This is the famous clock tower of the Flinders Street Station (the main train station for suburban trains) in Melbourne.
We were staying in a hotel (The Doubletree) directly opposite to the station and our room overlooked the station and the clock tower. I took photos of it during the day:
and this one, at night. It came out better than I thought it would.
There is more going on on the story front, and just to keep my mind active, or tortured, as the case may be, there are a number of other stories I’m working on.
In particular, there is the story with the description, what happens after an action-packed start.
Quite a lot. In the third section of the story, after being shot out of the sky, interrogated, flown into northern Nigeria, and then crossed into the Democratic Republic of the Congo, to search search for two men being held to ransom, our players finally made it home.
Previous attempts to rescue them had failed, this one had to succeed. It’s a matter of dealing with local militias who are tricky to deal with and then get out of the country after affecting the rescue.
At times, while writing it, looking at a map and using google earth to see what it is like, I felt like I was there looking down the barrel of a gun, and then, in the helter-skelter of getting to the evacuation point, I’m sure my heart rate had lifted considerably, particularly when the battered DC3 was about to be shot at with air to air missiles.
Just imagine this …
A DC3 versus a very maneuverable helicopter. I was on the edge of my seat.
Next is the surveillance story where nothing is as it seems, which in the espionage business is nothing unusual. Nor is the fact you cannot trust anyone.
It starts out as a routine surveillance operation until a shop front explodes a moment or two after the target passes it. In the ensuing mayhem, the target reappears, now in fear of his life, and our main character tracks him to an alley where he is murdered before his eyes.
Soon after the two men whom our main character is working for appearing and start asking questions that make our main character think that they had perpetrated a hit on him, and decides that something is not right.
From there, the deeper he probes, the more interesting the characters and developments. Who was the target? What was he doing that got him killed? What does he have that everyone wants?
I’m about to start on the next phase of this story…
Then there is what I call comic light relief, the writing of stories inspired by photographs I’ve taken. Some, however, have exceeded the 1,000-word limit that I’ve set, only because I want to explore the story more, and some are spread over a number of stories.
The first book of stories, 1 to 50 are to be published soon. Currently, I’m working on number 132 of the third volume of stories, but number 88 is my favorite so far, simply because it involves a starship.
That meant we had to make the journey from New York to New Jersey, by train. It involved the underground, or as New Yorkers call it, the subway, from Columbus Circle which by any other name was really, 80th street, to 34th street which apparently was the New Jersey jump-off point for us to get overground, well a lot of it was overground. So, were we going uptown or downtown?
Apparently, it was downtown, and to 34th Street on the A train.
You would not think this to be a difficult task, but for people not used to the subway, and where they were going other than some internet derived instructions, but without the help of a man at the station, just getting tickets may have stopped us dead in our tracks. With his help, we determined the return fare for three of us and then get through the turnstile onto the platform.
We get on the A train, but soon discover it was not stopping at all stations. There was for a few minutes, a little apprehension we might just simply bypass our station. Luckily we did not.
Now, finding your way to the New Jersey transit part of Penn station might appear to be easy, on paper, but once there, on the ground, and mingling with the other passengers which all seemed to be purpose going somewhere, it took a few moments to realize we had to follow the New Jersey transit signs.
This led to a booking hall where luckily we realized we needed to buy more tickets, then find the appropriate platform, and then get on the right train, all of which, in the end, was not difficult at all.
Maybe on the return trip, it might be.
At Newark Penn station it was momentarily confusing because the exit was not readily in sight, so it was a case of following the majority of other passengers who’d got off the train.
This led us to exit onto the street under the train tracks. Luckily, having been before to Prudential Stadium to buy the tickets, we knew what the stadium looked like and roughly where it was, so it was a simple task to walk towards it.
We were early, so it was a case of finding a restaurant to get dinner before the game. So was a great many others, and we passed about 6 different restaurants that looked full to overflowing before we stopped at one called Novelty Burger and Bar.
It looked inviting, and it was not crowded.
It was yet another excuse to have a hamburger and beer, both of which seemed to be a specialty in American. I could not fault either.
And soon after we arrived, this restaurant too was full to overflowing. Thankfully there were other Maple Leaf fans there because being in a room full of opposition teams supports can be quite harrowing.
That was yet to come when we finally got to the stadium. I was not expecting a lot of Maple Leaf fans.
We went to this game with high hopes. New Jersey Devils were not exactly at the top of the leader board, and coming off the loss in Toronto, this was make or break for whether we would ever go to another game.
It’s remarkable in that all the Ice Hockey stadiums are the same. Everyone has an excellent view of the game, the sound systems are loud, and the fans passionate. Here it seems to be a thing to ride on the Zambonis.
At the front door they were handing out figurines of a Devil’s past player, and it seems a thing that you get a handout of some sort at each game. At Toronto we got towels. And, finally, we were in luck.
