Author: Chris Riley

And now for summat different, Nowt Pie

| Chris Riley

Don’t you just love some dialects. The Yorkshire/Lancashire dialect has some beauties. Paul, coming from across the Pennines in Lancashire, uses a few of the words and sayings from time to time.  He won’t appreciate me linking the two dialects together though. He thinks they’re completely different – I think there’s so many similarities that it’s ok to link them. Without the accent these don’t sound quite ‘reet’ (right). Hopefully you’ll be able to hear them in your mind with the correct accent while reading them. Here’s a few I love:

Nowt – nothing.  My mother-in-law told me once about a relative that used to make Nowt Pie. It consisted of pastry, spread with butter and a sprinkle of sugar and spice, and topped with more pastry. When asked what was in the pie her answer was “nowt, there’s nowt in it, that’s why it’s called nowt pie.” I wonder what the dieticians would say about that one. We do have our own updated version though.

Today’s dietician’s nightmare – cinnamon palmier (nowt pie just a different shape)

Summat – something.  Is there summat wrong lass?

Nine while five.  This one had me perplexed once when at a job interview I was asked if, ‘nine while five’ suited. He meant, 9am till 5pm.

Eeh, by gum – an exclamation similar to, ‘oh my God’.

Ow do – hello

Ta-rah – good-bye

Mither – worry.  When Paul was out as a lad his mum used to lay awake mithering until she heard him arrive home.

Perhaps my favourite though is, “there’s nowt so queer as folk”. Do you remember the movie, The Full Monty. The red haired guy was spotted climbing out the window of one of the other guy’s bedroom early one morning (clearly the two had formed a gay relationship). One old guy looked at the other and said in an accent so broad many watching the film wouldn’t have understood a word he said, “there’s nowt so queer as folk”. Then realising in this case there was a double meaning to the word, ‘queer’ they both cracked up into laughter. It was a scene in the movie that would have sailed over the head of anyone not familiar with the saying. I loved that scene, I loved that movie.

I saw this movie at a premier before there was any hype. I’ve never laughed so much in my life…..

For such a small land mass the UK has an astonishing number of dialects, and localised slang. Some can be endearing, some can be grating. Do you have any you love, or any you really dislike?

Bunbury Farmer’s Market

| Chris Riley

Bunbury Farmer’s Market is no ordinary farmer’s market. It’s my favourite place to shop, and without doubt, the best of it’s kind that I’ve ever come across.

I’ll let the pictures show you why:

They sell just about everything
They support our local farmers, and they pay them a fair price
A great selection of lunch food at the coffee shop
Or  cake to have with a coffee

Everyday items, very fresh and reasonably priced

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Some produce that’s less than usual

And the exotic

Once past the fresh vegetable section we come to the gourmet butchers.

Adam the butcher takes great pride in his work

Today Mary was cooking some of Adam’s lamb creations for us to sample

There are sampling stations throughout the market. The samples are generous, and there’s no pressure to buy. The market owners believe in giving the customers a good shopping experience, without pressure. It must be working. This place is always busy, and is well known throughout the south west. We prefer to do the 130 km round trip fortnightly for our fresh produce than to use our local supermarket. The vegetables are fresher after we’ve had them for a week than they are when we first buy them at the local supermarket.

I had the privelege of doing Mary’s job for a short time a couple of years ago. I say privelege because I enjoyed it more than I’ve enjoyed any other job. Cooking, great quality food, and talking to people – now anyone who knows me knows for me that’s not work, it’s all pleasure. So why did I leave? At the end of the day I had a 60 km drive with the sun strobing through the trees on high speed country roads. I didn’t feel safe. I’ve hoped Paul would spark some interest in working there too with corresponding days. He’s a confident, and competent driver in that sort of situation. Alas – he hasn’t shown any interest. Never mind. It was good while it lasted.

Check out those tomahawk steaks

There’s always something special from the butchers counter. Fantastic in-house made sausages, gourmet meat filled pastries, and special cuts of top quality meats. Today they had some Wagyu rump steak on special for $33 a kg. They also had some wagyu scotch fillets for closer to $100 kg. We treated ourselves to a piece of the rump. The wagyu scotch fillet can wait for a special occasion treat (like winning the lotto).

After the gourmet meat counter there’s the normal meats and chickens. All the chicken is free range, and you can get thigh cutlets or breast fillets with the skin off, or on if you’d prefer it. I love the skin on my chicken and am frustrated when the supermarkets only sell skinless.

