I turned 41 in a Rain Forest

Grand Etang Rain Forest, Grenada
Originally uploaded by SmithersJones.

I didn't think about it at the time. My birthday was the day before we left, or so we thought (see rant below), and to be honest it was just another day on holiday. It was only after wards thinking about it that i realised it was quite a good birthday as things go.

We spent the day driving around Grenada and visiting the Grand Etang National Park. My first time in a rain forest. The first hurdle was driving through St George's the capitol of Grenada. The roads are narrow and the drivers are obviously jedi knights (i saw too many people driving with their eyes shut for no other explanation than they were using the force). On top of this I think Grenada has 4 sets of traffic lights and 1 one way system. This is all cramed in to tardis that is St George's. And unless you want to go the long way around you have to go through.

From that point on we drove through some spectatular countryside. So spectatular that J completely forgot to take any photos. I was driving so can avoid blame here. The houses and towns that scatter the 1000ft drops of the valleys as you ascend up in to the clouds defy logic and all sense of planning legislation.

The Little Car We Hired
Originally uploaded by SmithersJones.

It was at this point that i thought to check my fuel, i.e. when there is no sign of a petrol station or the mearest hope of one. Less than a quater of a tank and decreasing. In the blind stupidity that forged the British Empire and provided endless tales of explorers dying increadibly heoric but essentially pointless deaths i ploughed on. My logic was simple. I am going up hill therefore it looks like the car is using more fuel than it is and when i get to the top its all down hill any way so it will use less fuel on the way down.

Getting increasingly higher the towns became scarcer. Eventually the decreasing number of houses evaporate, the road improves and the trees change entirely. All of a sudden you are in the rain forest. The photos I took do it no justice.

It is a fantastic place, made more special by the fact that we seemed to be only visitors. There was a lot of, wow, and oh. Then the coach parties tunrned up. So we left.

Do you know what, i was right about the petrol situation. Any way we then continued up to Greenville, i say up it was all down hill to the petrol station.

Later that evening J treated me to a meal at a restaurant called the "Rhodes" which is owned by Gary Rhodes. To those who don't know him he is a famous TV chef in Britain, bit of a twat but a damn fine chef. Which was rather nice of the old bird really;) I think i'll keep her for a bit longer.

Diving Off the Twin Sisters

Twin Sisters
Originally uploaded by SmithersJones.

One of the reasons I wanted to go to Carriacou is the diving. There are some fantastic dive sites all very easily accessible. One that I did and want to return to is the the Twin Sisters.

The Twin Sisters are two huge rocks sticking out of the sea south west of Hillsborough bay. The rocks sit on a reef that circle the rocks. On one side I believe it there is a wall going down 40 meters. The wall is suppose to be quite a dive, but reserved for the more advanced diver.

One of the challenges of this dive site is that it is situated out side of the bay and is subject to quite strong currents. I was lucky in that when we went to dive there was little current (still stronger than I had previously experienced so I was at the edge of my abilities). I have to stress the dive company I went with were extremely capable and made sure that I was safe at all times.

The objective was to drop down behind the larger rock follow the reef around until the gap and using the flow just slip through. It was fantastic to be at the base of these giant rocks 6-10 meters under the sea and to see the waves crashing against them.

I would like at this point to list all the sea flora and fauna that I saw but all can say is that I saw lots of coral (soft and hard) and some fish (big ones, little ones, blue ones, multicoloured ones and big man eating ones - alright that last one is made up). The problem is that I realised that once I got under the water that I can't tell one fish from another. But they sure were pretty.

Living the hard life

Fish Barbeque
Originally uploaded by SmithersJones.

As said below I have just speant the past couple of weeks meeting up with my future sister and brother in law. They have the misfortune to live in an unspoilt part of the Caribbean on an island called Carriacou. Too small for the all inclusive resorts such as Sandles etc i have had a fantastic two weeks.

You are able to see the real Caribean here. From the rich men in their villas to poor families in their shacks. In other places around the Carribean as you walk along people will start talking to you inorder to sell you something. Here people say good morining etc to you out of courtesy.

As i was told with a population of only 6,000 you have to say hi just incase you are related to some one. It's also the kind of place where the Government Minister for Carriacou and Petite Martinique pops out for his own take away pizza and you can bump into the Grenadian Prime Minister by accident (and not even know who the hell he is).

