Author Archives: hairygoose

26/01/2014

10k is the new 5k

By hairygoose

I am almost home and dry, my watch will finish by 17:00 on Thursday 30th January and I am looking forward to my two months off (which ironically is also one of Underworlds greatest tracks). Will I miss Italy – not one bloody bit.

I have devised some plans that are guaranteed to piss of the Italians.

1.  Increase the tax on ice cream

2. Raise the price of fags by a euro

3. Enforce traffic laws

4. Make them all do ‘National Service’ in customer service jobs

5. Make them start and finish work on time

 

Of course, if any of those fail, we could always remind them that it was only a couple of generations ago that they stood shoulder to shoulder with the Nazis.

Why am I so annoyed with these muppets?  4 times now, I have come close to getting run over while on pedestrian crossings (with the green man lit) and when I say close, I mean ‘punching the bonnet’ close.  Two twisted ankles while running on the roads – for all the forest and cross country running I have covered, I have NEVER twisted an ankle – give me 3 months in Genoa and I get two. Contractors blatantly lying to me face to face, a lack of ability to achieve even the most simple task on time and/or to an acceptable level but most of all, their ability to make me feel like I need to apologise to them for their short comings.

So what next?  Egypt !  Seems to be a bit of a war zone at the minute but that has potential to turn into a huge adventure of getting out of a war torn country on foot, alive and sane.

Italy has provided me with some winning situations though.  I have broken my 10k record time twice now (once only 6 days after my 2nd twisted ankle) and yesterday I also beat my mountain bike top speed record and pushed the envelope (listen to my corporate speak) up to 44.3mph.  I also have 4 days left to break my 7k and 5k records which I fully intend to do unless I have another twist.

I gave a security guard a run for his money the other night, I came running in one of the exits to the shipyard and heard him get off his seat.  Next he was out of his gatehouse shouting at me to stop but I thought better of it.  I was against the clock and I was pretty certain he would be too lazy to actually give chase – and I was also hoping that if he decided to draw his gun, he would be as shit a shot as he was an athlete.  I never stopped, he never shot me, that has to be a win win situation.

Now, I have to get lucky again tomorrow night as I run the 5k and turn in past his gatehouse again I will be sprinting for almighty with plenty of Billy Big Steps – if nothing else, the incentive to dodge bullets should get me a good 5k time. As a minimum I will be running in a zig zag pattern until out of shooting range.

Come Friday morning, I will be road tripping again – Switzerland at first light and into the snowy Alps.  I will be trying very hard this time not to trip any speed cameras before hitting the dizzy heights of downtown Brussels and my first Belgian beer in 3 weeks.

I spotted 2 new adventures this week on the TV.   A 10 mile race up and then back down Snowdon and then a full marathon through Snowdonia.  I expect to be signed up for both of them before too long

Next race is scheduled for Saturday 8th February in Coventry as I hit the local Park Run again, Poopie Pants will be there, and so might my sister if she isn’t too busy looking into when she gets her pension book.

 

 

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15/01/2014

If you wanna be a record breaker – Yeaaahhhhhh!

By hairygoose

A minute and a half off my best 10k time tonight – and it felt good.  Most noticeably, no clench required.

Now I am motivated, lets see if we can tumble the Genoa 5k and 7k before I leave at the end of the month.

just booked 3 weeks in Egypt to finally complete my dive instructor license – sometimes you just have to get on with it don’t you?

Just a quick note to thank my ultra paranoid girlfriend for

1. Interrupting me while in full flow writing last nights blog, frantic with verbal diarrhoea.

2. texting me at midnight and beyond with even more paranoia

 

What was it all about ?  Well, apparently someone was ‘fucking with her’.  An unknown person had stealthily entered the house, climbed two flights of stairs, opened her shoe cupboard and removed 1, yes just 1 pair of shoes and made off with them whilst leaving jewelry, computers, TV’s and a host of other goodies untouched. fucking amazing I thought !!

This paranoia went on for quite some time, in fact into office hours today before I suggested she checked the boot of her Volvo, which was where I last saw them over christmas while me and Rupert were loading the car with beer.

