I missed my walk yesterday, but today I did 4.18 miles (6.73 kilometres) and felt good at the end of it. I’ve been doing it for just over a week and may even keep it up! Today was excellent weather – much less humid than recently after the fierce thunderstorm of Wednesday night, but still warm. I walked up through the Rosary and Lion Wood, then went via Plumstead Road and Hilary Avenue on to the ring road and into Mousehold; from there across St James Hill, down on to Riverside Road, up Gas Hill and down to the back of our house.

Yesterday we went to Cromer (where I inducted a new trainee) and then North Walsham – first to the cemetery and then to Dot’s aunt Jessies’s. DCC meeting in the evening: went on to after 10pm, but very relaxed.

The picture is of a stormy sky in the hills north of Balmoral. We got some great sky pictures suring our holiday.

My grandson Oliver was four on Monday. He had a party on the Saturday, and this is him with his mum and dad – and the birthday cake. Dot and I were there too, of course. The party went really well – a nice bunch of children. The weather was kind too.

I’ve started a regime of walking at least two miles a day – and hope to raise it to three soon. I’m encouraged to do this by my new pedometer. I’ve worked out my stride length (32″) and now have confidence that the figure shown is accurate – measured against Dot’s car odometer. So of ocurse I can get a measure on all sorts of routes. Why I find this sort of thing interesting I don’t know. Sad really.

As I write this I’m listening to the new Bob Dylan album, Modern Times. Really good, with no dud tracks (though Beyond the Horizon is close to the edge). Some excellent stuff – spiritual, apocalyptic, prophetic – “the world has gone black before my eyes”. I love Nettie Moore, Spirit on the Water, but it’s all great. Reached number one in the USA – his first album to do so since Desire. Mixture of blues, jazz and country, with a laid-back feel and (unusually) quite a few instrumental solos.

I’ve agreed to do a short talk at the Dave Gemmell memorial service, which is on October 30 – the day we get back from South Africa. No problem if the plane is on time – it’s due to get in at 7am.

Just emerging from a period of hectic activity, including a holiday in Scotland. The picture is one of a number discovered at Dot’s Aunt Ethel’s. More may follow. This one is of Evelyn’s two children – Peter and Rosemary – Dot’s cousins. They haven’t changed much…

Barbara and Roger arrived from Canada on August 14, and we spent a day and a half showing them a bit of Norfolk, including the Hoste Arms at Burnham Market, Holkham beach, Blakeney, Lisa and Annette’s sitooterie at Blickling, our old cottage at Yelverton and Dot’s old house at North Walsham.

Left on the 16th for Skye, stopping overnight at Abington in the Borders and then travelling via Glasgow, Loch Lomond, Crianlarich, Glen Coe, Fort William and Kintail. Stayed three nights at a guest house in Kyleakin which was excellent. Covered most of the island, including a boat trip to Loch Coruisk from Elgol, with close-ups of the Cuillin; fish and chips in Armadale; very pleasant meal at the McKinnon Hotel; exceptional meal at the Three Chimneys, near Dunvegan; Portree; Trotternish; Uig. Weather quite reasonable, though it was cloudy and cool in Trotternish, so that we couldn’t get a view of the Quiraing or the Old Man of Storr. However, on the way to Elgol we had some terrific views of Bla Bheinn, which I intend to climb one day. So fascinated in fact, that my front nearside wheel slipped into a culvert at about 1mph while trying to squeeze past another vehicle. The other vehicle’s occupants helped push us out. No damage, thank goodness.

On the Sunday we drove over to Ballater via Torridon, though low cloud meant we couldn’t get a good look at the big mountains there. Had a quick look at Loch Maree, then on to Achnasheen, where we stopped for a snack in a really nice little cafe by the station. At Inverness found ourselves in a traffic jam on a bridge near Inverness Caledonian’s stadium: they were playing Celtic, and the hold-up was caused by fans crossing the road. South on the A9, then to Grantown on Spey, where we filled up with petrol and took the usual route to Ballater.

