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Political Pigs at the Westminster Trough and a mad Count up at the castle 

I wanted to add this astute and very funny post from Mart on the Talkswindon.org forum because, in the light of the current scandals surrounding mp’s expenses and a mental berk inhabiting Number 10, he sums up my mood exactly.

Mart says :

I’m still at the:

Assemble the villagers, equip with pitchforks, remember to get the drunken bastards from the Inn, get some blazing torches, may as well bring the bloke whose fit bird, clearly brought up on an organic diet and bearing an eerie resemblance to Ingrid Pitt, was last seen being whisked away in armoured black 4×4 coach and horses.

March up hill to castle where the devilish acts of the undead have been unleashed, within the rules obviously, and where even now, in a basement or tower the mad count (Oh, I was so tempted to mispell that….) is raging at the furious storm breaking around his seat of power.

He stands at the battlements in the pouring rain howling strange words into the storm, ‘Prudence! Decision making! Turbulence! Want biccie! He shares the castle with his brother and they share the cleaning bill cos it is a big gaff. Cowering in the shadows his acolytes are mumbling ‘The rules, it was all within the rules’ He glances down towards the crowd of villagers marching towards his castle and thinks how clean the moat looks, he can actually see the bottom.

A few of his followers are sneaking towards the exits, desperately stripping off their Armani, and drawing on their hairshirts, furiously trying to remember which of the local hamlets they had been entrusted with in the name of the demented count (so very tempting) so many villages to choose from, if only they could remember which one theirs was, perhaps they would try to merge with the mob and pretend they had been with them all of the time, perhaps the mob would not recognise them in the darkness, it had, after all, been some three years since they had walked amongst us.

Anyway, the mob breaks into the castle, chops the heads off of every bastard there and impales them on  pikes on the battlements, the count is bricked up alive, broken out, slapped around a bit, bricked up again, broken out, kicked in the nuts, bricked up again broken out, bitch slapped, bricked up again, brought out, sent surfing CIA style and released. He is later found dead under a tree having apparently cut his wrists with a cotton bud. The village towncryer declares it suicide and nobody ever thinks of him again.

The rats that try to hide within the mob are recognised and banished to the far off pacified land of Iraqistan which they find is not so peaceful after all when you are not all least a continent away, the pacified natives show their gratitude in some very uncomfortable ways, the rats live out the rest of their days with no dangly bits.  They are employed as a recreational facility in the main prison where the God fearing usher the Godless to paradise with extreme fervour and efficiency. In pacified Iraqistan.

Anyway that’s where my head is at the moment, burn, purge and destroy,  I think of it as destroying vermin and include every manjack of them, those who didn’t embezzle, cheat and lie stood idly by and watched as their colleagues did, and did nothing.

That kind of representation I can live without.

S’always Brussels to fall back on, eah?

Brilliantly put…..

What is the connection  between trains, Chitty Bang Bang and Babs? You might well ask that, and I hope it has aroused your curiosity. The connection is that unique link the British love of eccentricity the search to do something different and yet practical, as with all things mechanical, the Brits do it best!

The trains, it is the Romney Hythe and Dymchurch Railway, this is situated in a beautiful spot in the garden of England the shire county of Kent. It actually runs a distance of almost 14 miles, following the picturesque coast and countryside between Hythe and Dungeness, via New Romany. It really is a tranquil and peaceful journey. This is not just another railway; it has a uniqueness about it that carves it out from the rest of monolithic railway history.

The railway, has a “gauge” (track width of 15.5” inches) as opposed to the standard gauge of 4ft 8.5” inches. Do not be mistaken this is not a toy or a model railway it is full blown railway only in miniature. It has everything on a third of the scale of standard railways. (Pictured Below is Black Prince) This is a 4-6-2 German outline Pacific locomotive. Designed by Roland Martens. Built by Krupp of Essen in 1937. One of three she was built for a trade fair in Dusseldorf, before the war then put into storage. In 1976 the railway bought her. She has a South African Railways Chime Whistle, which sounds magnificently different!

The railway celebrated its 80^th birthday on the 16^th July 2007; this railway is a passenger railway and not just a tourist attraction. It has the notoriety of being the smallest public railway in the world and in its early days played very much on that reputation.

Building a set of luxurious Pullman (pictured below) coaches to carry the many famous celebrities who flocked to it. The name is again unique as it combines all its main stops in its name.

At Romney station you will find the engine sheds, erecting shop, carriage sheds (over the main lines), workshops, permanent way depot, etc. Most of the essential day-to-day work required keeping a railway going takes place at here.

During 1928, the name boards were changed to read “Littlestone-on-Sea” in an effort to emphasise the railway’s seaside location. To get to the beach, turn left out of the station and walk a good half a mile.

Hythe station is on the banks of the Royal Military Canal, which runs with the line as the train approaches the terminus. The town is a brisk fifteen-minute walk from the station. The ancient Cinque Port for those interested it has shopping facilities, restaurants, cafes, pubs, banks, supermarkets, antique shops, general shops, swimming baths, gardens, parks and a nice little seafront.

Dymchurch station used to be quite busy at one time; trains used to shuttle here from Hythe with holidaymakers destined for this resort. The town still offers a very seaside experience; sandy beach, fun fair, kiosks, shops, cafes and so on. Martello Towers can be seen from here built as part of the coastal defences aimed to defend against Napoleon and his troops. The church features in the novels of Russel Thorndyke, who created the smuggling vicar Dr Syn, the vicar of Dymchurch: “a pious and broad-minded cleric, with as great a taste for good Virginia tobacco and a glass of” This is still a good read and some may recall Walt Disney made a film featuring Patrick McGooghan as the Doctor. Other, earlier British films were made and one featured George Cole, who also played “Flash Harry” in the early St Trinians films.

There are other “stops” St Mary’s Bay built to serve holiday camps many of which are now gone and replaced with housing estates. The station is not too far from the beach, which is fine for bathing. On the way to the beach you will pass a pub, local shop, take-away and Post Office.

Romney Sands again built to serve a holiday camp with its sea-front houses and, the Romney Sands holiday camp. In land you can see Lydd Airport and some strange concrete devices. These were built by the War Department before the last war these are aeroplane detecting Sound Mirrors. It does work and still does; however radar was invented and quickly made it obsolete.

Dungeness this has the largest open area of shingle in Europe a protected nature reserve this shingle headland is renowned for its plants and wildlife. With fisherman’s cottages, some made from old railway carriages and boats, lighthouses, pub, craft shop, and two Nuclear power stations! Be careful if considering bathing the shingle beach shelves steeply. The tides are strong and erosion here is 6 metres a year some 90,000 cubic metres of shingle are replenished every year. Because of this need for continuous shingle replenishment and increasing sea levels, it is unlikely that the site will be used for any future nuclear power stations once the existing stations are closed. What will happen to the headland then?

Who was it that built this magnificent railway and why is a question I asked myself? The railway had its roots in English whimsical eccentricity as mentioned previously but the story does not end there. A very rich man, who had an interest in Railways and wanted to buy and own the Ravenglass and Eskdale Railway in the Lake District, unfortunately his negotiations failed as the owners declined to sell it. So from adversity and disappointment as is often the case in such quests the RHDR was created.

That man was count Louis Zboroswki who lived at Higham Place a large country house near Canterbury he was the son of a Polish Count and an American mother one of the Astors. He was a wealthy and is recalled as a charming witty eccentric. His close friend Captain J. E. P. Howey shared the same passion for miniature railways and also Zobroswki’s first love motor racing. Howey was a landowner and former army officer also wealthy, but nothing like Zobrowki.

Together they built the railway, but Zobroswki was tragically killed racing at Monza, before its completion and opening. During his short life Zoborswki who was only 29 when he was killed in a Mercedes racing car after hitting a tree. Had designed and built 4 cars in the stables at Higham Place, 3 of which were called Chitty Bang Bang. He used aero engines they were 23 litre, Maybach 6 cylinders, which he had obtained from, scrapped German Gotha Bombers captured in WWI. The cars can only be described as monsters of their day. In fact the engines were squeezed into lengthened Mercedes chassis with totally inadequate exhaust systems. At the time it was said by a motoring correspondent to be “a brutal car put together by a madman”, (must have been the Jeremy Clarkson of his day) Chitty one won its races at a continuous average speed of 100 mph, incredible for its day. Sadly Chitty 1 does not survive being purchased after his death by the Conan-Doyle brothers she was abandoned outside Brooklands and eventually was robbed for spares. Zoboroswki’s pursuit of speed spawned the fourth car, which was called the Higham Special this was the most powerful of all these monsters.

When I was a child I had one of those “special” holidays that many of you may recall fondly from your own childhood sort of a “rose tinted spectacles” holiday packed with “halcyon days” memories of which only childhood bequeaths to us. I was aged 10 and went to South Wales; this for my family was a major expedition, as we were living in Northwest England. I had been to north Wales a lot, as it was a favoured day out from Warrington, but South Wales even the way it was said was intriguing. It is hard to imagine today that the fact that I was off to such far-flung places caused much envy amongst family and friends.

