocese of Peterborough and various vicars – it’s a MAT sponsored in part by the Peterborough diocese. I’m not sure if it will ever fly. In true church tradition, we just get something agreed and everyone falls out. We started the year with six schools and ended with two. If we can’t find at least one more, we’ll get the chop by the DfE.
I became secretary of Peterborough Probus 02 (a club for retired businessmen and professionals). An extra job was the last thing I needed, but it’s not too much work and when I unload some jobs, this will probably be one I keep.
Max with Ollie the whippet puppy.
Max got a whippet puppy (quite a handful) and then adopted its brother as well. One whippet is a handful, two are a double handful. It’s my first experience of the dog and they are sooooo fast. They’ll get across a field in a few strides, they seem to fly across the ground. They make Holly look rather old and slow (which she is, in comparison).
Here’s one thing I never expected to do – I played Warhammer. This is Max’s new hobby and, like all of his hobbies, his enthusiasm is overwhelming. He has hordes of alien armies sitting in his garage and I’ve teased him a little about it. Anyway, he brought his kit over one weekend, so I could have a go. I did enjoy it, mainly because it was a chance to spend some time with Max. He has got very good at painting tiny models.

Thursday, 16 August 2018

Cars I have owned - No 16: Ford Ka (1998)

I have not bought many new cars. Piling so much capital into a fast-depreciating asset has never seemed a particularly good use of my limited cash.
I know people who never buy used cars, but I like a car that’s been around the block a few times and has lost two-thirds of its original value.
I made an exception for the Ford Ka. It was the second brand new car I’d bought (after the VW Polo) and I bought it using a new finance package (now quite common) called PCP – personal contract purchase.
It was an idea dreamed up by motor manufacturers to allow people to buy new cars with minimal deposit and to be able to change the car every three years without having to stump up another lump sum.
They were so keen to persuade people to try this new-fangled thing that there were lots of low-interest deals or even interest-free deals. I think my interest awakened at the words “interest free” and I bought a Ford Ka – a little red one for Margaret to use. I may also have had one eye on Tom and Sam being able to drive it, or at least learn/practise in it.
PCP works by asking for a low deposit (typically only a couple of hundred quid), you then pay a monthly sum for three years and you then have three options:
·         Hand the car back.
·         Buy it for a pre-agreed sum.
  • Trade it in and take out a new PCP agreement on a new car.
I’d driven a few Ka models and I quite liked the car. It was small, easy to drive and it looked quite stylish. We got a bright red one in 1998 (S-reg). Ours had the dark grey plastic bumpers.
The Ka had good headroom and plenty of room for the two in the front. The rear seats were tight (just two of them) but we did go four-up quite often. The car handled OK, a bit nose heavy, but there was power steering (quite rare then on a supermini), which was great.
What wasn’t great was the engine. It used a 1.3-litre pushrod engine, which (although much updated and revised) could be traced back to the Ford Anglia. This has decent mid-range torque, but wouldn’t rev, so coupled with high gearing to improve refinement and economy, the result was very sluggish performance.

It would trundle along happily at an illegal 80mph on the motorway, but hills took their toll and overtaking needed good judgment.
I didn’t trade it in for a new one after three years, I bought it for the pre-agreed sum. I’d used it to go to Bristol and few times and the mileage was way over the allowance. Tom and Sam did drive the car and Sam used it quite a lot, including to get to school. It had a couple of scrapes, not down to the kids, and we had to have a new door skin fitted after a supermarket car park incident. Annoyingly, while it was parked outside King’s School, someone scratched the side quite badly with a key, a deliberate act of damage (possibly they were annoyed by schoolkids parking in their street all day).
It didn’t give much trouble. The exhaust failed really quickly (around three years) and, in later life, the sump leaked a bit of oil (it had gone porous according to Andy Bunyan), but we still managed to sell it for a thousand pounds to a girl who had just passed her test.
By then, the Ka had lost some of its style, it was looking a bit everyday. Tom and Sam will have happy memories of the Ka.