Next the deli counter
The best selection of cold meats
This cabinet full of pastries, all made in house – including their own melt in your mouth puff pastry – and there’s soups, and olives, and pates’ and pickles and sauces….. there’s just about everthing
Then to the cheese section. Their demonstrators at the cheese counter have taught me loads of things about cheese. They really know their stuff
Today on the sample table a delectable imported washed rind, oozy soft cheese. Just the way I like a soft cheese to be
Local cheddars, cheeses from all around Australia, Greek feta, italian parmesans, and some wonderful imported French cheeses. Cheeses green with sage, orange cheeses, blue cheeses, white and yellow. The best selection for a colourful cheeseboard
And what would cheese be without bread – Rolls and loaves
Gluten free too
There’s even a florist section
This was this week’s  shop which includes cupboard staples like condensed milk, golden syrup, and caraway seeds, and fridge staples like fresh milk, yogurt,  cream and butter

If you stick the items you’d normally buy from your local supermarket you’ll go home with fresher produce, and you’ll  pay less than you will most likely be paying at you supermarket. That’s if you stick to the normal items. When it comes to a quality, washed rind, imported cheese, or one of their in house made vanilla slices, well I can’t resist. Could you?  But believe me, the treats on offer at the Bunbury Farmer’s Market are worth ever cent spent, and every calorie consumed. Those vanilla slices, eating them slowly and savouring every mouthful of creamy custard and melt in your mouth butter pastry – what a pleasure!










 

The sun sets on another holiday

| Chris Riley

We had a fabulous few days away with our good friends, Kaye and Brian.

Great company

The first three days in Albany served as a great reminder of how much Albany has going for it. We’ve all promised ourselves a return visit.

So much to do in Albany, gorgeous walks, stunning beaches, and much, much more

For our final night we moved on to a farm stay, Ayr Sailean, approximately half way between Denmark and Walpole. At $23 for a powered site it was considerably cheaper than the nearby caravan parks, and is well located for sightseeing around the Denmark/Walpole area.

Farm stay camp ground

There were plenty of friendly farm animals. My Tilly enjoyed touching noses with the small pony, but then he wanted to do the ‘rear end sniff thing’.

The pony was happy to have Mr Tilly check him out, they almost rubbed noses

I was a bit worried the pony may have given him a bit of kick for his effort.

Why do dogs insist on the rear end sniff!

The sun-set for our final night was gorgeous.

The sun sets on another holiday

And after the sun set came the fire pit.

A red wine or two around the campfire to finish off

Don’t you just love a camp fire!

Damn, we forgot the marshmallows

A fabulous mini break, and time spent with a fabulous couple – a great reminder of just what a pleasure life can be.

National ANZAC Centre – Albany WA

| Chris Riley

On our second day in Albany we put Mr Tilley into doggy day care so as to be able to visit the National ANZAC Centre. The recommendation is that at least two hours would be needed.

Our last visit to Albany was early in 2014, and this interactive, museum experience wasn’t opened until November 2014 so this was our first opportunity to take a look. I’m pleased we did, and yes, at least two hours were needed.

The National ANZAC Centre overlooking King George Sound

Upon entry each visitor is given a card with the details of an actual service man or woman who left for Gallipoli, from Albany, with whom to identify. There are little screens throughout the centre on which to place the cards for details of that persons life to be revealed. We were taken through their lives from enlistment to their eventual death.

My soldier, Alan Duncan Stitt, was from Ashburton near Christchurch in NZ. I’m from Christchurch, I wonder if he served with any of my ancestors. Stitt enlisted for service on 14 August 1914. They departed from Lyttleton Harbour and sailed into King George Sound, Albany, to join a convoy of ships ready to sail away to the war. They expected to be heading to England and to be fighting on the Western Front.

They were informed whilst at sea that they would not in fact be going to England and the Western Front as anticipated. Instead they were to sail to Egypt and await further orders. The orders came and on the 25th April 1915 they landed at Gallipoli. Stitt was amongst the first to land.

He participated in all the major battles of the Gallipoli campaign and was wounded three times. In November 1915 the decision was made to abandon the peninsula. On the night of 17th December, almost eight months since the first ANZACS landed at Gallipoli, 10,000 New Zealand and Australian soldiers were  evacuated.  Stitt was in the last group.  He was there from the beginning of the Gallipoli campaign right up until the end.