Despite me asking her today what the moral of the story was – she failed to get it.  As Uncle Den would say, ‘a place for everything and everything in his place’.  My Grandma would have undoubtedly put it much less subtly – ‘Put your fucking stuff away next time’.  My mother, most likely would tutt, smile and role her eyes.

Women and shoes

 

I guess I will get the blame when I get home though for not telling her sooner where they were.  I would have been very annoyed with her if it wasn’t for the fact that when I get home on the 30th, there will be a couple of big bars of purple Milka in the fridge, accompanied by some very cold Belgian beer. Well there just better be.

 

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14/01/2014

Duck Dynasty is back !!!

By hairygoose

Of all the crap that is on TV these days, it is refreshing to have something like this.  If you haven’t yet seen it, you absolutely have to, the wisdom of Si knows no bounds – good to see common sense has prevailed – and in the American race too !

I coined a new phrase today – ‘about as much use as an Italian employed in a customer service department’.  That goes out to Connor, who not only married one but is also making a pilgrimage back here about now I guess.  I would ask why – but he is South African so is naturally beyond help !

I did the double tonight – no, not a mother/daughter combo, or better still the twins menage a trois but a back to back 7k run.  Last night a 7k and tonight was scheduled as a 5k but I was feeling saucy so I poked in another 7k.  This is not bad going I have to say.  Last Fridays 10k was interrupted at around 8k by the urgent need to poop.  I was gutted.  There is nothing quite like the feeling of a good run but sometimes, my body clock is just off a bit. Imagine my disappointment when last night’s 7k also got interrupted by the need to poop.

In the forest it’s not so bad, I carry a pack of handy andy’s in my running bag and can cop a squat almost completely at will, but in the city, it needs a bit of pre planning.  More surprising, after two and a half months in Genoa, these are the first times that the poop has reared its head, or should I say, touched its cloth?

I am pleased to say that tonight’s run went exactly as planned, a good pace from the off, very cold here tonight but I have my hat and gloves.  At around the mile mark (regular readers will be aware this is my first poop danger stage) I felt the urge.  I couldn’t believe it, a third night on the trot (excuse the pun).  The really bad thing is, when you feel the urge and you start thinking about plans, it makes you need poop relief more.

I pushed on and thankfully the urge went away………..for a while.  The second time, curiously enough, I was in the vicinity of the toilet that had saved my turtle embarrassment on the two previous runs.  Its funny how your body knows huh ?  I clenched again and pressed on.

The clench saddened me a little.  There is no doubt, it has actually been scientifically proven, that having to clench slows you down. Usain Bolt might manage a sub 10 second 100 metres but ask him to clench and it drops to 12 seconds flat. My pace had been good, without a doubt the clenches would cost me.

I passed the twisted ankle spot with caution and then ‘did one’ down the home straight back to the shipyard, stopped my watch and felt confident of a new 7k record.

Not to leave you on a cliff hanger but Connor sent me some blonde jokes which I would like to share with you all.

 

A blond man is in the bathroom and his wife shouts: “Did you find the
Shampoo?”

He answers, “Yes, but I’m not sure what to do… it’s for dry hair, and I’ve just wet mine.”
——————————

A blond man goes to the vet with his goldfish.

“I think it’s got epilepsy,” he tells the vet.

The vet takes a look and says, “It seems calm enough to me.”

The blond man says, “Wait, I haven’t taken it out of the bowl yet.”
————————————

A blond man spies a letter lying on his doormat.

It says on the envelope “DO NOT BEND”.

He spends the next 2 hours trying to figure out how to pick it up.
————————————

A blond man shouts frantically into the phone, “My wife is pregnant and her
Contractions are only two minutes apart!”

“Is this her first child?” asks the Doctor.

“No!” he shouts, “this is her husband!”
————————————

A blond man was driving home, drunk as a skunk. Suddenly he has to swerve
To avoid a tree, then another, then another.

A cop car pulls him over, so he tells the cop about all the trees in the
Road.

The cop says, “That’s your air freshener swinging about!”
————————————

A blond man’s dog goes missing and he is frantic. His wife says “Why don’t you put an ad in the paper?”

He does, but two weeks later the dog is still missing.

“What did you put in the paper ad?” his wife asks.

“Here boy!” he replies.
————————————

A friend told the blond man: “Christmas is on a Friday this year.”

