Tag: Story

NaNoWriMo – April – 2026 – Day 3

Having got through my quota of words for the NANOWRIMO project, I turned my mind to another story I’m writing.

It started out as a bit of a lark, just to see if I could write a story that fitted around with an old castle we’d visited in Tuscany, after hearing stories of the pockmarks on the walls attributed to gunfire.

It conjured up a group of men occupying it with a single mission: to capture and return a high-ranking German boffin who wanted to defect to the Allies.

The twist is, of course, that the occupiers are British, sent there to facilitate the repatriation to England, but the men are really German double agents.

A bit far-fetched, but from some of the stories I’ve read and shows I’ve seen, it’s not quite beyond the realms of possibility.

And, after all, it is fiction.

So, parts of this story have been running around in my head, waiting for a time to put it on paper.  Now is that time.

So, three more episodes have just been completed, and I’m thinking of watching Von Ryans Express again just to keep the mood going.

Oh, and the NANOWRIMO project, it’s proceeding apace.

My spy survives the action-packed start, battered and bruised, and contemplating his next move. It’s tough where the only retirement plan you have open to you is death

NaNoWriMo – April – 2026 – Day 2

I’m sitting at my desk surrounded by any number of scraps of paper with more storylines, written excerpts, parts of stories, and a number of chapters of a work in progress.

Does this happen to anyone else?

The business of writing requires a talent to keep focused on the one project and silence all the other screaming voices in your head, pouring out their side of the story.

But it’s not working.

I try to be determined in my efforts to edit my current completed novel, after letting it ‘rest’ in my head for a few months.

I planned to have some time off, but all of those prisoners in my head started clamouring for my attention.  A story I started some time ago needs revising, another story I wrote last year for NANOWRIMO has come back to haunt me, and characters, well, they’re out in the waiting room, pacing up and down, ready to tell me their life stories.

Is the temporary cure coffee or wine?

Now I think I really do need a holiday

Or a trip to the asylum.  Thank God this is not the early 20th century, or I might never return.  And if it’s named Bellview, it would be just another story to be written.

The author who went Bonkers!

And that spy who’s at the end of his tether, just think James Bond movie full on action start and you’ve got the first chapter done!

Does it ever end?

 

 

 

NaNoWriMo – April – 2026 – Day 2

I’m sitting at my desk surrounded by any number of scraps of paper with more storylines, written excerpts, parts of stories, and a number of chapters of a work in progress.

Does this happen to anyone else?

The business of writing requires a talent to keep focused on the one project and silence all the other screaming voices in your head, pouring out their side of the story.

But it’s not working.

I try to be determined in my efforts to edit my current completed novel, after letting it ‘rest’ in my head for a few months.

I planned to have some time off, but all of those prisoners in my head started clamouring for my attention.  A story I started some time ago needs revising, another story I wrote last year for NANOWRIMO has come back to haunt me, and characters, well, they’re out in the waiting room, pacing up and down, ready to tell me their life stories.

Is the temporary cure coffee or wine?

Now I think I really do need a holiday

Or a trip to the asylum.  Thank God this is not the early 20th century, or I might never return.  And if it’s named Bellview, it would be just another story to be written.

The author who went Bonkers!

And that spy who’s at the end of his tether, just think James Bond movie full on action start and you’ve got the first chapter done!

Does it ever end?

 

 

 

NaNoWriMo – April – 2026 – Day 1

I’m supposed to be writing my quota of words for NaNoWriMo, but there’s a problem.

After a late night, the Maple Leafs are playing the Philadelphia Flyers at 9 am our time, Brisbane, so I’ve got to get up and put it on.

And yes, the usual problem crops up: the internet is running slowly, and connecting to the live feed is traumatic. It starts working, just in time for the national anthems, and once again, we can hear that of our adopted country, Canada.

Then we get to see the first few minutes before the internet dies. What can you expect when the government takes on a huge infrastructure project? Delays, cost overruns, and compromises are expected as it looks to rein in costs. Result: an internet that’s utter crap.