Also see:

Ford Popular - click
Bedford HA Van - click
Morris Mini - click
Vauxhall Viva HC - click
Citroen GS Club - click
Morris Marina 1.3GL - click
Talbot Horizon 1.1 LS - click
Vauxhall Cavalier 1.3L - click
Datsun Stanza 1.6GL - click
Vauxhall Cavalier 1.6L - click

Peugeot 405 STi - click
Ford Escort Mk IV 1.6D L - click
VW Polo Mk II 1.0L - click

Vauxhall Cavalier Mk III 2.0GL - click
Nissan Serena 2.0 SGL - click


Sunday, 12 August 2018

Cars I have owned - No 15: Nissan Serena 2.0 SGL 1994

The Nissan Serena - about to transport French-exchange visitor, Marc.

The Nissan Serena was one of those vehicles adapted from another model to try to take advantage of a new trend or fashion.
Renault designed the Espace from the ground up and it was a fantastic car. It defined the people carrier market and sold like hot cakes. Nissan wanted a slice of the action, so it took its panel van, inserted windows and seats and – hey presto – you have a people carrier.
In the US, they called people carriers ‘minivans’. In the UK, a Minivan is the car-derived van version of the Mini, so it’s a little confusing. However, the Serena was a van and little had been done to improve the ride, handling or performance. It was no Espace, but it was in my price range; in fact, I could afford the top-spec model.
There was a normally aspirated diesel, which was incredibly slow, and a 2-litre petrol, which was the version I had. It was very thirsty (below 30mpg) even on a long run and it still wasn’t what you’d call fast. Thankfully, I was able to put a fair bit of petrol into the car on the company’s account, so I wasn’t unduly concerned about mileage. Auto Express named the Serena as the slowest passenger car in the benchmark 0-60 mph (now 62 mph) test, with the 2.3 diesel version taking 27.8 seconds to reach that speed.
There were some odd quirks about the vehicle. Soon after we got it, Margaret called me one day to say the battery was flat. I told her she’d left the lights on, she swore she hadn’t. I didn’t believe her, but then it happened to me and I definitely hadn’t left the lights on. There was clearly an electrical leak that was flattening the battery over around three days. I checked all the interior lights, none were staying on and I also checked for odd things like bonnet lights – nothing!
The car went to the Nissan dealer in Peterborough and, almost in mockery, they gave me a Nissan Micra as a replacement car. From an eight-seater people carrier to a four (five at a push) seater supermini – now that’s what you call customer service!
They said they’d check over the car, it was fine. It was probably a faulty battery, so they changed the battery.
Of course, it happened again and Nissan’s (then) high reputation for reliability was looking a bit suspect. The car went back and I suspect this was a rare, but not unique, fault on this model. They kept the car for a couple of weeks and flew in a technician from Japan to look at it. When it came back, they couldn’t tell me what the fault had been, but they promised it was sorted (and so it was).
The Serena was tall and thin and, dynamically, it was not a good car to drive. It felt heavy, accelerated slowly and overtaking had to be carefully judged. It wasn’t the sort of car you’d throw into a bend. It was front engine/rear-wheel drive and the car had a live rear axle, mounted on leaf springs – crude by passenger-car standards in the mid-90s.
Oddly, the engine sat quite high between the driver and front passenger. The almost mid-engine design would have helped handling, but the engine was set too high for good weight distribution. To check the oil level, you had to lift a cover inside the car and hinge it forward to expose the engine. It was a faff and, despite a heat shield and noise insulation, you were always aware there was a big engine sitting alongside you. There was a short, stubby bonnet and that lifted to allow access to washer fluid and coolant levels.
It did have a radio/cassette player, electric windows, power steering and two electric sun-roofs. No air-conditioning back then. I never liked sun-roofs, they are noisy when open, reduce headroom and often leak. However, pulling back the cover on the Nissan’s main sun-roof gave you a tinted glass roof that made the car seem really light and open. If you did open the roof and drive at any speed, all kinds of severe vortexes and whirlwinds would be created inside the car and you couldn’t hear yourself think!
We didn’t take the Serena abroad, but we did clock up quite a few miles around the UK. It certainly went to Somerset a couple of times and also to the Lake District. I remember doing the Hardknott and Wrynose passes in the Lakes. These two lead into each other and have some really steep roads, which were quite wet on the day we did them. The rear-wheel drive Serena lost a bit of traction on some sections. It was possible to lock the differential by pressing a button, but this wasn’t needed.
It was hard to like the Serena, but there was no denying its practicality. It was an eight seater 2+3+3 and, unlike other people carriers I’ve owned, it was possible to fold all the rear seats out of the way (there was no need to start unplugging them like the Galaxy, Sharan, et al. The middle seats tipped forwards and upwards (like an estate car) and the rear seats (a bench seat) split in the middle and folded into the side.
We didn’t have to do any removals, but the eight seats came in handy a few times, and Tom and I managed to get a motorcycle in the back. We took the Derbi Senda to a moped endurance race at Cadwell Park and it just about squeezed in (along with our other gear).
We had the Serena for four years. I changed it in 1999 for another people carrier – a VW Sharan.


