How To Sign A Bus!
Yesterday, going to the Olympic Park, I noticed that the New Bus for London, I was on, had this plate on the back stairs.
How To Sign A Bus!
in some ways, this is a modern interpretation of how all London Tube Trains had the maker’s name and manufacturing date on each carriage.
A Woman’s Touch Is Needed
That’s not meant to be sexist, but I do lack a certain amount of female help and guidance.
Take this morning, I woke up and thought, I’d got a splinter in my foot. If I had, it’s probably my own fault as I’m always bare footed around the house. But there was no-one with the supreme experience of a mother to have a look and possibly a dig. So in the end, I went to Upper Street and asked in Shuropody. As it happened, an Australian from Brisbane, by the name of Gabby was free and gave my feet a quick service. The problem was a small corn, which was expertly dealt with.
So this small problem was solved, but then others have not been so simple to deal with, if I had a woman nearby, to ask for help.
A question though I must ask, is why do most of the Australians I meet seem to come from Brisbane? And why do most of them seem to know a coeliac or two?
How Little Possessions Matter!
Melanie Reid, who is one of my favourite columnists, has a piece today in The Times about how little possessions matter to her now, after breaking her back in a horse riding accident. It is one of her best, but then most are and that’s why she was last year’s Newspaper columnist of the year.
She talks about how possessions and what she calls stuff have lost their significance to her. I would also say that since the loss of my wife and son to cancer and my stroke, there’s one thing that matters to me above all. And that is my brain. If one pair of shoes is more comfortable than another, then they are better.
I used to love driving and now all my cars have gone. But then I have no intention of driving again. But then too many idiots can drive, but how many have taken a train all the way to Nice and back as I have. And how many have wangled their way into the cab of an HST between Edinburgh and Inverness.
I got the latter because of my most treasured possession and something I won’t gve away; my brain. It may not be perfect, but at least all the memory and creative bits are still there.
Melanie finishes her piece about how when being searched for a flight, she started to feel the hands of the security guard and says that things are still happening. A similar thing happened to me, when a young lady pushed her supermarket basket into my left leg and apologised. I said she needn’t, as I had felt it and that was good for my left leg. So we laughed about it and carried on queuing. Perhaps, I should have asked her out for a drink, but that would be pushing my luck. The next time it happens I will.
Let’s hope she’s brown eyed and haired, as I lived with a blue-eyed blonde for forty years, and a change would be nice.
Olympic Walking Routes
Yet again last night, I feel victim to the badly laid out walking routes away from Olympic sites.
From the Olympic park, they always assume you want to get away on the Jubilee line to the centre of London, so late at night they always ban you from going to Stratford, where they funnel everybody across the bridge to the station. As I want the Overground out of Stratford, it’s very difficult for me. They want everybody to walk to West Ham. It’s probably quicker and easier to get to Dalston from Welwyn Garden City, than it is from West Ham.
Let’s face it, the Jubilee line is about as useful to me, as a chocolate teapot.
In the end last night, I walked to Eaton Manor Gate and then found I just missed the W15 bus, I needed to get to Hackney Central for any number of welcoming buses home. I should have taken the Victoria Gate and walked through the park for a 277 or 30. But hindsight is a wonderful thing.
I had a similar problem at ExCel trying to get to the cable-car, where you had to walk twice the length of the Excel building to get going in the right direction. Wasn’t the Emirates Air-Line supposed to be an important part of the Olympic transport network?
I can only assume that Olympic travel routes were drawn up by someone who doesn’t walk or use a bus and probably lives in Houston. They certainly didn’t bring the 488 bus into their thinking, despite the fact that Transport for London said they extended the route to Dalston for Olympic purposes.
They certainly made it difficult for those who live close to the stadium and just a couple of Overground or Underground stops away difficult.
Why I Won’t Drive Again!
I now suspect that in a couple of years, my eyesight might be good enough to drive again.
But I’m pretty certain that I won’t!
Given my medical history, suppose I was to hit a child and kill them, when even the impeccable witnesses said it was not my fault, would I really want to have to go through any legal process, from perhaps vindictive parents. Especially, if it came out, I’d had a serious stroke and been stopped from driving for medical reasons.
What worries me, is that there are many out there with worse medical problems than me, who still drive. As it was I could be dead now, if this morning I’d gone by the pedestrian lights near me, as an idiot in a blue Nissan Micra went up the clear inside lane at about sixty with the lights on red to go straight over. What a wanker! His medical problem was in his head. Why I hadn’t stepped out I do not know! But who cares? I just didn’t! I suspect I heard him.
Thinking about it, he must have gone straight over the crossing seventy metres or so before the lights at speed. I just wish I’d got his number.
The View From On High
The Olympic Stadium has set new standards for views in the high seats.
But then the architect of this stadium is probably the most experienced in the world.
And The Babies Came Too!
I suspect these two babies aren’t very old and they both behaved very well!
And The Babies Came Too!
I think it shows that the seats have fairly good legroom and space underneath.
Not A Bad Curry!
I had this lamb rogan gosh at the Olympic Park yesterday.
Not A Bad Curry!
It wasn’t at all bad and it was certainly better fare than I’ve found at most sporting events.
As I don’t appear to have suffered any ill effects, I would assume it was made with gram flour.
Seeig this picture though, I might say that it tasted better than it looked.
A Country I’ll Never Visit!
I’ve enjoyed the Czech Republic in the past, but I doubt I’ll be going to the neighbouring country, Slovakia, despite this enticing poster.
A Country I’ll Never Visit!
It’s all because I get around thirty spam messages a day promoting dodgy gambling sites, from a site with connections to the country. Here’s an extract from the domain registration.
fname: Dobran
lname: Sulaj
address: Letaliska 101
city: Kidricevo
pcode: 2325
country: SI
phone: +486-40-167802
email: support@dlypromos.com
Get your act together Slovakia!
Victoria Park To The Olympic Park
I took these pictures as I walked yesterday.
It certainly is an easy way to go. I met a family, who had taken the Overground from Kew to Hackney Wick and were going into the Olympics, by the same way.
Again these pictures are dominated by the flowers.
The Anonymous Widower 