The world is getting a smaller place thanks to the Internet. For years I have posted messages on the Stoke City fanzine (The Oatcake) messageboard. One of my fellow posters, usually kind enough to support my views, is known as Dallas Cowboy as he moved to the USA to marry and settled in Texas. By some odd coincidence he and his wife moved to Jacksonville around eight months ago. Last Friday evening Tina and I were able to meet Margaret and Calvin for a meal and had a lovely evening in their company, so I could finally put a face to a name. Calvin and I were that engrossed putting Stoke City, Jacksonville, America, and the world in general to rights that the poor waitress had to return three times to take our order as we hadn’t looked at the menu. The night flew by and we were out far later than intended, but no complaints as it was good fun. So it goes to show as the song says there are Stokies here, Stokies there, Stokies {beep!}ing everywhere.
Monthly Archive for June, 2008
Right the Plan. Put together with the usual Pointon military precision as fostered by Pointon Snr (aka The Owd Mon), the man of 4am starts, memorised A Roads and marmalade butty breakfasts on Paignton sea front by 9am sharp.* Here’s what we’ll be up to next week. Atten…shun!
17 June – Leave Jacksonville when Tina gets off work around lunchtime. Drive to Crystal River in the west calling in at Gainesville to break up the journey and visit the architecturally interesting University, its pretty gardens, and Lake Alice complete with alligators. Overnight at Crystal River.
18 June – Crystal River National Wildlife Refuge, and Homosassa (no sniggering in the ranks!) Springs Wildlife State Park for walking trails and manatee observation points. Drive to Tampa in the evening and stay overnight.
19 June – Downtown Tampa attractions. Drive east to Titusville late afternoon (maybe a quick flit via Orlando) and stay overnight.
20 June – Walking trails and looking for alligators and manatee at Merrit Island Wildlife Refuge near Kennedy Space Center. Return to Jacksonville and have the night at the apartment.
21 June – Drive north-west to Florida’s capital, Tallahassee. Do the Leon Sinks Trail in the Appalachicola National Forest and maybe Walluka Springs if time. Stay the night at Tallahassee.
22 June – Return to Jacksonville calling first at either Ellaville or White Springs to do trails along the Suwannee River.
Stand at… wait for it, wait for it… ease! Dismissed.
* Not forgetting of course the obligatory stop at Taunton Deane Services and coffee in a flask.
Yesterday was a bit of an odd day with tension in the air from the outset. I think I suffered from not getting up and having a bike ride. 
There’s not much else to report. even Hadley Cat seemed in a funny mood and was relentlessly after my feet trying to bite them. So I spent part of the morning looking up kitten behaviour on the Internet. However normal service has resumed today. I had a ride out early on and took a few photos. Here’s one of Jacksonville Beach pier. There’s a couple more in the gallery.
Today has been washing day. Hanging up the clothes in the spare bedroom made me think how ludicrous some things are over in the US. Here’s a brief list:
1. Sunny hot weather yet you are not allowed to hang up washing outside, expected to tumble dry instead.
2. Moaning about gas reaching $4 a gallon yet driving huge 8 mpg SUVs.
3. Too lazy to park and get out of cars there are drive-in banks, chemists, and other stores as well as the fast food outlets.
4. The Presidential Election system.
5. The high cost of medical insurance and the large quantities of sugar rich foods.
6. Arriving at the cashier and paying more than the shelf price because tax is then added.
Rant over. I feel better for that. I also feel better now I’ve booked the hotels and car for our road trip next week 
Oh yes and it’s an “economy” small car not a SUV!
I had a lie-in this morning… I got up about 7:30am. As is becoming the custom I took to the beach for my morning bike ride. I love the sound of the ocean, it is one of my favourite sounds in the world. I don’t know if it is because it evokes happy childhood memories of family holidays in Paignton blissfully ignorant of mortgages, taxes, and the other complexities of life, one’s concerns limited to finishing the sandcastle before the tide came in or whether the icecream man had strawberry. While Goodrington Sands may have preserved steam trains working hard up the embankment that runs along its length, the beach here does manage to eclipse it. For starters it is huge. From Mayport Naval Base towards the north it runs southwards for best part of 30 miles to St Augustine where it is split by an inlet before carrying on miles further.