My time was divided between meeting, eating and drinking with my new inlaws and diving the reefs around the isalnd. The diving there is fantastic.

As per usual photos a pleanty can be found here and i'm sure your local travel agent can find Grenada and Carriacou on a map.

Zen and the Art of Aircraft Maintenance, or the journey home

They say the world is getting smaller, but at the moment i wouldnt want to travel it. Don't get me wrong if you have the luxury of spending two weeks in the Carribean then complaining about the trials and tribulations of getting there and back is churlish. That said i'm about to be churlsih.

40 BLOODY HOURS IT TOOK TO GET BACK!!!!!!!!!!!! 40. If i hadnt have turned 41 while on holiday that would have been 1 hour for every year i'd been alive. I wouldnt mind but the island of Grenada is only 7 hours away by plane. 40 sodding heat sapping soul destroying hours.

The journey back started on Thursday morning. Arrived at the airport with plenty of time, i'm the guy who tuts a lot at the people who find it amusing to be the last person on the plane and think what a hoot when they delay 200 people so they can say £20.00 on a cartoon of fags that are going to kill them. I digress. We arrived at Port Saline International Airport at 10 am local time (3 uk time) on Thursday morning. My mood was not the best any way as i had to leave a great holiday and had failed to sleep the night before - Grenada great place, but lousy airconditioning.

The Excel (hence forth known as the bastards) desk was meant to open at 10.20. From 10.15 onwards several memebers of 'the bastards' staff popped their heads out of the doors to check to see what the queue was like. It is obvious that the 20 mile sweaty long queue wasn't quite long enough for them to bother becuase it wasnt until 11.30 that they came out to play. By the way there were no signs that they was where we were meant to queue we just had faith, and a lot of BO problems.

From then on passage through to the depature lounge was actually quite easy. This should have been a warning. Plane was due to leave at 12.55 local time. So we waited and purused all 3 shops in the depature lounge. 'Enjoyed' a sandwhich from a shop that had obviosuly purchased the old british rail stock of sandwhiches in the 1980's. And waited. Another sign, that i joked about at the time, was that the cabin crew (it was a swap over point) were playing 'eye spy'. A game only ever played in dire boredom situations or to appease small children.

Approaching 12.15 an announcment was made that the flight had been diverted to Tobago ( the next point of call - it goes London, Grenada, Tobago to London). A follow up announcment is promised in 10 mins. The cabin crew in conversation tell us that this is good becuase it means that we will fly straight to London. Ok I reset my bordom threshold back 2 hours - this my calculation of how long the turn around will take.

Mean while several things start happening that i am not aware of at the time. The cabin crew start moving to the 1st class lounge and the ground crew start ringing Hotels.

The 2 hours have now passed and the follow up announcment (the one promised for 10 mins) is made, it just repeats the first and promises a further anouncment in 45 mins. By now i'm getting irritated but still have enough carribean rum in me to take the edge off - this i am sure is the reason i am currently not rotting in a Grenadian jail for attempted murder.

The notice board is amended and our flight is now listed as leaving at 17.30 local time, hmmmm.

Another hour and another wander through the 3 shops, and guess what the stock hadnt changed in the preceding hours.

I eventually notice a gaggle of people around some one an so wander over. The person they are gathered around seems to know something. It seems that there is some problem with the plane - no really, good golly gosh - a little while later the same woman with a different gaggle ( i was gaggle watching by this point). She didnt so much say it but implied that the flight had been canceled. She was joined by a man who also seemed to know something. When i and another gentleman suggested that a general announcment should be made he said, in a way that demonstarted either great wisdom or a profound lack of customer care, "you will know everything eventually." Well thank you yoda. At that point given the choice between eternal wisdom and the knowledge as to if i was going to make my connecting flight i would have chosen the latter.

I eventually approched a memeber of the cabin crew and asked them to make a general announcment and what was the position if i failed to make my connecting flight. She was under the impression that an announcment had been made and she didnt have a clue about the connecting flights. So instead she went round and spoke to people in groups and gaggles.

Rant Time: Customer care 101, infact pre-101. If there is a situation keep the customer informed. If there are a lot of them (customers that is) gather them all together and tell them what the hell is going on. Then what the options are and what you are trying to do about it. Do not do it in dribs, drabs, groups and gaggles. One person in one group may ask a question that is relvant to others not in that group. All the customers feel informed and not feel that there is the posibility that they may be missing something. ROUMOURS WILL NOT START.

