It's good to be back ...

I really wish I'd carried on walking after I left home. You can't beat a good old yomp through fields and over stiles and now I'm doing it again I realise how much I've missed it. I've not managed anything serious yet of course, just a couple of rambles really.

The first was the Mole Gap Trail 6 / 7 miles with only slight undulation and the second was the Norbury Park Circular Walk 5 miles with a couple of short steepish sections. The weather was perfect on both occasions, dry and sunny (though lots of clarts underfoot in places on the first one) but not too hot. Lots of dragon flies, butterflies, fish, ancient looking trees and lovely views to be enjoyed while eating a picnic.



I really must get a proper digital camera (definitely before I go to Peru etc, but ideally before then so I can practice - I'm not a natural photographer or photographic subject for that matter!) However easy as the walks might have been, they've been a good foray back into walking through fields of cows, stepping in clarts and the inevitable peeing in the woods ...

However, before I can 'step up' the difficulty of the walks I've got to get some proper boots - trouble is I'm even more strapped for cash this month than normal - why do bills car tax, insurance and phone bills always end up coming at the same time?, so that’ll have to wait until next month; but, as important, I need to find a walking group, or at least a couple of other people who'd like to get out and walk at the weekend.

I've been looking on the ramblers website and am aiming to go along on a couple of their 'group walks' to see what they're like. I was going to for try the 20 - 40 group which I felt sure they would have, but it’s a 20 – 30 group … How to make you feel old in one deft movement eh … Anyway, I’ll just join a local group for a couple of walks and if they seem like they're going to be the sort of walks I want to do, then I guess I'll join up. I also need to remind Mr West that we were going to embark on an expedition of some sort over the summer. Admittedly we did have the conversation on the long coach journey to and from Birmingham way back in January so he may well have forgotten, but once I've got a more walking fit, carrying kit fit and my boots worn in I will be definitely be up for it!

It was all going to be so 'romantic' …

I was going to turn 'a big birthday' on the 11th October, have a bit of a 'do' and then head off on my travels on the 14th.

Unfortunately the company I'm doing my Inca Trail trip with have had a 'bit of bother' with flights and have moved the trip dates to November, which means the romance of turning 'a big birthday' (who am I kidding, you know how old I am!) and buggering off for a couple of months has kind of been changed.  I suppose it doesn't really matter, but it does mean that I'm now going to be in Oz and NZ in December rather than November which isn't ideal.

Good news: I've discovered that Cragghoppers make ladies travelling clothing in size 8s. They also make stuff in short lengths (for short arses like me).

Bad news: they don't make short length clothing in size 8 ... Seems a bit daft to me as it would seem reasonable that you would have a fair number of the population who are just 'petite' - ie short and size 8(ish) ....

Good news: I have a contingency plan - buy the grown up length convertible trousers in size 8, but always wear them in the converted to 'Capri length', mode - which is about full length on me!  

Bad news - they're out of stock in all the colours I like...

Ah well I've got a few months left to get kitted out! Though the sooner I get my boots the better ...

Is it strange that I'm getting quite misty eyed about finding my perfect pair of boots? Back in my hiking days - yes I have done it before! However, somehow marriage, work and a different set of personal priorities meant that I didn't pursue something that I now recognise to be something that I wish I hadn't sidelined ... You live and learn!  Well … back in my hiking days, I had a lovely pair of boots which I had walked extensively in, which had a bit cut out to cater for my peculiarly connected Achilles tendon, and which NEVER gave me blisters.

They wore out, in spite of the Bloominjools attentive dubbins'ing ... However, I'm hoping that 20 years on (my God, did I say 20 years??) that technology has moved on and that I will find enlightenment with a new pair of boots. What's the betting they're hideously expensive....? Much more expensive than my usual style of boot I would guess.

I will let you know!

Its just not me. Is it?

So, you know I'm doing this Inca Trail thing? Why is it I'm more worried about what to wear than anything else?

So far all the horror stories about altitude sickness haven't really bothered me - I'll follow all the acclimatisation guidelines, make sure I've trained properly and if it happens it happens.

I'm not worried about blisters - I'll make sure I really walk my boots in and have proper socks and all that.

I'm not worried about not being fit enough - I have a good diet and a PPT. I've already programmed my walking schedule into the diary and am really looking forward to all the lovely walking I'm going to be doing over the next 4 months.

I'm not really worried about the eating situation - I'll manage one way or another.

I'm slightly concerned about the circle with no end, as I'm not sure at which point in the circle the trips kicks off ... But hey, there's nowt I can do about that, I'll just have to hope my new regime of Soya isoflavones are helping by then ...