Having survived Gallipoli Stitt then moved on the the Western Front where he was wounded for a fourth time. He finished his service as one of the youngest Lieutenant Colonels of the NZEF.

After the war he moved to England to marry his english sweetheart, and the two moved to Kenya in Africa. Stitt returned to active service during the second world war serving with the British forces in East Africa. He died in 1950 at the age of 56, from causes unknown.

We all know about the war, we all know about the Gallipoli landing, and we all know about the terrible toll it took on the Australian and New Zealand soldiers. To have a real soldier to follow through the campaign brought it all to life in way that no movie, nor any book has ever brought it to life before.

King George Sound was the last sight of Australia for the many soldiers who never came back

Not only can you follow your own man or woman, the museum provided a small hand held radio which links into all the photos of other soldiers and nurses and plays the relevant account of their war experiences. Some of the accounts were from letters with a voice reading the words. It was easy to imagine the accounts given were first hand.

A statue in the foyer of a soldier giving his horse a drink from his hat

The war to end all wars – most of us have only a vague idea what the first world war was all about. Who knows if the solders knew why they were fighting. But fight they did, and many died for their efforts. Those that survived came back with both physical and mental scars, and many lived for long enough, as did my soldier, to realise that the Great War that was supposed to end all wars, whilst won by the allied forces, didn’t end all wars. When will mankind learn!

Chain-saw wood carvings in Albany, WA

| Chris Riley

A chainsaw was used to carve this chainsaw

We’ve just spent three lovely nights in Albany WA with our good friends Kaye and Brian. We had a few things ear-marked to do with the first being  a visit to the Darrell Radcliffe Sculpture Drive, located at 333 Mercer Drive, Albany. There’s a sign at the gate asking visitors to remain inside their vehicle, and there’s  a donation box at the conclusion of the trail.

I’d recommend taking at least a 30 minutes to drive the trail, and stopping from time to time to look high, low, close and far away. There’s an amazing amount of sculptures. Some are very tiny and would be easy to miss, some are long and thin and close to the ground, also very easy to miss. And others are huge, and while their size makes them unmissable, the detail takes a few minutes to obsorb.

A man with his dog at his feet, and owls at his head

Take a closer look at the detail in his face

And now I’ll let the rest of the pictures speak for themselves:

Pilgrims

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This is one of many with dogs featured

Check out the chicks in the nest

Serenity of pouring water

A quiet place to read a book

The detail was superb

A honeyeater

A cowboy on his bronco

My favourite – the flute player. Look closely at his eyes, they’re carved out of the wood (not stuck on)

These are only a few of many sculptures to see. The detail was unbelievable, and to think they’ve all been carved using a chainsaw – incredible. The eyes of the flute player captured me, and was my favourite. Can you pick a favourite?

Next time you visit Albany WA, please put this place on your list. It’s amazing! And unbelievable that it’s an unsupervised, drive through place, with only a donation box at the end of the drive. Thank you Darrell Radcliffe for allowing us access to your property, and for sharing your wonderful artwork with us.

Cruise ship shore guide, tour guide – that’s me

| Chris Riley

Meet Busselton’s newest tour guide

The last cruise ship for the season sailed into Geographe Bay on 22 March this year. I have a friend who meets the ships, and acts as tour guide on the buses for a variety of the tours. Two days prior to the 22nd I received the call – the situation was desperate, there weren’t enough tour guides for the the shore excursions from the last ship of the season, would I do one? It’s easy he says. Just take their tickets, advise them of the times the bus will be leaving after each stop, and count heads when they’re all back on the bus. Yep, I think I can do that. So I agree.

He came around that night to give me a few more details including suggestions for the spiel. Three hours later I knew I’d been suckered. Of course, a spiel is required! Silly me.

I’m a bit of a chatterer that’s for sure, but a public speaker I’m definitely not. I was nervous (understatement). I spent a good few hours learning some additional facts to relate, and Paul drove the route my bus would be taking whilst I practiced a bit of a commentary.

My tour was a four hour trip around the top half of the Margaret River region. Only two stops were scheduled, one at Canal Rocks, and a long one of almost two hours in the Margaret River township. The time spent in Margaret River was free time for the tourists to explore at their own leisure.With such a big chunk of free time it made it all relatively easy compared to some of the other, more involved, tours that were leaving that day.