We get to see parts of the first period, none of the second. I call my daughter, who’s as invested in ice hockey as we are, and she tells us she’s using a different host. We change, and it all comes good, so much so we get to see the last period, the overtime, and then an exemplary bout of goalkeeping from Frederick Anderson, opps, sorry, he’s moved on, and it’s someone else, to win us the game in the shootout.

By that time it’s afternoon.

Time for writing? No. I have to make some meatball pasta with spaghetti for tonight.

That consumes the next couple of hours.

Perhaps it’s for the best. I’ve got a title and a few scribbled notes about a tired spy, and never being let off the hook. Getting that start, sometimes, is harder than the next 400 pages. As for words written, maybe later.

NaNoWriMo – April – 2026 – Day 1

I’m supposed to be writing my quota of words for NaNoWriMo, but there’s a problem.

After a late night, the Maple Leafs are playing the Philadelphia Flyers at 9 am our time, Brisbane, so I’ve got to get up and put it on.

And yes, the usual problem crops up: the internet is running slowly, and connecting to the live feed is traumatic. It starts working, just in time for the national anthems, and once again, we can hear that of our adopted country, Canada.

Then we get to see the first few minutes before the internet dies. What can you expect when the government takes on a huge infrastructure project? Delays, cost overruns, and compromises are expected as it looks to rein in costs. Result: an internet that’s utter crap.

We get to see parts of the first period, none of the second. I call my daughter, who’s as invested in ice hockey as we are, and she tells us she’s using a different host. We change, and it all comes good, so much so we get to see the last period, the overtime, and then an exemplary bout of goalkeeping from Frederick Anderson, opps, sorry, he’s moved on, and it’s someone else, to win us the game in the shootout.

By that time it’s afternoon.

Time for writing? No. I have to make some meatball pasta with spaghetti for tonight.

That consumes the next couple of hours.

Perhaps it’s for the best. I’ve got a title and a few scribbled notes about a tired spy, and never being let off the hook. Getting that start, sometimes, is harder than the next 400 pages. As for words written, maybe later.

In a word: Prize

What you win, first prize in a raffle, though I don’t think I’ve ever won first prize.  Second maybe.  But, aren’t all raffles rigged?  

But despite my unfortunate run of luck, a prize is generally give to someone who works hard, or wins a race

Or I could have been a prize fighter but lacked the size and the strength, and out of curiosity how many prize fighters didn’t win a prize?

And if I had been a pirate, I could have sailed the seven seas to find a prize, namely a ship to attack and take as my own.

And as a prime example, a Chelsea supporter walking into a bar full of Manchester United fans could be called a prize idiot.

This is not to be confused with the word prise

Don’t relatives prise the last dollar out of a dying man’s hand?

Or prise the truth out of a witness, or a perpetrator

Or prise a window open like thieves do when we forget to lock them properly?

The 2am Rant: How about this for a plotline?

No matter how hard you try, how seamless, on paper the plan is, the odds are something will go wrong. That is not to say I am a fatalist, or a glass half empty kind of traveler, because most of the trips I have planned, and taken, have been relatively painless.

Except our good luck had to finally run out.

It was not a matter of bad planning; it was just one of those times when events didn’t quite go according to plan. It happens.

For instance, the simple objective was to get from Brisbane in Australia to Florence in Italy. There is no direct flight. Booking on an airline site is a horrendous experience, fares are ridiculously high, and there is no accommodating stopovers.

This is a trip that only a travel agent can handle.

The objective, travel to London via Hong Kong, or Singapore, or any medium distant airport, then on to London, or Paris, or where-ever, then to Florence. No overnight stopover, staying in a hotel, not this time, in either of Hong Kong or London.

Simple.

Not.

It was as horrendous for the agent as it was navigating the airline’s internet site. It was not something that could be done, sitting opposite her as she deftly navigated the highways and byways of the travel system on her computer. This was a longer, more intricate job.

Two days later she had the solution for the Brisbane, Hong Kong, London, and thence Florence trip. It would require a stay of 10 hours in Hong Kong, the connections didn’t align according to price constraints, and then a 14 hour layover in London as flights to Florence were not aligned either. All well and good. Cathay Pacific for the trip to London and Vueling Airlines for the Florence leg. At least we would arrive in Florence at a reasonable hour, about 6pm.