Also see:

Ford Popular - click
Bedford HA Van - click
Morris Mini - click

Vauxhall Viva HC - click
Citroen GS Club - click
Morris Marina 1.3GL - click
Talbot Horizon 1.1 LS - click
Vauxhall Cavalier 1.3L - click
Datsun Stanza 1.6GL - click
Vauxhall Cavalier 1.6L - click

Peugeot 405 STi - click
Ford Escort Mk IV 1.6D L - click
VW Polo Mk II 1.0L - click

Vauxhall Cavalier Mk III 2.0GL - click

Sunday, 5 August 2018

Brothers meet for the first time in 80 years

Tony Burrows (left) and Keith Sanders - brothers reunited after 80 years.

Here’s a picture of Margaret’s two half-brothers – Tony Burrows and Keith Sanders – who met for the first time this month.
The brothers were from Margaret’s dad’s first marriage. He married Amy Sanders in 1934 and they had two children – Tony in 1935 and Keith in 1937. Keith was born in July and Amy died in August.
Tony stayed with his father, although Norman joined the Army at the outbreak of the Second World War, and he was brought up by Edith Burrows (nee Mason), his grandmother.
John Joseph Keith Burrows went to live with his mother’s family and his name was changed to Keith Sanders.
It’s not unusual for children to be divided between the family in the event of such tragedy. What is unusual was that there was no contact between the two brothers or, to the best of our knowledge, between father and Keith.
Tony knew he had a brother and Keith knew he had a brother, but that was it. None of the children of Norman’s second marriage knew anything about Keith (their half-brother). Tony, brought up by his grandmother, was a visitor two or three times a year.
The first Margaret knew of another half-brother was when it was uncovered during research on our family tree and her cousin Gillian was able to fill in a few gaps and provide a picture of Amy and now this picture of Tony and Keith.
The 1939 Census shows the Burrows family living at 15 Morris Drive in Weaverham. There was William Burrows, wife Edith, sons Norman and Walter and grandson William Thomas Anthony Burrows (aged three-and-a-half). William and Norman are working as Roadmen and Walter is a Labourer.
John Joseph Keith Burrows, by now called Keith Sanders and two years old, is living in Chapel Lane, Action Bridge (maybe two miles away) with Gladys Esther Sanders (aged 25). We don’t know if she’s his mother’s sister or wife of his mother’s brother. We assume she was a relative of some kind.
Norman Burrows - aged about 60
It seems extraordinary to me that I might live a couple of miles away from one of my sons and never see him. Of course, I don’t know any circumstances or background. One assumes there was some bad blood, but it might simply be they thought it best to bring the child up as a Sanders and sever all connections. We’ll never know. There was also the small matter of the Second World War ...
Anyway, the story has had a happy, if poignant, ending. Aged 82 and 81, the brothers are reunited for a photograph and may get chance to catch up some more in the future.
There’s an amazing similarity between the two of them and also with their father Norman.