The Maple Leafs won.
And it was an odd feeling to know that even though their team lost, there did not seem to be any rancor amount the fans and that any expectation of being assaulted by losing fans was totally unfounded, unlike some sporting events I’ve been to.
Perhaps soccer should take a leaf out of the ice hockey playbook.
That also went for taking public transport late at night. I did not have any fears about doing so, which is more than I can say about traveling at night on our own transport system back home.
Oh, and by the way, there are train conductors who still come to every passenger to collect or stamp their tickets. No trusting the passenger has paid for his trip here. And, if you don’t have a ticket, I have it on good authority they throw you off the train and into the swamp. Good thing then, we had tickets.
It was, all in all, a really great day.
At first, you would think this word has something to do with your health.
You’d be right. “Are you well?” or “Are you well enough?”
Of course, it can cause some confusion, because how do you measure degrees of wellness.
Reasonably well, very well, not well, or just well. Not a good descriptive word for the state of your health, maybe.
How about what if the team played well. Not health this time, but a standard.
There’s ordinary, mediocre, as a team, brilliantly, and then there’s well.
It seems it can be used to describe an outcome.
Well, well.
Hang on, that’s something else again.
What about, then, we use the word to describe a hole in the ground with water at the bottom.
Or not if it is a drought.
A lot of people get water from a well, in fact in the olden days that was a common sight in a village.
What about those environment destroyers, oilmen. They have oil wells, don’t they?
And when I went to school, there were ink wells on every desk.
Messy too, because I was once the ink monitor.
But if the well’s dried up?
It becomes a metaphor for a whole new bunch of stuff.
OR what about a stairwell?
And at the complexity of it all, for such a small word, tears well up in my eyes.
We were in London in Summer, it was a fine afternoon, going into the evening and we decided to get on the London Eye. As you can see from the clock it was near 7:00 pm.
This photo was taken as we were coming down.
Those long evenings were quite remarkable, not in the least going to a pub and sinking a few pints! There was one such pub not far from Charing Cross Station
The pub was called ‘The Princess of Wales’
And still be light enough to find your way home.
OK, I know just recently I debunked the notion that we should be setting new years resolutions, but…
I just worked out why none of mine ever work.
I set the bar too high.
For instance, for the last few years I’ve made a resolution to lose weight. Yes, every year I realise I have to lose weight, but every year it never works.
Why?
Telling yourself to lose weight doesn’t work. You know it won’t as much as you know that going to a dietician, or going to the gym isn’t, in the long run, going to work.
This is a mind game. I’ve known that for a long, long time. You have to change what’s in the mind in order to make it work.
So, should I try hypnotism. After all, it can turn people off cigarettes, sugar rushes, just about everything. But convince me to diet?
No. Hypnotism is very specific.
What I need is something that will convince me to give up all those weight gaining goodies, and sacrifice taste and cravings with something that I know is going to be horrible.
There are programs out there. One I’ve seen recently is Noom.
It’s an alluring concept, and an alluring advertisement. Especially the one about the third generation candy maker who lost 17 pounds and feels like he got his life back?
Then being the sceptic I am, I googled Noom scam, and yes, it is and it isn’t. The concept is good, but the back up for those likely to stray is terrible. The telephone help line is manned by people who have no training and no idea how to help.
It’s a good idea wrecked by greed, sell a program then abandon your acolytes. It’s the way of the world, start with the best of intentions, then sell out, putting profits over people.
So, my weight loss resolution has bitten the dust.
Instead, I’m making one that is achievable. Spend as much time with my grand daughters until they grow up and go their own way. They have reached that interesting age, where they’re discovering the world around them.
That, and maybe travel on one last odyssey.
I just watched America ring in the new year.
15 hours after we did here in Brisbane. It was, if anything, a non event. Covid put paid to anything as lavish as it had been in the past. It reminded me of thetwo times we were in New York for New Year’s Eve and the first time we couldn’t get near tTimes Square, and saw the ball drop in Central Park, and the second, in a Times Square hotel not far from the action.
This year we saw it on TV. Oh, hang on, the TV coverage didn’t cover the ball drop. What the?
But not to put too fnei a point to it, I didn’t really miss it. Notthere, and not here.
Any other year? Perhaps.
Two years ago we were in Lake Louise in Canada, and it was amazing to say the least. The Fairmont hotel had been setting up for it all day, right down to watching a hoard of staff trying to put together the portable dance floor, and later, when exiting the restaurant, watching the crowded hoards dancing to their own music. Or so it appeared.
We dined in the restarant, and it was a magic night of dining, in a magical setting.
Just saying that I don’t think that New Years Eve will be topped in what might be the rest of my lifetime.
This year, nothing. I was up writing, and on the dot of midnight there was 15 seconds of fireworks.