On paper, it was the most practical solution in the circumstances.

Reality proved it to be something else entirely.

At Brisbane airport, we were given boarding passes for the flights through to London, but by some quirk of fate had our baggage checked through to Florence. How this could be done without boarding passes for the London to Florence flight was a surprise. Back in Brisbane, the check-in person told us she could not give us a boarding pass for the London to Florence leg because the system would not issue it. We could she said, get it easy enough when we arrived in London.

The first leg went smoothly enough, though we did not realize until we got on the plane that it stopped over in Cairns for an hour or so. This was not a problem, just made the time between Brisbane and Hong Kong longer than we anticipated.

In Hong Kong, we had no trouble getting into the lounge I’d booked. The problem came with the interpretation of using the bathroom facilities, and it took several hours before we finally realized that the bathroom facilities were not part of the lounge but operated independently and you had to book your place. By that time there were a large number of people ahead of us (who obviously knew the problems associated with these facilities) and it annoyed me that the lounge staff did not mention it when we arrived.

The Hong Kong to London leg was as all long haul flights are. We knew what to expect, and arrived in London around 6 am. We arrived at terminal three and the lounge we’d booked was in terminal three. All we needed was a boarding pass to get in.

Oops.

That was not the case.

Because we could not get back into terminal three without a forward boarding pass we had to exit and go through customs and immigration. We were told that the only way to get a boarding pass for the Florence flight was to go to the airline counter.

The problem was Vueling did not have an airline counter.

This is where tempers started to flare. 7:30 in the morning, no means of getting into the lounge which we had paid a lot on money for, and no one in the terminal being helpful.

The Vueling web site was impossible to use.

The telephone number rang out.

At this point, I was beginning to believe the airline didn’t exist and we had been ripped off.

Only by a quirk of fate, reading the departures board, did I see a flight for Vueling leaving at 10 am, with the check-in counter displayed.

By this time we had spent two very frustrating hours and I was nothing short of angry.
At the gate, the head of the check-in counter, a representative of Vueling was surprised we had any problems, particularly in Brisbane, but happily issued the boarding passes.

When we mentioned the baggage she advised us it was lucky we did, otherwise it would have gone missing. She took the tag numbers and sorted that problem out.

The airline, it seems, is well respected, and based on the service I received, I had to say I agreed

The problem was back in Brisbane with an inexperienced check in person.

There was only one problem in getting to the lounge, now four hours later than we had advised, the fact we had to go back through customs, and in doing so, the duty-free that we had brought from Hong Kong was now outside the limits allowed, and the customs staff were adamant despite the circumstances we could not take it with us. $400 worth of goods finished up in the bin.

It would be true to say that day the customs staff at Heathrow were not the best ambassadors for their country, and one, in particular, would be best doing service elsewhere where human contact was not a requirement. As for the others, they were as helpful as they could be, but rules unfortunately were rules.

At last, rather distressed over the duty-free, and the lateness of our arrival at the lounge, there was no possibility of getting a short sleep before going to Florence. At least we did not have the same problems using the bathroom facilities, our room I’d book had them included in the room.

We rested, and figured nothing else could go wrong.

Not. Again!

The plane was advertised to leave London at about 3 pm. We left the lounge expecting to get to the gate on time. We checked on the departure board for the flight to get the gate number, only to see a notice ‘delayed’. When that delay passed 5 pm, two hours later, we decided to go to the counter and find out what was happening.

Only to find there was no airline counter. Again!

We asked at least a dozen people, including the special helpers the airport who there is plenty of signage to say to go to if you have a problem, but not one of them knew where the counter was or who was looking after the affairs of the airline. By this time other irate passengers of the delayed flight were massing, also seeking answers. One discovered who the agent was, and we descended on the counter as a large group.

The first person I saw at the counter was the woman who had checked us in that morning. For her, it had been a long day, and it was getting longer.

The problem, the plane had been delayed on an earlier leg, yes it would be arriving, having just left the lat airport, and we would be embarking about 7:30. For our trouble, we got a meal voucher, and at least we could have a reasonably good dinner.

