Book review - The Book Of Tomorrow by Cecelia Ahern

Yeah, yeah, I know - it's 'chick lit' and I don't do 'chick lit'.

Well, I didn't, until a good friend introduced me to the writings of Cecelia Ahern. She writes the most amazing books, in a totally unique style, and from the moment you open the cover, to the moment you turn the last page, they remain glued to your fingers.

As with all of her books, you learn all you need to know about the characters, the locations, and how they arrived at the point where the story starts in the first few pages. In a few words, she has an ability to paint complete pictures to set the scenes, leaving you free from then on, to enjoy the unfolding story.

The books are always set in Ireland, and the stories are told with a wry, gentle humour, and always have a quirky little twist to them.

I'm not going to tell you anything about this story, because to do so, would be to destroy a little of the magic. Suffice it to say, that Miss Ahern has once again excelled in creating a unique tale that holds you entranced all the way through.

In her own words..........

Somehow, the books sit there, almost magically willing people to pick them up. The right person for the right book. It's as though they already know whose life they need to be a part of, how they can make a difference, how they can teach a lesson, put a smile on a face at just the right time. I think about books a lot differently now.

Rating: a very definite 5/5

New addition to the garage.....

Meet the all-new Honda VFR1200DCT



one freaky, awesome hunk of motorcycle technology. The styling takes some getting used to, but after 3 days, I think it's rather beautiful. Gear changing in both automatic and manual modes is seamless, although it does seem to change a bit too early in auto mode. But that, apparently, is to aid fuel consumption.

Is dual-clutch technology the future of motorcycling? Well, I'm not sure. The DN-01 has not grabbed everybody's interest, but I guess a lot of that is down to its more radical styling and impracticality.

The VFR is a far more practical proposition, although the luggage is not quite as spacious as it could be, and the fuel range of, at most, 150 miles, could be better on a sports-tourer.

Next to get the automatic treatment will be the venerable Gold Wing, and that, I think, could be a vast improvement over the current model.

Well, we'll see. I can't see this technology being rolled out to sports bikes yet. For one thing, the DCT adds quite a lot of weight, and for another, I think sports bike riders would prefer to remain in total manual control of their machines

I'm angry....................

yeah, you better believe it. I'm angry as hell.....................

I've just come back from one of the best solo trips away I've ever had. Me 'n the LittleInsect went doing the tourist bit in Shropshire and North/Mid Wales.

Well, one of the best trips.....except for the idiot JobsWorth on the last day, who did his best to make me feel like some inferior creature from an alien civilisation.

On the last day, I'm cruising around the coast of Wales in the late summer sunshine, and, fancying a nice cooling ice cream, I dropped down into a little place called New Quay.

New Quay is a little seaside resort, very similar to those you find in Cornwall and North Devon, where you drop down a steep hill to a tiny secluded village, with a nice sandy beach looking out over a wide bay.

I headed for the harbour looking for somewhere to park. Now, as you go along the sea front, there's a large Corporation car park off to the left. Unfortunately, it's on a very steep slope. The LittleInsect doesn't have a centre stand, so I could immediately forsee issues with getting him to stand level without toppling over, and further issues with my poorly wrists in turning him around to leave.

Immediately opposite was a small area for motorcycles. It only held about 4 bikes, and it was already full. Next to that was a long thin car park with signs saying 'cars only'. Normally when you see such signs, it's because they don't want spaces being taken by caravanettes or light commerical vehicles. In other words, they're for private vehicles only.

There was one space, so I parked the bike and headed off to the machine to get a ticket.

It's HOW MUCH????

hmmm...£2.80. Well, OK, so it's not cheap, but I did want the loo, and I did want a coffee or icecream, so.............

The ticket machine was one where you input the numbers from your registration.............647.......(wonder what they do now that UK registrations all have the same numbers according to year?)

I put the number in, followed by my hard-earned £2.80 and got my ticket.

I walked back to the Insect, and as I was putting the ticket in the holder I carry for such purposes, a red estate car pulled up behind me.............

