Tag Archives: floods

Another brilliant Coen Brothers film

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Outside The Shady Oak in Fernilee, near Buxton
Outside The Shady Oak in Fernilee, near Buxton

A rather quiet few days for us, largely because the weather has been so wet and cold that we didn’t feel like doing much. Dot had a few appointments she had to keep, of course, but my excursions have been limited to accompanying her to the city on Saturday in search of linseed oil / methylated spirits (it’s a violin thing), driving to church on Sunday and taking the car in for an MOT and service yesterday.

We did start the week by going to the cinema (4 weeks out of 4) to see Inside Llewyn Davis, the latest Coen Brothers film, which is brilliant. It’s set in the 60s pre-Dylan folk scene of Greenwich Village (mainly) – a Dylan lookandsoundalike appears at the end – and it’s about success and failure. The title character is a very good folk singer but has several flaws, mainly his propensity for making the wrong decision at every turn. Beautifully done and highly recommended.

Have also read two good books – On the Steel Breeze by Alastair Reynolds and A Season in the West by Piers Paul Read. Reynolds has amazing ideas and writes beautifully well; and Read is just a first-rate novelist: his more recent The Misogynist was stunning.

I’ve also done some work on the family tree: I now have a death certificate for my great-great grandmother Sarah Lenton, who died in 1872. Have tried to find our her maiden name, but no definite success, though it may be Green. Meanwhile I’ve cleaned out a lot of files and have bought a shredder to deal with the sensitive papers. It was ordered on Saturday from Rymans and delivered yesterday.

I had to lead the service on Sunday because Carrie was dealing with a very sad case of a guy who accidentally overdosed on anti-depressants. Dot mentioned my new book.

I was fortunate yesterday when I took the car in for its service and MOT, because the rain cleared for almost precisely the time it took me to walk home (well over three miles). I called in at Barclays on Aylsham Road to pay in a cheque and then at the TSB in Magdalen Street to pay in church cheques. I toyed with going in to the city but felt too tired: I was exhausted when I got home – mainly, I think, because I had too much on. I was sweating quite lot. Felt much better later, when Dot drove me up to the garage to  ransom the car (just over £300).

Miserable as the weather is, we’re very fortunate to live in an area not so hard hit by flooding. The south and south-west are inundated, and now that it’s reached the Thames Valley, even the BBC are taking it seriously. That was quite unfair. I retract it.

Narrow quiz win for Mrs Robinson

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My mother sitting in the sun outside our flat in Fernleigh Road - with Dot in the background. Early 70s.
My mother sitting in the sun outside our flat in Fernleigh Road – with Dot in the background. Early 70s.

Since the dawning of the New Year and its attendant rain and wind, we have combined two major events with a lot of lying around, watching television and trying to catch up on sleep. The return journey to Coventry with Andrew worked well: a bit slow on the way there, but very quick and easy on the way back.

New Year’s Eve was spent in the company of the Robinsons, and very congenial it was too. Dot cooked a delicious moussaka, with perfect pea soup as a starter, and in between courses I gave them  a quiz that I had prepared earlier: 42 questions on 1964 (50 years ago) and 2014, with a few pictures of famous people thrown in. Philip may have still been suffering from the prostate biopsy he had the day before (or possibly the resultant alcohol ban) but he came in third, with Anne beating Dot by half a point. Pretty much a perfect result, you could say. Nothing suspicious there.

They stayed until well after 1am – the three of us imbibing much champagne and prossecco, and Philip enjoying his antibiotics – with some not very good music courtesy of Jools Holland in the background at first. While saying goodbye, we encountered our neighbours – Mary, Bob and Felix – returning in evening clothes from a night out at some Carrow Road function. Dot, being very merry, invited them in for a drink and nibbles, and it was 3am before we went to bed.

Meanwhile Chrissy had arrived at David’s for  a quiet New Year’s Eve, and on Thursday (the 2nd) Dot and I went down to join them for a day with the Coomes family. We arrived just after 1pm, and Oliver and Amy some time later, delivered by Dave and Julia. Thereafter the four children busied themselves with computer games (mainly the mysterious Minecraft), partly in the  company of Grace from down the road – a delightful girl who seems happy to go along with whatever Amy decides to do. Which is a good plan, it has to be said.

Chrissy and David cooked a very filling lasagne, preceded by rather inviting nibbles, and it was altogether a really nice day. The Coomes left just before us at around 8.30pm, and the journey home was very easy.