The anticipation that built up inside me over the weeks as the holiday approached turned to excitement. I recall we travelled down overnight in a Ford Corsair towing our little Bluebird caravan. When I awoke in the morning it was like the feelings on Christmas morning. I was at Pendine Sands! The beach was 7 miles long, 7 miles of open golden sands; it looked like a tropical paradise, to me a kid from the industrial northwest, with miles and miles of sand dunes. The water was clear and warm and you could drive your car down onto the beach wow it was just like a scene from the Beach Boys. I was just awed by it the entire expanse and the magnificence of it, especially as I had two weeks of it and it did not rain once, permanent sunshine.

The sands run from Pendine in the West to Laugharne the village where Dylan Thomas the famous Welsh poet lived overlooking such beauty he would sit and write in his garden shed. I had at that point in my childhood taken to reading with a passion, and on this holiday I discovered Thomas; I spent much time reading his works and still do. A plaque on the wall pulled up this holiday of discovery sharply, close to the entrance to the beach. It told of land speed record attempts taking place in the 1920s and 1930s and well my imagination had really been captured at the time in the news such attempts were still taking place in the US. I was definitely convinced that Pendine was something akin to Daytona Beach.

The plaque told a tragic story as well and when you are 10 it really fires up the imagination this romantic tale of a man who had broken the world speed record in 1926 at 171 mph, not bad for a chain driven car. All I knew about 1926 was the family folklore about the 1926 General or Great Strike, which my grandparents and their friends would talk about. But here was something really exciting as I read on The man who had done that was J.G. Parry Thomas he was former chief engineer at Leylands. He had bought the Higham special after Count Zorboswiki’s death and named it Babs. He had raced her at Pendine and taken the world land speed record in April 1926, but had lost it to Malcolm Campbell in February 1927 at Pendine who pushed the speed to 174 mph. Parry Thomas was not to be outdone in March 1927 he set out to rest the title back from Campbell. Babs was looking enchanting that March morning the weather was god and her streamlined white painted bodywork was glinting. With the engine a 27,059 cc Liberty aero engine, warmed up and purring Parry Thomas got in and roared off changing up the gears of the Benz gearbox delivering all that power to a chain final drive.

Some of us me included know what it is like to have the chain snap on your bike and the resulting injuries especially if you are going full pelt and it jams, as you fly over the handlebars, something I would not recommend. Well that is what happened Babs’ chain broke and she turned over several times catching fire, Parry was almost decapitated and the crew trying to get the body out of the burning car had broken his legs too. Parry was buried in Surrey and Parry’s friend buried Babs on the beach in the dunes somewhere.

I thought oh I know I must find her and dig her up so off I set with my bucket and spade. This was ambitious I know but at 10 years old even then I had a passion and enthusiasm for achieving what I wanted. In 1933 Amy Johnson had taken off from Pendine Sands to cross the Atlantic, during the war the beach was viewd as a perfect landing ground and air strip for the enemy to use, so the army had taken it over and it is still a military range. Not a very good place to go looking for things with a bucket and spade. The beach had then and still does warning signs and is closed by the military, being young I went blindly on and started digging, after some 4 hours I noticed a red flag, obviously missed during my enthusiastic search for Babs. The MPs who arrested me for my own safety were really good and actually took me to the spot she was buried at which took the gloss off the dream as it was in amongst some huts and buildings. I walked back to the caravan totally dejected, with feelings of failure and loss. I thought that would be the end of it and my dream would never be realised. It played on my mind after and I dreamed of digging up Babs, when I had spoken to some of the locals they had laughed at my ambition, something I was to get used to as I grew older, this was also scorned by some who said it should stay there the wicked thing that it was. You have to remember that in those days in Wales the pubs did not open on Sunday and you could not get a drink so there was a strong feeling about respect for tradition and beliefs. It did appear odd to me that on a Sunday in Wales you could not park up in a pub car park and be treated to lemonade and a packet of crisps like you could in England.

In 1969, my dream was achieved by a Welshman with a real welsh sounding name Owen Wynn Owen, a lecturer from Banger College. He exhumed Babs and then spent the next 15 years restoring the car back to how she had been that March Morning in 1927. I felt cheated and yet pleased it was quite emotional for me probably because I was now a teenager and hormonal emotions play havoc with you, but Babs had been taken from the ground by another man and it was not me. I think crushed was how I received that news. I felt cheated and the feeling of loss was bigger than ever.

I always look back on that holiday with such emotions and somehow felt a spiritual; connection to a car, or was it a dream or an idea or perhaps just romanticism. In the early 1990s I was a housing manager at a local authority and it had been a pretty stressful time, like only those that have worked there can testify. I decided that I needed to satisfy the loss I had and took my family to Pendine. I told my brother where I was going and he told me that he remembered that holiday fondly and had some great memories of it. A few years ago he had been stressed and had gone there on holiday returning quite mellow as he put it. Perhaps there is a spiritual calmness about the place.

Pendine immediately took my sons over and off they went just like I had, now being a parent I was worried about what they may dig up! We had only been there for about 4 hours and they had been gone for the best part of that. I went looking for them eventually I found them in the dunes and we started walking back as we walked up the slope from the beach I could see a fete was taking place to raise funs for some charity. I could hear a voice on the loudspeaker saying Babs has returned to Pendine I was pulled up short by this and when I looked into the fete a crowd was gathered round something.

I felt this sudden welt up feeling inside me; what Babs here I must have misheard, dragging my lads behind me I walked quickly almost running over to the Fete I pushed through the crowd and there on a trailer was Babs in all the glory I had imagined it. Babs was awesome, magnificent, beautiful, with a long streamlined tail, and looking wonderful. I could not resist touching that streamlined body and its curves, despite being warned off by a do not touch sign I let my hands meander all over that body exploring every curve and dip feeling how smooth the body was as it glinted in the sun. I suddenly felt the feeling of loss leave me in this moment of joy I had achieved it Babs was there we had finally been brought together by a stroke of fete, in the very place my quest had started. For the rest of the holiday I was in a happy daze.

My eldest son, who married his Turkish fiancé in England in April 2006, invited the close family and friends to the away leg in Turkey in June 2007. The trip started quite uneventfully even the M25 to Stanstead was flowing well until you get almost to the M11 junction for Stanstead, then some bright traffic engineer had put traffic lights on the M25, it could only happen in England!

The flight was on Turkish airlines and was on the narrowest bodied jet I had ever been on two rows of 3 seats and an aisle so narrow that the trolley could just fit in between it, for all except the most petite just to pass along it sideways required a level of skill that even Houdini would have found challenging. That said the flight crew were friendly helpful, polite being noticeably nimble and slim, two of them could quite easily pass each other sideways in the aisle! This was rectified on the flight back which had leather seats and was very luxurious, well done Turkish Airlines.

Landing in Istanbul at 9pm local time it was hot being 23c the drive to the hotel was by taxi, it was surprising to see all the taxis were brand new, all Fiats and shiny yellow. I thought oh the stories I had heard about the drivers, use of horn and Mexican standoff tactics must be greatly exaggerated. I was soon proved wrong on at least a dozen occasions on the journey to the hotel. It was like a scene from the film Death Race 2000, I was grateful for the views of the sea and the old city walls of Istanbul from the coastal road which connects the airport with the Europe side of the city, they kept my eyes off the road. I just sat back drinking it all in with the window open and the warm air rushing in to calm me down as we just missed another taxi that had jumped the lights in front of us, not bad a 60 mph! In England the two drivers would have been gesticulating and stopped with ensuing road rage, not in Turkey they just congratulate each other on how skilled they are to pass less than 10mm away from disaster. I thought I had seen it all but when I found we were travelling down the Tram lane in the City and we had to stop I was worried the Tram following might not have the same sort of traction to allow such a short stopping distance. To my utter delight it stopped less than a foot behind us, which is quite normal, as I was soon to find out, but awkward if you want pass between as a pedestrian. Oh and believe me after a couple of days you will become frustrated when you cannot cross the road, due to the density of traffic. The city has 14 million residents and during the week some 25 million people can be in the city. Istanbul dwarfs London, in every way you can imagine.

The Hotel Agan, was in a little street in an area much like our Central Ward Area. Very busy cosmopolitan and handily placed for everything, you would want to see and do in old Istanbul. The staff were extremely helpful and the whole of the place spotlessly clean, not expensive and far better than any B&B in Blackpool I have stayed in and was only half the price. Rooms had air conditioning and breakfast was included, the bathroom is about downstairs cloakroom size from your average 3 bed house in England, still it had shower taps and one could easily sit on the loo, shower and shave at the same time; not that I did mind you.

Istanbul by night I can imagine can be very romantic for those that are inclined that way, for me it is a passion, beautiful and inspiring. Istanbul is a city of two halves the Europe side and the Asian side and Turkey itself has something for everyone. If you want to flop, then go to the south of Turkey, but if you want culture then Istanbul has much of it, though Turkey has more culture and heritage than in my humble opinion Rome. Istanbul is definitely not for those who want to flop or lay about. It is an active holiday and yes there is much fun to be had.

I had achieved a childhood dream to visit St Sophia or Hagia Sophia or as the locals call it AYASOFYA’ (AH-yah so-FEE-ah), or translated into Church of Divine Wisdom. This vaulted dome is a feat of construction hardly bettered anywhere in the world even today and the finest example of Byzantine architecture in the world, well I think so anyway.

