British Touring Cars: fisticuffs!

I recorded ITV4's coverage of the British Touring Car Championship (BTCC) races at the Rockingham race circuit last Sunday, and I've finally got round to starting to watch it. It's a daunting task, as they broadcast the whole day's events, including all the support races as well as the day's three BTCC rounds, from 11ish in the morning to 6 in the evening.

There's been a lot of tension in the Touring Car Championship this year because the series is in a state of transition, from the existing FIA-rules based S2000 formula (highly tuned normally aspirated 2 litre engines, modified suspension, production saloon and coupe bodies, light-weight chassis, etc.) to the new Next Generation Touring Car spec, AKA NGTC (turbo engines, wider track, fewer lightweight components, etc: you can google/wikipedia the details for yourself). This year teams were allowed to choose whether to go over to the much cheaper to run full NGTC spec car (but which would obviously cost a bit to develop initially), stick with the expensive to run but proven S2000 one, or a hybrid of the two, with an NGTC engine in an S2000 car.

At the moment, the S2000 cars have more complex internals to the engines, more exotic materials and light-weight components, and are therefore more expensive to run; but because BTCC didn't follow the FIA route and reduce the engine capacity to 1.6 litres (as used in this year's World Rally Championship) when transitioning from S2000 rules to the turbo engines, they would obviously be much more powerful, at full boost, than even the most highly sophisticated of the normally-aspirated S2000 ones. This would have meant that the S2000 spec cars would not only be more expensive to run, but would have had a performance disadvantage in all but the most twisty of circuits where their more sophisticated chassis would hold sway. Also, it would have meant that the result of each race would have been a foregone conclusion based on the circuit layout. In any case, it doesn't matter if the cars have parity over the season: to follow the BTCC ethos, there has to be close racing on track.

As a result, the turbo boost on the NGTC engined cars (whether the car is full NGTC spec or a hybrid) has been reduced to try to ensure parity. The hybrid cars have an NGTC engine in an S2000 chassis, with some limitation on components, so I imagine their turbo boost level is capped to a fairly low level, where the full NGTC should be allowed a little more boost to compensate for their weight/chassis disadvantage. The whole thing is supposed to work out so that every type of car has a chance of competing at every circuit, so where the S2000 cars have the advantage on the twisties, the turbo cars have a better chance on the straights. All of this is an attempt to deliver the classic BTCC product, which is very close racing by high-end professional racing teams, and to give people who love motor racing and hate the processional aspects of series such as Formula 1 something to watch.

Of course, teams and drivers on each side of the divide feel they are at a disadvantage during this transition year. Jason Plato is driving for Silverline Chevrolet who are fielding S2000 spec Chevy Cruzes this year. It's a winning combination, and Plato and Silverline took the BTCC championship last year. His arch-rival Matt Neal is driving for the works Honda Racing team (run by Team Dynamics), in a hybrid Honda Civic, with an NGTC engine in an S2000 chassis. It has to be said that despite the S2000 chassis, the handling of the Honda falls somewhat short of that of the Chevy, but is still producing consistently faster lap times - mainly because as soon as they hit a straight, despite the turbo boost restriction, they are much quicker accelerating, and can just drive past the normally aspirated S2000 cars, particularly on the longer straights.

Despite having a car which is slower in the twisties, Matt Neal has been able to hold up the sweeter handling Chevy of Jason Plato, keeping in front until he can blast away on the straight. This has lead to double frustration on Plato's part, because his driving skill and his Chevy's handling advantage can rarely be used (not that Neal isn't also a skillful driver, but he's hardly having to apply himself this year). Should Plato get his Cruze into the bends first, however, he is able to gap the Honda and the other chasing hybrids and NGTCs: the question is, can the pure S2000s make a big enough gap to avoid being passed on the long straights of circuits like Snetterton or Thruxton? The answer to this seems to be "No" at the moment.

Neal complains that he gets blocked by weaving cars on the straights, so that he is unable to use the advantage that his car has. In my opinion though, given the "single move" rule, it's easier to block with a slow car in the twisties than it is with a car that is slow on the straights. Despite disliking Plato's arrogant attitude (and he's always been like this) I think I side with him. The Hondas should not be walking away with this year's championship. If a car is only fast on the straights, and can just drive past the competition without the need for any skill on the driver's part, it's not motor racing. Having said that Plato's arrogant, Neal is very smug, and that's not a very likeable trait either.