No, what I'm worrying about is the clothes. I'm looking on websites for trekking kit and I can't find any decent trouser type bits (ie. that are quick drying, breathable, repel bugs and all that malarkey) that are under a size 10! Maybe I haven't looked hard enough ... The last thing I need to be worrying about is whether my trousers are going to fall down half way along the Warmiwanusca Pass or that they are so voluminous that they act as some kind of sail mechanism and I get blown off the ridge at Phuyupatamarca.


Warmiwanusca Pass and Phuyupatamarca

Also, I just don't look like a trekker. I don't have ruddy healthy cheeks, I don't have a sturdy looking frame (though I'm stronger than I look!) and I realise today that I don't have trekking type jewellery which seems to be required. I was admiring a girl's rucksack on the train earlier on and realised as I noted her ethnic bracelets that I've just never had that travelling look. I'm the girl in boot cut pink cords, high heeled boots and a full length leather (Trinity) coat. Am I just going to look really stupid on this trip? Probably ... And especially likely if my trousers fall down.

Styling help has never been needed as much as it is now, and if at the very least someone could point me in the direction of some decent walking trousers in a size 6/8 then that would be a start!

The circle without an end

You'd think I'd have cottoned on by now ...

Yes, I did drink too much before eating, but it was actually my Thursday headache, masquerading as a hangover headache. I didn't spot it because it started on a Wednesday - doh! Anyway, two happy days later it was all gone - slurring of words, blurry vision and general screaming head banished until next month. Phew!

Now I just have to look forward to the next round; 7 days of excessive irritability mixed with tears and basic lack of brain function, followed by 2 days looking like a question mark (?), 2 days just feeling wiped out, followed by the 2 day Thursday headache ...

Hey ho, 14 days of 'freedom' left ...

I just can't hack it any more ...

I really must remember that when I'm going out on a school night I should introduce food into the proceedings much sooner than happened last night. To be fair, the lovely Jane and I did actually manage to eat this time - in a restaurant chosen by virtue of it having two items on the menu that I could eat and that we were both busting for a pee so needed to get in somewhere and use the facilities! The last time we met for food we never actually made it out of the pub...

However, for me, in my aging state, (Catster's worries about finding a single grey hair are nothing compared to the plethora of pesky white crinkly buggers I find on a daily basis indeed I fear that a Mallen streak is not far off), the food came in round about 2 glasses too late!  Consequence of that is that in spite of drinking what is with food normally a perfectly acceptable quantity for me, I felt pretty damn hammered and am a wee bit fragile this morning.  Not good on a work day…

So next time, I either have to insist that we meet at the restaurant, or make sure I drink mainly soft drinks until such time as we get there.  Yeah right...

Hmmmmm update …

So, I’ve had confirmation from a chap at the company who are contracted by the Council to do the recycling collection; and I am definitely not entitled to a recycling collection. This is because (me living in a flat and all) it involves leaving a box on the street, and someone might fall over it. If I were to leave the box in the street and someone fell over it, apparently I would be responsible for any damages claimed by anyone that might be injured. I am however required (for the time being) to put my bin out in the street.

BloominJools: “Is that because it is big enough for someone to see and wouldn’t be considered by the council to be a trip hazard?”
Council contractor: “I guess so.”
BloominJools: “Would I however be responsible for someone being mown down by a passing motorist because a person with a double buggy has had to go onto the road to get past the bin?”
Council contractor: “………” he didn’t know the answer to that.

Council Contractor: “However, they’re going to be changing things so that you don’t have to put your bin on the street, because not all flats have a bin. They‘re going to have bag collections instead.”
BloominJools: “Hmmm … but wouldn’t a pile of rubbish bags on the street be a trip hazard?
Council contractor: “I don’t’ think so”
BloominJools: “Well then why is a green box a trip hazard and a bag of rubbish not?”
Council contractor: “…………” he didn’t know the answer to that.

I haven’t done my letter yet, but it will be done.

Hmmmmmmm

Because I live in a flat in my particular road it appears that I am not 'entitled' to a recycling collection. I'm also not entitled to a council bin. In fact if it wasn't for the fact that I already have one, I would now have to go out and source my own.

It has also taken me three different phone conversations over the last month with my local council to finally establish what day my ordinary refuse collection is. In fact at one point I thought they were going to say that I wasn't even entitled to one of those.

I have now established after said phone conversations (no point looking at the comprehensive and informative website because that is correct for everyone in the Borough except people who live in flats in my road ...) that my collection is on a Monday and furthermore, the reason that I haven't had a collection since 10th April is because I'm now required to put my privately sourced bin out on the main street.

1. Let’s hope no-one steals said bin and


2. It would have been nice to have told that that was what I was supposed to do, and


3. I pity the next person who tries to negotiate that part of the pavement in a large wheelchair or with a double buggy ...

This is all in spite of the fact that I'm paying the same council tax as everyone else in my council tax band and, you'll be as pleased as me to hear, that the main reason for the increase this year was in order to fund the new recycling collection initiative - to which I am not entitled …

I can feel a strongly worded letter coming on.