Hagia Sophia Pictured from Blue Mosque Note 4 Minarets added after 1453

It was built as a Constantine church by Emperor Justinian a ruthless political leader in his lifetime. Only five years after being built; an earthquake damaged it in December 557 and the dome collapsed in May 558 AD, strange that when you think of the two major Constantine (Christian) religious festivals that would have taken place during that time when it would have been packed with people. This dome is slightly larger than the Capitol building in Washington. Good to see that the Americans can look on in awe too. There are many things to see in the dome and you must visit Hagia Sophia if in Instanbul.

The Topkapi, Hagia Sophia, Cistern and Blue Mosque are only 4 minutes from the hotel and that does not mean it you have to be Roger Bannister to cover that distance. Topkapi Palace was famous long before the film, which I remember from my childhood; when a gang of crooks wanted to steal the famous diamond. In this film they came down from the ceiling on wires, so often copied in later films but without the same effect that the original had upon my childhood games, leading to frequent visits to the local infirmary (please do not try this at home) I recall as a young lad under 10 climbing into the rafters of a partly constructed house hanging upside down on a rope and yes you have guessed it the rope slipped and I crashed headfirst into the floor joists hitting my face full square on one of them. My mother is still embarrassed by the school photos to this day; it still makes me laugh even now. My personal opinion is obviously based upon halcyon days looking very much through rose tinted spectacles but when we were kids there was not the health and safety trepidation that appears to hamper children’s play, discovery and fun today.

Topkapi, contains many unique artefacts the Tomb of Alexander (pictured left) and a replica of the Trojan Horse there are many other things, unfortunately I missed this one I spent the time in its gardens, which are extensive and have a vantage point over the Bosphorus.

The Bosphorus, a beautiful deep blue waterway, flowing between the Black sea and the sea of Marmara, remember it is best to swim in one and not the other. The Black sea has sandy beaches and the locals swim there, the Marmara has al the rivers flowing into it the rivers are quite polluted. It separates Istanbul into two continents Europe and Asia it is a former valley that is now flooded and runs for some 20 miles its width varies between 750mts and 3500 mt and its depth anything from 30mts to 120mts. This globally strategic waterway is very busy and it is like watching traffic on the M4 passing by there are ships of all sizes even super tankers and ferries and fishing boats, it is easy to capture at least a dozen ships in any frame when taking a photograph. Again the ferries and fishing boats are driven with the same skill as the taxis. I am surprised that the captains of the big ships do not swallow their hearts as smaller boats cut across them and jostle with them, even when reversing. Great to watch but a bit hairy when you are in one.

The Ferries are very frequent and only cost about 50 pence to travel one way whether that is one stop or 10 stops. They are like buses and travel to a timetable, which is better than you can begin to imagine you can use one ferry to cross the river or just travel up or down one side of the coast as they zig zag from bank to bank. I counted 5 cruise ships tied up along the Asian side of the waterway and there were several armed warships on station as well as the largest fireboat I have ever seen. There were many fishermen, which again was strange as they fish off anything including the bridges drawing up their lines as boats pass underneath between the piers. There is much to see as the shores rise sharply up to 70 mt and give some buildings prominence. Hold your hand out from the boat and stretch out your fingers and it is as if there is a mosque at the end of each one in whatever direction you look to point it. This is really good when they call out for prayers it was like quadraphonic sound and was another unique sound to add to the bustle of Istanbul.

One journey you can make is to use the cable car to travel to the top of one of the daunting riverbanks. The cable car serves two purposes it takes you over the burial ground (pictured right) and up to the top of this imposing feature. Once at the top you can look out across Istanbul and see the Europe and Asian sides it is worth doing even if the surroundings are somewhat macabre, though one has to admit there is even a serenity and beauty here. It is the first time I have ever sat down and drunk coffee alfresco next to gravestones, but that is the beauty of Istanbul it is secular, diverse, and inclusive.

Getting around this part of Turkey is very easy as well as hiring a car public transport is plentiful whether it is tram, train, metro, ferry, taxi, or dolmus. Tokens for the public transport is available at kiosks near each stop, and only cost about 50 regardless of the journey these can also be obtained from the many entrepreneurs that scratch a street living in this great metropolis. These people of all ages will sell you a token but there will be a handling charge of about 10-15p on it but hey a Kid’s got to make a living! Don’t get me wrong these are not street urchins they are people as I have said from all ages who make a living from the streets. selling services, they have trolleys and sack trucks and act as porters for local businesses and tourists transporting loads or suitcases. The streets are cobbled and steep so it is worth a quid to pay them to move it from the taxi or bus through the streets, which though are in some places pedestrianised. Well Turkish style that is you will still get the odd vehicle moving about in them. All the street entrepreneurs shout out hawking their services some singing and it all adds to the street atmosphere that is old Istanbul, they sell water and collect all the paper, bottles, cardboard etc for recycling. They have large bags like the ones we have sand and gravel delivered in the ones that hold a tonne! They spend the day filling them up and then at night cart them off to collect the few pound for the waste. It is really efficient the streets are spotless and the city council and residents hose them down regularly. Though this may be curtailed as there was a drought on and they had not had the winter rains that usually come.

Constantine when he had laid out Constantinople later Istanbul had laid on incredible water supplies as he stated a city could only be a plentiful as its water supply. Many of the aqua ducts and drains laid down in the 6^th and 7^th century is still in use today, again dwarfing the aqua ducts in ancient Rome. Constantine went one better at the Cistern, which is betwixt the Hagia Sophia

and the Blue Mosque was a small valley about the size of three football fields, he built a reservoir there and roofed it in then built on top of it; what an engineer!

The Cistern, (pictured left) is far from boring and it welcomed when you want to get out of the heat of the day, cool and refreshing. No longer used to provide drinking water, you can walk through it and around it on raised platforms. In the water are some carp and they are no exaggeration massive, you have to see them to appreciate just how big they are. The water is pure and clear and I am told quite drinkable.

Again there are several different pillars holding up the vaulted ceiling and one of the pillars had eyes carved onto it there are also two large sculpting of Medusa famous for her head of coiled vipers and that she could turn you to stone if you glanced upon her. It is said she was a mortal who fell in love with the god Perseus, and a jealous goddess turned her into the mythical Medusa. There have been given many reasons as to why the heads are there one head is on its side and the other upside down, both have pillars resting on them. As I have said Constantine was an engineer, a sort of municipal engineer who built the city and I think he just used whatever was at hand to keep within budget so it is probable went of to the local reclamation yard, just like we do today, as they say when in Rome.

The walls also show signs of recycling stone not only by the original builder of Constantinople, Emperor Constantine, who became a Saint but also by Justinian who was far from saintly reinforced them after an earthquake and built two more walls parallel to the original wall. The walls are some 14 miles long and surround old Istanbul, just like in any other modern city, building outside the walls stretches beyond them for miles. The walls resisted many attempts to breech them for almost a thousand years until technology over took them in the 15^th century 1453 when Constantinople fell to Sultan Mehmet, who had built a cannon (siege gun) specifically to smash the walls of the city. The cannon was reported to be some 27ft long and fired a cannon ball a mile. However the bombardment stated on 6^th April and on 6^th May it still had not breeched the walls though much damage had been done to Christian Gate. However on the 24^th of May there was a thunderstorm the like never seen before the streets flooded and people were swept away along with a hail storm that you could hardly stand against it. This was seen as a bad omen by defenders and the city soon fell. On the 29^th May Sultan Mehmet rode triumphantly into Constantinople and the rest as they say is history.

The walls were built to be earthquake resistant and that is why they have courses of tiles in them to allow movement and to stop cracks in the stonework. In many places buildings on top of and in the walls has taken place over the centuries and at present a modern luxury hotel is being built on top of an area that was fortified.The picture (left) shows houses built on there. This is about 20 mts high from where the picture was taken. In between the walls Justinian had dug a ditch, which was filled with water, this is now where the railway line runs. Again engineers taking advantage of a cutting and level plane ideal for a railway to use. The railway terminus in Istanbul, is where the Orient Express ends it journey.

It was from this station (picture below left) that we embarked on a train to Corlu (Chorla) for the wedding.

The train journey took 3 hours and cost about £3.00 one way. It was about 45 miles and the train stopped at every station en route and it is a great way to see Turkey. Some stations are just concrete blocks in between the track, be aware that the platforms are low and you have to climb up into the train if your cases are heavy then this is a feat any weightlifter would be proud of, fortunately my eldest son lifts weights to keep in trim so it was no problem. I always travel light so was able to get around the train corridors with ease and lift the cases up into the storage area which again is at full height. Which is placed above the door high in the roof of the carriage. The train journey though long was interesting as you meet the locals and see the life of rural “Europe Turkey” as young a local passenger told me, in very good English.

I recall passing over rivers and streams all black and foul smelling emptying out into the sea, the pollution was caused by sewage and factories, but before anyone condemns Turkey for this. I recall my own childhood in the industrial North West of England and the rivers were all like this in fact as kids we could smell the Mersey on a breezy hot summers day from at least 2 miles away! In fact a local company made cellophane and you could always tell what colour they were producing by the colour of the brook, they discharged their water in. You could also taste the sulphuric acid and acetates in the air and if you left nylon clothing on the washing lines it always had small holes in it burned in by acids etc. However I never saw anything this bad in Turkey. In my hometown the Mersey would be covered from bank to bank and for several miles in a dirty brown froth to about 2 ft thick which used to blow off the river like giant soapsuds, all from the manufactures of soap and fertilisers that discharged into the river. In my parents hometown the canal near the glass works had water discharged into it by a water sprinkler system, known locally as the “hotties,” this was fascinating as a child as the canal at this point never froze over in the winter of 1963 and you could swim in it. A local pet shop went bust and the owner put all his tropical fish stock into the canal at this point including puffa fish. It was fished heavily but the tropical fish always flourished and survived.