All this boiled over during the qualifying for last weekend's BTCC meet at Rockingham, with it's long start/finish straight on the 'oval' part of the circuit (it, like most of motor racing's so-called ovals, is a rectangle with rounded corners). In trying to better his provisional pole position time, Plato aggressively blocked Matt Neal from passing him at the end of the straight, so he wouldn't be held up in the twisty in-field part of the circuit. When they came around again to the straight, Neal drove up to the back of Plato's car, and rammed him from behind. This just demonstrates the speed differential, that a Touring Car could drive into the back of another one (outside of a braking zone, of course) so hard that it's described as a ramming! Touring cars have always in the past been matched for speed, so that it was down to the drivers to provide the racing, not the car's technological advantage. That's what's always given us the close racing we love in BTCC.

Despite these shenanigans, Plato posted the fastest time for pole position, and triumphally and childishly flipped Neal the bird, at which Matt Neal completely lost it. In an astonishing display of unprofessional behaviour, all caught on camera, Neal went for Plato, and both had to be held back by their team crews. Rather oddly, to my mind, Neal threatened to "rip [Plato's] f***ing face off", while Plato returned to his motorhome, still giving the single-finger salute (what's wrong with the traditional British vee, by the way?).

Neither driver came out of this well, both looking petulant and childish. Both were fined £1,000 and had 3 points put on their driving licenses: these must be adding up by now, and they should both be careful that they don't get a racing ban. It was absolutely hilarious, though, and I wish they'd just let them get to it. As commentator and former BTCC competitor Tim Harvey said, I guess it shows how much it means to them.

It has to be remembered that this problem is going to last one season only, and next year they'll all be in NGTC cars: they'll all just be  known as Touring Cars then, and we'll be able to get back to single-class, first past the post racing, and Plato and Neal will have to find another reason to hate each other ... not that they have ever needed one before.

Experiences in Canada, Pt 3

In Whistler, 10 July

We stayed overnight at the Nita Lodge hotel, built on the shores of Lake Nita, a little outside the village of Whistler itself. The rooms were beautiful, lined with local wood and stone, and the restaurant had a deck overlooking the lake, with fantastic views of the mountains behind.

The Rocky Mountaineer staff dropped our bags off at the hotel, so we were free to join a walking tour of the Olympic village. One thing that surprised me was how warm it was at this altitude (2,142 feet) : one of the restaurants had cool water misting the air above its customers sitting outdoors, and suntan lotion was a must. Well, that lasted the first day and some of our second day there, after which it clouded over and became much cooler, but no worse than at home.

Most of the centre is like any other town, full of shops and eateries, but with the distinction of being totally traffic free. Cars and coaches must be left in car-parks off the village’s bypass, leaving the village centre completely free for pedestrians and cyclists. Cyclists are only allowed to ride on the trails, and are obliged to walk their mounts through the village, dismounting at the barriers surrounding the centre: being Canadian, on the whole, this rule was pretty strictly observed.

The village of Whistler sits at the foot of the mountain of the same name, and of Blackcombe Mountain. Whistler was used for the skiing events, and in summer the pistes are used by mountain bikers. We sat in one of the outdoor restaurants for a time, watching the bikers hurtle down the mountain – they only rode down, taking advantage of the gondola to get the top of the runs.

There are access roads to various stages of the downhill runs, put there by the Olympics organisers to allow them to recover skiers should they have the misfortune to crash: this comes in handy for the mountain bikers, and we saw the ambulance in use a couple of times while we were there.

At one point, a bear and her cub were spotted on the fringes of the runs, so everyone had to stop until she’d wandered away. I think the cyclist in the photo above was the first one to spot her in the trees, and was looking at her as he passed.

That night we had a very nice meal at the hotel, together with a very expensive bottle of wine: drinking in Canada is not quite as expensive as in major European cities, but it’s a lot dearer than at home.

 

In Whistler, 11 July

After a good night’s sleep, we had a bit of a wander around the village, looking at some of the sights, including the Olympic and Paralympic symbols. Of course, I had to support with "my people" so I had my picture taken beside the latter: not sure I agree with the concept of the broken rings - I don't think I like the connotations of that.

Then we queued for the gondola to the top of Whistler Mountain. With fantastic views of the Olympic village on the way up, and of the mountain ranges at the top (alt. 7,494 feet), it’s a trip well worth taking.

As can be seen from the photos above, the day was a rather gloomy one, but that didn’t really spoil the trip: the mountains looked moody and magnificent – very hard to capture in a photo.

As well as the views, there are a restaurant and a gift shop, of course! The food there was typical Canadian: Burger, Steak or battered fish sandwiches. You’d think, being an outdoorsy sort of country, the food would be healthier, but it is typical North American – except that you can get fried fish in your bun in addition to the usual stuff. Anyhoo, I really liked the Inukshuk statue at the top of the mountain.