Wanna take the tour with me, ok buckle up, here’s how it went –

Facts provided:

Population of Busselton approximately 36,000

Geographe Bay is approximately 70 Kms wide stretching from Bunbury to Dunsborough. It’s approximately 30 metres deep at the deepest section, but only around 9 metres at the end of the jetty. That’s why the ships anchor way off shore and tenders are needed to ferry the passengers into shore.

The jetty is the longest wooden pylon jetty in the southern hemisphere. It was saved from complete demolition by the people of Busselton after it was all but destroyed in 1978 by Cyclone Alby. It’s now Busselton’s most iconic structure.

Busselton Jetty, the longest wooden pylon jetty in the southern hemisphere

The Margeret River region stretches for approximately 100kms in length, and is approximately 30kms wide.

The area includes five large towns, Busselton, Dunsborough, Augusta, Margaret River, and Cowaramup, as well as many more little villages.

Landmarks pointed out and discussed:

Canal Rocks

Canal Rocks

The Chick on a Stick at Laurence Winery

Laurence Winery’s ‘chick on a stick’

Vasse Felix Winery

The first winery to be established in the Margaret River region

The rump on the stump at Cowaramup (Cowtown)

Cowaramup’s version – ‘rump on a stump’, or ‘roast on a post’

The cows in Cowtown

There are 42 of these life size sculptures in the small town of Cowaramup (Cowtown)

and I couldn’t help but point out our own little place on our return into town.

I pointed out the most important house in Busselton – our house

Apart from that I prattled on commenting on the obvious – we’re now passing Millionaires row where the house prices range between $2,000,000 and $14,000,000. Look to your left you’ll see our deer farm with its venison farm shop. This side there’s a skate park, and over there a maze. I even pointed out two cows napping under a tree. And of course I apologised profusely for the clouds in the sky….

Thinking of previous guided tours that I’ve taken, I know I’ve heard better, and I think I’ve heard similar. I’ve certainly heard worse. I started out very nervous, with a stilted commentary trying to follow a bit of a script. About half way through my script was folded away, and that’s when the prattle started I think it went better with a bit of relaxed prattle. In fact once I relaxed it was much the same as chatting to Paul on any road trip, just commenting on the obvious, but with a few facts thrown in for good measure.

Will I do it again? You know what, I enjoyed showing tourists the places I love, so yes, I think I would. It’s a pleasure to show off our little corner of WA to the world. Next season when the cruiseliners anchor in Geographe Bay, count me in!

The year it all went pear-shaped (part three)

| Chris Riley

Our return to Australia didn’t see our lives as Grey Nomads return any time soon. We commenced the renovations on the old house in Deloraine. Our plan was to complete the inside of the house during the winter, give the outside a bit of a paint and get the gardens into some sort of shape during the summer. Then we’d be ready to get on with our travels.

There was a lot to do, and we were up for the challenge. We purchased some basic furniture to make it comfortable. We even purchased a second car so as I had something small to drive. I think we had a vague notion that we’d probably return to the house for a bit of domesticity between tenants. We had it in mind to sort out some storage for the household goods and car on the property. We could then leave our rig on the mainland where ever we happened to be and fly to Tassie, saving the expensive fuel and ferry costs to get there.

My sister, a member of one of the non main-steam religious sects, lives nearby in Launceston. We’ve always been close, and despite some internal pressure from her religious brotherhood not to associate with her worldly sister, we were enjoying spending time together. To spend time in Tassie between tenants, catching up with her from time to time was something I was looking forward to. A post script to that is that her brotherhood have since won out and she can no longer associate with her worldly sister. Something that subsequently influenced a decision down the track not to keep the Tassie house. Going there for visits between tenants had lost a lot of its appeal!

But first, back to the house. Shortly after commencing the renovations I slipped over in the garden while doing some pruning and broke my right wrist – yes, I’m right handed. This slowed down the renovations considerably. News from the UK indicated Paul’s dad was going down hill. We were doing the best we could to get on with house, and hoping Paul’s dad would come good, or at least not get worse. My wrist came out of plaster around the same time Paul’s dad went back into hospital. The news wasn’t good. Friends in the UK advised us that we needed to put plans in place to get over there. He was stabilised and then placed into respite/care.