On arriving in Chorlu the station was in the middle of an Industrial estate. And the road to it was nothing more than a track, yet it was a busy rail link. I think that the railways in Turkey are just another means of transport that works well and therefore does not have the sanctification we seem to place on them here in England. I can only praise the Turks for their integrated transport, makes us here look inept, which I am sure we are not.

Chorlu, is an expanding town and is about the size of Swindon and in fact is facing the same pressures we are here, there is much in common, as they are expanding their housing stock at a rate even we cannot match 3500 units a year or so I was told. We stayed in a new hotel in a Turkish equivalent of Abby Meads. I felt at home at one point listening to English property developers out there doing deals, it sounded no different in one conversation I overheard not intentionally I may add; the geezer with the London accent was talking of 20 which I soon found out he meant 20 million Euros!

All the apartments are built to resist earthquakes, which happen in Turkey. I found this comforting being on the top floor of our very narrow but very high hotel. This was real comfort and again not even as expensive as a travel lodge or similar hotel over here. I went along to the mall and you have to pass security to get in it like in an airport. It seems like everyone in authority is armed here security guards police municipal officers and the army etc.

It is soon becomes normal in Turkey to pass by soldiers in camouflage with assault rifles and police with machine pistols, none of them wearing any body armour or protective helmets.

The reason for the visit to Turkey was the wedding, this is, as you would imagine different, but not in many ways to a traditional wedding in England. The colour red is more predominant and in Turkey red and white are held in reverence by some, could it be to do with St George?

The night before the wedding it is party time the men and women are separated and the men eat and drink and the women dance and sing. The bride dresses in a costume, which is maroon and gold and resembles something from the Arabian nights. The men eat and it is good to sit down and communicate through the bottom of a glass it appears drinking and laughing are an international language all of their own! In Turkey beware of a drink called YAKI, drunk with 50% water and you have to eat fruit when you are drinking it, fail to follow the rules and they say about Yaki one, two three, floor!!! That is where you end up so be warned when dabbling in local customs. It is easy to drink it straight down, but it returns with a vengeance. The wedding reception was a big family get together with about 500 people seated around the swimming pool of a hotel. You do not eat at it or drink, anything except soft drinks, it is seen as bad form to go off to the bar. We were allowed because we were guest visiting and the customs are different and because of that some of the Bride’s uncles had to join me they did not want me think their behaviour was disrespectful towards me!! I am sure that they were most sincere in their reason for having to drink the 10-year-old malt I bought them. Everyone else was dancing and singing and the Disco was different it was a DJ who was good but he also played a synthesiser and was very good and professional. The dancing was nothing like I had been involved in before I felt like Zorba!! The Bride’s uncle was also a politician and I met the leader of the local council and head of housing and head of transport as well as schooling. Local politics was very interesting they have exactly the same challenges we have here.

The Bride and Groom wear white silk ribbons around their necks and guests and family do not bring presents they pin money onto the ribbons and it is traditional to give gold, the Bride receives gold bracelets all tied with a red ribbon and placed onto her left wrist and the groom receives gold coins which he puts in his pocket, but the giver pins a little gold token to the white ribbon again with a red ribbon attached. (Pictured right) the Bride and Groom at the beginning of the gift ceremony; they soon had a queue stretching halfway around the swimming pool. Afterwards there were many bracelets, notes and coins and everyone is photographed with the Bride and Groom. To touch or see a Bride on her wedding day is considered good luck of the best sort and when we left the house to come to the reception the children ran after the Bride and Grooms car and I mean children hordes of them and as we went through the town they would run into the road and touch it, one or two of them left my heart firmly in my mouth as they darted across busy main roads and junctions.

At one point during the dancing guests shower money onto the Bride and Groom and to pick it up is also a lucky omen. They also do a Gypsy dance as they call it, which is a mime, and again money is showered over the dancers and I do not mean coins it is all notes.

It was also very easy to get around Corlu, as they have buses and Taxis but the Dolmus service, was very good this is a sort of large minibus that takes as many passengers as it can squeeze on and it does a circular route round and through the town. It costs about 50p again no matter how many stops you are travelling. They also have the same service in Istanbul, and is very useful. We said goodbye to Corlu and departed from near the war memorial to the WW1 dead. This was very impressive and paid to tribute to the dead, it was different to war memorials I have seen across the rest of Europe. The First World War actually ended somewhere to the north of Corlu, and the memorial remembers Gallipoli, as well as other campaigns. At Gallipoli Britain and the ANZACS, lost many men, during this short and fierce bloody campaign. It was so strange as the Lancashire Fusiliers sustained high causalities on the landings on the first day and I recall as a child speaking to several veterans of the campaign. Today it is comforting to think that “Mehmet and Tommy” are allies in NATO and no longer enemies. ANZAC day at Gallipoli, is remembered and honoured by both Turkey and the Commonwealth in April each year.

The trip back to Istanbul was again notable as the coach sped along a newly constructed motorway, skirting the coast. On arriving in Isatnbul, the coach passed several multi storey carparks, nothing unusual in that you may add, well these ones had 44 tonne articulated lorries parked in them up to about 7 or 8 floors. The coach entered a similar one built for coaches and we transferred to a Dolbus, and then onto the Tram.

Back at the hotel I took some time out to relax and enjoy a hubble bubble pipe. Before you think what is he smoking and report me to the standards board, “it was peach flavoured tobacco honest guv.” That is all I am saying on the matter. Though I did smoke a twin pipe, which is an art in itself. This proved to be enjoyable and a very relaxing experience!!!!!!

My memories of Turkey are that it is a peace loving country at ease with itself, it is secular and has that written into its constitution, the people are friendly and there was an honesty and respect that I have not really seen in this country since the late 1960s. I do hope that it is successful in its bid to join the E.C. sooner rather than later. It has a diverse culture and a wealth of history and artefacts as well as breathtaking scenery. It is not very expensive and good bargains can be had. The food is superb and public transport very good.

My recommendations go see it, and experience all it has to offer.

In July 2006, Cllr Nick Martin, Robert Buckland and myself decided to visit the Somme to pay our respects to the war dead, who on 1^st July 1916, some 90 years earlier had died in their thousands and to which a memorial was erected to their memory. Upon which there are over 73,412 names of soldiers who have no known grave. The memorial was designed by Sir Edwin Lutyens and it is an imposing monument visible from a far off distance, surrounded by trees and since last year has a new inconspicuous visitor centre, which gives visitors a comprehensive guide to the history of the battles and the building of the monument.

There are Portland tablets, which tile the piers of the monument and are covered with the names of those that died. A t the bottom of the steps there are a couple of small wall safe type cupboards that contain registers that will help you locate any name you may be seeking. I found this invaluable in trying to search through the 73, 412 names that are inscribed upon it.

The Somme is not one battle that happened on the 1^st July 1916, that was the first day of the first battle, in fact fighting continued until the end of November 1916. The Somme offensive was planned at a conference between the French Marshal Jofre and the British Commander in Chief, General Sir Douglas Haig held at Compiégne in late 1915. The Offensive was planned to be a hammer blow that would throw the enemy back off French soil. The French were already suffering 400,000 casualties at Verdun, where they were involved in a war of attrition. The French had strong memories of the Prussian victory over them in 1870 and the humiliating peace terms, including loss of land to the Prussians. Jofre, wanted the pressure to be taken of his troops and insisted that Haig assist him by mounting an offensive on the Somme, Haig protested that his armies were not yet ready, but had no choice except to assist the French.

This decision was to herald in a dark day in the history of British conflict without a doubt the darkest of all days. Planning started in the new year of 1916, and any offensive was to be proceeded by an artillery barrage the like of which had never been seen before. The barrage was to continue 24hour a day, and started on 24^th June 1916, this would intensify into fever pitch at 6am on 1^st July. There would also be mines, tunnels filled with explosives, and detonated the tunnels were dug by “pioneers” under enemy lines, prior to the battle commencing. My Grandfather a miner, from the Lancashire coal fields volunteered into the South West Lancashire Prince of Wales Volunteers Regiment, at the outbreak of war, as Lord Derby had called for Miners and other workmen to come forward and carry out important work for the army in France, he offered a bounty to men who joined. These men were known as “pioneers” and the South West Lancs. Was to become the forerunner of the Labour Corps that carried out much of the logistical work behind the trench lines in the first war, sometimes referred to as the “Great War”. The battle was along a wide front and included the French and regiments from England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales, as well as overseas regiments from South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, India, Canada, and Newfoundland to mention a few.