This particular one, called Ilanaaq, was the symbol of the 2010 Winter Olympics. Not all inuksuit (which is the plural of “inukshuk”) are human shaped – in fact, these are in the minority, and form a subset of inuksuit called “inunnguat” (the singular of which is “inunnguaq”). They are cairns made by Canadian Inuit and other First Nation people as a landmark: anyway, you can look it up for yourself in Wikipedia. It’s quite interesting.

Once we’d finished taking in the views at the top of Whistler Mountain, we took another gondola across to Blackcombe Mountain (marketed as the “Peak-to-Peak”), and then the chairlift back down to Whistler Village. We had packed our camera away, being scared that we might drop it, and so missed the opportunity to photograph a group of black bears lazily feeding on the grass just a couple of dozen feet below us, and less than half a mile from the village. One was lolling on his side, munching at the grass beside his head – the very image of laziness!

 

Return to Vancouver, 11 July

The return trip was the reverse of our ride up, but, keeping the same seats, we’d get the views on the other side.

We were all to have another night and day in Vancouver before Phyllis took her flight up to Powell River to meet up with her cousin. Our day sightseeing in Vancouver will be the start of the next instalment!

Experiences in Canada, Pt 2

First Evening in Vancouver

We arrived in Canada in no time at all: because of the time difference, the clock only read a couple of hours later than when we left. This would come back to bite us on the return trip. Anyway, the upshot was that we arrived in Vancouver in the mid afternoon, and Denise, Phyllis and I all decided we would stay awake as long as possible, so we went for a walk.

Here are Phyllis and Denise, enjoying the sunshine

Vancouver’s waterfront is very much the garden city, with upmarket residential high-rises and public parks lining the harbour. In this respect, Vancouver differs almost entirely from European cities, which use their waterfronts for cafes, restaurants and hotels, and it was quite hard to find anywhere to eat. While this was a little frustrating, the city looked spectacular in the early evening sun.

 

 

Vancouver Harbour

The hotel was very nice, but for some reason, they had mixed up the bookings and had us in a twin room for some reason. That took a while to unravel, but we were to learn that in Canada, a “double room” is a room with two beds (i.e. what we would call a “twin”): we never did find out what they called a room with a large bed for two people. They are a weird people in so many ways.

We were very central, and within a short walk from the waterfront and as we wandered down there that first evening, we found that the city was very bicycle friendly. All the way round the harbour there was a pathway separated from the road system, which was split one side for cycles, the other for pedestrians. We were going to have some time back in Vancouver after our excursion (more about that below), so Denise and I decided that we’d try to hire bikes on one of those days and have an explore.

Vancouver sits squeezed between coast and mountain, shielded from the Pacific on one side by a number of islands, and with the backdrop of snow-capped mountains behind. It makes the city a particularly pretty place to wander around, with the glass fingers of the skyscrapers contrasting starkly with the dark mountains and the sea.

Train trip up to Whistler
As part of the holiday, we’d booked a return train trip up to the 2010 Winter Olympic village in Whistler. It’s not quite the Rockies, being situated in the Coastal Mountain Range – imaginatively named – but very spectacular nonetheless. Again, we were to be in a town surrounded by mountains.

But first, the train trip up. We were collected, with all our luggage, from the hotel and bussed to the railway station in Northern Vancouver (very select, very posh). The luggage was whisked away onto the guards van, and would be taken to our hotel on arrival in Whistler, so we didn’t have to worry about anything. And that was the tone of the trip. The on-board staff were entertaining, cheerful, friendly and helpful (like the vast majority of hospitality staff we came across), and the only sour note of the whole trip was that, when we arrived at the railway station to board the train, we found that there was a picket line waiting for us. The picketers were on-board staff who had been locked out by the train company after threatening to strike after failing to negotiate a resolution to their dispute about overtime and working conditions. The picketers warned us that we would not be getting the service we had paid for, as the replacement staff who would be looking after us had ‘minimal training’ and were not fully conversant with the level of hospitality and safety required on this premier service. I can’t say anything regarding the safety training the staff had received, but neither can I imagine anything more they could have done for us with regard to our comfort and general wellbeing.

Denise & Phyllis seemed to be enjoying themselves

Once we got underway we had champagne and/or orange juice and a very nice cooked breakfast. We passed through beautiful coastal scenery (through the trees, so photos didn’t really do it justice) before starting to ascend the mountains into the more spectacular stuff. I could soon see why there were two large diesel locomotives at the head of the train: the gradient was quite something for such a heavy train (people + luggage + comfy furniture + heavy wood coach-built carriages!), and we were told that the gradient got as steep as 2%, which is a lot for a train of this type.