It was clear we weren’t going to have time to chip away at the renovations at our leisure. It was also clear no time frame could be estimated for the time we were  going to need to spend in the UK. What to do – we employed help to finish off the house quickly. Paul lined an existing shed on the property which was big enough to store the household goods we’d purchased, and with no time to set up storage for the car, we sold it. A quick sale meant a considerable financial loss, but at least it was something less for us to worry about. A tenant was found. We put the rig into storage and and in October 2015 we headed to the UK. October is the end of the Tassie winter and the start of the UK winter, so back to back winters!

A couple of months with good food, and company and Paul’s dad was a different person. It was clear that having company, and someone to care for him was giving him a quality of life he couldn’t sustain on his own. We wanted to stay for however much time he had left, and my six month visa was nearing its end. I applied for an extension but that was denied. They saw no need for me to stay longer… (sore point).

We did what we could to make it easier for Pauls dad. We found him a small flat for the elderly that had some support, and we arranged for the sale of his house. We had done all we could.

We returned to Tassie at the end of March, picked up the rig, and tried to book our fare on the ferry to return to the mainland. The earliest confirmed booking was July. We tried daily for cancellations so as to get out before the winter, and eventually one came through. At an additional cost of $500 we sailed away from Tassie on Anzac Day 2016.  It was only a couple of weeks before some dreadful weather hit the small island state with record flooding. Finally, a stroke of luck! We had managed to get out in the nick of time.

We were back to our Grey Nomad travels. We moved up the East Coast trying to remain always within internet and phone cover so as to keep track of what was happening in the UK. Our travel funds were poorly depleted. Part of our original travel plans had included doing some seasonal work as we travelled. We’d had more than twelve months not working and needed to replenish….

We found work in the Gulf of Carpentaria working on a cattle station. The internet cover was dismal. We’d do a 200 km round trip once a week to Normanton so as to check emails. It was awful. Pauls dad went into hospital once again, then back into respite care. We left the job after only three weeks. The job was pretty crappy anyway – or at least the boss was.

We moved onto Katherine in the Northern Territory where our son lives, planning to stay for some seasonal work. If another urgent trip was needed to the UK, Paul was to go on his own, and I would stay with Kelvin nearby for company.

The stress of the past year had taken its toll though. A house came up for sale at a good price in Busselton, and somehow to have the security of living in a home was outweighing our dream life of travelling around like vagabonds. We bought the house, sight unseen, and our dream of Grey Nomading our way around Australia for a minimum of seven years came to an end.

Postscript: Paul’s dad passed away four months after we moved into our Busselton house. We’ve since sold the house in Tassie to the tenant, and even made a very small profit. Our big rig has been replaced with a smaller rig for part time travel only. We’ve now lived in Busselton for two and a half years, and have made some great friends here. It’s not the life we had planned for ourselves back in 2013. Perhaps it’s a better life, who knows! All’s well that ends well – we’re content.

The year it all went pear shaped (part two)

| Chris Riley

Our departure day for Rome was only a few days away when Paul’s dad became ill. He was so weak he couldn’t get out of his chair without help. A visit to the Doctor and  antibiotics were started. An appointment was made for two days time (the day before our departure was due).

Before I carry on with this story I’ll point out that Paul is an only child. His dad had no-one else to care for him, and I mean absolutely no-one. When we were in Australia and things went wrong for him he would be hospitalised, or put into a respite centre until he was on his feet again. But on this occasion we were there. We took him back for his follow up appointment – he was no better. He still couldn’t get himself out of a chair unaided. His Doctor,  knowing we were due to leave the next day, arranged immediately for the receptionist to type up a letter for the travel insurance. To leave his dad was out of the question, and as we were there on this occasion, putting him into hospital was also out of the question.

We called the tour company and cancelled. Of course at such short notice it was impossible to onsell our tour places. We hoped we wouldn’t have trouble being re-imbursed with our travel insurance!

We had not only the tour booked and paid for, but also hotels in Rome and Naples pre and post tour. We had first class tickets booked and paid for on the Euro star, and we had our return flight booked from Italy back to Manchester. Paul’s dad recovered, so we decided we’d try and still get to Italy for the  week of my birthday, and use what we could from our original bookings. At this point we additionally booked and paid for a tour of Pompei, some extra hotel accommodation, and a tour of the colleseum.

