I needed to make a trip to Northallerton to get my eyes checked at Friarage Hospital. A small but cosy hospital we really like. However no trip to Northallerton can be complete without a visit to Lewis and Cooper. An unusual shop with just a hint of Fortnum and Mason. Full of goodies that are difficult to find elsewhere. Neither Ripon nor Harrogate have anything similar. Probably the nearest would be Harvey Nicks in Leeds but the selection wouldn't be anywhere near as big or as good. For me this is heaven. Anyway we were in the shop on Wednesday and we both learnt something. Did you know that Sunday 2nd April is Carlin Pea Day? On the shelf next to this notice were unappetising looking bags of what looked like dried brown peas. Neither of us had ever heard of them and there appears to be quite a history. Something new to try.
It would be easy to feel very virtuous about making a two hour journey to see a sick relative in hospital but when you add in a lunch stop at Ricci's then, if you examine your conscience, you might have to admit that there is more than enough self interest to make your halo slip a bit.
It's useful from time to time to reevaluate how fortunate you are. We lunched at Fodder, an upmarket cafe in Harrogate, with family yesterday and Jan's daughter from Brighton exclaimed as she looked at the menu, 'gosh this is cheap.' This made me reappraise our fortune. It was sunny outside and relatively warm. The food portions were large and healthy (too big some might say) and not that expensive. The 13 years old with us couldn't finish her burger. Becs was comparing the prices to 'London by the sea' where prices would be roughly double. The meal for six with drinks came to £90. The quality of foods in the attached shop is outstanding and the displays very, very inviting. It's difficult to walk outside without buying something. Everything about the place makes you feel good. Heaven.
Castleford has never been high on my list of places to visit but we went today. To be precise we took the kids (13 & 10) to Snozone to give them their first taste of skiing. They really enjoyed it and after an hour of instruction they were both skiing down a baby slope with some confidence. Excellent. In my youth Cas (as we called it then) was a place for hard men who worked down the pit. I was at school in Leeds and we looked on in fear if anyone said they hailed from Cas. How things have changed. They now have an indoor ski centre with real snow and with a restaurant advertising Chicken and Chorizo with linguine or a wild mushroom farfale. When I were a lad a bloke from Cas wouldn't even pluck a chicken before eating it and as for Chorizo he'd wonder what the hell you were talking about?
After a morning walk at Hackfall we're in the Theakston Brewery pub in Masham with Jan's daughter Becs and her children. Jan, who doesn't drink beer, was choosing what to have. She decides on a lager and lime and tells the barman. 'No you bloody won't,' he said, 'this is a brewery.' We couldn't stop laughing. That's telling 'em.
If it comes to a choice between the films La La Land and Denial, Denial wins hands down. I so enjoyed the latter which was a harrowing film compared to the lightweight and almost inconsequential La La. I did not follow the events when they happened first time around so the film was 'new' in that sense. The only other time that I had seen the cinema audience stunned into inaction at the end of the film was when I went to see Schindler's List. Go see it.
Got it. The passport office has returned both my passport and birth certificate. My name has been spelt correctly in the passport and I now officially exist again. Phew.
The passport fiasco wasn't in fact the whole story. In order to prove that they'd spelt my name incorrectly I had to produce my birth certificate. I couldn't find it. So I sent off for a new one. You know what, they sent me a birth certificate with exactly the same spelling mistake. Yikes, this could get complicated. If challenged, how was I going to prove how my name should be spelt? Somehow I did it but it also made me consider that in that great leviathan of bureaucracy my name had suddenly changed and I wasn't aware that a change had been made. Scary. PS. My name is not Damon Wise.
When checking in for the return leg of a recent trip I was informed by the airline Cathay of a spelling mistake with my name in my passport. How the hell did they spot that? Security is getting ridiculously tight nowadays, you've even got to spell your name correctly! The small mistake had in my mind clearly been made by the passport office. Anyway, I decided to get it fixed which meant that I had to complete a new passport application. This I did and even got it countersigned by someone with high security clearance. (Don't ask or I'll have to kill you.) Feeling quite smug I posted it off and waited. I then received a letter from the passport office demanding full payment. The nightmare scenario flashed through my head, they want money and I'm going to refuse and I end up with no passport. Jan would probably tell you that I'm not the best when it comes to diplomacy but I shot off what I thought was quite a good letter and now I'm waiting and, at the time of writing, I have no passport.
When we were in France bush fires (mostly started by arsonists) were quite frightening and also quite spectacular. The fire fighting planes tended to work in threes and were quite amazing. If you have ever wondered about how Canadair fire fighting planes top up with water take a look at this. Imagine what the boat passengers thought at the end of the clip.