The blond man then said, “Let’s hope it’s not the 13th.”
————————————

Two blond men find three grenades, and they decide to take them to a police
Station.

One asked: “What if one explodes before we get there?”

The other says: “We’ll lie and say we only found two.”

 

OK, back to the main story – the run.  It was my second fastest 7k time, just 11 seconds off a new record – those clenches had surely cost me the record, Norris McWhirter could have been so proud but alas, I failed.

Tomorrow I will try the 10k record just for shits and giggles – actually, maybe I shouldn’t use that phrase.

 

On a lighter note, I am looking  to go to Egypt next month to finally complete my Scuba Instructor exams.  Egypt is really cheap at the moment – 4 star hotels for around 40€  a night – that’s not too shabby. Sharm el Sheik here I come.

That will do for now but let me give you a little tip – Gin Wigmore !

Lastly but by no means least – please all say hi to Joanne Beach – an old chum from my LeasePlan days – Hi Jo!  she recently joined the ranks of the ‘subscribed’.  The November Archives will be 9 years old in a couple of months – sometimes the only thing that keeps me coming back is the fact that there is so much history here.  Anyway, Jo is somewhere down south in the Selsey area – she is so rock and roll!!

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15/12/2013

Where Eagles Dare – Breaking records, not Bones

By hairygoose

I hoped to be bringing you news of a new speed record today but alas (poor Yorick) I failed miserably.  Maybe my record of 44mph over in the States last year will never be beat – in fact it is quite possible as we all know, America is the worlds best at everything.

Yesterday I went on a recce in the Sport.  I have been riding the ridges and valleys in and around Genoa since I got here, looking for something interesting to blitz.  So far, I have found little of interest.  Despite the terrain, the Italians have failed to grasp the potential of the great outdoors with one exception that I found last week, a ‘not very challenging’ ridge ride and drop into the valley. If they weren’t so busy baking bread and eating ice cream they would realise how much potential the hills surrounding Genoa have for outdoor adventure types like me and you.  If nothing else, the extra tourism would increase the sales of ice cream.

Last week, looking across the valley to the next peak, I noticed the scar of a road winding its way up the side of the mountain until it disappeared over the top and out of sight.  Looking at it, the climb was going to be a mofo but of course every cyclist knows, for every hill you climb, there is an equal descent.  In the Sport, I climbed into the clouds and out the top of them all in a matter of minutes.  In the cloud, plenty of understeer on the hairpins due to the moisture and also the constant passing of quarry trucks but something told me this had potential.  My altimeter suggested 2000 feet at the top and that was enough for me to set my alarm for 07:00 this morning.

Just after 9am, I was away, an easy warm up out towards the airport and then behind Ikea (where I also noticed a squash club) and then, the left hand turn off the main road left me facing directly at the hill I was about to climb, better still, those switchbacks were in front of me, calling me like a classic old italian movie.  I counted around a dozen before I made my first turn that put them out of sight behind me.

I can always measure the intensity of a route by the gears I need to use. Now, a hard run out with Brownie and Poopie Pants, I might occasionally grab the little gears on the front ring but mainly for off road climbs, a middle ring is the order of the day. Fast on road stuff is big ring only.  Within 10 minutes of turning off the main road, I was on the little gear and stayed that way for the next hour.  Looking up at the next 10 hairpins was a little disheartening but always being safe in the knowledge that I would soon be belting back down.

Near the summit, the road was still damp and slippery where the sun was trying to get to it, these bends would need maximum respect on my nobbly tyres especially as the Sport was sliding around the day before.  I made a mental note of the bends that were still wet so that I didn’t do anything stupid on the way into them.

At the top, a small pause for a pee, change into a dry shirt (nothing worse than wind chill in a sweat soaked shirt) and some gaitor aid to help replace those precious fluids, a few quick photos and then I gloved up, popped on my fluffy hat and sunnies and headed off.

Very quickly, I was thankful for the change into a dry shirt, the wind chill was 100% nipple.  The fluffy hat doing its job and I was peddling like a mentalist.  It wasn’t long before I was wishing for taller gearing and cursing that I was missing an opportunity to go faster but then, I hit the wet bends.  Not a weird sexual fetish you understand, but those extremely greasy bends I encountered the day before in the 4×4.