The section I have ridden has almost white sand, the properties separated from the beach by a narrow strip of dunes and vegetation. Thanks to its size the beach never seems crowded despite its popularity. Today I rode north almost at the water’s edge looking to my right at waves crashing in to shore. They are getting big enough to attract the surfers, a number already out at that time. They were joined by anglers with large rods thrust into the sand, the walkers and runners, and today’s oddity, a young woman collecting shells with a large bright green parrot watching proceedings from her shoulder. You see it all here I tell you. I rode for 25 minutes on the beach, enough to start feeling stomach muscles working, yet an easy task that flew by when compared to the same effort on a exercise bike in a grey Beeston living room. I returned by back road through the pretty neighbourhoods to call at the bank and health store at Neptune Beach “village”.
No doubt you can’t say this about all the rest of United States but one striking difference about this area is the polite and friendly nature of its people. Without exception fellow beach users will greet you with either a smile and wave of acknowledgement, or a “how ya doin’?” as you go past. The same goes for neighbours and strangers alike on the streets. A stark contrast to the streets at home where I’d be lucky to get a surly scowl from a passing Beestonian, trousers tucked in socks and fag on. At the risk of sounding like an old giffer, good manners cost nowt and it is a refreshing change to see people have them.
I got the map out this morning and worked out that yesterday Tina and I rode 10 miles. I’ve probably done about 5 today. Slacking. Tina has gone to work and I’m listening to some Ska and Reggae through the iPod speakers sorting out the travel for next week’s road trip. I’ve had my healthy breakfast with lashings of fresh pineapple and strawberries. I have to be good, I think we are going out later for a meal at a new Mexican restaurant with Tina’s friends. Apparently the sweets are enormous and delicious and I’m under instruction to have one. One final thought for today, cold showers might have been dreaded at school but after a ride here they are positively de rigueur.
Anyone who knows me at work will raise a wry smile at this or maybe even laugh… Given that I perpetually struggle to haul myself out of bed on a morning resulting in me sauntering into the office usually around 10am these days, it will come to a shock to my colleagues to learn that this morning I was not only up at 6:00am, by 6:30am I was setting off on a bike ride with Tina. The recent temperatures have been about 33′C (or 91′F in old money) so it makes sense to do any exercise early doors while it is still relatively cool. A decent plan, but slightly flawed if you don’t get back until around 11am when it’s close to maximum frying levels.
We started off along the beach and here’s one of the snaps I took en route. 
There were plenty of folk about even then, running, walking dogs, just walking, and one receiving tution from a personal trainer lifting weights. After a while we headed back to the road which runs parallel to the beach and took it all the way to Ponte Vedra, a district which seems to be just an enormous golf course with multi-million Dollar properties littered neatly around it. While the houses were enough to make you gawp, the highlight was stopping on a couple of bridges where we saw an alligator and turtles.
The return journey was broken up by a visit to Target and Publix, two staple US stores which I’m becoming very familiar with as I always seem to be in them. Amongst other things I swooped for Duffy’s “Rockferry” album seeing as it was only $9.99 (approximately a fiver back home) so I thought it rude not to. To give sustenance for the last leg we wolfed down a bagel and coffee in Publix’s deli seating area, and after collecting some books Tina had ordered, set off for home now in quite oppresive heat. It was a relief to get off the road on to the beach again and benefit from the sea breeze.
We’ve spent the afternoon roasting ourselves on Jacksonville Beach and while Tina has been at work this evening I’ve uploaded some photos from the trip so far. You can find them here, click me. I’m quite pleased with the ones from this morning’s ride.
No doubt sensing the nervous tension in the air, Orlando Cat chose the morning of my departure to the USA to do a runner. Her usual tour of the backyard takes about 20 minutes before wanting to come back in for food and ablutions. However she’d been gone for around one hour and I was just getting to the point of frantic panic looking down the back alley under cars, in neighbours’ yards, when she turned up at my front door. She never ever turns up there. I’m surprised she knew it was my house. So it appears that the trademan’s entrance around the back is no longer good enough for her Ladyship.