A Synopsis

Because a full update would be tedious in the extreme ...

Work has really taken over since I moved into my new place and unfortunately just at the same time that we needed to get those big decorating jobs done on the house so we could get it on the market. Add to that my need to feather my new nest and to do nice stuff for me, its all been a bit manic really.

The "stuff I'd rather not have been doing" side of the coin saw me working long hours - well not as long as in a previous event managing life but still more than I should be. Its the age old thing of too much work and not enough people to do it plus my fundamental inability to let things slip ... I always end up with a really irritating sense of commitment / loyalty to my work colleagues and the people to whom we are providing the service. I would say that I wished I wasn't like it, but I don't, it’s what makes me, me. What I should be better at doing is not allowing myself to be used in this way time and time again.
Add to this the situation that when I wasn't working late I was up at the house in the evening (and Saturdays) scraping ceilings, rubbing down walls, painting, tidying garden etc. It didn't really leave much time for doing chores, nest feathering, doing nice stuff, sleeping or blogging.

Those who know me will know that I'm incapable of ignoring chores and with so many visits to the old house (nest), the need to feather my new flat (nest) (not to mention unpack!) was very strong. Basically that left me to choose between doing nice stuff, sleeping and blogging - I'm afraid doing nice stuff and sleep won in the end!

The "things I wanted to do" side of the coin lead to going to see Sinatra and then Salsa Celtica (both very spur of the moment and both very enjoyable); having lovely walks ; having various house guests - I love having people over and am currently busy considering flat warming options ... I also enjoyed a couple screenings of favourite Hollywood musicals at a work mate’s place who has a fantastic home cinema and the joy of seeing Seven Brides for Seven Brothers in cinemascope on a big screen was something else! An almost life-size Howard Keel in the room! Lovely.

I also indulged in a lot of nest feathering and I know this is potentially boring, but there are some pics on the way …

I finally got a break for Easter and went to stay with the parentals and did absolutely nothing for 3 days. It was quite easily done actually, not like the normal me at all (there are those that reckon there should be a verb 'to Jools’ pretty much along the lines of the traditional verb 'to do') but I was shattered, so didn't Jools anything at all.

I then blew all that rest on a trip ‘Up North’ to revisit a few places from our youth. I had a lovely coastal walk from Cullercoats (lovely) to Whitley Bay (hideous! - especially on Easter Monday when it was rammed with scantily clad teens/early 20s girls and lads getting rapidly & loudly hammered). Ialso went to Beamish a fantastic museum which I haven't been to since it was very new in the 70's and which I've been meaning to re-visit for years. Thoroughly relaxing stuff.

And then back to work … Good news is that the house is on the market (still no buyer, but there’s no more work to be done on it for the time being) and now I’m fully feathered on the flat front I’m feeling decidedly less hectic; so hey, maybe I’ll manage to promote the blog back up the list!

I haven’t got an idea in my head for a story

I admit it’s been ages since I blogged – 4 weeks in fact and I will let you know what I’ve been up to in instalments otherwise its going to be a bloomin’ long blog! However, headline information is that I’ve been ‘doing’ lots. Some stuff I’ve wanted to do and some of it I didn’t and I’ve just not been able to get my head into a position where things started forming words that I could put down on paper / blog space.  

In fact, in spite of several comments over the weeks about my lack of blogging it wasn’t until I was driving home from work tonight that I started feeling like things were slotting into place and that I might stand a chance of writing it down.  This was mainly because I was thinking of the Shark’s comment yesterday on my last post and all of a sudden I heard Dinah Sheridan in my head saying “I haven’t got an idea in my head for a story, so I’m afraid there won’t be buns for tea for quite sometime.”  

This is a quote from the Lionel Jeffries 1970 film adaptation of E. Nesbit’s The Railway Children which I love, and from which I have the terrible habit of being able to find a quote for most situations ... Mum and I saw the film loads of time at the cinema because when it first came out we were moving around a lot – Dad in the forces etc – and every time we got to a new camp that was the film on in the camp cinema, we seemed to follow it around!  Curious that I’ve never got myself the video or DVD – note to self to add it to my amazon wish list!

Anyway, as soon as I heard Dinah, I suddenly seemed to be able to break the last 4 weeks down and by the time I had arrived home I had sketched out several blog instalments in my head which I will post over the next few days and hope don’t bore you all to death!

In the meantime, some of the Railway Children lines which seem to find their way into my head fairly regularly for some bizarre reason …

Perks: “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as a buttercup without it were a buttercup”

Perks:  “Perks must be about it”

Peter:  “Why’s it going so slow Mr Perks?”  (About a train coming through Oakworth Station)
Perks: “Well … its all up hill to Scotland int it”

Perks:  “Never mind the rain ladies, it’s only a shower” (it p**** is down …)

Phyllis:  “Is that blood, is that red blood, is he all killed?”