I survived thankfully, onto the switchbacks, fast descents and hard hairpins with convex mirror on their outer apex.  As my confidence grew, I started using the mirrors to get a view of the upcoming road, if I could see it was clear, I could use both lanes on the bend and carry more speed.  A little nervy even by my standards, barreling towards a hairpin with armco and a death drop on the other side and your focus is on a small convex mirror instead of your braking points – it just makes it a little more heart stopping and that is good if you are a forty something adrenaline junkie.

As fast as it was, it just wasn’t fast enough – my maximum speed of just 37mph (60kph) is still a solid 7mph off my record (FFS – I managed 32mph in the Forest in Brussels on the dirt). Some of you might be thinking ‘that’s fast enough old timer’ but I am thinking ‘maybe a road bike would be faster ?’

The problem being, straight sections not long enough between mentally tight hairpins means constant deceleration was damaging my speed record attempt. So I remain in search of a route (or bike) that will allow me to pass through the 45mph barrier and maybe into the 50’s. I do know of one in the Alps bu tit is a motorway, and I would need someone to drive my car behind me.

I took a couple of photos on the climb up, the switchbacks have to be seen.  I will add them to the photo section a little later this evening under ‘Sport d’Italia’  feel free to take a look.

The link below should take you to the runkeeper page

http://runkeeper.com/user/hairygoose/activity/280715455?&tripIdBase36=4n4pfj

 

Congratulations to my older sister for completing a 5k race today – ‘it’s all for charity mate!’

 

 

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11/12/2013

By the light of the silvery moon

By hairygoose

Last night, I watched two episodes of ‘Bottom’.  For the uninitiated, it is not porn but think back to the 90’s when a certain Richard Richard and Edward Hitler graced our screens and you have arrived.

After my double dose of Bottom, I had quite a scary dream where a certain Edward Hitler was in fact my Dentist but thankfully in his latter form as per his recent show ‘Ade in Britain’. He was showing me an X-ray of my pearlies and then started buzzing the drill – it was at that point my alarm woke me up!

Tonight, I had my penultimate Italian lesson of the year, I am actually looking forward to finishing school – I feel that very little has in fact sank in.  A little time off to re-group.  I have noticed a lot recently the sheer amount of people that have their faces buried in their phones while out and about.  What I find hugely annoying is the fuckers that don’t even look up as they walk and text and walk straight into you.  I am currently working on a new technique for this, something that I am calling ‘ a punch in the throat ™ ‘.  While they are laid out on the floor gasping for air, I can then kick the crap out of their phones. I am hoping this tactic will spread like the plague so that the streets can once again become free of these mongs.

I stood at the top of the scaffolding tonight – I know, scaffolding, such a glamorous life, selected my runkeeper walk option and had the music on random. Popped my earphones in and was greeted by a very pleasant tune by The Lemonheads.  I liked it a lot and was festively happy about my random music selection as I started out on my way to school.  It was then that I realised my schoolboy error.  The runkeeper was still set to run from this morning, I hadn’t changed it to walk.  I stopped it, deleted the current event and started again but was distraught not to hear The Lemonheads come back on.  Instead I had The Undertones telling me about how a Mars Bar helps you work, rest and play – classic stuff

The good news from that last paragraph is that I am again successfully running.  The problem with taking a week or so off running is that when you start again, it hurts like bloody hell. Tomorrow morning I will make run Nº 3 for this week, nothing major, just a quick 5k until the weekend when I can stretch out a little more maybe – it’s all good………..except,

Genoa is very dry, humidity wise.  So dry, I started to get some chapping on my thighs and love handles.  I found some Dove moisturiser to compliment the Dove soap that I always use and has it worked? Has it bollocks ! You chicks get sucked in by this shit all the time!  my chapping is still there but worse still, I thought I would do myself a favour and moisturise my face – I mean, what is the worst that could happen, my face wasn’t even chapped but I figured maybe a little softness might make the missus happy next time I see her.

Instead, this wonderful moisturiser has left my face looking more like that of a leper. dry and scabby with flaky skin that wasn’t there pre-moisturising.  The other thing is, it stings like bloody hell after you have put it on. Surely it’s not meant to be like this ?

