Before the mists of time remove the memory of......
After such a great escape (albeit 3 days worth) that readjustment back to routine is quite a bind. You go away to recharge your batteries and you do, but come back topped up with a little extra ennui for good measure. Quel dommage.
I digress, 3 go off to Keswick.
Having started off very poorly with slapped wrists for flagging down Wright's Coach at the 'wrong' pick up point and then misplacing or not getting our two open return tickets, we sat down to get comfortable. We managed one local bus stop on our journey before we saw Dad. He'd made the effort to the top of Southway bank to wave us off. That gesture stayed with me all weekend; it took some effort on his part and it was plain he couldn't see us as we passed in a darkened coach. We waved for what good it did.
Back to the pick up; for many years now we had boarded at Denton Burn library without any unpleasantries. Seems they've moved the goalposts and despite making my case at the front of the coach, I was told firmly & politely that he had a timetable to keep & in the confusion no ticket was handed out to me and my 'skin & blister'. I addressed the issue at the stopping point of Alston about an hour and a half after our 9.30ish pick up. I was told to expect a little note and the promise that the other driver on our return would honour our journey back as he couldn't give out a fresh ticket! Smell a rat? Well, without pointing any fingers, they probably get a pittance for the journey anyway, so good luck to them. We'd paid our fare & that was that.
Edna & Gillian had come prepared with two elasticated & magnetized wristbands each to combat their aversion to travel sickness; me, I had an MP3 player - much more fun! Alston came and went, Hartside Pass was negotiated in gorgeous weather and we reached Keswick via Penrith & Greystoke by about 12.40.
The B&B. None of us had much luggage but no one had the facility for wheeling what we did have so despite its lack of weight we eventually found Eskin Street feeling a little tired. Carol & Kev were mein hosts, from Hull originally as we were to find out later, and very ameanable they were too. Cranford House is definately a good choice for a short B&B stay (mind you, renting a cottage is quite probably cheaper over a longer stay)
Lunch, Keswick had finally sucumbed to outside influence with a JD Wetherspoons occupying the site of the old Police Station under the curious name of "The Chief Justice of the Common Pleas". We sampled the environment and left in search of something else. We hit on an American diner further down the main thoroughfare; great service, good food and the music was fine too. We were all in fine mood looking forward to what we knew Keswick had to offer on a bright sunny day and hopefully the following two.
Mother was keen not to stop us doing our own thing and I think we managed a compromise that everybody enjoyed. I got an opportunity to watch some Federer at the local sports bar whilst they sampled the Saturday Market place; a couple of drinks or three round Keswick on the Saturday night with sis and an introduction to Crown Green bowling on the Sunday for Mum and sis.
Walking reasonable distances was the order of the weekend and none better than when we chose to check out the menu at the Pheasant round the back of Fitz Park on Crossthwaite Street. Everybody greets everybody as you pass and the sounds of the river and the backdrop are so relaxing as to make a good time almost inevitable. Punctuated by two phonecalls to Dad to check on his welfare and then watching the world go by from park benches, it really was just what the doctor ordered. We ate well and probably too often but the shackles were off and all the domestic frustration was forgotten for the meantime.
The trip back was to be eventful; having got on the coach without problem on Sunday at 4.20, it started to rain heavily as we left Keswick. It became torrential with only intermittent pauses as we negotiated Hartside and aproached a calmer Alston. Hexham, by contrast, was a deluge and despite the roads camber, the main bus route was covered by water and we were greeted by the occassional light display as we journeyed on. Mother was beset by travel sickness by this time and we had had to stop at Haydon Bridge so she could get some air. Getting off at Lemington Road Ends, we had to wait for a local bus to take us just two stops in the pouring rain and we arrived home damp, a good deal colder, but still having enjoyed a good time in good company. PS Thanks to Rob for going out in rotten weather to see we all made it safely home. Appreciated that.
Sunday, 12 July 2015
Monday, 4 May 2015
Customer surface?