The plane arrived, we embarked, the service was good and the people on board as cheerful as they could be given the delays and the discontented passengers.

We arrived in Florence just before midnight, our driver to take us to the hotel was waiting for us, and the hotel upgraded us to a very nice room.

All in all a harrowing journey, but at the end, basically a six-hour delay, and two very tired, but happy people. And we were in Florence, in summer. What more could anyone want?

The 2 am Rant: When everything goes according to plan, or has it?

We managed to arrive early at the airport.  Rather than wait three hours for our flight, we decided to try and get on an earlier departure.  This will depend on our ticket type and whether there are seats available, preferably together.

We line up in the service queue, which by its very description means you have a long wait as service is mostly between difficult to impossible, depending on the request.  We wait for twenty minutes.  There’s a long queue behind us.  Our request is taken care of quickly and efficiently making it almost seamless, certainly painless.  I’m sure our request was one of the very few easy ones the staff will get.

Today, it seems it is our lucky day.  The transfer to an earlier flight is free, and there are two seats available together.  All we have to do is alert the pickup driver at our destination that we are going to be an hour earlier.  Done.

Checking in bags is usually the bane of the traveller’s existence.  No matter which airport in whatever country you are departing from, the only difference is the length of the queue; from incredibly long with a half-hour wait to the head of the line to up to an hour.  Our queue is 15 to 20 minutes.

One assumes this is why intending passengers are asked to go to the airport two hours ahead of their flight.  There are times of the day when the queues are horrendous, and that not only applies to Heathrow.

And if you are late, just panic.

And if your bags are overweight, be prepared to have your credit card hammered.  Especially if you’re flying Air France from Venice to Paris.

Now it’s time to relax.  There is an hour before we have to be at the gate, so just enough time to get coffee and a doughnut.

And be horrified at what shops charge for simple items like sandwiches.  I think $10 is very expensive.  But if you’re hungry and forgot to eat before getting to the airport, then be prepared to pay more than you usually would for the same fare.

It’s also time to observe our fellow passengers, and there is always the one who has a last-minute dash for a plane that is just about to leave, passengers with panic-stricken looks.  We all know what happens if you miss the flight even as you’re downing that last cocktail in the airline lounge while thinking, yes, they’ll hold the flight for me!

Apparently not, these days, because airlines want to keep their ‘on time’ record.

Even so, there are still three more calls for the missing passengers and then nothing.  If they missed the plane, then their problems are just beginning.  It’s the same feeling you have when your name is called out before the flight starts loading.  Only once have we been called up and given an upgrade, and once in the US, to be told we could take another flight because our flight was overbooked.  Business class was greatly appreciated and was worth the extra hour we had to wait.

The next bottleneck is the scanners, and sometimes the queue here is very long and moving slowly because the scanners are set to pick up belts and shoes, so people are scattered everywhere getting redressed and putting shoes on.  Today, being a weekday, the queue is not so bad.

Loading is painless and reasonably organised except when the passengers in high-numbered rows try to board by the front door instead of the rear door and clash midway in the plane.  After they untangle themselves and get to their seats, we’re ready to go.

This flight still has a manual safety demonstration, which most people ignore, but it is slightly better than the video demonstration.  Let’s hope we don’t go down over the water.  I’ve charted my path to the emergency exit, and l have quite a few people before me.  I guess there’s more than one way to be last off the plane.

Sometimes you get to pick who you get to sit next to, especially if you are travelling with your partner, which this time I am, but in a three-seat arrangement, you have no control over who takes that third seat.  We are lucky this time because it will not become a tight squeeze, but unfortunately, our fellow traveller has a cold and in a confined space for several hours, it could turn out to be a problem.

But, in the end, the flight is smooth, and the snacks are edible.  Unfortunately, there is no liquor service like the full-service rival, but that might be a good thing.  No air rage on this flight.

Time flies, pardon the pun, and we have arrived.  Even though it took forever for the baggage to be delivered, we still got home early.

Until the next time we fly.

Searching for locations: From Zhengzhou to Suzhou by train, and the Snowy Sea Hotel, Suzhou, China

For the first time on this trip, we encounter problems with Chinese officialdom at the railway station, though we were warned that this might occur.