Weather in Ballater was very good, and we spent the first three days walking – so much so that I ended up exhausted, largely because I had been fairly low when I started. Throat was annoying, and I felt very low on energy. Nevertheless we started with a walk to Loch Callater. On the way back we were passed by Prince Harry in a Land Rover pulling a trailer full of dead deer; then by Prince Charles in a Range Rover, looking in a happy mood and giving us a wave. The next day we climbed Glas Maol, despite some thickish cloud on top, and the following day we did the long walk to Dubh Loch, above Loch Muick. On the way we saw Camilla walking some dogs, again seeming very happy. The walk went on and on, but Dubh Loch is stunning.

The next day B was keen to do another long walk – she really wanted to climb Lochnagar – but I had had it, and so had Dot. So she went off with Roger to walk up to the left edge of Loch Muick by the zigzag path, round and back by the steep path at the end and home. Dot and I relaxed and met them three or four hours later.

After that we took it easy, visiting shops and galleries including the amazing Lost Gallery in Strathdon, which is quite literally off the beaten track. Some impressive work, though, particularly by Peter Goodfellow and Sarah Cameron. In the end though I bought a print from the Knock Gallery near Balmoral, run by the impressive Polish lady who specialises in jewellery. Also visited McEwan’s – some very expensive stuff – and Larks in Ballater, but Annie had had a baby and wasn’t there. Went to the Butterworth gallery too, and I bought a small print there. Decided I wasn’t so keen on his depiction of building and people, though.

Popped in to the Fife Arms at Braemar a couple of times – still a delightful coffee shop – and of course the Log Cabin, which is under new management but not too different. Possibly even better. I bought a couple of shirts and a couple of rucksacks, which came in very useful.
Also went to Linn of Quoich, one of our favourite spots (B decided she wanted to walk the Lairig Ghru) and dropped in at the Lochnagar Distillery and Crathie Church.

Spent a Sunday in the Aviemore area, going up on the funicular to the restaurant and shop on Cairn Gorm – weather was not good enough to climb it, thank goodness – then driving to Loch Einan and walked round it, as the weather had improved. Very pleasant, with first-class loos. Drove through Aviemore, but weren’t inclined to stop, and got fish and chips in Ballater before the usual bridge.

The other big event was on the Saturday – the Lonach Gathering in Strathdon, to which we had been invited by Ella. Thousands of people there, with car parks all over the place. Well, fields, to be precise. Found a spot fairly easily, then were found by Ella and a friend and taken back to her car park for the picnic, which turned out to be for about 30, including one or two we knew, like Anne and Gareth. Amazing food and good company. We had seats for the Games – a few rows in front of Billy Connolly, who unfortunately didn’t have his usual retinue of celebrities because of fears he would have to go into hospital with an ear infection. But his wife Pamela Stevenson was there.

Games were colourful, with the Lonach men particularly impressive, as were the Lonach Ladies (“on the pull”) tug of war team. On the whole, though, not terribly well organised, with the announcer barely keeping up with what was happening. Worst moment was when the winner in the hill race – the premier event – arrived back in the arena without anyone noticing or giving him directions what to do. He ran the wrong way round the track and was initially disqualified, though he was eventually reinstated by the judges, who if they weren’t shamefaced, should have been. They also stood around by the winning line, getting in the way of runners who had to go round again. Bit sad, really. Still, it was all a terrific spectacle and an unforgettable experience, and afterwards we returned to the picnic site for a fill-up before heading home.

Called in at Holy Island and then Caddington on the way back to Norwich, to see the grandchildren. Bought some M&S food on the motorway and ate it at David and Vicky’s. Arrived late in Norwich.