Or have I been using Acetone instead?

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03/12/2013

Mugged twice in one week

By hairygoose

I stepped out tonight with a bit of Biffy in my ear – I have to admit to liking their sound.  While on that subject, my breakfast TV this morning consisted of Duran Duran being interviewed and playing live – stunned to admit it, but they sounded good.  I had to double take to make sure they were playing live – and they were.

Thursday night last week, I was on a bit of a mission.  On Tuesday evening I ran 10k, Wednesday morning just under 5 k and on Thursday evening was going for  7k – all timed of course, with me competing against my nemesis – Me!  The Thursday run felt supremely good.  I felt strong, the pace was on for a quick time and I was running with the strength of a Stallion.  It wasn’t quite a gallop but certainly more than a trot.  Maybe one of my horsey type friends can tell me what that is – I was going to say canter but I am not too sure.  My legs were pulsing with energy and making good long strides. With about a kilometre and a half to go – I was feeling invincible.

A feeling of Invincibility is normally a falsehood, if not a warning sign. Of course, it was me against my nemesis so I wasn’t slowing – at least not until my left foot hit a pot hole and rolled inward making those poor tendons crack and groan under the strain.  The sound carried through my body and into my ears and completely drowned the Prodigy who were running with me at that time.

I knew I was done for.  It is funny how your mind works – I am still hopping to a stop and the first thought in my mind is that now, I am going to get cold.  It was around 4ºC outside and I was hot and sweaty – that wouldn’t last long.  When I finally got stopped, my thoughts then turned to how long I would be out of action for before I finally picked up my phone and called for someone to come and pick me up

I then entered the ‘fat footed twat’ era of my life.  A little like the ‘fat handed twat’ of old – the common denominator there being ‘twat’.  For two good days, I had a swollen foot that had a shape more like a half inflated condom.  Last night I managed my walk to Italian lessons without a worry and tonight, a speed walk for 45 minutes and it is feeling good – I must congratulate myself on a speedy recovery.  I will hold off the running until monday though, just to be sure.

Now the second mugging was one of those moments that you hope no-one was watching you.  The photo machine in the railway station was going to get the better of me.  After asking for directions from a policeman (all in Italian I might add), I found the machine and cursed when I saw the money slot was only for coins.  I begged some change from the café and headed for the machine. With a handful of coins I was quite spritely at feeding the damn thing but then the third coin was rejected.  I had enough time to think the words ‘what the’ before a small box popped out and landed at my feet.

Rubber Johnnies – what am I going to do with them I wondered.  Maybe I could half inflate one and stick it on my other foot so they both looked the same. Then I realised – not Johnnies but a Disney key ring with Daisy Duck on it.  I already have a use for it.

I cursed myself for a few seconds as I got in the booth and sat down, drew the curtain then realised that the money slot inside the booth also took 5 & 10 euro notes !!

Lastly, a quick hello to some old chums over in Oz – Chan, Emma & Sage.

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24/11/2013

I change the key form C to D you see to me its just a minor thing……

By hairygoose

Most probably the longest title I have ever used, and that statement reminds me of the great Eddie Vedder introducing his song ‘Elderly woman behind the counter in a small town’.  Not that I am comparing my greatness to Mr Vedder but I am curious as to why, in the last 3 days I have had 79 hits form Cyprus to my humble site.

Also had some from Canada and the States too.

So how is Italy? Something of a cluster fuck if I am honest.  The Italian mentality is to flatly deny anything is wrong, and when it is wrong, if you delay long enough – maybe, just maybe the problem will go away on its own.  Now, call me stupid but I have never had a problem go away on its own.  To make matters worse, the boat is italian built so has a shit load of problems.  On top of that, the guy I took over from really hasn’t done much at all, documented even less and I honestly think that he doesn’t intend to return either – he was very keen to leave me his gate pass when he left.