Yesterday saw some very wet and windy weather, including some hail, but Dot managed to walk to Morrisons during a break in the wetness. I have done very little walking in the last few days. Inertia is closing in. Still, I have written one and a half poems and have read half a book.  I also threw a shampoo bottle left-handed into the bin from the bath, which is why I wrote the poem. There are storms and floods in the West Country but Chrissy has reached the freezing fields of home safely.

Now you see it – oh no, maybe you don’t

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Flooding at Pull's Ferry
Flooding at Pull’s Ferry

The storm surge hit the east coast on the evening of December 5. It was the biggest surge since 1953, and there was a huge threat to property and to people’s lives. If you had switched on the BBC’s News at Ten, you would have been able to see exactly what was happening … No, wait, you wouldn’t have seen anything at all about it, because Nelson Mandela died at exactly the same time.

I have already written a piece on my website about what a shocking mismanagement of news this was, but the former news editor of the EDP tells me I’m wrong. I now see that it was exactly the right decision for news editors, but exactly wrong for viewers.

Anyway, as I write I believe the coast road at Walcott is still closed, and many homes along the coast have been flooded or destroyed. Homes have fallen off the dunes at Hemsby, where I spent my holidays as a child, when the sea never came anywhere near the dunes. The tidal Wensum flooded a bit at Norwich, but not much. Haddiscoe, way inland, was cut off.

None of this affected me much. On the Friday night Dot and I were at Open Studios in Norwich, where we bought a picture from Martin Laurance and some art boxes from Rupert Mallin. On the Saturday we were at Bacton Village Hall, just along the road from devastated Walcott. We had been diverted through Knapton by police, but this was because someone had turned a car over on the Bacton road from North Walsham. Quite an achievement.

The village hall event was a celebration of the Paston Heritage Society’s year – a very eventful one, culminating in the big exhibition at the Norfolk Record Office. Excellent refreshments and a slice of video from Peter Stibbons: a fun evening. Today Dot and I went to the last of the eight lectures: Rob Knee on the Paston Legacy. I read one of my poems in the middle of it, which was pleasing – for me, anyway.

It was my second performance in three days: on Sunday the band (Far Cry) travelled to Lowestoft to perform at the Seagull. Rob was there too, reading his winning poem in a recent competition. We did three songs – The Rolling Hills of Pakefield; Man in the Mask; and Falling Apart – as a foursome, with me on vocals and guitar, Phil on the other guitar and Dot and Emily (Phil’s daughter) on violin. As Emily had not rehearsed with us, she did well to even think about it. I think we sounded OK, but they’re a nice crowd who wouldn’t tell us if we hadn’t. We got some good applause, anyway.

Sunset glow on a ploughed field at Rockland
Sunset glow on a ploughed field at Rockland

Since the storm the weather has been calm but pretty chilly. On Monday Dot and I visited Geoff , who continues to recover well. He has walked to the village shop and been driven to a couple of events. He can walk around the house (slowly) without a stick. We had quite a long chat with him while Sophie was out, and I collected some antibiotics for him (for his toes) from the village surgery.

In the evening we went to the DCC, which proved quite short as there were several absences and Howard was there only briefly as someone who he hadn’t seen for a while had turned up unexpectedly. We discussed how to split the parish share and decided on 77-23 (it was 80-20). If I was treasurer, I would worry about this. Oh, I am.

On Tuesday, before being entertained by the Archers for Tuesday Group, I went to Fakenham for a Chronicle meeting. Sadly, Kay was absent as she had had a lot of trouble looking after her father-in-law, who broke his hip in Barcelona and had to be taken back to the Isle of Man. What are the chances of that happening? Anyway the three of us had soup and cheese and discussed our Oxnead project. Rob had written seven poems already; I had written one; and Caroline had written a half. Much to do. We are aiming at a book and premiere (possibly at Oxnead) in September.

Back in Norwich I got my new non-varifocal glasses from Boots and was relieved to find I could see through them (they’re for computer and music, but wearable most of the time if I want to). A much better solution.

Meanwhile Phil and Joy are still in Southampton, and Lucy is slightly improved, though I have heard nothing directly. My cousin Sandy in South Africa has lost her husband Alex, who was very generous to us while we were out there. He died of liver cancer, quite suddenly.

Joe has had a full page in the EDP on his photography, and he and Birgit are going to Germany for Christmas. I have written a few cards, and Dot has bought lots of presents.

as at 26 July 2007

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We have just completed a week in Normandy, and this might be considered to be the high point: Dot and Dave on one of the Etretat pinnacles reached by a narrow path from the main cliff. Julia and I declined the challenge as we both have a desire to jump off high things. The exposure was if anything worse than it looks here.