The next day I took Roger to the Castle Museum to see an excellent exhibition called Rockface, while Dot and Barbara shopped. We ate in Cafe Rouge after Roger and I had spent ages getting his rental car. Started at the airport, but it wasn’t there, so had to go to the Longwater industrial estate at Costessey. Took a roundabout route as Middleton’s Lane was hopelessly jammed. Eventually picked up a rather nice Mercedes Diesel. So rental firms gave R the wrong place to leave his original car (Martineau Lane instead of the airport), and the wrong place to pick up the next one. Great record, especially as it was two different companies.

Roger and Barbara departed that evening for Essex, and we got back to almost normal. Happily Joe and Ilona, who had been staying in our house, had left it immaculate.

Just for a change, here’s a picture of me and Dot, taken with the IMac’s Photobooth facility. I know the quality’s not high, but I really like it.

It should have been a picture of my nephew Sam and his bride Lucy, who got married on Saturday, but I don’t have one handy. Maybe next time…

The weather was a total contrast to the wedding the previous Saturday between Richard and Debbie: then it was really hot and sunny; on Saturday it was coolish and raining steadily most of the time, as well as windy. The wedding was at Dereham Baptist Church, a massive building set so far back in the middle of the town that I had never noticed it, despite its being visible from the EDP offices, which I visit regularly.

We were fortunate to find on-street parking before getting right to the middle of the town, and it was a five-minute walk to the church. So instead of being late as I anticipated, with difficulties finding parking and heavy traffic, we were almost half an hour early. Very upbeat service in semi-charismatic, bouncy style. Dot and I nipped into the Sticky Bun cafe for a superb rhubarb crumble and cake while photos were being taken (cafe recommended by assistant in Dipples), then set off for reception at Norwich High School.

Because of the weather, photos were taken inside the school entrance, where there’s a rather splendid staircase. This was followed by a very good meal. I sat next to Adam Crothers, who stayed with us at 22 for three nights. He was one of the ushers (Joe was the other) and he came from Belfast; he is a bit of an expert on Bob Dylan. He is also extremely entertaining in a laid-back style: amazing dry wit. He spent most of the meal charming the bride’s grandmother, who I have to say looked terrific and was also pretty sharp.

Sam gave a very generous speech, largely off the cuff, which was fluent and well received. It did reveal, however, that he had not mastered the art of understatement.

Afterwards there was music from Sam’s laptop – carefully selected to ensure maximum dancing. Needless to say , there was only a small amount as usual. Dot and I were about to dance to I Got You Babe, when it was deleted from the playlist, together with Bohemian Rhapsody. So we went home. Not in a fit of pique, but because it was getting late and I had a splitting headache for some reason.

Now we are awaiting the arrival of the Murrays from Canada – well, from Essex, actually. The house seems pretty much perfect after six months of preparation, and it remains to be seen what we forgot. I can’t remember the last time I had a full night’s sleep.

We keep getting text messages from the family in France, which is nice. They seem to be having a good time. Dot tries to reply but can’t handle predictive text (nor can I) and can’t work out how to turn it off. Her last message ended: nun. Apparently predictive text won’t accept Mum.

Another picture of Dave, rather more recent, although there’s some dispute between my wife and myself about where it was taken. I thought it was at Aspland Road, but she thinks it was in his house at Hastings. She’s probably right. It gives an idea of his stature!

Yesterday we went to his funeral, which was small and private – only about 50 people! It took place at Hastings Crematorium. The vicar was from Christ Church, Ore, and knew Dave, and the eulogy was given by his friend Anne Gaye, wife of Stan Nicholls, the fantasy writer and another close friend of Dave’s. Another friend and best man, Steve, flew over from New Zealand to read a section from Sword in the Storm which was extremely moving. The opening and closing music, chosen by Stella, were Lay Down your Weary Tune, by Bob Dylan, and Hallelujah, by Leonard Cohen. Readings were from Isaiah 43 and 1 Corinthians 13, Dave’s favourite passage.