Lancashire regiments played a distinctive role on 1^st July 1916 and the tablets give testament to this role, one side of one of the piers at Thiepval, has names on it from the Liverpool Regiment, as well as other piers covered with the names of Lancashire Fusiliers and East Lancs, to mention just a few. I can still recall how I taken I was by the awesome sight of row upon row of Lancashire family names I was very familiar with as a child, being emblazoned upon these pure white tablets. In the picture I am pointing to relatives of mine that had perished, during that offensive. It really dwarfs you and brings home the level of sacrifice made; it is daunting to think that the fields in France still hold the DNA from so many families from these shores.

Moving on from Thiepval, made me think more and more about why our own remembrance service at the cenotaph in Swindon is so important and why we must continue to honour the memory of our war dead.

On Hawthorn Ridge there is a deep crater called appropriately Hawthorn crater, this ridge had an enemy defensive position on top of it known as a redoubt. On the morning of 1^st July 1916, the enemy would have a very good view of our lines. It gave them a commanding field of fire across the British lines and any advancing troops. The picture right clearly shows the British No1 Cemetery with its cross of sacrifice and this “jumping off Point” to mount an attack from is in clear view from the German defensive position at Hawthorne Crater which I am standing on. The British Pioneers tunnelled under the ridge and mined this defensive redoubt and at 7.20am on the 1^ST July the Mine was exploded, leaving behind a substantial crater. It is hard to envisage that at that moment many men and material was for want of a more suitable word, atomised or evaporated. This is really brought home to you as you walk around the crater, which is thick with undergrowth and hawthorn bushes. The fields ringing the crater had many flints lying on the surface and lumps of chalk, and sadly, there were some bone fragment, whether animal or other I was unable to tell. I shuddered as I walked away down the hill, looking towards the British No1 Cemetery, with it’s cross of sacrifice now clearly standing out radiating in the bright sunshine like a beacon. I did not look back towards the crater, wanting to clear the thoughts of death and carnage from my mind; emotionally it was almost akin to walking away from a deathbed. As I approached the cemetery there was a sunburst from behind the clouds, which had gathered over Hawthorn redoubt, and its rays illuminated the whiteness of the head stones. I then noticed that the silence was broken by a rustling sound as a gentle breeze got up and the wheat crop in the field began to sway from side to side under its influence. This serenity, was only broken by birds singing, I think one was a nightingale, and another a lark, I remained there taking it all in.

At that point, Robert and Nick, pulled me out of this tranquillity and we went off to a small tearoom, just a short walk from Hawthorn crater. This was also not to far away less than ¾ of a mile from Newfoundland Memorial Park and the tearoom was in farm buildings, which had been used as a dressing station during the battle. Ocean Villas tearooms is on the poppy trail, situated in the hamlet of “Auchonvillers”, this is how it got its name as “Tommies,” slang for British soldiers pronounced it, “Ocean Villas”. The owner Avril Williams, has a luxury, rarely found on the Somme; clean public toilets, as Nick can testify.

There is a cellar at the farm, which was used extensively during the battle as a dressing station for wounded. The farmhouse itself and all its buildings had been reduced to rubble by artillery, however you will be pleased to know that the place is not shelled today. Meals and teas are very reasonably priced and is good English cooking. Volunteers recently dug out some of the old trenches and made many discoveries. Some of which are on display there, you can enter the trench and also handle some of the finds. Be aware that, there are some associated dangers, as the metal is rusty and has sharp edges. Otherwise it is a great opportunity to get a feel and some sensory perception of military paraphernalia, not usually available in a glass fronted cabinet or the static display of a military museum.

It was then onto Newfoundland Memorial Park, this is such a beautiful setting.

It would be as nice a venue as any park would be for playing and picnicking, if it were not here to remember the terrible events of the morning of July 1^st 1916. On this day at 8.40am: Orders were received ordering the Newfoundlanders to advance and clear up German 1st Line trenches. Newfoundlanders were to attack from their positions in St John’s Road. The Newfoundland Regiment advanced to the assault independently as soon as they were ready. At 8.45 am they came under heavy artillery and machine gun fire which practically wiped them out before they had gone many yards from their frontline. It is actually hard to believe the tight area that this battle took place in, with trench lines only some 70 yards apart in places, yet in that short distance they were decimated. The ground still bears the shell holes from the bombardment that fell on it. The picture on the right shows the clump of trees in the foreground that they made for hoping for some cover from the withering machine gun fire, it is known as “hellfire corner” and to the left of the green trees is a lone petrified tree that remains from the day and bears scars from the battle. Poppies and crosses are regularly placed around this tree. This picture is taken from the base of the Baying Caribou memorial statue. Which is the position from where the Newfoundlanders started. The picture below left shows the trench line up to the front line and to the left is a clump of trees just past this clump is another memorial to the 51^st Highland division and 63^rd Royal Naval Detachment who died on 13^th November 1916 finally taking the enemies trench lines and defensive positions. The memorial to the dead is cairn shaped being round as the men some 40 of them are buried in a large shell hole.

When you walk beyond this it is surprising to see the trench and dugouts the Germans constructed, digging into the sides of a naturally forming Y ravine. Much of this area is taped off, as there are lots of live and unexploded munitions in the area. There is also a large mine still in situ, though made safe some years ago there is still over 1 tonne of explosives lying there, the man who made it safe was tragically killed on another similar exercise when the roof of a tunnel caved in on him.

From here it was to Mametz woods, where the welsh troops having fought fiercely for 3 days were finally successful on July 11th 1916, when they made a “gutsy” bayonet charge up and into to the crest of the woods, which had been virtually deforested by shellfire. The enemy lay in wait in heavily fortified shell holes and trench lines. The welsh reserves had been quickly brought up to the front and only had a few hours notice, having slept out in open fields the night before looking across to their objective the 200 acre woods, knowing that the attempts the over the previous three days had been beaten back mercilessly. The monument pictured is the Red Dragon of the 38^th Welsh Division; it has barbed wire in its claws and looks quite stunning on a sunny day from any angle. The Welshmen that day charged with bayonets fixed, and ran with such ferocity, that the enemy was quickly and finally overwhelmed and the objective secured. The enemy was so shocked by this turn of events that they did not have the fight left in them to retake the woods, and at 8pm withdrew under the cover of darkness.

On walking around the woods many of the dugouts and shell craters were still visible. There was so much metal from shell fragments lying around that the slugs appeared to be orange from iron ferrite! It was a really eerie place and it was beginning to get dark. Walking back across the fields it was easy to see lying on the ploughed surface, large chunks of shrapnel and rifling belts put around the body of shells to assist with their travel inside the gun barrels. One piece of shrapnel I found must have quite easily have weighed over a kilo, I was not looking for souvenirs, so left it there on the ground, I did bring home one small piece of shrapnel about an inch in length and piece of aluminium from what I believe is a German mess tin or canteen.

Finally no visit would be complete without a visit to Albert this small town, centred upon two small squares. One square is in front of the Town Hall and the other is in front of the Basilica of Notre Dame de Brebieres. On top of it is a tower on it stands the “Golden Virgin,” offering up the figure of the Infant Christ for the approval of his father in heaven. in 1915, the first German shells struck the basilica, damaging the base of the statue and causing it to lean slightly forward. This has been an iconic image from the Great War and in 1916, it precariously hung over the square, many accounts that were written at the time speak volumes about it. Further shelling resulted in the leaning becoming very severe, so bad in fact that it was hanging well below the horizontal, with the child touching the side of the ruined tower.

Myths abounded about the Golden Virgin. Both British and French soldiers said that the war would end with the allies losing if the Virgin fell. Superstition in wartime is a powerful ally so British engineers fastened the statue into place with wire cable. The Germans could see the Leaning Virgin and they, too, had created their own myth - not that the war would end when the Virgin fell, but that the side, which knocked it down, would lose. Their gunners avoided shooting at the tower, however, when the Germans took Albert the Virgin and Child were still looming over the Square. They used it as an observation post. The British artillery reduced the Basilica to rubble and the Virgin and Child smashed down onto the cobbles of the square below, and were never recovered. A copy was used in the reconstruction, after the war, but it is beautiful don’t you agree?

On Monday 11^th June 2007, Swindon Steam Museum, said farewell to Glorious a class 50 diesel. There was no sadness as this grand old lady left Swindon, bound for Birmingham for a overhaul and then onto East London, by road. Glorious is now on permanent loan to the Royal Docks Heritage Railway and Rail School.

Glorious, there is a lot that can be said about her, I do apologise to anyone who may be offended by the persistent gender reference, as engines have always been referred to in this way, except when they go wrong and then more often male expletive descriptions apply!

Glorious was built in the period 1967/68 for those that can recall the swinging sixties was in full swing and gimmicky, British Rail, must have been caught up in this as in 1966 it wanted to have 50 powerful locomotives capable of 100mph that would work on the West Coast line Euston to Glasgow express, which had by then been electrified as far as Crewe. Thus the Class 50 was born. This 2700hp engine would pull trains on from Crewe to Glasgow as well as handle trains between Glasgow and Edinburgh. The class 50s were never meant to be anything more than a stop gap until electrification was completed. This is probably why these engines were the dealt with under a leasing scheme. English Electric (EE) built the class at Vulcan Foundry Newton-le-willows and my father’s youngest brother worked there on their construction. Ten Class 50s were also built for the Portuguese railways and one or two are still believed to be running in service at present.