"You can't park there. Can't you read? It says cars only"
"sorry, but I took that to mean no comms or vans etc........."

The car was unmarked, and the guy was not wearing any uniform or anything to distinguish him as having any responsibility for the car park

"Clear off. I know your type. You bikers take up all the car spaces, and never pay"
"excuse me?" I held up my parking ticket for him to see.

"how do I know you haven't taken that off a car with the same number"

hmmmm......let me see.......is there another car with the digits 647.........nope. What did I do, find one, break into it, and remove the ticket from it's windscreen?

"not likely, is it? As you can see" (showing him my holder still stuffed with tickets from previous car parks) "I always pay if there's no dedicated bike park"

"I know what you bikers are like. One of you turns up, buys a ticket, then a load more turn up and fill up all the spaces"

"I can't see any other bikes waiting to park, can you?"

"well this car park is for CARS not bikes. Go away"

"so you're saying that motorcyclists don't have the right to behave like car drivers, or the right to visit anywhere in the UK we choose, like other people?"

"that's right. Go away"

"now as far as I can see, you have 3 choices. 1) you can leave me alone. I have a legally purchased ticket, and I'm not contravening any parking regulations or bye-laws. 2) you can refund my £2.80, at which point I will be pleased to leave and never darken New Quay with my presence again. or 3) (getting my mobile phone out of my pocket) I can call the police and tell them I am a woman travelling alone, and I feel threatened................."

(actually, I couldn't get a signal on my cell phone due to the geography of the place, but he didn't think about that)

"Well I supose you'd better stay there for now, as you're being so aggressive about it, but when you leave, don't bother coming back"

Believe me, I shall NEVER go back to New Quay. Pity, because it's a smashing little place, and I shall do my best to ensure none of my friends go there either.

Bl**dy NCP. I'm in the process of contacting their head office to lodge a formal complaint about the attitude of their staff towards perfectly ordinary law-abiding citizens, who just happen to prefer 2 wheels to 4................

So, if you're reading this, DON'T GO TO NEW QUAY. ABERDOVEY IS MUCH NICER

They're not THAT bad..............

I knew there was some reason why I always choose Honda.........................

Book review - We Need To Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver

Undoubtedly, one of the best novels I have ever read, and I don't say that lightly. Despite the name, Lionel Shriver is a woman, and this book could only have been written by a woman. That doesn't mean, however, that it is 'chick lit'. Far from it, this story is hard hitting and often cruel, both in its' concept, and telling.

It is also unusual, in the fact that you start by knowing the crime that Kevin has committed, albeit in no great detail, and the story unfolds through a series of letters from his mother to his father.

Reading it, there are details of Kevin's upbringing that will strike a chord with many parents. Points where you think 'oh yes - my child was like that'. There are other details which are quite disturbing.

This is one book that I sincerely hope they never try to make into a film. There's no way a film could convey the mother's feelings towards her son, or her husband, or the guilt that she feels over Kevin's crime. Or how she tries to rebuild her life afterwards.

As the story unfolds, you feel more and more disturbed, and the final revelations are quite appalling. You're left at the end wondering if Kevin is mentally ill, or if what happened was the result of his mother's feelings towards him, or if he really was born just pure and plain evil.

Rating 5/5

Book review - The Prester Quest by Nicholas Jubber

The legend of Prester John has inspired many books over the years, both fictional and relatively factual. I say relatively, because the whole business of Prester John and the letters he supposedly wrote, is probably one huge medieval hoax.

In 1177, Pope Alexander III wrote a letter to the Priest-King of the Indies, Prester John. As his emissary he chose his physician, Master Philip. No-one knew where the legendary monarch's kingdom lay (or indeed whether he even existed) but Master Philip was undeterred. He supposedly set out from Venice.......and was never heard of again.

Centuries later, Nick Jubber found a copy of the Pope's original letter, and decided to complete Master Philip's mission and deliver the letter, albeit 824 years late. The Post Office would have been proud of him.