Afterwards there was champagne at Dave’s house. Many people we didn’t know, but some old friends too, like Val, his first wife, and their children, Luke and Kate, with Kate’s daughter Jordan, who is six. Also Val’s parents and sister Jenny, with Jenny’s children and Simon’s wife, who is a police officer. (Steve is also a police officer, so we felt very safe…) Also Dave’s sister, Linda, whom he’d only discovered in 1999, and her husband and two daughters – all of them lovely people. And Mary, who gave me a massage at Dave’s instigation many years ago.

Many others also present; some of them had brought pictures of Dave, and there was a collection of obituaries in the library. The one by Stan in The Times was excellent, and it was also interesting to read Russell Claughton’s in the local paper, the Observer.

The web has been full of praise for Dave:
http://www.thealienonline.net/blog/2006_07_01_tao_news_archive.asp
has most of the references.

We stayed until about 4.30 and then headed home, pausing only for some food at a Little Chef on the A21 that looked as if it was on its last legs. Food was OK, but that was about all. Arrived home at about 8.30pm.

As I write we’re having the carpet cleaned, following which we’re off to Blickling for the opening of the sitooterie – Annette and Lisa’s project. I forgot to RSVP, so I hope they let us in. We will then continue to North Walsham and probably pop in on Jessie. Weather is much cooler; hope it doesn’t go completely off the rails for the Murrays.

Incidentally, there’s a big alert at airports today after a terrorist plot was uncovered – there are fears that more people may be involved. No hand luggage is being taken on to the planes between America and the UK, because the aim apparently was to explode planes using a liquid explosive that could pass as shampoo. Fighting gets more and more extensive in the Lebanon, but we all carry on as normal. Is the world falling apart, or does it just feel like it?

An early picture of Dave Gemmell with his first wife Val and Dot on a boat on the Broads. His death seems to have hung over the last couple of weeks, and I’ve been very on edge. Tomorrow is his funeral. We are driving down to Sussex today, staying overnight with Stella and going to the funeral from there, returning here tomorrow evening. Happily everyone has rallied round Stella, the publishers being particularly helpful, and his friend Steve is flying in from New Zealand for the funeral.

Here in Norwich things have been very hectic, preparing for the visit of Roger and Barbara from Canada. We had three new doors installed last Friday, and Dot spent yesterday painting them while I caught up with administrative matters. I need to write another column by the end of the week.

On the up side, we’ve spent some lovely days with Oliver, who stayed with us on his own for the first time last week. We took him to Sheringham on the train, and the next day on the Bure Valley railway. He is a real delight to be with. If only we could keep up with him! He has now departed these shores and is in France, where the family are on holiday with Vicky’s parents.

We went to Richard Beales’ wedding to Debbie Smart last Saturday at Attleborough – very hot, and the children had a good time, I think. Excellent food. On Sunday we spent the afternoon and early evening at Yelverton – Denise and Peter’s ruby wedding celebration. Had a really good time talking to old friends, to the people who now own Holly Bank (Christine and her boyfriend Paul) and to Elaine and her new baby Oliver (!). Spent quite a time chatting to Marilyn and her new husband Philip – well, not that new, but we’d never met him. They live at Shelton. Excellent food and we felt really at home.

Meanwhile, I have a new computer, installed courtesy of my son a couple of Sundays ago. A real joy to use: my Dell had done well, but it was getting to be a real pain. This one has many features I have hardly glanced at, but it also does the normal things well, quickly and prettily. Wonderful. Much like Dot, now I come to think of it…

Dave Gemmell died in the early hours of this morning, four days before his 58th birthday, following a quadruple heart bypass last week (Monday, July 17). He had seemed to be making a good recovery, though when I spoke to him yesterday at his home he sounded exhausted.  He was struggling to make 500 steps a day as required, and had to “plan ahead to go upstairs”. He had been home for only a couple of days.