We usually watch Sydney’s New Year’s Eve party and the fifteen to twenty minutes of fireworks after, but Covid put paid to that too.
Ten or so years ago, when imbibed with more enthusiasm, we went to a club on the border between Queensland and New South Wales where one had daylight saving and the other didn’t. It was fun to celebrate New Year’s Eve twice, but not when we went back to the motel and discovered, after a rain deluge, all our rooms had sprung leaks and everything was wet.
The days of those adventures are more.
I’ve got used to staying in five and six star accommodation, but now we have retired and the income doesn’t match the lifestyle we used to have.
And with Covid always lurking in those dark corners waiting to pounce when least expected, I’m guessing my 2021 will be much the same as 2020, in isolation until we get a vaccine and the idiots finally realise they’re dicing with death, ours not theirs.
Still, it could be worse.
But, despire the glass half empty attitude, I hope everyone else has a happy new year and a much better 2021.
This is the eighth update since the end of November.
Since the last update, I have been working on the outline, and fleshing out some of the chapters.
Of particular interest, for me that is, is what came to me at the most unexpected time, doesn’t that always happen, great ideas and never a piece of paper to write it down.
So, hold that thought, became my mantra for several hours until I got home and I put it down. in the meantime, the ideas had grown and the whole of the eighth stone and leading to the ninth came to me in a flurry of words.
I could hardly write it down fast enough.
This means the plan is now set through to the penultimate event.
Progress indeed.
I hope by the last update I’ll have the whole story through to the end, at least in outline form.
For the bean counters, this session sees another 3,185 words for a running total of 105,704.
All the worries we thought we might have in getting from Lake Louise to Calgary, in the end, it was just like driving to work, only a little longer.
When we left the Fairmont, the car had two frozen bottles of water and a frozen donut, left in the car for the two days we were there, so hiding in the garage might not be a good idea.
At the garage where we refueled, it was so cold I could barely clean the windows and glad to get back into the warmth inside the car.
Thankfully as we got closer to Calgary, it got warmer.
We bypass the city going to the airport, but, as it turns out, we would not have had much time to look around anyway.It’s nice to go to an airport and actually find the car rental returns first go with adequate signing to get there.
Returning the car took a few extra minutes because we were at the end of a dozen or so others who turned up at the same time. All good, they remembered giving us a half full petrol tank.
At the check-in, it is very smooth sailing, the kiosk working and once the booking reference was entered, it spat out the desired number of boarding passes and baggage tags.
Then to baggage drop, through customs where I managed to lose my jacket, which is amazing that you would be allowed to leave anything behind.
So…
We have an hour and a half to kill, so a long soda and two long island teas settle the pre-flight nerves if we had any to start with.
Time to consider the vagaries of the flight.
Today we’re on an Airbus a320, and we are seated in the very last row, row 33. It’s always a bad thing to look up planes on seatguru.com, because it has painted them as the worst on the plane.
What’s the downside, sometimes the seat pitch is less than further up the plane, the seats don’t recline and you get the seat in front in your face, and you get the constant flushing of the toilets. And my major bugbear there’s no overhead luggage space.
What’s the reality?
To begin with, the seats recline, but not very much. We’ll wait till the plane is cruising before judging how far the seats recline in front of us.
The seat pitch is good and it doesn’t feel like were cramped into a small space, but again this is relative to what happens with the seat in front.
Overhead baggage space, none whatsoever, so if you don’t get on first you are basically screwed. We were almost first to the rear of the plane so I suspect others also know about the lack of overhead bin space.
Being at the read most part of the plane affords you a view of how the baggage handlers treat your baggage, and it’s interesting, to say the least. They smile a lot, so I suspect that a few bags might get the ‘treatment’.
Enough already.
We’re now backing out of the bay ready to leave.
We’re getting endless announcements in foreign languages so when next I fly with Air Canada I should at least learn French.
Or not…
Ah, the smell of kerosene floods our end of the plane. So much for air quality, which so it happens is being covered in the safety video at the exact same time.
But as it turned out, the flight was uneventful.
This is the seventh update since the end of the month, and is nearly the end of another month. Without the dedication to the task as happened in November, it is harder to find the time, particularly when the following month, December, is given over to preparing for the Christmas festivities.
But I have been hiving out an hour or two every day to writing and planning.
For instance, I hadn’t much of a plan for what was to happen after the fifth stone, and a basic concept for the sixth. These have now been fleshed out and various chapters written.
I’m still working on the parallel events happening back at the castle with Ophelia while Marigold is out on the quest, and still needs some more work.
I have an idea what might happen, but, as always happens, when writing, the story tends to take a different course. This time I’ve tried to steer the ship on the right course, and not run aground.
For the bean counters, this session has produced 4,236 words, for a running total of 102,519.
Yes, we’ve cracked the magical 100,000.