Cart Man:  “I dare say …”

Bobbie:  “It's Perks' birthday, he's 42, he says he got other things to keep than his birthday, not rabbits and secrets but the kids and the bloomin' missus.”
Mother:  “Wife and children Bobbie.”  
Bobbie:  “Same thing isn't it?”  
Phyllis:  “Bloomin' missus is a sort of a germ of endearment isn't it?”  

Bobbie: There's going to be a paperchase tomorrow. Phyllis:  Whippee! Bobbie:  The boys from the grammar school are doing it. Phyllis:  Zippee! Bobbie:  Perks says we can go by the ramp. Phyllis:  What's a paperchase?

And finally …

Bobbie:  “Daddy, my Daddy”  (cue lump in throat and general bubbling)

A new view

I'm still in boxes and what's not in boxes has been put away in no particular order there's also a suitcase somewhere with sheets and towels in, but goodness knows where. However, I'm getting there and enjoying getting everything the way I like it and am particularly looking forward to alphabeticising my cds and books – no surprises there I’m sure!

After a week of head scratching and chilly mornings I've now fathomed out the timer for the central heating; its not terrible sophisticated, on or off basically, but at least I know how it doesn't work now I've found the flippin' instruction book.

I know I should prioritise getting stuff done in doors - its bloomin' cold out at the moment after all - and I've really got to stop 'treating myself'; but as I sit here in my favourite chair (yes I got to bring it with me) looking at my new double aspect view - a lovely skylight from which I can see the clouds scudding hectically across the sky and my back garden (well back yard really!) which has a pile of empty pots in it left by the previous tenant - I'm really fancying planting a load of them up so I've got a progression of colours, scents and textures to look forward to over the next months. I'll hopefully be taking delivery of my pots from home sometime this week, so at least I'll have my summer stuff to look forward to, but I'm really going to have to resist the temptation to nip into the garden centre and buy a pre-planted pot of bulbs or two! I've treated myself enough already this month and it has to stop!

I got my desk from the house yesterday which I managed to dismantle, transport to the flat and then rebuild all by myself! I’m very chuffed about that because it’s a big old brute – the PPT would have been proud! So the plan for today (post blog) is to carry on emptying bags and boxes, have a spot of lunch, a soak in the bath and wash my hair - which can be straightened for the first time in weeks now that I’ve located the straightening irons(!) – and then head off for drinks, dinner and an old Deanna Durbin movie with a friend from work. What a lovely Sunday.

Motion away or motion towards?

I don't usually run away from things - well I don't think I do anyway. I kind of swing between a tendancy to stick with and battle with stuff longer than I should (my 14 years with the same employer would be a good example of that) or make myself tackle difficult stuff head on (my decision to take a job in a box office in my early 20s when I had a telephone phobia would be a good example of that). However, in retrospect I was beginning to wonder whether "run away" was what I did last weekend.

The ever pressing issue of TEH's living arrangements (or rather lack of them) hastened the need for me to find my own place and so, in a needs must kind of fashion, I decided to take a flat which is bigger than I was planning, but in all other areas fits my list of requirements splendidly. Not that I mind the extra space you understand, but lets just say that my 4 monthly haircut may need to stretch to 5 / 6 and hermit status may be finally be achieved just at the point when I want to be out and about ... Sigh.

While I say that this decision was hastened, it was actually very timely. I already knew that I had to get out of the house, that was clear, but from where I'm sitting now I can see how stretched thin and wound up I had become, which meant that when the day came to move it was almost like I ran away from my lovely home.

I was determined to get as much of my stuff out as possible all in the one weekend so I didn't have to keep going back, that just felt like it would be too painful, so this meant a manic 3 trips in the TEH's van and 4 trips in my car. The last car trip was the one with my clothes in it, all just taken from the rails on their hangers so they could be put straight on hanging rails at the other end thus removing the need to fold and pack, good plan huh? However, when feeling more like me, I would have done the job much more carefully, grouping stuff and clipping the hanger hooks together, covering with bin liners etc, however it was all just thrown in the back of the car - randomly ... I don't normally do random! It's not me at all.

The rest of the weekend was spent with the help of the parentals who arrived in the evening with some furniture, an amp and speakers and food - I hadn't had any all day so this was particularly welcome at this stage of the proceedings. They stayed with me all weekend and did general Mum and Dad stuff. Mum cleaned the kitchen and put my stuff away, and Dad put together flat packed furniture and hung curtains. They also supportively wandered round Ikea with me and witnessed my scary bill at the other end - remarkable how buying basics at a fiver each mounts up unexpectedly ... Anyway, I wouldn't have managed without them and I feel bad that at a time when I guess they could have expected their older daughter to be settled and that they'd be grandparents maybe (they'd be good at that), they're suddenly back to standing as guarantor on my flat, lending me furniture and helping me move etc.