Another Rocky Mountaineer train, in a siding near Whistler

That's enough for now: these photos take ages to upload!

Next episode: Whistler, and back to Vancouver (did I say this was to be a short series?!)

Experiences in Canada Pt. 1

This is the first in a short series of posts about our holiday in British Columbia, the western-most Canadian Province. I will write most of the series when I get home, mainly because of the cross-network data costs here in Canada. I'll be up-dating my facebook status each time I post a new episode.

Just three more days before we head for home, and we'll be sorry to go. Throughout this holiday we experienced cities, small towns, wilderness and even a mountain-top or two; we walked, cycled and kayaked, and came across bald eagles, whales, seals and black bears. Not bad considering we hadn't before really considered Canada as a place we particularly wanted to visit on holiday. We are both so very glad we came.

As usual on our holidays we went from place to place, to get as broad an experience as possible; our route taking us from Vancouver to Whistler and back, to Vancouver Island for Victoria and Ucluelet, then back to the mainland for Powell River, and finally (in a few days from now) to Vancouver again for the flight home.

In later posts I will go into detail about the places we've been, the things we've done, and what we've seen. I'll also be writing about my impressions of the country and people over in this corner of the great North American continent.

I'm going to end this introduction here, because two-thumb typing this on my mobile's keypad is painfully slow; but look out for the next installment, which I'll announce in my facebook status, if that's your thing.

SF for boys AND girls!

A recent report on radio speculated as to why fans of science fiction are, in the main, male, since so many science fiction authors are female. I think there is confusion here: males constitute the majority of the fan base for SF on screen, but the literature is read by both sexes. I've said it before, but SF on TV and in movies is about eighty years behind the literature, with some honourable exceptions. Most people equate SF with Star Trek, Star Wars and so on, but a lot of the stories carried in these series are mainstream fiction in a science fiction setting. When I watch this stuff, I often think, "why is this classed as SF?", because the same story could be told in almost any genre, or even in a non-genre form. The SF is simply set dressing.

Anyway, I've allowed myself to become distracted, because I was going to write about the 2003 TV series Firefly, but when I started thinking about it, I realised that this series had something in it to appeal to both genders: lots of action, fighting and tech for the boys, and relationship developments and character building for the girls. Well, I'm obviously stereotyping here and should probably get shouted at for that last sentence, but the point is that the writing on Firefly was very rounded, appealing, I would have thought, to fans of drama, romance and mystery as well as to fans of SF.

Firefly was yet another cult series commissioned and cancelled by Fox after their usual genius fashion, getting us hooked on something, then whipping it out from under us, leaving us bereft. Produced and co-written by Joss Whedon (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel), Firefly has his familiar deft touch in drama and humour. The story is simple: there is no huge quest, the main protagonists are not extraordinary people, and there is no major political issue. Ex-soldier Mal Reynolds (Nathan Fillion) is the captain of the Firefly class cargo ship Serenity, trying to eke out a living in a post-war galaxy. He and his first officer, Zoe Washburn (Gina Torres) fought, on the losing side, for independence against the unifying force of the Alliance, but, whereas other writers might have depicted them waging a resistance war against the Alliance and trying to overthrow them, Whedon has resisted this temptation, and instead tells an everyday story of simple trading folk. This doesn't mean that there's no action; far from it: it's simply not possible to earn a big enough profit to keep a Firefly trader flying by purely legal methods; which, of course, means getting involved with smuggling and the dodgy characters associated therewith.

The clever bit in Firefly is in the mixing of past and future to make a plausible "now" for the purposes of the story. A lot of the worlds Serenity carries her wares to are frontier colonies, with Western-style clapboard houses and mud streets, and there are broad brimmed hats, low slung shooters, horses and carts as the main form of transport, and a general absence of law. This is mixed with run-down privately owned trader spaceships, shiny hi-tec Alliance spaceships, directed energy weapons that look like six-shooters and interplanetary communications. It's neither Mad Max dystopia nor Star Trek hi-tec shiny utopia, but a more realistic-feeling something-in-between.

The ship Serenity, herself, has a well used, patched up look, and is a major character in the series. Every deck was built in full on the lot, so that following shots can run from the bridge to the cargo bay. According to the cast, it became a very real place for them. A lot of what the crew do is motivated by keeping the ship up and running, so that she, in turn, can be used to earn them a living. Sometimes the crew are living on survival rations, because buying parts for the ship takes priority over having fancy food to eat. After a profitable bit of trading, the crew can be seen chowing down on fresh fruit and vegetables, luxuriating in the extravagance of it - it's obviously a rare treat.