The roumours started; they were going to put us up in a hotel, they were not going to put us up in a hotel, the flight had be requested to land in tobago by immigration, there was a mechanical problem, it didnt have the proper documentation, Excel staff killed JFK.

3.30 First class and Premium Economy passangers were called to the checkout desk. Our names were read and we were asked to stand on one side. We were then told to go and collect our luggage and return any duty free - you will note that at this point no one had said,

"we do apologise but due to problems we are trying to resolve your flight has been canceled, we will of course put you in a hotel until this is resolved. Here is how you contact me if i can asnwer any more question please feel free. If i can not i will endevour to find out the answer. Thank you."

4.00 we arrive at a very nice hotel to be meet by the manager who tells us more in five mins that Excel have done to this day. Accomidation, food and soft drinks are free and we can have one 3 min phone call to the uk. He will notify us as soon as he knows when the flight is to depart.

J & I unpack essentials, shower and try and catch up on some sleep - as i said above through no fault of Excel i hadnt sleep the night before. We also had to make a phone call to BA to try and rearrange the connecting flight from London to Manchester. So we eat, sleep and waoner arround the very nice hotel not knowing if we need to relax or gett up at 3-4 in the morning to fly out etc.

And the roumours keep coming. The strongst is that the flight lacked some paper work for some work done and needed an engineer to sign it off. He was in tobago and they were going to fly him to grenada. Then they coudnt so diverted the flight to Tobago. In the mean time a Virgin 747 landed and Grenada, apparently, can only handle one big plane at a time. It then materlised, in the world of roumours, that the flight had to return to London empty to be signed off and would then come back - but they couldnt say if it was tomorrow or the day after.

Approx 10:00 pm local time a note was slid under our door saying that the flight had been re booked for 1.45 pm local time so we needed to check out of the hotel by 11.00 am the following day.

So the following day we returned to the airport, still unable to re book the connecting flight. J sister had got us the number of BA from the net. But until we knew when it was due to land we couldnt book. Eventually we worked out that it was coming from tobago so was going directly to Gatwick (landing 03.00 am (london time) which meant we could get the 6.40 am London to Manchester flight.

Trying to do this over mobile phones proved impossible. At this point I remenbered a conversation J and I had had 2 nights before about N (my Best man) I had said that he was the kind of bloke you could call on if you were in trouble anywhere in the world and he would help, and vis versa (just after he moved to london he went out and got drunk and couldnt remember what bus he needed to get back home so knowing that i had grown up in london drunk logic had him ring me to find out what bus he needed - at 2.00 in the morning i struggled to explain to a man in the clutches of alcohol induced idiocy that i hadn't lived there for 20 years and had left when i was 13). Any way N came to the rescue and despite being at work he spent an hour trying to book us tickets - most flights were booked as there was a England vs Celebrity football match being held in Manchester on saturday and it is a bank holiday, only to be eventually told that you can't book third party tickets less than 3 days in advanced. So he eventually worked out that he could reserve us seats, and did.

I have never seen a crowd of people so eager to see a plane actually land at an airport before. It was as if until they saw it they would not belive it.

Once on the plane (which left on time suprisingly) it was then a long (16 hours) and arduos journey to London and I thought nothing else could go wrong although when they requested if there was a doctor on the plane half way across the atlantic i was taking private bets with my self that we were going to be diverted - we weren't. In a final twist depature from the plane was delayed as the police came aboard, obviously looking for some rascal. Then a plane to Manchester and then a train to Huddersfield and then a taxi to my front door - that taxi driver got one big tip.

So if you think this blog is long you should try a 40 hour journey.

"...Do know when I will be back again", how wrong can you be?

After setting off to the airport, Thursday 3.00pm (uk time), in order to return home I have finally walked through my front door Saturday 9.45am (uk time). Only 24 hours later than expected. So me and the future Mrs G are a wee bit frazzled.

To add to the fried nerves of endless travel a helpful friend has just kindly texted me to point out that i only have one year exactly left as a single man....

I'm leaving on a jet plane.:)........do know when i'll be back again:(

Right, despite having to pop into work tommorow morning i'm off to chill out in the sun. I'm guessing many many many photos to follow.