So anyway, with a lot of help I'm in the new place, feeling calm and contented in a way I haven't for a VERY long time and looking back at the weekend I now think that it wasn't 'motion away', but more like 'motion towards' (nod to Eddie Izzard there). 'Motion towards' my new life - which has got to be a positive thing, whatever it holds.

What are you supposed to do with the photographs?

Being back in the house is a double edged sword really.  I love my home, but that’s exactly what makes it so painful.  The aim is to get it on the market by the end of the month, and in order to do that there is a certain amount of work that needs to be done – cracks to be filled, architrave to put up, walls to be painted, garden to be tidied up after the winter period and made to look appealing and presentable.  And that’s just it; I’m spending time in my home preparing it for someone else.  

I cut back my hydrangea the other week and generally pruned and weeded and as usual found it immensely satisfying and rewarding, right up until the point where I realised that I wouldn’t actually be there to see my garden come into flower, I wouldn’t be there to sit and take in the smells and look at my view from the comfort of a squishy lounger and a glass of Pinot.  That was when I realised that I had to get out as soon as I can.  Then to add even more urgency to this decision TEH’s living arrangements came to an abrupt end and consequently has been living out of a suitcase with various friends, who may cease to be friends if this goes on much longer …

I’ve been looking at flats, but it needs to be something I can be comfortable in for a good 8 months ie. up until the Inca Trail and whatever lies beyond; there’s no way of knowing how long it’s going to take to sell the house after all. It also needs to be something that TEH and I can afford between us, on top of what we already pay on the mortgage etc and without both of us turning into hermits …  Not an easy task as I discovered.  There really are some grim places out there.  My pre-requisites are proving somewhat elusive:

• Ground floor or maximum 1st floor (Unpacking shopping …)


• Studio or 1 bed (if a studio I want one big enough to have a separate bed rather than a sofa bed)


• Gas Central heating (heating!!!)


• Washer, fridge, freezer, oven & hob


• Somewhere to park the bloomin’ car

But which ever way I look at it, the process of moving out (properly this time) whether it be in 2 weeks or 2 months, is going to be a painful one.  I’ve made a start on packing up my stuff, but of course, in order to identify my stuff it means sorting through our stuff and I keep coming across memories all wrapped up in inanimate objects.  For example I have just packed up a box of children’s books.  The emotions packed away in that box are just phenomenal and an experience I don’t want to revisit for a wee while.

Strangely CD’s have been the easiest job – not sure why that is.  Maybe because modern technology has taken the angst out of decisions about whose is whose etc – just copy the damn things.  There are 5 piles:

• Mine


• TEH’s


• Mine that I think TEH would like a copy of


• TEH’s that I would like a copy of


• Pile that we can’t remember who’s they are – they were just ours.  Solution for this one – copy them all and then have a lucky dip for originals.

But I think the worst job, and the one which I keep skirting round, is what are you supposed to do with the photographs?  I think I’ll leave it there …

Well that’s the last of the Christmas cake then …

It’s amazing how long it lasted really – probably because I was away in Germany for a couple of weeks and forgot to take some with me – but either way I’ll miss my slice of cake for elevenses!

That was the week and a half that was.

Well, I’ve pretty much settled back into life in the house – I’ve really missed it and I hadn’t really admitted to myself how much, so I’m going to try and enjoy it while it lasts. Mind you, bearing in mind that the plan is to get the place on the market by the end of February that might not be as long as I would like.

The last Requiem was another good one – I’m sorry it must be boring me saying that every time! Sadly Elizabeth Jansson, the Alto soloist who toured with us couldn’t do the concert because she was ill (tour cold got everywhere it would seem), so Catherine Wynn-Rogers stepped in. She was really good, but it was really disappointing that Elizabeth couldn’t be there with the rest of the soloists that we’d toured with.

It was a long old day – up to Birmingham on the coach and then back to London after the concert – but it was good to get together with everyone again and make commitments to meet up for photo swapping, trekking (practice runs for my Peru trip) and general social stuff. Keeping it real, our time keeping challenged members came up trumps with an unscheduled loo stop on the way up the motorway; well, we had planned to stop to pick someone up from a service area, but we hadn’t planned on peanut bladdered members nipping off for a pee; it didn’t make us late or anything, but I guess it gave certain of us the opportunity to “exchange glances” etc in remembrance of the tour. (God I’m a grumpy bird sometimes!) The bus ride home was very quiet and all journey I was feeling sad about the fact that I’ll not be singing with the guys and won’t be seeing Craig and Jenny, all of whom felt like part of my family by the time I got back from Germany, for quite some time to come.