The ship is well loved, and it is home to the crew of nine, as well as a means of transport and trade. There is a scene showing Mal Reynolds falling in love with the Firefly at first sight, obviously seeing its potential over the other vessels on offer. He calls her Serenity after the battle of Serenity Valley, which saw the end of the Independents' resistance to the Alliance, and in which all but one of his squad were killed. And that was a huge squad, as officers above him were killed, their units came under the then Sgt Reynolds' command. He was hugely admired as a commander, but could do nothing against the superior numbers and technology of the Alliance: the pain of all those casualties forged his character as an indomitable adversary, and protector of his crew. Whatever threat is made against his crew or his ship, Reynolds never gives up until they are safe again, and this portrayal makes him a tremendously strong character in the series. Why does he do it? "My crew, my ship. MY. CREW." is his answer, and you never doubt him for a moment.

The other person in love with Serenity is her engineer, a young woman called Kaylee Frye (Jewel Staite). Although without any formal training, she has a natural affinity for engines and engineering, and keeps Serenity flying through intuition and innovation. Often having to make do with what's available, she jury-rigs systems to keep everything going, so puts her heart and soul into the ship and won't have a word said against her. Kaylee is the cohesive force in the crew, balancing the authority figure of Reynolds: she always sees the best in everyone and in every situation, and is the first to comfort crew-mates in distress, or to try to resolve conflict between them. Consequently, she can get very hurt if anyone says anything to denigrate her (or Serenity). Staite is well cast for this character, having an open, friendly face, quick to smile, and is very convincing as this likeable girl. She puts in a tremendous performance, and you immediately warm to her - I mean immediately, as in: within the first half hour of the first show; so you are very shocked and dismayed when she is shot and critically injured. The way the character has chalked her name hippie-style, surrounded by flowers, on the door of her quarters says so muh about her immediately. It's a very clever device, not only adding to the characterisation, but the contrast between the coloured chalk and the grey metallic door it adorns also says so much about the crews' lives, making the best of what they've got, and making what they've got all theirs.

Some clever techniques are used to make you feel in the "now" of the show. One of these is language and culture. The premise of the society at this future time is that two dominant cultures pushed out into space: Eastern/Chinese, and Western/American, so everyone speaks Mandarin as well as English. The crew will often drop into Mandarin, particularly to vent anger at, or frustration with, another character or the situation. The cast had to learn how to pronounce the Mandarin lines properly, so the feeling of it being real is maintained. Most of the lines said in Mandarin are ones that it wouldn't matter if the viewer didn't understand, and it also gave them a way of getting a few choice obscenities past the censors. English is spoken with a convincing idiomatic combination of cowboy and neologisms. Sentence structure and phraseology is archaic, with some words being assigned new meanings, such as "shiny" being used to mean "great", "fine" or "excellent". For example:
MAL: "Problem?"
KAYLEE: "Nope. No. Everythings shiny."
The slang isn't so dense that you can't make sense of it, but it's different enough from modern English to convince you that you're in a different time.

Novel or uncommon production techniques are also used. At a time before it became de rigeur in such US dramas, single hand-held cameras are used almost throughout. Some of the focusing and framing is deliberately sloppy and amateurish, to make you feel like you are there, looking from person to person, and not absolutely catching every movement or facial expression. You might see someone's expression start to change, just as the camera sweeps away to look at someone else: you don't see the full expression, but you get enough of a glimpse to know what they're thinking. These techniques are even carried over into the CGI shots: you might be looking at a spaceship running at speed in the atmosphere, but it's like an amateur operator trying to follow a Formula 1 car with a pocket video camera - it never quite gets centred, and focus is lost and regained, while the camera zooms in during the shot, as if in an attempt to get detail, but then zooms back out again as if the camera operator has realised that framing and focus would be too hard to maintain at those zoom levels.

I picked up the box set of Firefly after having seen the feature film Serenity when it was aired recently. The programme guide that said it was based on a TV series called Firefly, which has never been on free-to-air TV, only on Sky, so I'd never heard of it. When I saw the reviews on Amazon, and that it was only £12.95-ish for the series, I decided to get it on the off chance. I loved it, as you can see, and like all the other fans who bought the box set, cannot for the life of me fathom why they cancelled it. There were a lot of threads that had been introduced in what should have only been the first series, that never got resolved. Some were tied up in the feature film, but there are so many open stories, many about characters I've not even mentioned in this review, it should have gone on for at least three seasons. Exactly what did the Alliance do to River Tam to turn her into a both a nervous, emotional wreck and a killing machine? Will Kaylee ever get to be with River's brother, Dr. Simon Tam? Will he-man Jayne Cobb ever get over having a girl's name? Who are the men in blue rubber gloves? And will Inara, a professional courtesan and Companion, ever admit her love for Mal Reynolds? If the TV series is ever picked up again and continued, will they go with the consequences of the events in the feature film, or will they rewind to the end of the first series? These questions and many more will probably never be answered; and I'll say no more, because that would spoil things if you want to watch these yourself.