In the mean time the world can go to hell in a handcart for all i care:)

A general rant about the poor standard of riding teachers

Riding is an increasingly popular past time in this country. I should also point out its not only restricted to toffs and spoilt little girls (although both types do exist). What worries me though is the standard of teaching these riders, and me, get. The majority of the better and popular schools all seem to teach according to the British Horse Society (BHS) way. The rest just seem to make it up as the go along.

I have just come back from a frustrating lesson where the 'teacher' (and I use the term loosely) spent most of the lesson chatting to her friend. There is often no attempt to explain what is required its just barked at you. Riding instructors seem to be of the same school as those who believe that when on holiday and forced to talk to foreigners who never bothered to learn English that speaking louder and slower will make them understand.

I have in the past taught. I know that the basic thing to do is ascertain the level of the pupil and what they want/need to achieve. Explain to them what your going to teach them. Explain and if possible demonstrate something and then get the pupil to try. If the pupil doesn't get it show them where you think they went wrong and ask them to do it again. Feed back to the student as to how well, or not if thats the case, they are doing in moving towards their goals. Discuss the goals with the student, make suggestions.

Using phrases that you know the meaning of doesn't mean that the student will pick it up via telepathy. Nor does shouting them over and over again. Don't expect that if some one sits on a horse and does rising trot around and around until either they or the poor horse drops dead they going to become a rider. I know people who have ridden for years. Some of them are shit riders, its just that they are now experienced shit riders.

I know i'm doing things wrong that are not being picked up on. I know there are basic things i could improve on. I know that i'm paying some one to apparently not tell me. This time i had some one video me and we are both going through the video at home in order to teach my self.

The problem is the dominance of the BHS style and the kind of person who does the teaching. There are, i'm sure, many good riding instructors out there. Its just the number of young girls who love horse but have no ability or interest in teaching. I am positive that there must be hundreds of people out there who have started learning to ride who have been put off by this amature approach. I'm also sure that there are many riders out there who could get so much more out of riding than they currently do.

Brown in Unity Call

Gordon Brown has called for unity after it has become apparent that the plotters within the labor party against Blair (that would be most of the party these days - strange after these sort of events how every one was always on the victorious side) have broken cover, see BBC story.

Now if the person who is going to benefit the most from regime change is calling for unity you know the days are numbered. A letter has been sent to the parties NEC calling for a time table for Blairs exit. I think two things are likely to happen. Tony Blair will fight to hang on. He will fail. The mood in the party has now changed and all the MP's who have been muttering in the dark are starting to talk in public. The 50 signitaries to the letter are not the usual suspects. They are not the usual left wing complainers from the Campaign group. It is the traditional Blairites who are increasingly afraid of their jobs.

The sad thing is in the 80's I was in the party and was on the side of reform. Now I'm just plain angry that I no longer recognise the party and that even getting rid of Blair will not bring it back.

The problem is the arrogance of the party these days, the attack on the civil liberties, the lies about the war, the putting at risk the lives of British Soldiers for a lie, the abuse of power in a managerial style. I wouldn't even mind if they were competent but when Charles Clarke loses 1000+ prisoners you have to doubt their ability. For too long the party has used the bogey man of, "well you wouldn't want the Tories back now would you?"

For christ sake where is the party I joined? The party that was on the side of the working people, the party that was on the side of social justices, the party that wanted to heal the divisions of a nation in debt up to its eyeballs and addicted to greed. When the hell did a Labour Prime Minister start beliveving that greed was good?

Yes the basics, the economy etc I'm happy with. But I refuse to support a leader who stood up in parliament and effectivly leid to the house of commons, the nation and too me in order to get us to go to war. The 45 minute claim was either incompetence or a lie and he should have gone then.

The core voters are feed up with him and at last the MP's are getting the message. I know in my heart of hearts he is going to fight to stay, but for god sake do the decent thing and don't go down in history as yet another Prime Minister who out stayed his welcome and didn't get the message.

The Carriacou Connection

Huddersfield West Indian Carnival
Originally uploaded by SmithersJones.

As I said below I'm off on holiday shortly to the Caribbean island of Carriacou, apparently pronounced carry-a-ko. I say holiday but it's more another step in the never ending wedding plans. J's (The future Mrs G) sister(K) and brother-in-law(S) live there and we are going to visit them.