The rest of the week was pretty much as usual, too much to do etc. I feel like I’ve had a really productive week, but when I actually look at what I’ve done against what there is to do, I’m really only just scratching the surface … Ah well, I managed to get my registration form filled in and sent off for the Inca Trail nonetheless. Hurrah! Provisional dates are 14th to 23rd October. Now I just need to keep cracking with the fitness regime with the PPT, get the house sold and work out what else I want to do with the rest of my life. Easy …

Well the first step is to get the house sold, so after doing my washing, shopping and general weekend sorting out (I woke up at 6.30 am in spite of the fact that I could have had a flippin’ lie in …) I managed to sand, clean and paint the bathroom, scrub the bathroom window and blind – looks much brighter now. Tomorrow – as long as it’s not too cold – is earmarked for tidying the garden and maybe a bit of noodling on the old piano. What am I going to do with that???

A few hellos now I’m back …

Hello oven
Hello hob
Hello shower
Hello comfy bed
Hello piano
Hello speakers
Hello comfy sofa (tho’ I was quite attached to my pink chair in the flat!)
Hello tumble drier (tho’ it has already had one name-check)

And finally …

Hello wireless network and 2Mb internet connection. Heaven!

There’s no place like home

Well what a day yesterday was.  I feel like I spent the whole day flippin’ cleaning.  Whilst it wasn’t the whole day it was certainly the lion’s share of it!  I was up at 7am to do a few last bits of packing and then spent the rest of the time, until TH turned up at 10am, cleaning the flat.  You don’t grow up as a child in the forces without having the “moving out of married quarters inspection clean” instilled in you as a serious piece of work.  Now I knew that some officer clad in white gloves wasn’t going to come and undertake a full inspection which would include stroking said white gloves over every available surface, but I’m afraid the clean I did would have come up trumps even if they had!

TH’s van was packed up very quickly, so as we were running ahead of the pre-arranged key handover time he set off as an advance party.  I carried on cleaning fitfully (not much else to do really) until Lou arrived and then set off back to South East London.  TH had phoned to say that the route he had taken over Battersea Bridge had been really quick – he was back in 50 minutes, so I decided to follow suit.  Its all in the timing … By the time I was heading back – just over an hour later – whale fever had completely overtaken the Battersea Bridge area.  As soon as I hit the plethora of TV OB vans and heard the helicopters circling above I knew that I was in for a long wait.  Ah well … 2 hours later there I was back in my house, surveying the pile of unpacking that awaited and taking in, with a sinking feeling, the amount of cleaning I was going to have to do …  I shouldn’t have expected anything else really.

So, I did 4 loads of washing (oh joy unbound to be reunited with a tumble drier – what a little miracle to be able to wash dry and put stuff away all in one go – no damp washing hanging around the flat, hurrah!); unpacked all my possessions and put them away; dusted and disinfected all surfaces (no more rolling dust on the piano keys and the white sink is now white again rather than a dirty beige); hoovered all the floors; made the bed; cleaned the bathroom (a necessity if I was going to have a bath!)  

I had just about flaked out when  I received a call from BBW to see how I was doing and who, knowing my love of lists, provided me with one.  

1.  Pour a large glass of wine
2.  Run a bath
3.  Pour another glass of wine to drink in the bath
4.  Have a bath
5.  Maybe have another glass of wine – this item was optional …

Unfortunately having crossed item 1 off the list the rest of list went a bit haywire owing to a random nosebleed.  For goodness sake, I haven’t had one of those since I was in school!  Irritating as nosebleeds are in general, it would have been OK if it hadn’t lasted 45 minutes … That’s quite a long time and I was beginning to get a bit worried.  I had a call from George after 15 minutes of pinching the soft part of my nose, and who left me to it sounding a bit worried and with a request to text her when it was over.  I had a call from Lou after 20 minutes, who left me to it sounding a bit worried but then texted me the number for NHS Direct and asked me to let her know when I was over.  I had a call from BBW who didn’t sound worried at all  but who then proceeded to call me every 5 minutes to see how I was doing, to check that my brain hadn’t come out of my nose and to suggest stuffing Kleenex up my nostril.  Every bone in my body said that was a bad idea, but after 35 minutes I was ready to try anything (except having to get a cab to A&E and sit in chairs for several hours before they stuffed a tampon up my nose …), so after 10 minutes of Kleenex, the final BBW call was met with the reassuring news that it had stopped – phew …

So points 2 to 5 on the list were revised to:

2.  Drink lots of water
3.  Have a shower – felt a bit safer that having a bath …
4.  Go to bed
5.  Item 5 was always optional but was abandoned in favour of sleep

Either way, now I’m back I’ve realised that there’s no place like home (I own a pair of red shoes so feel entitled to use that expression), and whilst I feel really weird (I really can’t quantify how I feel, but its really weird), I expect I’ll get used to it – probably just in time for us to sell the house and to have to move again...!