This unscheduled part of yesterday morning unsettled the strictly planned regime and I missed my intended bus and subsequently the airport train. Despite fearing the worst and filling my head with potentially woeful scenarios, it proved not too much of a problem as I got the next train saving me from an extra half hour hanging around Manchester Airport’s Departure Lounge. It also meant I checked in at the same time as the footballer Paulo Wanchope who was on my flight to New York and in front of me in the queue. The full extent of Orlando’s disruption became apparent when Security emptied my hand luggage and I realised that in the kerfuffle I’d left my reading glasses on the dining table. I had at least packed my prescription sunglasses. An initial period of cursing and calling myself all sorts of names for my stupidity was replaced with the resolve to live with it as there was nothing I could do, just forget it and move on. In the great scheme of things in the concept of what is going on around the world, it was no great disaster.
My flight was uneventful, I managed to catch a bit of sleep to add to the previous night’s five hours, and I saw nothing more of Mr Wanchope until Immigration as I assume he was enjoying the comforts of First or Business Class and not in with me and the rest of the proles. I wasn’t looking forward to five hours at Newark Liberty Airport having done it to death on my last trip, but this time I got the mild excitement of going on the monorail between two terminals. Having bought USA Today to read the latest on the Obama v McCain tussle, I settled down to kill some time with simply the largest veggieburger I’ve ever seen bought from the rare mirage of an airport wholefood cafe. I wasn’t sure whether to eat the burger or thrust a flag into the top and claim it as some remote British outpost. It was too tall to actually get into the mouth without breaking a jaw so I set about it with a knife and fork, although I might have been better equipped with an oxyacetylene blowlamp.
Now replete with carbs and feeling alive again I spent the time until my Jacksonville flight reading the paper, listening to Northern Soul on the iPod, and chuckling at “It cracks like breaking skin” a series of short stories set in Stoke-on-Trent written by fellow Stokie, the novellist and manbag carrying Stephen Foster. It was a godsend and helped the time to pass quickly. The chapter called “Bubblegum” was a particular masterpiece which had me laughing out loud resulting in quizzical glances from the person sat next to me.
Finally we boarded and thankfully the flight was actually early arriving in Jacksonville and Tina was there for an emotional meeting. 
Bags squeezed into her two seater sports car we headed back through the humid night to Jacksonville Beach. At 10pm it was still around a sticky 80′F something I’m going to have to get used to but will struggle with I’m sure. As I sit and type this it’s just around 9am on Sunday, and it’s already quite oppressive in here. Tina has gone to work and I might head out soon to get some “groceries” before it gets really hot. I’m cat-sitting as I can’t escape mad felines, Tina has just taken in a 5 week old kitten abandoned at a friend’s vets. Hadley the kitten is very cute, and has taken a shine to my feet, biting them mid-typing. How anyone could dump an animal beats me especially one as cute as Hadley. I’ll leave you with a photo from this morning, me bleary eyed and Hadley full of beans doing her impression of a parrot. See y’all later.
There’s a bit of politics going on in my back yard, and it might soon be a war zone. As reported the other day the neighbour’s tomcat has become quite partial to my yard. I don’t mind as he’s a bit of a character, a lovely docile cat. 
But Orlando Cat is not impressed. Oh no, his appearance brings spitting, wailing and cowering behind plant pots from her Ladyship. As Orlando is apparently the first cat he’s ever seen I don’t think the Intruder quite knows what to make of all this. He will if he gets too close. It could get quite messy.
I got home tonight and he was sat on my bin by the fence to his house. Rather than fleeing, as I opened the back door he took up position on my Vespa as you can see. How could I be angry with such a cool intruder? A bright moment after a long hard day “putting in a shift”. (© Anthony Pulis Snr)
So it’s Obama then. Something over the last few weeks everyone but Clinton seemed to accept. Personally I’m pleased. When I was in Florida in April I bought Obama’s book “The Audacity of Hope” and finished it two days before his final victory. He is clearly an intelligent and articulate man who writes as well as he performs at the lectern. That said I was rather disappointed with the first hundred or so pages. I found it wishy-washy, fence-sitting stuff, desperate not offend anyone or any side, complementary rather than critical of some of his Republican opponents. It also gave a worrying description of US politics and the importance of financial backing to succeed in what they term a democracy.
These first few chapters reminded me very much of Tony Blair’s approach in some respects. Blair was not in my opinion a conviction politician guided by an overarching philosophy or doctrine. He was more of a manager figure who would use practical and pragmatic methods to achieve what he thought was right for the country even though in many cases observers like myself felt it lacked substance and too often departed the principles of his party’s core belief system. Blair would draw in members of the Opposition to key committees to help smooth decision making, and could be accused of cherry picking some of the Opposition’s ideas for Government policy. Charisma, drive and vision were the key to Blair’s three General Election victories, and while Gordon Brown might have an approach more rooted in a political philosophy, I think he lacks those three qualities which made Blair a successful Prime Minister, contributing to the current woes at No10.