The resulting book is well-written, funny, and full of historical facts and detail. Probably the best bits deal with his and his companion, Mike's, travels through the Holy Land. The situation in the middle east and the eastern side of Africa today, is complex. With so many religions and variants fighting each other, and claiming vast tracts of land as their right, it's often very difficult to sort out who's who.

Nick Jubber has a way of explaining things through the eyes of the people he meets. He also compares today's situations with the happenings during the times of the Crusades, and Saladin, and finds that really, very little has changed over the passing centuries.

Probably the best section of this book, is the section devoted to the Holy Land. It does tend to flag a little, when he passes into Africa and heads ever south.

Does he find Prester John? I'll leave that for you to discover............

On the whole, this is a fast-moving narrative, with much to recommend it.

Rating 4/5

American Football

Yeah! the season's nearly upon us, and yet again, I've got tickets for the Big Game at Wembley.

Don't usually like sport (other than motorcycle racing, of course), but they started showing American Football on UK TV when my son was small, and I used to watch it with him, and got hooked.

He's a Dolphins fan. No accounting for taste, I suppose. When we started watching it, we each picked a team and had a sort of season-long competition between ourselves. I picked the Steelers, simply because I liked their colours. But I soon got really into it.

I think it's because I can understand the game. It's logical, decisive and, being a game of set plays, as easy to follow as a game of chess.

Then they started the London matches. So far, I've been lucky and managed to get tickets for us both every year. It will break my heart if the Steelers ever come over, and we don't get tickets.

So, this year, there will be him in his Dolphins shirt, sitting next to me in my Steelers Polamalu one, and we'll both be cheering on the 49ers. The atmosphere at Wembley is always amazing. Because we only get to see one live game a year, everybody there is out for a good day. Doesn't matter if it's not your team playing, it's a chance to marvel at some of the best athletes in the world, to indulge in some friendly banter with complete strangers, and enjoy the whole experience.

The guys are currently at training camp, and I would like to wish the Steel Men all the best for the coming season. Be assured, if there's a Steelers game showing on TV, I'll be there, glued to the set, oblivious to everything and everyone around me.

And Troy - what about another one of these?

And as an added extra, couldn't resist this photo (that's Troy on the right, if you didn't know), seeing as it combines two of my favourite things in life..........

Immigration

Although I'm not prejudiced in any way, shape or form, I must admit this did make me chuckle a bit............well, OK, a lot.............



Now, as I said, I'm not prejudiced, but there are far too many immigrants coming to the UK.
It doesn't matter what nationality or religion they are, these overcrowded little islands just don't have room for them.

I know that a lot come here seeking ways to better themselves, and who can blame them? We moan and gripe when things get tough, but there's people out there a whole lot worse off than ourselves. And if you were in their position, wouldn't you try to make a better life for yourself and your family?

On the other side of the coin, there are those who come here (quite often illegally), because they perceive the UK as an easy touch.

Mind - there's indigenous folk who perceive the UK as an easy touch as well. ;)

Point is, we have 3.5 million unemployed. OK, so take out the 1m or so who prefer to live off the state, rather than earn their keep, there's still a shortage of work. I work in an industry that, over the past two years, has seen over 60% of all its' work outsourced to the growing eastern economies, particularly India. This has only served to worsen the economy back home.

I'm not stupid. I understand the logical choice of employers to do this, but it hasn't helped. And now, with a virtually open door policy that permits European residents to live and work where ever they choose, the poor old UK is bursting at the seams.

Our National Health Service (one of the 'institutions' that foreigners find so admirable) is stretched to the limit - to the point where it is often cheaper, and quicker for people to go abroad for treatment. And after the recent world financial market debacle, and the current cutbacks to pay off the UK debt mountain, things are not going to get better any time soon.

I've not got any answers, I'm no economist, but I do care, and I am worried. I'm getting to the end of my working career, and indeed, my '4 score years and ten'. But what will the future hold for my son? Or his children, should he ever find the right woman......................

From where I'm sitting, the future is not Orange, it's not even bright..........................

See.........