Graeme's gift to his friends

Last Saturday (21^st May) was a day that Denise and I will always remember. Our good friend Graeme celebrated his 60^th birthday and a life in music by inviting family and a large number of friends - among whom, I am very pleased to say, we are included - to a music festival a hotel near his home in Fife.

There were 10 acts, starting at about 1.30 in the afternoon with Graeme’s daughter performing with R&B/Funk/Blues band Lights Out By Nine. Sad to say we arrived too late to see that one-and-only performance, as Siobhan only did this gig as a tribute to her dear old dad, being more interested in the technical aspects of stage work than performing live.

This was quickly followed by Jane Taylor and Friends. Jane is a good friend of Graeme's family, and a - now well established - folk and country recording artist, having appeared at a load of festivals, including Glastonbury. She has two albums under her belt: we have a copy of the very excellent Compass, which we bought when she appeared at one of Graeme’s Live at the Musistadl living room recordings. We arrived too late to see Jane this time, unfortunately, but, having seen her at Graeme’s before, we were not too disappointed. I don’t usually listen to folk or country music, but live music is always worth hearing, and Jane has a wonderful voice that just has to be listened to.

I just have to mention the setup at this point. The “stage” was really a performance area at one end of the hotel’s function room, but it was fully rigged with a professional PA and mixing desk, and had to be changed between acts. This was professionally and rapidly done in about a tenth the time it takes in purpose built venues, using no less gear and cabling. The only thing that remained on stage throughout the event was a drum-kit and one of the guitar amps. I was very impressed that they managed to turn around 10 acts, incorporating 52 musicians according to Graeme’s head-count, between 1.30 and 11.45; and the longest interval was 15 minutes!

We arrived about half way through the set of the next act. As we arrived, we heard this heavy sounding rock band playing, and thought, OK, so it’s not all going to be folk and country – we’ve got a proper rock band on now. Wonder who they are? As we got a drink we could hear, but not see them, and they were hammering out a tight set of rock, punk and indie numbers. The rhythm section was driving the band on, and the lead guitarist really seemed to know their stuff. The band was fronted by a girl singer, but her voice, while very powerful, sounded odd – a little, y’know, right at the top of the high register? Anyway, we got served and finally manoeuvred into a position where we could see the performance area and were faced with … (dan! dan! daaahh!)  a bunch of eleven-year-olds! Our jaws hit the floor, and we looked at each other and just grinned. We’d just seen the future of future of rock ‘n’ roll, and it’s called Loud ‘n’ Proud, a bunch of schoolkids who have been playing together for about 2 years, but who sound as good together as (insert name of a long-established band that isn’t a shambles here). They exuded energy and enthusiasm, tempered with technical excellence and a real stage presence. That little girl fronting the band did everything she should have been doing as the one at the front. She was engaging with the audience, introducing each number with confidence and humour, fading into the back-ground for the soloists’ bits, and generally just owning that stage. If they stay together they are going to be soooo biiigggg!

Next came a folk trio from Devon (they came all the way up for this gig!) called Alan West & Steve Black. Spot the mistake, there? The third guy was the bassist, so he obviously doesn’t count. My bruv Simon (“The Bassist”, a.k.a. “the heart of the band”) should be getting very angry right now. Good act, great songs, and a lot of silly banter and bickering between numbers.

We were told, in our invitations, that the idea of the day was that the guests could come and go, take a break, have a nap and come back later. Is he kidding? We couldn’t tear ourselves away!!

The fifth act (and we are counting) was Dave Arcari. Dave is tall, with very dark short hair and a very dark long narrow beard, going grey at the end. He was wearing a faux cowboy Ramones shirt (black with white detailing and pocket flaps), a pair of black jeans, and a pair of very scruffy black Doc Martin’s. He was holding a very shiny chrome National Steel guitar, but he had a spare black one on a stand behind him. Got the picture? We’re talking monochrome here. Now, describing the man was quite easy, but describing his act is more … problematic. He’s definitely an after-the-watershed act normally, but manfully toned it down for the mixed audience. Imagine a cross between Pete Townsend (windmilling arms, running around the stage), Sid Vicious (crouching over the microphone, rolling his eyes up in his head) and Johnny Cash (the man in black). Now imagine him playing delta-blues slide guitar (remember the National Steel?) in the style described above, covering numbers by Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf numbers et. al., all in double time, in a roaring, growling voice. Close your eyes, though, and there was a lot of control and skill in the guitar playing, especially given his on-stage gyrations. Definitely a … unique act, and a grin a minute.