Just after a rather glorious Easter, 12-15 unsuspecting clients of the Government's Work Programme, plus me, were ushered into Avanta's downstairs facility. A deep descent down some unforgiving steps and into a bright classroom with fully functioning flipchart and white board.
Greeted by a fairly nervous looking course tutor, our disquiet soon became evident as we recounted tales of having been brought here under false pretences. It was all mandatory, we knew that, but we had been duped into a Num & Lit test a few days earlier and on the back of fuzzy heads and distraction, we all had signed our life away to what we later found out was New Deal. We were given the minimum of surface details. Little transparency there then.
Now, apparently New Deal has a separate funding mechanism and renders you temporarily off your existing benefits, only for all hell to break loose when the course finishes as you chase your tail making sure that Mortgage Interest payments are restored and Council tax arrangements are in order. No information was forthcoming from anyone, the onus was enivitably on yourself to find out & resolve.
Lisa Turnbull, she was called, fighting for her life, trying desperately to believe in the words she was spouting, was trying to steer the course onto calmer waters. None of us wanted to be there and by mid afternoon, my head was fried; couldn't concentrate, it was all going over my head in an atmosphere of intimidation, cocky bravado and general disruption.
People were facing sanctions for not turning up the following day, as I just decided to make the best of a bad imovable situation. 11days of 'Introduction to Customer Service', shortly before a General Election, suggested a propaganda tactic to me; massaging government employment figures whilst teaching skills to the great unwashed of Newcastle upon Tyne.
By the third day, I was lucky enough to escape to a decidely less fraught scenario of a Basic Digital Photography course up the road in Newcastle's Ridley Place for the afternoon. Here everyone was treated with respect, offered tea and coffee, encouraged and helped, through the soothing tones of one by the name of Michelle. Trouble was I was still returning home to a fitfull night's sleep, having retired around 7.30pm mentally drained from the day's stresses.
It was to gradually get better, the course eventually pared down to 5 hard core participants and we rubbed along and took some solace in the anarchic meanderings of John Purvis, who was to eventually leave before the end having secured his own employment outside the remit of Avanta.
Role play scenarios, attempts at artistic posters, semi-agreable teamwork and a certain amount of pressure to sign up to call centre work. These were all added to the pot along with a densely repetative ring file of course work that would eventually contain some of my best prescriptive handwriting!
I signed up to discarding the file after finishing the course, I would never refer to it, even though I slightly question my actions now. Wise after the event?
Positives? - met some decent people and realised that I need contact with the public more than I thought, particularly if in the same boat. The discipline of having a purpose to the day, getting up and getting somewhere for a specific deadline was beneficial, but I'm still a maverick that wants my own way, if not the responsibility that goes with it.
Up the workers!
Greeted by a fairly nervous looking course tutor, our disquiet soon became evident as we recounted tales of having been brought here under false pretences. It was all mandatory, we knew that, but we had been duped into a Num & Lit test a few days earlier and on the back of fuzzy heads and distraction, we all had signed our life away to what we later found out was New Deal. We were given the minimum of surface details. Little transparency there then.
Now, apparently New Deal has a separate funding mechanism and renders you temporarily off your existing benefits, only for all hell to break loose when the course finishes as you chase your tail making sure that Mortgage Interest payments are restored and Council tax arrangements are in order. No information was forthcoming from anyone, the onus was enivitably on yourself to find out & resolve.
Lisa Turnbull, she was called, fighting for her life, trying desperately to believe in the words she was spouting, was trying to steer the course onto calmer waters. None of us wanted to be there and by mid afternoon, my head was fried; couldn't concentrate, it was all going over my head in an atmosphere of intimidation, cocky bravado and general disruption.
People were facing sanctions for not turning up the following day, as I just decided to make the best of a bad imovable situation. 11days of 'Introduction to Customer Service', shortly before a General Election, suggested a propaganda tactic to me; massaging government employment figures whilst teaching skills to the great unwashed of Newcastle upon Tyne.