What time's the coach?

Well, I’m back then … Back to real life with a resounding bump! (

The last concert in Stuttgart was another good one – just as well really to round off the tour!  It was followed by a wee party thrown by Neville which was a great chance to really get round and natter with lots of people, have a drink, take photos, have a drink etc etc.  I suddenly realised that this was probably the last time I would be singing Mozart Requiem with Neville (apart from the Birmingham concert) so decided to ask him to sign my score, which he did (thank you very much).  All I can say is at least I got him to sign a score which belongs to me, and not one which actually belongs to the Academy and that I believe I conducted myself with decorum and didn’t say anything daft to someone “so famous …” Those who were present will understand these veiled comments, but I won’t be any more specific here!

The wee party decamped to the hotel bar (surprise, surprise) and definitely included some dancing and another late night – but then what the hell – the coach wasn’t due to take us to the airport until 1500 so there would be a chance for a lie in.  Or maybe not … Who’s idea was it to get up early to say goodbye to the Belgian members of the chorus who had taxis booked for 0915?  We waved them off and thought about going back to bed, but the lure of breakfast was too much, so spent a good couple of hours stoking up for the day (just as well we did as we didn’t get anything apart from a paltry bag of crisps on the plane …).  The day passed quickly and before we knew it we were off to the airport; the mood incredibly subdued, as it always is when a tour comes to an end.

I got back to the flat opened my suitcase, closed my suitcase – I just didn’t have the strength to consider the implications of unpacking / re-packing to move back into my house this weekend and after defrosting a Bolognese from the freezer went to bed!

So, back to life means a return to the old melancholy it would seem: being back at work is much as I expected, but I really must stick to my resolution that I work my hours (how many years have I been saying that in different jobs); I’ve come down with the “Tour cold”, which I hope will have gone by the 28th …; and I’ve still got flippin’ swollen ankles!  Ah well, maybe once I’m back in the house and unpacked and have caught up on sleep I’ll start feeling better – either way the biggest smile I’ve had since I came back was when I got a text from Ali saying “What time’s the coach?”

Freiburg to Stuttgart

Well I've added another place to my list of places to come back to. Freiburg is beautiful, but we had so little time here, plus it was a Sunday so there was not much open. We went for a walk in the old town and managed to take in some lovely buildings, but it was desperately cold, so we didn't manage to last long and after about an hour headed back (via a cone of chips and mayo!) to the hotel to warm up before the rehearsal.

I enjoyed a luxurious soak in the bath with my book, and realised that it was my first bath since leaving London. Before you go 'oooooer, bit wiffy Jools', I've been having showers instead which has been great, as I've missed having a shower the last few months, Lou's flat only having the disturbingly pink bath etc. I have always viewed baths as something of an indulgence and find it very difficult to have a quick functional bath in the way you can have a quick functional shower in the morning before work. The temptation to wallow is tremendous, and I've been finding the whole 'body wash before work’ thing a bit stressful, so it’s been great to have some good old vigorous German showers before a concert - just the thing to pep me up. Today however, because I’d ended up with more time to play with, I decided on a spot of indulgence and hoped having a bath wouldn't make me feel too much like just going to bed after!

The concert hall was attached to the hotel we were staying in, so it meant we could get ready in our rooms again (very civilized!) and then fling on a coat and wizz round the corner to the artists entrance ready for our bit in the second half of the concert. I hate to say this again, but it was another really good concert, we just seem to keep getting better, which is saying something as it was pretty damn good when we started in Hannover. I really enjoyed the acoustic - I don't know what it sounded like out front, but it felt so easy to sing there, the notes and runs were pinging out remarkably well and it was a really enjoyable experience.

The concert was followed by an 'official' photo of the choir - a couple with Neville before he was whisked off for dinner somewhere - and the rest with Johan, and then another night cap in the bar - I have a feeling there was some dancing at one point ... Oh dear! Bed was a late one but happily we didn't have to be on the coach to our final port of call, and our final concert :-( until 1100 this morning (luxury!), so I still managed a reasonable amount of sleep which is just as well, as the route we're taking to Stuttgart is through the mountains, and is far to pretty to try and sleep through.

Munich to Freiburg

Well breakfast was a bit of a disappointment this morning ... Funny how quickly I get used to a breakfast that's nothing like my 'real life' one (toast and honey, banana and a pint of water). I was expecting the usual Maritim experience - fresh fruit and a dollop of Quark, egg and bacon, Greek yogurt with honey and a plate of cheese ham and grapes which gets transferred to my Tupperware and serves as lunch on the bus / train (I know that sounds like a terribly rude thing to do, but my excuse is there is never anything I can eat in the buffet car or service station). However, this morning, in spite of it being another Maritim, all I managed to find was 2 halves of tinned peaches, bacon and rubbery scramble and a very grainy looking yogurt (I gave that a miss actually). I did manage to get a picnic, but there were no grapes, so cherry toms and apple it had to be. Either way, it'll go down nicely with the Sekt we managed to procure for later ...