But lets not dwell on that – on Saturday I took Dion the first officer out for a cycle ride.  It was one of those rides where your legs are cramping on the way back and every little hill feels like a mountain.  46 miles and over 8000 feet of climbing later, we got back to the boat.  I say we, I mean I got back here first, had a shower and a coffee, got a little concerned that Dion wasn’t back and headed out to find him.  Thankfully, all was well.  Genoa to Portofino return in just over 4 hours and 17 minutes

So what next – now I have just 4 working weeks left until I break for christmas, Friday 20th December I will jump in my car and head back to Brussels, a short stop for xbox, belgian beer and a run in the woods before I hot foot it to Florida for some winter sunshine courtesy of Virgin Airlines and then head back to Belgium for a week more of xbox, beer and running.

What I am really holding out for – is the end of January when I get February and March off with pay………..and that saddens me.  There used to be a time where I lived and breathed responsibility of keeping a boat alive but now I feel that is slipping and I may be turning into an also ran.

 

 

I don’t want to be an also ran

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07/11/2013

In the arse end of nowhere

By hairygoose

I had a new Italian teacher last night, so that makes a total of two in two lessons.  Not that I am scaring them off but I have since figured out that it is one teacher for language, another teacher for hand gestures.

That aside, I also figured something else out today.  This morning over breakfast, I treated myself to a little Amy Winehouse from her time on Jools Holland.  Way back in 2004, she was quite sweet and innocent, tattoo free and a fuller figure – her voice, purely magical.  A couple of songs later and the year was 2006,  the tattoos started to appear, the weight dropping, that glazed unfocused stare and of course in the background the worthless shite of a boyfriend.

Then over lunch, I happened across a BeeGees in concert movie so I stuck that on and we got to talking about the two brothers that had died.  It then hit me – you can tell how old you are by how many dead artists you have in your music library. I bet everyone has a bit of Lou Reed right? Jimmi Hendrix, Beatles, Nirvana, Joplin, Marley,Presley,Bolan, Beastie Boys, Barry White,  they very quickly add up. I would like to tell you now just how many dead artists are in my library but fear of knowing the true figure stops me counting.

Of course, it got me thinking about Winehouse. Being a hard arse, I have little sympathy for her way of life but I do fully appreciate the staggering loss of talent when she departed. I also remember when Cobain decided to take his head off with a shot gun, I never understood why. I am sure that will remain eternally unanswered but then one night many years ago while in bed in Abbey Street I was listening to Radio 1, before it got shite.  Back in the day (at 44, I am old enough to use that phrase, not like some of the spotty teens on the streets)   the evening was filled with Bob Harris (deceased) Nicky Campbell and of course the late and very very great John Peel.  Peel was hosting a show on Cobain and finished off with words along the line of feeling like he could have helped, invited him into his house to be looked after and helped through their problems – and I can’t help but think Peel was right, better still, there are many of us that would have volunteered our services to help to keep such talent alive.

But enough of that crap

Lets talk about my friend Rupert – or ‘Poopie Pants’ as he is known in Portugal.  During a recent stay in England, I talked Poopie into doing the Park Run with me on saturday morning (thank you Horley for the tip off).  For those of you unfamiliar with the Park Run, it is a weekly event ran by volunteers across the UK and 7 other countries (including S.A. Lexa) where you can run a 5k track, be timed and have your times analysed and compared by world record times, age, sex etc.   While out on a run on the prior wednesday evening, I was accompanied by the aforementioned Poopie and as we got talking I suggested he do the Parkrun with me on Saturday.  He actually agreed, I was agast and he was regretful almost instantly.  Building up to the saturday, he started to look grumpy about doing it but I kept pushing him until at 9am on an autumnal Saturday morning, the flag was dropped and we were off.  My previous 3 runs had all been personal bests and I knew I would be pushing it if I were to to another.

I never of course, I posted my slowest time ever of 23:53 but was very impressed to see Poopie coming in around 1:15 seconds behind me as a first attempt.  Now I have to admit at the time it was a bit of an eye opener.  I run a lot and I was aware that I need to pick up my pace but seeing this fucker post a time like this with a complete lack of training gave me a kick in the nuts that I needed. I did take some comfort in the fact that despite all of his moaning and groaning about not being a competitive person before the event, he did actually really enjoy it.