The thing that I don't get though is that Carriacou is over 4,000 miles away in the Caribbean sea. It has a population of about 5000 and is by all accounts a wonderful place. Why do loads of people from there want to live here, I don't just mean Britain I mean West Yorkshire. I know we have a large West Indian community that came over in the 50's but I keep bumping into people from Carriacou.

A friend of mine has a neighbour from there. I was speaking to the man who owns the dive shop I go to and he was telling me that his barber is from there. A mechanic from the garage opposite him is from there. He has customers who live there but shop with him. In the West Indian carnival that is held every year in Huddersfield one of the biggest groups is from there.

I don't get it? Why would you move from a tropical island to a slightly run down Northern English former mill town? Huddersfield and Halifax are both former rich towns, in the days when the UK could afford to make things many of these things were made in the industrial north. It was the home to the Dark Satantic mills and Charles Dickens Hard Times describe their history perfectly.

Now I agree that many of the Northern mill towns are going through a regeneration but if I were leaving a tropical island I would at least head for London or New York.

I would love to know why West Yorkshire? I'm guessing that individuals will tend to go where they have reliatives or other friends from their own community but what started the connection between Huddersfield, Halifax and Carriacou?

Escape

In a couple of days I will be diving and sunning my self in paradise. And yes just in case your wondering I am gloating;) For 2 weeks I get to forget about work (Don't get me started), forget about the reality of bills etc, and definately forget the fact that the electorate of this country can't tell their arse from their elbows.

On the down side I'll still have to pay for it when I get back.

John Reid

John Reid as Home Secretary, now that some scary shit. Blunkett was unbearable, Clarke was incompetent but Reid????? Time to check my Passport and consider buying property abroad.

Nazi Scum

The problem with giving people the vote is that they use it. In several areas of the country the so called wise people of the towns have voted for the BNP, see BBC coverage. Not in large numbers but in troubling numbers. In Barking and Dagenham they are now the official opposition party on the council. In Kirklees they gained two seats and came second in a troubling number of wards.

I understand that as the Labour party has chased the Middle England floating voter so beloved of Tony Blair the traditional working class have been left behind. Like a bitter jilted lover they are turning to the thugs in suits. The people who tell them that all the problems with the world are caused by foreigners and asylum seekers. The Tories destroyed their jobs and the Labour party got elected and just ignored them. When the BNP start making true progress the guilt will be the two big parties who have decided to leave a large section of this country out in the cold.

That said any one who actually votes for the scum doesn't deserve the vote. Repeal the 1832 reform act now that's what I say.

Constitutional Duty

Right, that's my constitutionally duty done, box ticked. I had the wonderful choice of the lying bastards who took us to war on a lie, the fascist wolves in wolves clothing, the wannabe fascist economy wreckers in sheep's clothing, the wishy washy sit on the fence 'oh we're so nice vote for us' and the hippy lentil sandal weaving 'how's my karma' lot.

And to think my ancestors risked life and limb for this!

Still I voted, despite the fact its only for the local government who over the past two decade have been stripped of all power and authority so its the equivalent of voting in the biggest non entity competition (local rounds).

Ah bollocks to this I'm off on holiday soon any way.

Potential Alternatives to Democracy I

I was thinking, as you do, to what you could replace democracy with. One alternative I came up with is to use a political stock market. The idea is quite simple, and I think has some potential benefits. Any one wanting to stand for political office would submit them selves to the political equivalent of a stock exchange. Analysts would then assess the individual and give them a market value. On 'election day' the seats in any parliament would go to those individuals with the highest stock value (e.g. 100 seats to the 100 highest).

As some one, oh say Tony Blair or Charles Clarke, falls out of favour there stock price would plumit as 'ethical' investors ditched the stock. The smarter investors, however, would read the rune's and take a judgment call on the surviability of a candidate. If they were to judge that some one had some current difficulty but was likely to survive politicaly they would buy the cheaper stock and make a killing. If on the other hand the enough of the 'ethicals' drove the market downwards becuase say the candidate took us in to wars based on lies eventually they would have to be replaced.

It would also encourage new aspirent candidates to actually do something to gain political clout before getting elected. They would have to be able to impress the analysts to get a higher value. This means that we weren't electing candidates just on their promises but also on their track record. Also, to encourage a higher stock price their pay would be linked to the value of their stock.

Note to self though, insider trading should be punishable by death.