So the sixth act was a large outfit called Big River. They did Johnny Cash numbers in their own style. Not being a lover of the man (speak it softly), I didn’t know any of the songs apart from one or two. They were very good at what they did, but this was really the only act of the day that didn’t grab me, and that’s not bad, considering how many acts there were, and how many different styles of music there were. Graeme crafted the festival in such a way that there’d be something for everyone, so it’s no surprise that there was something that wasn’t my cup of tea: I was delighted that it turned out just to be the one act.

The seventh act were a very local act called The Complainers from Charlestown, where the hotel was. The name says it all: they did a couple covers of Proclaimers songs, plus a number of anthems and duos (a la Everly Brothers) and were great fun. The drummer was definitely in charge, pulling them up at the start of one number when the keyboard came in on the wrong count. It was all good natured and very enjoyable. Actually, this counting-in error was really the only noticeable blong all day, and the quality of the performances was of the very highest level, professionals and non-professionals alike.

Number eight now (this is starting so read like a Desert Island Discs script), and my highlight of the day, Cousti. Don’t ask me where the name comes from: try looking on the band’s website www.cousti.com. The musical style is definitely Americana Folk-Rock, with close harmonies and nice acoustic and electric guitar riffs (think, Eagles). Oh, I just noticed, “Cousti” is a bit like “acoustic” isn’t it? I wonder if that’s it? Anyway, their website also has some samples from their albums to give you an idea of the sound, which is so polished on stage as to be indistinguishable from a studio set. The nearest British band I can think of is Stackridge, but more American and less whimsical than them, but the sound is quite similar in some ways. I just sank into the rich, velvety, intertwining strings sound and was well away.

Old favourite of ours, singer-songwriter Alex Cornish and his band, was next up. He was one of Jane Taylor’s “& Friends” earlier in the day, so he was having a long wait for a drink. He’s another one who has appeared at the Musistadl on his own and with Jane Taylor, and his album Until The Traffic Stops is one that can, and should, be listened to again and again. He is a highly accomplished acoustic guitarist, and his intricate pick-work adds so much atmosphere and texture to his lyrics. His unique style was very much appreciated by the audience, who wouldn’t let him off without an encore. I like Alex’s music very much, and was glad to hear him live again, this time with his excellent band (he was solo at Graeme’s Living Room Recordings sessions). His new album No Shore is out on June 13^th.

The final spot of the night saw the return of Lights Out By Nine, on their own ticket this time. I’ve seen them elsewhere, providing the entertainment at a corporate Christmas party, on what, it has to be said, was a much larger stage. On that occasion, everybody was up and dancing, including me! This is a very polished band, and a great finale to the day. I love a band with a horn section, just pinning everything down, and pinning back your lug’oles. We were sitting right the front, so didn’t really need the PA to get the full force of the sax, trumpet and trombone. There are LOTS of YouTube clips of this band, some better than others, and they’ve been recording for a few years now, so it’d be easy to find out what they sound like. They really are a good old fashioned jumping, bopping, funkin’ R&B band. I thought at one point they were going to go into a Average White Band number, so you can see why they were a perfect fit to support AWB on tour this year.

Denise's first standard-distance Triathlon

Picture of my stopwatch, showing Denise's finishing time for her first ever standard-distance triathlon - all of the others so far have been Sprint Distance. In the Standard, the swim is 1500 M, the cycle is 40 km, and the run is 10 km: so each distance is twice what she's used to doing!

At the end, she didn't seem, to me, to be much more shattered than after her normal sprint events; and her time was within what she'd said beforehand that she'd be satisfied with.

I'm hugely proud of te way she stepped up to the greater distances; and she was justifiably pleased with herself and looking forward to the next one.

Golf again

It was a beautiful day on Friday, and I was fortunate enough to be out on the golf course with Shelagh from next door. No need for jackets, or even jumpers. Shelagh gave me some good tips, and I managed to complete 10 holes before needing to head back to the clubhouse. As usual I tracked myself with a GPS app I've got on my phone: I walked just over four miles over the hills and dips. I even hit a few decent shots. All very satisfactory!

Govt Report into Prosthetics Services in UK

Contributors to the UK Limb Loss Information Centre Forum have been asked to contribute to the government's investigation into how good (or otherwise) prosthetics services are in the UK, and as one of these, I've been asked to take part. We are writing up our experiences and sending them, via one of our co-contributors, to David Bickers, chairman of the Douglas Bader Foundation, who will be compiling them to send to the review team.