His wife Stella found him in his study this morning; it seemed he had been dead for some hours. There will be a post-mortem to find the cause of death, which is not yet known.  Stella rang us at about 10.30am. It was a huge shock.

Dave has been a close friend since the late 60s. When we met he was sports editor at the Acton Gazette, and I was a sub-editor. We went out for an omelette one lunchtime, and after that I frequently went round his flat, which was nearby, to play chess. After losing to him, I was rash enough to say I would never lose to him again. We played constantly until he did beat me, one day on the Broads. He would never play me again.

We kept in touch when I left London to come back to Norfolk, and he eventually moved down to Hastings. We met intermittently. He rose high in the newspaper world until he reached a crisis when he thought he had cancer and wrote a book about it – a fantasy book, which turned out to be a best-seller called Legend. It was the first of well over 20 books in the heroic fantasy mould, and he was a wonderful writer in any genre – especially good at characterisation and the poignant twist.

This brought him a certain amount of wealth, with which he was extremely generous to relatives and friends. He was a big man and a larger-than-life figure to whom you could listen for hours. He was a natural storyteller.

Recently he remarried and moved to a beautiful house in Sussex which we visited on three or four occasions. He had not been really well for a long time and hoped for a rejuvenated life after his operation. I shall miss him hugely. So will many, many other people.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/5224868.stm

I believe this is a picture of my wife’s great-great grandfather. Or to put it another way, my grandchildren’s great-great-great-great grandfather. His name is James Myhill, and he was born in 1851, maybe at North Walsham. I have this on the authority of no less a figure than my wife’s aunt Ethel, the only survivor of her generation of the Beales family.

The hot weather continues. Today we had lunch at Park Farm, and yesterday we had our jabs for South Africa – diphtheria, typhoid, polio and tetanus. Don’t feel too bad, considering.

Great news from Wellington Hospital yesterday. G’s bypass operation went very well, and he even got out of bed briefly, which totally amazed me. I spoke to S, who was at the hospital, and she seemed very upbeat. Want to keep ringing to check, but I guess you can overdo that sort of thing, especially when you’re not a relative.

Last night the Tuesday group ate al fresco – chicken and banana korma. Balmy evening – so much so that even I enjoyed being outside.

Turning out to be a month of ups and downs. Had a great birthday with Dot at Dunston Hall, and this weekend with David, Vicky and the grandchildren was wonderful. Took them up to a fair on Chapelfield Gardens yesterday, and today we joined in the annual church “pilgrimage” to Waxham. The weather was perfect – warm but with a cooling breeze – and Oliver and Amy had fun in the sea, followed by a barbecue. Oliver is turning out to be a good little footballer, especially his tackling. His tractor-driving is top-class, too. He gets all the reversing angles right!

The downs? Well, farewell to Dot’s aunt Evelyn, and now one of my closest friends – probably the closest over the years – has to have a quadruple heart bypass operation tomorrow. Spoke to him just now in hospital, and he’s obviously worried, not only for himself but for his wife. He’s very resilient and a fighter, so he has a good chance, but so many things can go wrong.

The picture is of Dot at Blakeney, looking out to sea.  Evocative.

This is a not very good reproduction of a picture of Dot’s mother (right) and her two sisters, taken at Evelyn’s home, Meadow Farm, Buck Brigg. The funeral for Evelyn (left) is next Tuesday at Erpingham Church. Erpingham is best known as the village where the school once had a head teacher called Wyatt Earp. No, really.

We shall be taking Ethel, the surviving sister in the picture, to the funeral.

Last night Dot and I went with Anne and Philip Robinson on a treasure trail round Norwich, starting and ending at By Appointment. Punch at beginning, canapes in the middle (Chapelfield Gardens) and meal at the end, which turned out to be the wrong side of 9pm after a 7pm start. Philip was flagging a bit, but we were still the second group back. Got most of the clues, but didn’t win. Not sure why. I suspect a fix. Lovely warmish evening.