Since then, I can see his Runkeeper times are very respectable and I have no doubt that Poopie will be busting his nuts to get a better time than me next time we go, so I am upping the ante and have pegged a 7km course here in Genoa to ‘train’ on for my next 5k.  First time out tonight was under 35 minutes with mild poo cramps toward the end but expect that time to tumble as I naturally get quicker and time my toilet drops to perfection

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01/11/2013

Young Teen Clunge

By hairygoose

selling out?   Me ?  Never, but young teen clunge does attract plenty of traffic to my page, as does ‘Scandinavian beauties’ so lets see what happens in the next couple of days.

I just had a historical read of an old posting from 2008 about Facebook.  Funny how time passes but even back then in 2008 I was ranting about closing the account.  Glad I did too.

I would like to mention the Cooper clan again.  I know the girls are regular readers but now I am proud to announce the parents are also reading too – welcome Mon and John although I wonder if it is just Mr. C that pops in to see whats going on.  Talking of subscriptions, whatever happened to Thornham in Oz and Timothy in S.A. ? Are you ladies still reading?  Better still, closer to home, McCoy (I forget your wedded name).

Now firmly planted in Genoa, I enrolled in Italian language lessons starting next week.  I met the teacher last night, she has a huge pair of tits, unfortunately for her, they are already down by her belly button and I doubt she is 40.  More intriguing than the southerly chest was the gruff, beyond husky voice.  Kind of left me wondering if those huge swinging orbs had more hair on them than my chest but then that wouldn’t be hard now would it? I wonder if she has ever stepped on one of her nipples ?  So my lessons start on Monday and I have already started practising the hand gestures and over pronunciation of the few words of Italian that I already know. Expect me to be more dramatic next time you see me and a less skillful driver – unless of course I am driving a boat near to a small Italian island.

I also contacted the dive school in Rugby about finally taking my instructor exams.  They asked if I had completed the dry suit specialist course as the water at Stoney Cove in February would be around 4ºC.  I did explain that I could always go to the Caribbean and do it there.  Who on earth wants to go diving in 4º water when I am used to mid to late 20’s?

I do want to tempt fate for a moment here – all the ‘negativos’ that talk about how unreliable and crap Range Rovers are – I love my car.  We have now covered 18,000kms without fault.  Of course I lie there, I had to change a side light bulb before leaving Brussels – I am not really counting that in the J.D. Powers customer satisfaction survey.  It is especially lush when it comes to triggering speed cameras, either I am going too fast or the cameras also like the look of the car and want pictures.  A camera in Switzerland recently took a photo of me from the front and the rear – that was very confusing for a moment until I realised what had happened.

Tomorrow, I am hitting the hills of Genoa on my bike.  I have found nothing on line about specific tracks to ride so have had a look at maps and will head out with no particular intention and see what mischief I can get up to.  For those with Runkeeper, be sure to take  look.

 

Until then – I am available for abuse exclusively on my UK phone number

 

 

 

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29/10/2013

Road Trippin

By hairygoose

That was a tough weekend. A 5k run on saturday morning followed by a 20 something k ride around Cannock Chase on sunday, I was completely worn out.  Worst of all, I posted my slowest 5k time on saturday and had a few moments on sunday where I couldn’t be arsed to keep ahead of poopie pants and steve-o. I think at 44, I am now officially getting old.

I do have some advice for you though.  When road tripping through Belgium and Luxemburg, don’t throw your litter out of the car window.  France is the next country you will pass though – throw it out there, they thoroughly deserve it !

I still got to thinking about the people of Luxemburg and what they are collectively called but it escapes me. Italy is full of Italians, The good people of Germany are Germans, Ireland Irish, Americans a pain in the arse etc etc but what about Luxemburg?  I really need to know, if you can help in any way – please do.

My new job started today, I arrived in Genoa, Italy at 09:30 this morning in the most torrential thunder storm I have seen in ages, even the Italians were slowing down in their cars because of poor visibility.  After a monster 12 hour + drive down from Burssels, I am now completely shattered.  Had a little walk around the old docks this evening to see what has changed since the last time I was here – not much if I am honest.  I was impressed with one of the local sculptures though, it looks like a colaboration of body parts form several of the Saw movies all stitched together in the wrong order.

I also managed to kurb one of my wheels in the downpour, happy now that I never had them painted when I bought it.

thats enough for now – more exploring tomorrow

 

 

 

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