Our flight was due to depart Manchester around 6am. We slept in, but still had time to drop our hire car off and get to the airport on time. We arrived with what we thought was around a half hour to spare. Rather than go and check in immediately we dwadled around stopping to  exchange pounds for euros at the money exchange counter. I don’t know what we were thinking, or if we were thinking at all. Let me point out here that Paul and I both have the phillosophy that to be on time is to be late. We’re always early, and in the case of flghts we allow an extra hour. I can only think that because of the close proximity of all the countries in Europe we must have been thinking the arrival times pre-flight were the same as a domestic Australian flight. We weren’t thinking of it as international that’s for sure.

If you haven’t guessed by now, we missed the bloody flight!  Boarding was closed, the next  available flight to Rome was 36 hours later leaving from Glasgow. I was ashen! I  still have trouble believing that we, of all people, missed a flight. That just isn’t like us.

So, what to do now. Italy was out of the question. I wasn’t going back to Paul’s dad’s, so where to go. We decided on the Cotswolds. We collected the hire car and set off in stunned, stony silence. The tourist bureau was super busy – it was school holidays. All reasonably priced accommodation had been taken. We left, and drove around looking for somewhere that had a bed. We found a manor house hotel in a village called Lower Slaughter. I kid you not – there’s both an Upper, and a Lower Slaughter in the Cotswolds, and they’re actually gorgeous little quaint places, despite the ghastly names.  On this occasion though I could have been staying at Buckingham Palace and wouldn’t have been impressed.

Yes, the manor house hotel had a bed for approximately $500 Australian a night. No wonder it wasn’t booked out for the school holidays – Paul looked at me, what did I think? My answer was a very despondent, “I don’t care”. And I didn’t, I just wanted four walls around me so as I could cry.

We stayed for two nights in the most gorgeous accommodation I’ve most likely ever stayed in (absolutely wasted on us both at that point in time), and I cried. It doesn’t end there though. Even the best of accommodation can get things wrong!

The room was massive, as was the bed. The en-suite was all marble and huge, with double vanities, spa bath and double shower. The bed had a rather heavy bedspread on it, which i folded back only to discover some very large and rather unsavoury stains on the underside. They were clean stains, but stains all the same. I folded the bedspread in the corner of the room with the stains clearly visable, and told them at reception to make sure the bedspread wasn’t put back on the bed. We returned from an outing the next day, and you guessed it – the bedspread was back on the bed! The last straw!!!

Down to reception I marched. Paul ducked for cover. “WHERE’S THE DUTY MANAGER”, I demanded. The duty manager appeared. “COME WITH ME” I ordered, and marched him upstairs to our room. I’d had a good few days of disappointments the likes of which I’d never experienced before – let’s just say my fury was tangible. The manager was most apologetic and humble. Were we eating in the restaurant that night – he would make it up to us!

We arrived for our dinner reservation and were met by the manager who led us to the best seat in the restaurant. Neither of us were much in the mood for drinking, but I ordered a glass of bubbly, and Paul a glass of red. They had a tasting menu (in Australia a degustation menu). Not wanting to make any choices we opted for the tasting menu. I think from memory it was around seven small courses. I couldn’t tell you what they were, I’m sure it was very nice, but totally wasted on me.

The next day we went to pay our bill, expecting the meal would have been gratuitous as compensation for the bedspread. But no, only the glass of bubbly and the glass of red wine had been omitted from the bill. Again Paul ducked for cover while I let them have it with both barrels blazing. Needless to say our meals did end up being struck off the bill.

So that was how I celebrated my 60th birthday. The next day we checked out and hid out for a few days in Portsmouth at Paul’s cousin’s house until the date we were due to return from Italy. Then we went back to Paul’s dad’s.

We returned to Tassie via Melbourne. Paul booked a hotel in Melbourne for a couple of nights, forgetting he’d already booked a different hotel. We didn’t realise the mistake until the visa came through with the charges on it. Then, back in Tassie we attempted to claim the cost of the tour back on insurance. If Paul’s dad had lived in Australia it would have been covered. But a sick relative that lived outside Australia wasn’t.  We tried,  but it was clearly written in policy – we didn’t have a leg to stand on.

At this stage it was feeling like we’d have had more fun taking a suitcase of bank notes to the top of the Eiffel Tower and throwing them off. I think it would have cost us less.

So that’s part two of, ‘the year it all went pear shaped’. But wait – there’s more. Stay tuned for part three….