Etretat is a stunning little town north of Le Havre, reached across the Pont de Normandie. Its main features of course are the cliff formations – pinnacles and arches. We climbed the cliffs on both sides after having a coffee (tea), followed by lunch in a rather lovely restaurant, Des Deux Augustins, in the main street. I took the opportunity to have moules et frites. Actually, Dot declined the second climb because she was feeling a bit under the weather. Weather was excellent – warm but not hot enough to make the climb uncomfortable.

That was on Tuesday. We had arrived on Friday, after a long journey that featured a visit to hospital (my six-monthly check: blood test not improved) and a nightmare drive down the M11 through rain that was sheeting down. It was the same rain that caused huge floods in the west, especially Gloucesterhire, and I was quite surprised we kept going. In Kent things were much improved: warmer and dry. We stopped at services on the M20 near Maidstone before arriving early at the Tunnel. Caught a train about an hour before scheduled, and the journey through France was quite relaxing. Stopped at the Aire de la Baie de Somme for a while and reached Villers sur mer at around 8.45pm. Dave and Julia were staying in the top apartment, and we were on the ground floor, which had a garden. Very comfortable. Dave delivered croissants (sometimes a demi-baguette) every morning between 8.30 and 9.

On the Saturday we walked into town and bought provisions plus three bottles of cider, and then returned for lunch at our table on the lawn. After lunch went to Beuvron en Auge (l’un des plus belles villes de France) and did a walk of about 3.5 miles up a hill to a church and back. In town had crepes flambes and cider as rain begam to pour down. Dave and I went to look at model trains while the women shopped: Dot bought €45 necklace – anniversary present. Julia cooked evening meal.

Sunday was dry and pretty warm. In the morning we drove into Pont l’Eveque for a traditional market. Also a flea market (Les Puces), where Dot bought a watch for €6. Followed this with coffee (tea) at a pavement cafe and lunch at home on the lawn. In the afternoon we drove to Dives sur mer, where we parked and walked into Cabourg, along the river and then the prom. Took in the Grand Hotel, where there was an excellent exhibition, and Dupont’s cafe, where I had a truly mouth-watering cake which included elements of dark chocolate and cherries. Walked up and down main street, and Julia bought a white anorak. In the evening we walked into town and had a lovely meal at Le Mermoz. Waiter, duck and sunset all outstanding.

On Monday it rained all day, and our intended visit to Etretat was abandoned. Instead we walked into town to buy lunch between drops of rain and in the afternoon Dot and I drove on our own to Caen to see the Memorial (Peace Museum). Not an easy journey, especially along the Peripherique. Bad at first – packed with cars and people; we had to park in a field, and Dot was not feeling well. Still, we persevered – at least, Dot did – and we eventually got tickets for the tour and a couple of films, both of which were quite good, though the one called “Hope” was anything but. Lots there – maybe too much – but to our generation nothing really came as a surprise. I was struck by a big picture of two resistance workers hanging: their faces looked almost angelic, whereas pictures of collaborators had something empty about them. Maybe we were projecting our feelings… Julia cooked in the evening.

Tuesday we did manage Etretat, and on Wednesday it was Honfleur.We took the green bus from just up the road, which went along the coast, then dipped inland. My stomach was feeling gassy, but shortly after arrival we had mint tea at a pavement cafe which seemed to settle it completely: the tea had actual mint in it and was delicious. Walked around the town a bit and then had lunch – a €23 four-courser. Mine was delicious – foie gras, steak, cheese, sorbet – but unfortunately Julia’s was very disappointing, and everyone who had fish (ie everyone but me) agreed that the sauce was excessive. Visited one or two exhibitions afterwards and walked up into the old town (actually it’s all old) away from the harbour,calling at a few exhibitions and shops. Lovely place. Julia on unsuccessful quest for licorice ice cream, which was supposed to be sold by the harbour. Eventually got the bus back at about 6 and changed at Deauville.

Today (Thursday) we left about 10 for an easy journey back up to Calais, stopping again at the Somme. Got train at Calais an hour early ands because the M25 was heavily roadworked, took the Blackwall Tunnel, which worked out well. However, on the M11 heavy rain returned to welcome us back. Stopped at services, then took a roundabout route via Saffron Walden. Traffic very heavy towards Elvedon, so detoured again via Brandon. Extremely tired at home. Wrote column, then had diarrhoea and shaking. Hot bath helped a bit: went to bed very early.