I don't know who wrote this, or where it originated. If I've infringed anyone's copyright, I'm sorry. If I knew who you are, I would give you full credit - for voicing what every single motorcyclist feels, and fears


SEE

I saw you,
hug your purse closer to you in the grocery store line.
But, you didn't see me,
put an extra £10.00 in the collection plate last Sunday.

I saw you,
pull your child closer when we passed each other on the sidewalk.
But, you didn't see me,
playing Santa at the local mall.

I saw you,
change your mind about going into the restaurant.
But, you didn't see me,
attending a meeting to raise more money for the hurricane relief.

I saw you,
roll up your window and shake your head when I drove by.
But, you didn't see me,
driving behind you when you flicked your cigarette butt out the car window.

I saw you,
frown at me when I smiled at your children.
But, you didn't see me,
when I took time off from work to run toys to the homeless.

I saw you,
stare at my long hair.
But, you didn't see me,
and my friends cut ten inches off for Locks of Love.

I saw you,
roll your eyes at our leather coats and gloves.
But, you didn't see me,
and my brothers donate our old coats and gloves to those that had none.

I saw you,
look in fright at my tattoos.
But, you didn't see me,
cry as my children were born and have their names written over and in my
heart.

I saw you,
change lanes while rushing off to go somewhere.
But, you didn't see me,
going home to be with my family.

I saw you,
complain about how loud and noisy our bikes can be.
But, you didn't see me,
when you were changing the CD and drifted into my lane.

I saw you,
yelling at your kids in the car.
But, you didn't see me,
pat my child's hands, knowing he was safe behind me.

I saw you,
reading the newspaper or map as you drove down the road.
But, you didn't see me,
squeeze my wife's leg when she told me to take the next turn.

I saw you,
race down the road in the rain.
But, you didn't see me,
get soaked to the skin so my son could have the car to go on his date.

I saw you,
run the yellow light just to save a few minutes of time.
But, you didn't see me,
trying to turn right.

I saw you,
cut me off because you needed to be in the lane I was in.
But, you didn't see me,
leave the road.

I saw you,
waiting impatiently for my friends to pass.
But, you didn't see me.
I wasn't there.

I saw you,
go home to your family.
But, you didn't see me.
Because, I died that day you cut me off.

I was just a biker,.....
A person with friends and a family.
But, you didn't see me.

Done, and still to do.......

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?

I posted that, and posed the question, on an earlier blog.

I've done a lot with my short span on this earth, but I've wanted to do oh so much more. Somehow, life has conspired against me.
It's not just a lack of money, or time, although both have had their effect. Sometimes it's been a lack of somebody to share it with me. Although my husband and I do have a lot in common, and do enjoy a lot of things together, sometimes our tastes are wildly convergant.

I envy my son - he, being single, and loving travel, spends a lot of time visiting places that I would love to see.
He knows this, and always brings me back a memento, often in the form of a book, so that I can enjoy those places through him.

So, what would I like to do?
Watch an opera at the Baths Of Caracalla in Rome
Watch the sun set over Ayers Rock
Ride Route 66 from one end to the other

With retirement looming, maybe I'll get the chance to fulfil at least one of those ambitions.

Mind you, it's not always necessary to spend large amounts of money to achieve maximum satisfaction.

There have been moments I will always treasure, that have cost next-to-nothing to achieve, and others that have been totally unexpected.

Like having to camp over night unexpectedly halfway down the Rhine Valley because my travelling companion had trouble with the lights on his 1947 Vincent, and being treated to the surprise of a wonderful fireworks display taking place at the Stolzenfels Castle across the river. What could have been a very boring evening, thus transformed into a wonderful memory.

I'm a great one for sitting somewhere, and just looking at the scenery in front of me. Where I grew up, there was an escarpment nearby, with views over Romney Marsh, and out to sea. Imagine sitting there one warm evening, and as the light begins to fade, seeing a magnificent tall ship sailing quietly through the English Channel.............
And sitting up on the ruins of Tintagel Castle, listening to Arthur Bax' 'Tintagel' tone poem on my iPod, and looking out over the rocky coastline, and deep blue sea..........................

Sometimes it takes very little to please me.............