Obama shares this charisma, drive and vision. I think from reading the rest of the book he also does have a underpinning belief system that fights for the underprivileged, the ordinary Joe, and actually all Americans. The second half of the book goes on to analyse America’s problems and describe sensible policies that might actually make a difference. The choices in many cases are not hard and finance exists to put them in place. What needs to change is the political will. I found myself willing him to succeed and it was a breath of fresh air from what we have had for the last eight years. The other evening John Snow on Channel 4 News said to a Republican advisor that if the world had a vote it would be voting for Obama. I think he is right. Outside of the USA we see Obama as not only a refreshing change, but someone who might restore America’s world standing. It is now down to the American people to make their decision. The next President of the USA will make history whoever wins, but is the one that will make a real difference that I’d like to see elected. Given that the USA elected George W Bush twice fills me with despondency and makes me wary of expecting an Obama victory. But Obama gives me hope. Obama is by no means a radical, but to me he symbolises a radical change and that’s the important matter. I hope that Americans sense that too and have the courage to vote for Obama as President.
“There is not a black America and a white America and Latino America and an Asian America – there’s the United States of America”. Barack Obama, Democratic National Convention 2004.
As Obama relays in his book, he wishes for an America that fulfils Dr Martin Luther King’s promised that we be judged not by the colour of our skin but the content of our character. If America can embrace that concept and extend it beyond their boundaries, the world will be a much better place.
Having subjected some colleagues to a lengthy presentation about proposed service improvements for my section, I got my come-uppance when I got in from work. Orlando had a turd stuck to her arse when I got home. She stank. I had to corner her in the kitchen and try to yank it off with some kitchen roll trying hard not to chunder. Naturally Orlando was not keen on this indignity. She was less keen when I squirted her bottom with (pet-friendly) disinfectant and gave it a wipe as best I could between the protests! Eventually she sensed it was for her own good and started purring. But she’s spent a lot of the night outside sulking! Thankfully she’s speaking to me again now and is curled up on her plastic bag in the attic.
Yesterday I discovered her cowering behind the wheelie bin because nextdoors’ kitten has now grown into a huge tomcat and he’d escaped the house and got into my yard. He wasn’t being menacing but just his presence was freaking Orlando out. She hates cats. The hefty intruder couldn’t work out his way home so I had to lift him over to Louise the neighbour. Lordy he was heavy! Last time I saw him he was a tiny ball of fluff.
After much faffing about, gnashing of teeth, expletives, and going around in circles through stylesheets and MySQL databases, I’ve got this thing looking pretty much how I want it. It’s now as good as ready for the grand fanfare and launch to the unsuspecting world. I wanted it ready before my trip to the USA this coming weekend and it should be. I just need a few more photos in the general gallery. (Incidentally the concept of offering some of my best photos for sale is still a little way off).
But life has not been revolving completely around this site. I spent the Bank Holiday weekend trying to walk in Exmoor and Dartmoor with my friend Jen, but while the company was good the weather was far from it. Mist ruined the views from Dunnery Beacon although the walk through pastures and woodland was pleasant all the same. The next day the expedition over Dartmoor lasted about 30 minutes after a drenching, being blown about Hayter Rocks, and not being able to see beyond 50 feet in front of us. Thankfully dropping down to lower ground we salvaged something of the day with a walk at Budleigh Salterton on the coast, circling the River Otter estuary and briefly visiting the cliffs.
On Saturday I joined a group of 15 walkers and tackled Robinson, Hindscarth, Dale Head and Fleetwith Pike in the Lake District. There were incredible views of Buttermere and Crummock Water, being blessed with a warm sunny clear day. 
After the 11 miles walk and over 4,000 feet of total ascent I was glad I was staying overnight at Coniston again and not facing the drive back to Leeds. I’ll leave you with a photo of Buttermere taken from the summit of Fleetwith Pike (648 metres or 2126 feet if you prefer!) Shame darker clouds were beginning to loom just at one of the most impressive spots. 