My father, (pictured) an engine driver was assigned to do the commissioning runs of the Class 50S and to pass out drivers on them. He would be collected from the engine shed at Dallam, and then be taken to the Vulcan Foundry Works by car, there he would be given refreshments in the directors canteen before taking the engines out for a run up to Penrith, along with EE engineers in pure white boiler suits to see how they performed. Occasionally one would breakdown and they would spend time in Tebay engine sheds whilst parts were brought out and repairs made, yes much overtime was earned! My father was pleased to be back in the cab of Glorious before she was taken from Steam, to Birmingham for an overhaul.

The class 50 was quite revolutionary for its time having incorporated in its design a number of electronic control systems designed to enhance the locomotives performance. On entering service my father would drive them on the West Coast and can recall them being “ double headed” which means two were coupled together to pull the trains up Shap summit and would easily maintain 100mph. Bearing in mind when he would drive steam trains up Shap, that they travelled so slowly the footplate men called it “spoke for spoke” this was, because when you looked out of the cab at the wheels you could see each spoke in the wheel as it went round and round. He affectionately remembers the Class 50 for teaching him how to “tap dance” the class had powerful brakes and an electronic system “deadman” failsafe device that meant every so many seconds there would be a bleep which you had to tap with your foot otherwise the brake would come on this had to be done just right and if there was a fault, they would report it as “they had been tap dancing, all the way home” It was he recalled a pleasure to have such powerful brakes, as when they came down Shap towards Carnforth you could apply the brake if needed something that could rarely be done with steam engines, he recalls there was many a time, when the old steam engines would jump and buck all over the track and jump up off it for a split second as they hurtled down hill at 80 to 90 mph. In the steam days some footplatemen had been reluctant to “sign this road” (drive it) because of this very “interesting phenomenon,” passengers being oblivious to it as they sat comfortably behind it.

In 1972, the electrification of the West Coast was completed and the engines were purchased by B.R. and transferred to the Western Region, to run on the Paddington Bristol and southwest routes. They also replaced the last of the type 52-diesel hydraulics. At this point the class had the number 50 added to precede the original D number so Glorious became 50033 previously being D433.

The Western Regions policy of naming locomotives after warships resulted in all members of the class taking the name of Royal Navy vessels from WWII. The first to be named was 50 035 which became HMS Ark Royal on 10th January 1978. This was in recognition of the scrapping of HMS Ark Royal, Britain’s last fixed wing aircraft carrier, and the star of the BBC documentary “Sailor”, which some of you may recall Rod Stewart had his song “sailing” associated with. The rest of the class was subsequently named in similar fashion. 50033 became known as Glorious, she was named on 26th June 1978. Incidentally a set of nameplates all cast at the Swindon Rail Works, sold from a scrapped class 50 fetch between £10 and 20,000 at auction. The entire class was refurbished in the early 80s and withdrawn from service in the early 1990s, again my father took two of them on their last run from Old Oak Common Diesel Depot to a Plymouth scrapyard. Sadly many of the class have been scrapped, but several are preserved and some are in private hands.

That is why Glorious is fortunate in that she will be going back into a working life at the Royal Docks Heritage Railway, which is bringing exciting regeneration opportunities to London’s Eastside. Network Rail’s line from Stratford to North Woolwich closed in December 2006 to enable improvements and extensions to the Docklands Light Railway, in time for the 2012 Olympics. This will also, include the London Borough of Newham, which is outsourcing the operation of its Old Station Museum at North Woolwich from January 2007. In partnership with these organisations are Railschool, which will provide an education portal between the industry and the community it serves. In short it will provide an education and skills programme to people who want a career on the railways. It is strange to imagine that in London with all its integrated transport policies that a line closed in December 2006, and that has enabled a much needed opportunity for a community based skills programme, as well as a heritage railway.

This living museum will provide work opportunities for future generations of railwaymen and women from all backgrounds and ethnicities and I congratulate the Mayor of London and the London Borough of Newham for enabling this to happen. I am proud that Swindon will also be playing its part in this exciting initiative. Good luck Glorious and here is to another 40 years of glory.

I’ve taken something of an interest in comparing what the Talkswindon forum does against other, more ‘organised’ citizen participation/engagement sites…..and I have to say that, on balance, I’m glad I didn’t know about the other sites before lighting the blue touch-paper under Talkswindon.

I look at Talkswindon, the Special Educational Needs Network Forum and the Mysmash forum and I’m happy that things are very much as they should be. People being encouraged and enabled to communicate with each other in a manner which they find convenient, comfortable, hassle free, interesting and sometimes very entertaining.

It pained me then, to learn that others see ‘e-participation’, ‘e-democracy’ and ‘citizen engagement’ as things to be encased within rigid sets of rules, to be ruthlessly moderated and where each participant is held completely accountable for their postings and on-line actions and where the participant has their identity checked and verified before they are ‘allowed’ to contribute. This might be fine at the very top end of e-dem, where you might be casting your e-vote in a general election, but is it desireable in grass roots e-dem at the neighbourhood and town level?.

I’m worried. Part of me wonders whether the masons/rotary/bridge/bowls club pipe-smoking, rule book clutching and double-breasted blazer wearing brigade is taking over Britains fledgling e-dem community by stealth, maybe even with a bit of nudging from central government.

I thought I’d blog one of my recent posts on the U.K & Ireland E-Democracy Exchange. This was in response to a thread concerning the writing of Governance Statements For E-Participation.

My response was made in a new thread on the UK & Ireland E-Dem exchange, and was called Anonymity, Accountability and Identity

——————————————————————————–

Firstly, and for the record, I want to make it very clear that I’m not what you’d describe as academically, commercially or politically motivated….. Im just interested in getting others re-involved with stuff.

Ill start with something xxxxx said:

“Everyone who contributes on our site, whether citizen journalist, councillor, individual, police officer, campaigner, does so in their own name and everyone knows who that is. I think it fair that if accountability is expected, everyone should be prepared to be accountable for what they put in the public domain and why”.

I’d love to agree with xxxxx, but I don’t. Establishing someones identity doesn’t guarantee either honesty or accountability from that person, and one needs look no further than the last 9 years of government for a multitude of cogent examples.

Insisting that public servants only contribute using their real names only guarantees that their input will be politically correct and standards board friendly. Personally speaking I prefer to hear genuinely held opinions and belief, not sanitised-for-the-public-domain statements.

Provided they aren’t ‘up to no good’, any person has the lawful right to use a pseudonym….and forum operators have the equally lawful right to allow, or disallow their use, although in practice I think effectively enforcing a no-pseudonyms policy is difficult and will inhibit the very thing that we want to encourage, i.e the engagement of people with democracy, local government and each other.

I like to imagine that there are several stages of e-dem spread out along a horizontal straight line. At the left hand end are forums like Talkswindon, (light on rules), in the middle we find the more formalised organisations like Oncom, and at the right hand end we have, (or will have), full-on and identity checked e-voting systems.

As we move from left to right the rules, structure and methodology become more rigid, (by necessity), and the atmosphere more rarified and highbrow, and in my own opinion steadily less interesting to the average punter.

My own feeling is that if we want to encourage the average, (but currently disengaged), punter to become at least slightly interested in becoming involved with high-end e-dem, e.g ‘e-voting’, then they must be tempted to dip their toes in at the other end of the e-dem scale within community forums, especially those which enjoy a working relationship with local councillors.

I’d like to give you the recent example of two, (previously unknown to each other), Talkswindon members who only post under pseudonyms. They used the forum to discuss a particular issue of non-inclusive play area equipment, (childrens), contacted local councillors via the forum, met the councillors in person to inspect the areas in question then went to a council meeting in chamber, asked public questions and subsequently obtained promises of corrective action on the part of the Council and Heritage Lottery fund.

The relevant thread can be found here:
http://www.talkswindon.org/index.php?topic=1652.msg9060#msg9060

This particular case is on-going, but I’d suggest that the instant that these two members made normal contact with the relevant councillors, any issue regarding their use of pseudonyms became completely irrelevant.

I have asked the councillors whether they felt the members use of pseudonyms was an issue, and they said no. In fact, one of the councillors reasoned that using pseudonyms was an entirely intelligent thing for females to do on t’internet, and members use of pseudonyms hadn’t discouraged them from engaging either on the forum or with the members themselves.

On-forum anonymity does not seem to hinder initial, and continued on-line interaction between members and councillors, and the many subsequent face to face meetings have served to lay solid foundations for a forum which now has one foot firmly in both the real world, and its virtual mirror.

I think the desire to know who someone is, and issuing pre-emptive threats of moderation, censorship or deletion of objectionable comment, (in the opinion of moderators), does little to attract new, free thinking and innovative members,
but a whole lot to attract a membership of like-minded people who like, or perhaps even need an overt and rigid framework of control, to be comfortable.

I’m not saying that Talkswindon is necessarily any better than any other forum of its kind, but it is slightly different. Having very few proscribed activities means it is emminently adaptable and will expand and evolve according to its own needs and wont be constrained by an exoskeleton of inflexible rules.

We refuse to prematurely place every new member under suspicion of being potentially naughty and we do not pre-determine the standard by which individual members succeed or fail in their on-line activity, the forum self-moderates and self-educates as it goes.

Another quote from xxxxx:

“We find this works very well in every way on our local community network at
www.oncom.org.uk and is the only real guarantee of achieving credibility,
courtesy and effectiveness. This has always been our policy. Those who aren’t
prepared to stand up and be counted don’t participate, which is their choice”.