By the third day, I was lucky enough to escape to a decidely less fraught scenario of a Basic Digital Photography course up the road in Newcastle's Ridley Place for the afternoon. Here everyone was treated with respect, offered tea and coffee, encouraged and helped, through the soothing tones of one by the name of Michelle. Trouble was I was still returning home to a fitfull night's sleep, having retired around 7.30pm mentally drained from the day's stresses.
It was to gradually get better, the course eventually pared down to 5 hard core participants and we rubbed along and took some solace in the anarchic meanderings of John Purvis, who was to eventually leave before the end having secured his own employment outside the remit of Avanta.
Role play scenarios, attempts at artistic posters, semi-agreable teamwork and a certain amount of pressure to sign up to call centre work. These were all added to the pot along with a densely repetative ring file of course work that would eventually contain some of my best prescriptive handwriting!
I signed up to discarding the file after finishing the course, I would never refer to it, even though I slightly question my actions now. Wise after the event?
Positives? - met some decent people and realised that I need contact with the public more than I thought, particularly if in the same boat. The discipline of having a purpose to the day, getting up and getting somewhere for a specific deadline was beneficial, but I'm still a maverick that wants my own way, if not the responsibility that goes with it.
Up the workers!
Monday, 16 February 2015
Strange last few days,
You have the anomoly of Black Friday, followed by the most romantic day of the year.
Well I don't really consider myself superstitious, so Friday was just another Friday. Mmmm?
But my PC was acting up, eventually to fall into a coma and I'd just been informed that I wasn't to be considered for a post I'd spent considerable time applying for. Shame on you Human Resources, had two good referees and everything.
Got some well meaning lip for even suggesting, by text, that a few bevvies could be had on Saturday night in favour of a mate's attachment to his crown jewels (Obvious really) ....and then my electric toothbrush took against me.
One Dead Doorbell and a small spat with my father later and bed seemed like a safe place, perhaps the only deed I got right all day.
Valentine's Day, ugggh
By way of distraction, the postman brought good news as a new RAM strip was now available to my coma ridden PC. When in doubt call cousin Dave who, traditionally, will nip into the nearest telephone kiosk to don his Superman costume and save the day. I awaited a text reply to my carrier pigeon.
Missed out on seeing brother Jim as crossed wires meant that he watched the FA Cup match at a different pub and I returned home to a couple of Cokes, a ham sandwich and the enjoyable saga of The Voice and a recording of Count Arthur Strong from earlier in the week.
Its Monday morning now, PC has been resussitated via Superman and I have the dubious honour of dental extraction mid afternoon. Will this improve my whistle I ask myself?
You have the anomoly of Black Friday, followed by the most romantic day of the year.
Well I don't really consider myself superstitious, so Friday was just another Friday. Mmmm?
But my PC was acting up, eventually to fall into a coma and I'd just been informed that I wasn't to be considered for a post I'd spent considerable time applying for. Shame on you Human Resources, had two good referees and everything.
Got some well meaning lip for even suggesting, by text, that a few bevvies could be had on Saturday night in favour of a mate's attachment to his crown jewels (Obvious really) ....and then my electric toothbrush took against me.
One Dead Doorbell and a small spat with my father later and bed seemed like a safe place, perhaps the only deed I got right all day.
Valentine's Day, ugggh
By way of distraction, the postman brought good news as a new RAM strip was now available to my coma ridden PC. When in doubt call cousin Dave who, traditionally, will nip into the nearest telephone kiosk to don his Superman costume and save the day. I awaited a text reply to my carrier pigeon.
Missed out on seeing brother Jim as crossed wires meant that he watched the FA Cup match at a different pub and I returned home to a couple of Cokes, a ham sandwich and the enjoyable saga of The Voice and a recording of Count Arthur Strong from earlier in the week.
Its Monday morning now, PC has been resussitated via Superman and I have the dubious honour of dental extraction mid afternoon. Will this improve my whistle I ask myself?
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