A Nice Little Trip To Brussels. Episode 2. The Borg Experience.

Yes, we were on our way …… BUT, unbeknown to the innocent travellers ……. in a control centre far far away their immediate futures were being decided. A malevolent digit hovered momentarily over a large, dull, worn, red button with the letters F.U. scratched into it’s surface. With a snort of amusement the finger moved decisively downwards and the button was pressed …… immediately the train slowed and came to a standstill – there was silence.

The weary passengers looked around at each other for someone to blame – the temporary sense of camaraderie engendered by the earlier common trauma no longer evident. After bouts of tutting, expletives and rolling eyes, we took to exploring the view outside our cocoon. The other tracks – empty, the rear gardens of the terraced houses – unkempt, and, of most interest, the windows of those dwellings – unyielding. What mysteries did those curtains hide? What secrets did those dust covered windows protect? Why couldn’t we be a bit closer so that we could see inside?

It wasn’t long before my attention wandered back to my fellow travellers. No longer making any pretence to communicate with each other, they had each withdrawn to an ‘inner place’ and had clearly broken off all relations with the rest of the universe. Yet, as if responding to a species need, they all reached into their clothing and brought forth their ‘precious’ (apologies to Tolkien) – mp3 players and mobile phones. Like tiny, digital creatures that had just woken from hibernation, they began to nose their way out into the open before extending feeding tendrils into the ears of their hosts.

I pondered the seeming incongruity – each person isolated and yet linked through the ether – a wireless community. I was reminded of ‘the Borg’ – individual work units but part of a common collective – not required to understand their purpose only that they had a program which had to be followed. Plugged into and fully at one with their devices but oblivious to all around them – hurtling through space. At this point, of course, the analogy breaks down as we weren’t hurtling anywhere.

Eventually, the train, whilst not hurtling, did lurch into life and start to worm it’s way grudgingly along the track, screeching and protesting towards London – so Brussels became just a little bit closer. I relaxed and watched the world slip by – is that a metaphor for something?

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A Nice Little Trip To Brussels. Episode 1. The Easy Bit.

I decided, rather on the spur of the moment, that I fancied a trip on Eurostar to Brussels. Why Brussels? – I’d done Paris and Amsterdam several times and I instinctively felt that Brussels couldn’t be as dull as people said – although I’d driven through Belgium many times without feeling the need to stop and soak up the culture. I had been to Brussels once during my late teens but all I could remember was the stout, elderly woman with the scrutinising and rather disdainful stare who looked after the mixed public loo (emphasis on ‘public’). Let me hasten to add it was not this image that was drawing me back, perhaps I just felt that there had to be more to this ancient capital of the Holy Roman Empire. Continue reading »

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The Battle of Britain All Over Again : North Devon’s Fight For True Local Radio.

In the skies over the green and pleasant land of North Devon there is a battle being fought. This is a battle for the airwaves the outcome of which will have implications for ‘true local radio’ throughout the kingdom. Continue reading »

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We Are Not Alone – Tring Reservoirs

Leaving behind the concrete slabs, exhaust fumes and grime of the urban sprawl and exchanging it for the clean air and flora & fauna of the ‘natural world’ is something I do as often as I can. BUT when visiting I bear in mind that I’m sharing this wonderful habitat with many other species and that I have a responsibility to do nothing which causes the inhabitants or their homes any damage. All too frequently interaction between human and non-human species unwittingly but avoidably  results in ‘collateral casualties’. Continue reading »

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A Hidden Jewel – Docton Mill.

It was a sunny, very warm and cloudless morning in May as I turned off the A39 and headed towards Hartland and Stoke on the north west coast of Devon. After a few miles I took a left and drove down increasingly narrow country lanes (watch out for hares) in the direction of Elmscott until I found what I was looking for. And that really is the point, unless you’re actually looking for Docton Mill, you’re unlikely to just come across it by accident. Continue reading »

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A Tranquil Place – Horner Wood.

Earlier this month I had the good fortune to visit Horner Wood on the north Somerset coast and I found a place where I could have wandered all day, a place where I felt a peace and tranquility the like of which I have not experienced for some considerable time. Horner Wood, which can be accessed by a narrow lane off the A39 a few miles east of Porlock, is an ancient oak wood which is owned and managed by the National Trust as part of the Holnicote Estate. At Horner Village you’ll find a car park, toilets and, at certain times of the year, somewhere to buy refreshments – a walk through Horner Wood begins just a few hundred yards away.

Continue reading »

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How to start a blog…

Haven’t a clue. Possibly “Once upon a time..” or “Now here’s a funny thing…” I’ll try this. A funny thing happened to me on my way through Kent, I saw a sign saying ‘BADGERS MOUNT PRATTS BOTTOM’. Continue reading »

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