I disagree completely with this statement and I’m particularly surprised by the last sentence which I wouldnt find very inviting if I were already nervous of dipping my toes into the world of Oncom, because the choice to participate anonymously has already been removed.

How do we measure credibility and effectiveness?, I measure it by results, in which case Talkswindon, (as small as it is), is already credible and effective.

How important is courtesy?. Local politics resembles a dog-fight at times and courtesy flies out of the window faster than a escaped parrotand then usually returns, shamefaced a little bit later. Rudeness happens, its a fact of life, but reasonable people usually apologise, discuss and carry on with life.

If e-dem is to succeed at an everyday level it needs to be realistic about its aims and expectations, and it also needs to be sympathetic and adaptive to the general nature of the very people it wishes to enagage, then enable them to engage in a manner which is both comfortable, enjoyable and dare I say it….entertaining!.

Posting ends.

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I’m wondering whether the climate of fear, which has been encouraged by central government since September the 11th 2001, has seeped into the national e-consciousness. Is the fear of crime, fear of terrorism, fear of youths, fear of antisocial behaviour, fear of swearing etc, etc and ad infinitum now manifesting itself in some paranoic fear of not knowing who everbody is?.

It seems absurd to me that while members of parliament are busy exempting themselves from the Freedom of Information Act, exempting their children and the children of ‘celebrities’ from entry onto the Childrens Register, e-dem practictioners are busily demanding that citizens who want to have look at grass roots e-democracy must give up their anonymity and privacy in order to participate at even a casual level of involvement.

The e-dem participation picture is black and white for me and very starkly defined. Either e-dem participation projects are open to all, regardless of whether the individual identifies themselves as Geoff Reid or Jumping Jack Flash, or they aren’t…..

….and the ones which aren’t open to all, which pre-moderate content, moderate, censor and delete are, in my opinion, fated to suffer low rates of participation and are ultimately doomed to fail in their primary purpose of encouraging a diverse group of people to participate.

I think the country as a whole has endured 10 years of authoritarian government that has whittled away at personal liberties and democracy wherever it could. When we see that same authoritarian streak running through e-democracy projects which are supposed to ‘empower’ us, is it any surprise when we swerve around them and seek alternatives that are really lead by the citizens themselves?.

I, for one, will not willingly accept a brass ring through my nose….

Where does the Jurassic Coast start and finish? I have asked myself this question many times. I know where it is, in Dorset and I know what the Jurassic bit means.  I know what the Jurassic Period is, and it is not a park! It began some 210 million years give or take a millennia or two and lasted for over 70 million years. Famous for its Dinosaurs and the first birds, it was a period of lush ferns and palm like cycads; its oceans were full of fish and coiled ammonites, that were probably food for great ichthyosaurs and long-necked plesiosaurs, which looked very much like Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster!

Phew, I am pleased I was not around then, which is always a great Hollywood misconception, as Dinosaurs, has been dead for millions of years before man first set foot on the shores of the Jurassic Coast. Apart from Dorset, other great Jurassic deposits can be found in the Rocky Mountains, Central Russia, Southern Germany and the Blue Nile Gorge Ethiopia. To think that Westbay (pictured right) actually ranks in this list is surprising. This was the beach that Reggie Perrin swam off from in that famous series leaving his clothes behind, and where the TV series Harbour Lights was filmed. Chesil Beach,is one of the finest barrier beaches in the world. (Pictured left) Starts here and runs east for some 18 miles with some 10 billion pebbles per mile it ends at Portland. Behind it is a lagoon of saline water known as Fleet Lagoon Both the beach and the lagoon are important areas for wildlife with a number of designations to help protect this important range of habitats. Fleet Lagoon, held a secret for many years it was where Barnes Wallis had tested his Bouncing Bombs, which 617 Squadron lead by Guy Gibson VC attacked the Ruhr dams with in May 1943. A few years ago these bombs where recovered by Royal Marine Engineers, and are now museum displays.Portland an island is best known for its prisons and old forts, being renowned worldwide for its stone and cement product. During the summer there is an open-air market, which it is worth visiting and then nosing around the old forts and gun emplacements nearby. When I visited Gibraltar, it reminded, me of Portland. Between Portland and West bay, is Burton Bradstock, a small cove type beach and again an area of beauty and tranquillity, nearby is Abbottsbury, with its Swannery, all these are fascinating and atmospheric and well worth a visit if you are on the Jurassic Coast.
Looking West from Westbay is Lyme Regis and some people walk there! Using the Cliff Path. The cove on from West bay is Eype, (pictured right) and there is a small car park and quiet beaches, however it is a nice walk from Westbay of less than 2 miles. Beyond the bluff is Lyme bay and Lyme Regis, made infamous as the landing place in 1685, for the start of the Monmouth rebellion, shortly after the death of Charles II. Monmouth took ship for England and landed in Lyme Regis on June 11. His small band of 83 men soon swelled to 3000 finally exceeding 8000 as volunteers flocked to his cause. So many of Monmouth’s followers were poor farmers and peasants that the rising later became known as The Pitchfork Rebellion, though in truth many volunteers were turned away because they lacked adequate arms. King James quashed the rebellion killing 1400 and imprisoning 500, the infamous Judge Jefferies hanged many and transported the rest at “His Bloody Assizes”. Monmouth was executed. Lyme Regis has a harbour (the Cobb), which is a curving breakwater built in the 13th century by Edward I to improve the harbour. Famously known for the sequence in the film The French Lieutenants Woman; of which the abiding image is of the mysterious Sarah Meryl Streep, in a big cloak standing on the Cobb.There are many fossils lying around on the beaches of Lyme bay and stretch from West Bay, westward along the coastal path reaching the highest point along the south coast…Golden Cap, then on towards Charmouth and then onto Lyme Regis itself. You can purchase fossils from shops, market stalls and even individuals at tabletop flea markets and car boot sales. But beware caution has to be used when close to the cliffs as they crumble and are known to slide without warning.If you walk west from Eype and back towards Westbay, you can see remains of the coastal defences built during WWII there are many around but the most interesting one I have found is the Pillbox which is now used as an extension to a bungalow at the crest of the cliff.  (Pictured right)
To the left of this picture North West is the town of Bridport. The harbour below seen in the foreground is West Bay. This was popular with the Victorians and the harbour is a great place to fish from. There are some good pubs, many little cabins and kiosks selling takeaway foods and two restaurants one has many seafood dishes and the other is in a converted railway carriage in the old railway station. There is a golf club and in the summer months the fair is in town for about 8 weeks. There is plenty of caravanning, camping available and even a Youth Hostel in Bridport. Which has a market on Saturdays in the streets and it really is packed, walking is advisable, as it is next to impossible to park with out a blue disabled badge.

In Westbay, buses run regularly and go as far as Bournemouth and Exeter. The river Brit, sluices out into the harbour, during the summer you can hire boats and row along it as far as Bridport. The Melplash show is held there as well in July. Melplash is where TV Chef Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, lives and films the series River Cottage. I occasionally see him in Bridport, so he obviously practices minimum food miles! The picture (left) is taken from the cliff top looking north toward Bridport, which is the conurbation in the distance. It is an easy walk from West Bay. Leaving the Jurassic coast behind, it can be walked in a few minutes especially for those that enjoy walking across fields.  There are a few stiles and kissing gates so it can be difficult with buggies or wheel chairs. Though I often see young families trekking along to the town on Saturday mornings.If you decide to take the Brid Path walk from Westbay to Bridport market on a Saturday morning, then the walk begins by the old “salt house” next to the green, on which the public conveniences are situated. Walk north through the Caravan Park, which incidentally has a roadway called “Bredy.” This is the name used by Thomas Hardy, when writing about Westbay he called it Port Bredy. You will leave the path in the Caravan park, and then continue along a narrow country path, that has lots of foliage, over it, a bit like a green tunnel, this is only for about 50mts and there is a stile/gate at the end. Passing this you are then out into fields and the views and openness of the fields, makes the walk quite exhilarating. The next point of note is the viaduct carrying the main dual carriageway over the meadow.  Even here in this beautiful landscape, reminders of urban living can be seen, Graffiti abounds the piers of the viaduct. However, once past this eyesore, the other side proves to be captivating, as the meadow opens up and you approach the river. In the clear water of the river you can see the bottom quite easily and shoals of fish. This is quite deceiving, and caution should be exercised, as the river is quite deep and its banks slippery and steep. You soon approach Palmers Brewery, this thatched roofed, Bridport Brewery; Palmers, has been brewing beer since 1794. The waterwheel (pictured right) dates from 1879 and is at the rear of the brewery, and there is a large weir and wrought iron bridge to the left out of camera shot. You can buy bear by the pint to take away and “Old Copper” is a nice pint, but they sell wines and other  beers apart from their own. The brewery is open to visitors, with tastings being in the boardroom!