I've been to Munich before and really loved it, but unfortunately we didn't get much time there this time. It was a case of dashing in, hanging the frock up, putting on my sexy thermal vest (Munich was having a relative heat wave at -5 degrees, so I was glad of an extra layer!) and heading straight back out to have a meander down to St Michael's church and the Neue Rathaus. Unfortunately the clock only works at 1100 and 1700, and as we had to be on the coach then to go rehearsal, we didn't get to see it in action. Consequently Munich has been added to the list (blimey, it’s been a while since I wrote one of those) of places I want to come back to when I've got some leave and some money!

The concert was another cracker - the orchestra reckoned it was the best so far and along with the audience were very generous with their applause which was nice of them. We're singing really well actually, working with Johan has meant that we have rediscovered our sound; an orchestra member said it was back to the sound that it had back when it recorded the soundtrack for Amadeus, which is great. We're pretty damn tight now (always room for improvement there though), have pretty damn impressive fortes and, even more gratifyingly, increasingly controlled and soft pianissimos. Its like each section is singing as one voice, the mixture of different voices is really blending with no voices dominating the texture, which is exactly how it should be. The real shame is that we have no idea when we're going to be singing together again (apart from the final concert in this tour which happens to be in Birmingham Symphony Hall on the 28th). It would be great to get back to London and go straight into working on some challenging acapella repertoire with Johan, but that's not to be, so I'd better enjoy this while it lasts! :-(

Once back at the hotel it was luggage down to the bus again for overnight transport to Freiburg and a freezing cold stomp out to a beer Keller where Weiss beer is brewed on the premises. We resembled snowmen by the time we arrived - shoot the person who said it was 10 minute walk - it was seriously cosy in there and after my first half pint mug of Cabernet Sauvignon (I was a bit disappointed not to be able to join the others in their litre stein's of beer) I had regained the feeling in my fingers and was enjoying some silly banter ("When I'm calling you" Ali & Shaz) and serious conversation with our lovely waiter Matthias about the construction of his lederhosen ...

We were kicked out at closing time and the lovely Stephen treated us to a cab back to hotel which meant that we made it into bed with enough time to manage a luxurious 5 hours sleep and if I'm lucky I might manage to snatch another hour or so on the train. Funny how this touring lark is just a continuous cycle of eating, drinking, singing and sleeping ...

Mannheim to Munich

Oooh, I do feel better to have got that last rant off my chest! We're now 4 hours into the journey and have just had our comfort stop; my revolving, auto flush loo was somewhat arthritic in that it revolved the seat with a creaking noise and forgot to flush! I had to do that bit myself and found that I was a bit affronted that I'd had to do it - having got used to everything being so automated over here! It's going to take me ages to get used to turning a tap on to wash my hands, rather than waving them under the outlet ...

We've definitely made into Bavaria - we kind of touched the top edge of it on Wednesday on the train from Berlin to Mannheim, but this is definitely Chitty Chitty Bang Bang territory and to make it even prettier it is coated with a couple of feet of snow. It's not snowing at the moment, but the trees are covered in frost and look like swathes of brilliant white coral along the sides of the road. We've been told its - 10 degrees in Munich, so it looks like I might get the chance to wear another one of the 7 vests I brought with me ...!

The concert last night was an absolute belter (BJ nod to GVS there). The hotel was opposite the concert hall so we were able to go back to the hotel after the rehearsal and do dresses and faces in the comfort of our own rooms. Much more civilized than having to hang around at the hall and then try and get a face on along with 10 other people crowded round 1 badly lit mirror; you'd assume when designing backstage concert facilities that someone would twig that adequately lit mirrors were a pre-requisite wouldn't you ???

We then walked to the hall ready dressed and had a sneaky glass of fizz before the audience turned out for the interval. A lovely relaxed way to prepare for a show I feel. The hall is a tricky acoustic to work with - it's quite difficult to hear everything - the rest of my section in fact! It felt like I was singing solo at some points! However, it went very well and personally speaking it felt like one of my best voice nights so far. The response from the audience was great and when the lovely Johan (chorus master extraordinaire) brought the choir to its feet, we were treated to a Mannheim Stamp, which was really kind and very loud!

We were all on a bit of a high after this and because we were so close to the hotel, we made it back the bar by 2215, so there was plenty of time for several G & T's, chips and mayo (I do miss chunky HITW chips BBW) and a sing along with Ivan and Babushka the in-house "entertainment" - Volare and Rockin' all over the world (complete with air guitar) were particular favourites(!), before an "early" night - well its all relative!