Tuesday, 1 May 2018

Three months - three holidays



Mt Tiede, Tenerife's volcano, from the
EasyJet window.
This is a first for me. I've never had a week's holiday in the sun during the middle of winter, normally I'm heading somewhere colder for skiing.
The holiday was Sam's idea, he arranged it and asked if we wanted to come along. Tenerife was chosen because you can fly directly from Jersey. We had an early flight from Gatwick (bag drop 6am), so we stayed overnight at the airport to avoid a miserable 3am start.
Tenerife is a popular winter destination for we Brits. I didn’t realise how popular until I mentioned I was going on holiday there. So many people seem to own property in the Canaries, or have mates who let them use properties or go there every year for a break from the gloomy British winter.
I was particularly looking forward to going to a Spanish-speaking destination, so I could practise my language skills and (perhaps) even show off. As it turned out I didn’t get much further than hello, good morning, please and thank you; although I did ask for a spoon once. The only place where I could have let rip, the waitress had gone to university in Cardiff and relished the chance to practise her English!
We stayed at the Roca Nivaria, part of the Adrian Hoteles group, at Costa Adeje. We didn’t book all-inclusive as we expected to get out and about a little (perhaps to the top of Mount Teide, the volcano that dominates the island). As it happened, we found everything we needed inside the hotel, so we emerged only to buy water, snacks for Arthur, wine and beach stuff. We  also found a small play area, which Arthur liked, Margaret and I went to a restaurant one evening and we had a short walk around the coast promenade. That was it.
The hotel has restaurants, pools, sports and games areas, shops, nursery, soft play, gardens, walks, putting green and a lift down to the beach. It was a bit like an upmarket Butlin’s (very upmarket, but the principle was the same).
Arthur tucking into breakfast
Food was great, staff were nice, decor was lovely, and the weather was pleasant (up in the low 20s). It was good to be able to spend some time with Arthur. He recognised Margaret straight away at the airport, which she was rightly pleased about. I was also to form more of a bond with him, which was great. Because of distance, Arthur knows us a lot less than Julia or Aureliano and so it’s good to have some quality time with him.
We’d taken some books along and Arthur had a new book each day. He loved Bear Hunt. Our routine soon settled into a pattern:
1.     Breakfast would be taken in turn so that Sam and Lucy got Arthur some food, then we went up for ours (help-yourself buffet). Arthur would soon be full or fed up and so I’d take him for a walk around the gardens and pools for 20 minutes or so while the others ate. There was a fish pond with some large fish and terrapins. That was out first port of call, then there was a wall to balance on, a cave bar/restaurant (that may have contained a bear) and a waterfall that you could walk behind. Back at the restaurant, Sam, Lucy and Margaret would be on the cava and their third coffee; so I’d tag Margaret to take Arthur to the soft-play area and I’d grab some cake, cava and coffee myself. Soft play was a life-saver!
2.    We’d then do the pool or football. Arthur doesn’t really like swimming pools, he isn’t confident, or particularly happy, in the water, but he does love football, throwing things and chasing around. There was a big five-a-side pitch, basketball court, volleyball court and giant chess and draughts games. We bought a ball and Arthur was in his element.
3.    He would normally have a sleep late morning or early afternoon, generally with Sam or Lucy, then we’d have time for pool or more play afterwards. We tended to snack for lunch and then have dinner quite early. Dinner would be similar to breakfast, with us working in relays to amuse Arthur and keep him provisioned. He does have a good arm for throwing and will hurl food, cutlery or crockery once he’s done with it. You have to watch him closely and soft play was again a facility that was very much appreciated.
I tried to teach Arthur buenos días, hola and gracias, but only ‘hola’ stuck and he shouted it loudly to staff and fellow guests, which was very cute.
Playing in the sand at the Volleyball court.
Tenerife was the second of three holidays I was taking in the first three months of the year – quite an impressive record. With grandparent duties for Aureliano and Julia, allotment and Thorney Post, it was a very busy start to the year.
My first holiday was skiing with Sam in January. We got a very cheap late deal at La Rosiere and ended up in a catered chalet with four firemen, a dad and his two sons, a couple from Worcester and a couple from Essex. It wasn’t a bad mix and our chalet host (a public schoolboy called Josh) was aimiable, if a little disorganised.