David Cameron has given a commitment that military personnel returning with injuries will get a "first class service" for rehabilitation. Servicemen and servicewomen returning from the warzones with amputations currently get this first class service from Headley Court Militery Hospital near Epsom, or at the Royal Centre for Defence Medicine at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham; and because this is what we (and the MPs) always see on the telly, it has been assumed that this is the level of service they will get when they return to civvy street. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and it is because concerns have been voiced about this that Dr Andrew Murrison MP has been asked to carry out a review, to find out what level of service will be available to ex-service personnel when they have to rely on the civilian system.

He's going to get a shock. As usual, it's a postcode lottery, a.k.a., "services commensurate with the needs of the local community". In other words, commensurate with the amount of money the local Health Service Trusts are prepared to spend. In some areas amputees are not offered any prosthetic service at all, but have to live in a wheelchair and on crutches, with few or no adaptations in their homes - they're basically sent home and told to get on with it. One guy on the forum doesn't even have a wheelchair to go home in! He's going to have to wait until he gets his first appointment at his limb-fitting centre.

I know from reading the LLIC Forum, that I was very lucky with the service I received from the Astley Ainslie hospital, which is second to none in the civilian service. I had very few bad things to say, so couldn't really support the thesis that services are really bad; but my contribution will serve to point out the differences from one region to the next. I didn't have access to the very expensive prosthetics given to the soldier amputees, but within the civilian service, there were very few limits as to what I could have.

Dr Murrison will be reporting to the Prime Minister after Easter, and it's a great opportunity to put forward our case for bringing services in the poorly performing regions up to some kind of reasonable standard. A similar review was carried out for psychiatric care, and improvements were made in that area, so there's no reason why the same shouldn't happen in prosthetics.

It's a shame, though, that nobody thought it was worth reviewing this area of care until we had injured military personnel returning home. This review should have been carried out years ago, for the unfortunate civilians who have had to live in misery, trapped and immobile.

Blue Disabled Parking Badges - Limited to 'Suitable Cars'?!

The following is reproduced from a post of mine on the UK Limb Loss Information Centre Forum

I was very angered by a response on Radio 4's You And Yours programme the other day. They were talking about rationalising the issue and control of blue disabled parking badges, which I obviously wholeheartedly endorse. One caller, however, commented that he had seen a Porsche Boxter at the supermarket, parked in a disabled parking space and displaying a blue badge. Their immediate response that this was 'obviously fraudulent use' of the badge, because 'only a young, able-bodied person could get in and out of such a car'.

Erm ... three things:

1. 'disabled' does not always mean 'old';
2. 'old' does not automatically mean completely helpless, and
3. 'disabled' mean necessarily completely helpless either.

I drive a Mazda MX-5 Roadster. Admittedly, it is easier to get in and out of when the roof is down, but a few minutes struggling getting in and out of it is worth it for the fun I have when I'm on the open road. It's also quite amusing to watch people's faces as I pull up in a disabled slot and plonk my badge on the dashboard. People stop and frown. Then I push my seat right back to give me a bit of extra room, shove the door wide open (which is why I need the extra space in the parking slot) swing my legs out, my right one being very obviously false (I make sure my trouser leg rides up to show the carbon-fibre post), totter round to the the boot and pull out my NHS issue walking stick. As I lock up and walk away, I can sense the confusion in the people around the parking space.

Now, all the acting up is a bit of mischief making, and probably not the most supportive of our cause, but if I can manage with a sports-car, why shouldn't I? Christ knows our lives are enough of a struggle without denying ourselves a little self-indulgence now and then. I feel guilty about the MX-5, but I'm not sure that I should. Are we not entitled? Should we be restricted to sensible MPVs and Nissan Notes? (rant, rant)

Actually, and this is my main argument, I had to use a disabled parking space in the sensible hatch-backed saloon car I had previously. I still had to swing the door fully open to swing my leg past the door frame, so needed the extra space the disabled parking slot affords. It's got nothing to do with the car I'm driving. The need is the same!

I do sometimes feel a little guily using disabled parking slots. If there's only one space left, and someone else is pulling up in a big MPV with a wheelchair in it, I'm a good lad, and figure their need is probably greater so I let them have it, and try to sort myself out elsewhere in the carpark. In such cases, I can get out of my car, and back in again, but it's a real struggle. For a wheelchair user on their own, the disabled parking slot is essential, whereas in my case it's just a tremendous help. Should I be feeling all this guilt?