On leaving the brewery you then walk into town along the South Street,  not very interesting you may think, because of the builders merchants and large supermarket on your right. At this point you will cross over the river and on your left and (pictured left) is the old surgery and pharmacy. However this is not the type of historic building that Bridport is known for. There are many buildings of character in Bridport including some fine examples of social affordable housing. You really have to look around you. The oldest one is the Chantry which dates back to the early 1300s when it is believed it served as a lighthouse for boats sailing up the River Brit. Later, in the 1400s, a priest took up residence, so giving the building its name. Today the building is owned by the Vivat Trust, and is (pictured right)The other building which dominates the cross roads in the Town centre is the Town Hall, it is a Grade 1 Listed Georgian building dating from 1786 built on the site of the earlier St Andrew’s Church. The clock and the cupola were added to the roof twenty years later and made the town hall dominate nearby buildings. There is a market area around the town hall and was known as The Shambles, where a number of butchers had their stalls. Today a butcher’s shop is still situated on the ground floor of the building, carrying on the tradition. St Mary’s Church in South Street is more than worth a visit was built in the 1300s, however much of the buildings standing today date from the 1500s. It has some very interesting wall plaques inside and other intriguing features. It has a very patriotic feel about it having the War Memorial built into its boundary wall. Nowadays the Cross of St George flag, is flown from many buildings, it has always been prominent in Bridport. I recall first seeing it flying in 1977, when as a member of the TAVR, my regiment the 1^st Battalion  Wessex Regiment was given freedom of Bridport and we all marched through the town colours flying Band playing and bayonets fixed. Today the Wessex Military Band play in the shambles on Saturday mornings, when they are not performing other street entertainment is often the centrepiece of the day.

There is a museum in Bridport, which dates from the Tudor period, The town has a long connection with the sea and two Royal Naval vessels have borne the name Bridport, some of the artefacts are on display in the Town hall. In East Street opposite the Town Hall is the site of the Old George Inn where Charles II stopped for refreshment in 1651, while fleeing from the Parliamentarians. The Inn was rebuilt in 1804 as a pharmacy set up by Dr Giles Roberts who invented a cure all known as “The Poor Man’s Friend”. His obelisk is in St Mary’s churchyard.  Visit Bridport yourself and find out more!

I hope Geoff, has clocked this date and will put it in the TS diary, just when you thought the Olympics were going to be the event or non event of 2012, depending on your point of view. Well you are wrong, on the Winter Solstice, the shortest day in our calendar of that year you will be a participant in an event across Wiltshire, and the rest of the universe and witness something that only our ancestors witnessed 26,000 years.

Which was a long time ago some 20,000 years before Avebury was constructed. This event is known (anoraks on) as a solar or galactic alignment, when the winter sun and Earth will align exactly with the centre of the Milky Way, this is so unusual it is known as precession and causes a force, that will make the world wobble, around its alignment with the sun. Scientists are predicting it as being very stormy, (solar that is). There will be sun activity, flares and proton storms.

I believe that this phase began in 1980. I am told that the sun will flip its magnetic field, which can cause flooding and earthquakes on our planet. The Mayans believed the world would end on this date. Today scientist predict that this period (sun cycle) will be the stormiest for some 50 years, and there will be reverse sunspots, were they come to the surface and then go back into the sun, apparently this happened very briefly on July 31, 2006. Predications are being made about the end of the world; probably by the same people who foretold of computer meltdown Y2K remember that one? I have one prediction that is there will only be three shopping days left to Christmas. For some reason, the year 12 always has some connotation about it, 1912, The Scott expedition and the sinking of Titanic, rocked this country and its collective psyche, it was fortunate the first world ward did not start two years earlier. Then look at 1812, well look at that the famous overture to get an idea of what was going on in Europe, the Luddites, were rampaging around the north of England and I almost forgot it was a leap year! Britain was at war again with the US, and the USS Constitution sunk the Royal Navy Frigate Guerrière off Nova Scotia as the US invades Canada. The shots bounced off the Constitution, leading to her being called “Old Ironsides” she had many batles over the years and today is the oldest warship afloat, HMS Victory is older but in drydock. 1712 another leap year, Thomas Newcomen, builds the first piston operated steam engine at Tipton Staffs, and we all know where that lead to; a change to the way we all travelled, traded and worked. In the rest of Europe the Treaty of Aargau was signed between Catholic and Protestants, which introduced Protestant faith in Switzerland. Frederick the Great of Russia was born. 1612, yet another leapyear, Gallilao, discovers Neptune and calls it a star, it is 234 years before it is declared a planet. General Fairfax Cromwellian General was born, oddly enough Cromwells son, the second Lord protector of England died in 1712, so perhaps there is a connection between the year 12?

I sometimes wonder if I’m not quite ‘wired up’ properly’. Whenever I start doing something very specific, I all too often find myself veering down unplanned avenues of exploration which transform a ten-minute task into a couple of hours worth of devoted tinkering.

I just can’t seem to stop myself….

Earlier today I was wondering how to embed a url inside a picture using html, and whether google would index both the image and the url embedded with the picture.

It’s quite a simple task really and didn’t take long…..but while I was playing around with it, a snippet of a recent conversation bubbled to the surface of my memory and I was off on a tangent looking for a sound file to link with a particular picture.

The remembered snippet of conversation went like this….

“….’ere, that Garry Perkins bloke reminds me of that spiv off the St Trinians films….”

Garry Perkins, as it happens, happened to be the Conservative candidate for Swindons Shaw & Nine Elms ward during the May 2007 local elections. The comment was made at the ‘count’, whilst Mr Perkins was watching his votes being counted.

Two bloody hours later and I can finally lay this to rest, so turn on your speakers….

……..and click on Garrys picture.

He won the seat by the way….

I don’t exactly know what will happen with the search engine spiders, or how they will index such a link…. I suppose it’s entirely possible Councillor Perkins picture might forever be associated with the Flash Harry anthem…..

This evening I wandered along to the cabinet open forum at Swindon Borough Council for a little chat…..

I’ve been a bit concerned about SBC’s (Swindon Borough Council) recently started public consultation regarding its plan to adopt section 55 of the Clean Neighbourhoods And Environment Act 2005. Namely, the power to enforce dog control orders.

Now, some of you will already know that I’ve been quite vocal about the DCO’s, (dog control orders), both on talkswindon and on the Swindon Advertiser Forum, and perhaps even more of you will be dismayed to learn that I’m just getting warmed up.

Tonights open forum was illuminating. Councillor David Wren, Cabinet lead member for the environment did a reasonably robust job of defending a consultation process that, in my opinion, is indefensible. When I enquired whether the decision to implement section 55 had already been taken, this was denied. However, when I asked whether full council would debate and vote upon implementing section 55, the answer was no, the cabinet would, because of financial consideration, be making the decision…… at least that was what the position was about to be, before Cllr Fionuala Foley interrupted Cllr Wren……

Suddenly the positions were reversed. On taking advice hurriedly from the Borough Solicitor, it appeared that the cabinet didn’t have the authority to take the decision afterall.

It seem that adopting section 55, (the dog control orders), had been the particular desire of one Cllr David Glaholm who proposed the motion to adopt section 55 during full council. Presumably another councillor had seconded his motion, which was then passed by a full council vote.

I don’t know whether the vote was recorded, it will make interesting reading if it was was, but it strikes me that it is probable that several councillors who supported the original motion have now taken the time to read the Act through properly…. and they’re a bit uncomfortable with what they’ve found, and as such are now thinking that adopting ‘optional’ government Acts will-nilly, and without looking properly at them first, proably isn’t a clever thing to do, especially when there’s a nearby forum full of people getting quite interested in Council business and attending Counmcil meetings as a result of reading threads on the forum.

Tonight will be chalked up as a temporary persoanl success in my battle to have DCO’s debated before being adopted, I say temporary because it isn’t over, they say, until the fat lady sings.

For two other Talkswindon members tonight was a definite success. Tig and xxxxxxxxx, (I’ll put her name in later, if she agrees), are ‘investigating’ why a brand new, and rather super, play area at Lydiard Park is not incusive of children with disabilities.

It’s a great play area, (will pop a photo in when I go and get one), but simply has nothing that wheelchair users can easily access. There’s a lot of discussion on Talkswindon about this, which has proved to be very productive…. forum members contacting, meeting and then continuing to liase with councillors and cabinet members to not only re-examine Lydiard Park with a view to getting some inclusive play equipment installed, but also to look at making many more of Swindons play areas properly inclusive for children of all abilities.

I am pleased, pleased that Tig and xxxxxx are making progress with their worthwhile aims…..and pleased because Talkswindon was the conduit that brought them together, the venue where some of the discussion has been happening and the library where the whole story, from start to finish, will be recorded.

Moreover, the inclusive play areas discussion is now expanding outwards into how swimming pools in the borough cater for disability…or not, in fact, ahem, catering for disability….and the two members concerned were tonight invited to return and help the cabinet work towards better borough-wide inclusion.

In fact, it’s true to say that I am more than pleased…..

Uh-oh…I spoke too soon. Another Talkswindon member, Steve Milner, was at tonights cabinet. Steve has just reported that the proposed revonation of the Old Railway Museum, (into the new youth services centre wotsit), is causing him some concern. (I’d had to leave the civic offices as soon as I’d concluded my business). It appears that SBC are approaching the inclusivity/useability aspect of the Old Museum on an impairment by impairment basis…..

I’m not sure what that means to be perfectly honest, but I’m willing to learn!.

I’m back down to the level of ‘pleased’ again….. but then judging by tonights results I’d say 3 out of four ain’t bad.