We went with Ski Beat for the second year running and it’s a flight to Lyon, then a pretty long coach transfer to the resort. Sam and I both stayed over in Gatwick the night before our outbound flight and so the early start was quite tolerable.
Very snowy - La Rosiere
There had been huge snowfalls in the Alps and we had more snow during our stay. Some resorts had closed due to avalanche threat and at La Rosiere, the link to Italy wasn’t open until the last day. I really enjoyed the skiing. I managed to persuade our resort rep to sell me an over-65 ski pass, which saved some cash, and then signed up for four days with the ski school. I had nice instructors and small groups and I was twice promoted to higher levels, which was good for my confidence.
One of the ski instructors lived in the village and worked as a golf pro and carpenter during the summer. I asked him whether he was busy and had classes in the afternoon and he said he was going to spend the rest of the day clearing snow from his chalet roof. All the roofs had a good three or four feet of snow on the top and I asked if they were designed to cope with that weight. He said this year was particularly thick and said he knew he had to move some snow off when they couldn’t open the windows upstairs. The weight of the snow bends the window lintels downwards and you can’t open them. He also showed us the golf clubhouse up on the slopes at La Rosiere. There’s a nine-hole golf course in the summer, but now the top of the roof of the clubhouse was just visible. That’s quite a thickness of snow.
On the last day, Sam and I skied across into Italy, which involves a couple of reds and two long drag lifts and I managed to survive all that. Quite a contrast to the year before at St Martin de Belleville, when I’d crashed hard a couple of times and was pretty sore by the end of the week. The end of my left thumb is still numb – nerve damage from one of the falls.
First job: buy a sledge!
My third holiday, a second ski holiday, was in March and this time we went to Arc 1950 with Sam, Lucy and Arthur. We had decided to drive, even though I was a little worried about whether the BMW (220,000 miles) would make it there and back. Sam was flying and we said we’d pick them up on Sunday morning from Chambery. It was a bit of a squeeze, but we managed it. Margaret was pleased to see Arthur and even sat in the back without complaining.
Sam and I had gone to Arc 1950 last year, and we thought it would be good for a family holiday. The car park (a massive underground construction) took some working out, but the BMW had performed effortlessly and we managed to unpack and get in our accommodation by late afternoon. I’d got a dozen bottles of wine stashed over the wheel well, plus gin and sherry, so we were well provisioned for booze. We’d also bought essentials from home and there was a Huit a 8 in the resort.
Like La Rosiere, there was plenty of snow and it snowed several times during the week. I was back on my old red skis and boots. My boots were hurting (surely my feet haven’t grown) and the skis were dragging. I got the skis waxed and hired some boots for the rest of the week.
Arthur got a sledge on the first day and enjoyed being dragged around the village in the snow. It must be a massive culture shock for a toddler to swap his regular St Helier nursery for mountains, cold and deep snow.
I am very familiar with Les Arcs resorts and it was good to be back on those slopes. Sam and Lucy tried to trick me by taking me back onto Renard. They thought if they brought me in a different way and didn’t say anything that I wouldn’t know where I was. There’s no forgetting Renard for me, I knew exactly where I was, but went along with the ruse. It was OK actually. It is a tough blue, but I’ve done worse.
They were waiting at the bottom cackling like a couple of old crones.
Skiing was good most days, but there was quite a lot of snow during the week and on a couple of days visibility was pretty poor. I struggle a bit when I can’t see the contour of the slope. I find myself speeding up when I expect to slow down. Sam says I need to relax and feel the slope. I think I might feel the slope with my bum.
On the final day, we all went out in the morning, but the visibility was so poor I packed it in on the first run and turned for home.
Apart from revisiting Renard, I did the Mont Blanc run, which I’ve not done for a couple of years. That’s probably a tougher blue than Renard, but the toughest blue of all is the last run in to Arc 1600. I always managed to fall on that and although I managed it OK several times, it did catch me out once.