We had a major problem with the security staff when they pulled everyone over with aerosols and confiscated them. We lost styling mousse, others lost hair spray, and the men, their shaving cream.  But, to her credit, the tour guide did warn us they were stricter here, but her suggestion to be angry they were taking our stuff was probably not the right thing to do.

As with previous train bookings, the Chinese method of placing people in seats didn’t quite manage to keep couples traveling together, together on the train.  It was an odd peculiarity which few of the passengers understood, nor did they conform, swapping seat allocations.

This train ride did not seem the same as the last two and I don’t think we had the same type of high-speed train type that we had for the last two.  The carriages were different, there was only one toilet per carriage, and I don’t think we were going as fast.

But aside from that, we had 753 kilometers to travel with six stops before ours, two of which were very large cities, and then our stop, about four and a half hours later.  With two minutes this time, to get the baggage off the team managed it in 40 seconds, a new record.

After slight disorientation getting off the train, we locate our guide, easily found by looking for the Trip-A-Deal flag.  From there it’s a matter of getting into our respective groups and finding the bus.

As usual, the trip to the hotel was a long one, but we were traveling through a much brighter, and well lit, city.

As for our guide, we have him from now until the end of the tour.  There are no more train rides, we will be taking the bus from city to city until we reach Shanghai.  Good thing then that the bus is brand new, with that new car smell.  Only issue, no USB charging point.

The Snowy Sea hotel.  

It is finally a joy to get a room that is nothing short of great.  It has a bathroom and thus privacy.

Everyone had to go find a supermarket to purchase replacements for the confiscated items.  Luckily there was a huge supermarket just up from the hotel that had everything but the kitchen sink.

But, unlike where we live, the carpark is more of a scooter park!

It is also a small microcosm of Chinese life for the new more capitalistic oriented Chinese.

The next morning we get some idea of the scope of high-density living, though here, the buildings are not 30 stories tall, but still just as impressive.

These look like the medium density houses, but to the right of these are much larger buildings

The remarkable thing about this is those buildings stretch as far as the eye can see.

Searching for locations: From Zhengzhou to Suzhou by train, and the Snowy Sea Hotel, Suzhou, China

For the first time on this trip, we encounter problems with Chinese officialdom at the railway station, though we were warned that this might occur.

We had a major problem with the security staff when they pulled everyone over with aerosols and confiscated them. We lost styling mousse, others lost hair spray, and the men, their shaving cream.  But, to her credit, the tour guide did warn us they were stricter here, but her suggestion to be angry they were taking our stuff was probably not the right thing to do.

As with previous train bookings, the Chinese method of placing people in seats didn’t quite manage to keep couples traveling together, together on the train.  It was an odd peculiarity which few of the passengers understood, nor did they conform, swapping seat allocations.

This train ride did not seem the same as the last two and I don’t think we had the same type of high-speed train type that we had for the last two.  The carriages were different, there was only one toilet per carriage, and I don’t think we were going as fast.

But aside from that, we had 753 kilometers to travel with six stops before ours, two of which were very large cities, and then our stop, about four and a half hours later.  With two minutes this time, to get the baggage off the team managed it in 40 seconds, a new record.

After slight disorientation getting off the train, we locate our guide, easily found by looking for the Trip-A-Deal flag.  From there it’s a matter of getting into our respective groups and finding the bus.

As usual, the trip to the hotel was a long one, but we were traveling through a much brighter, and well lit, city.

As for our guide, we have him from now until the end of the tour.  There are no more train rides, we will be taking the bus from city to city until we reach Shanghai.  Good thing then that the bus is brand new, with that new car smell.  Only issue, no USB charging point.

The Snowy Sea hotel.  

It is finally a joy to get a room that is nothing short of great.  It has a bathroom and thus privacy.

Everyone had to go find a supermarket to purchase replacements for the confiscated items.  Luckily there was a huge supermarket just up from the hotel that had everything but the kitchen sink.

But, unlike where we live, the carpark is more of a scooter park!

It is also a small microcosm of Chinese life for the new more capitalistic oriented Chinese.

The next morning we get some idea of the scope of high-density living, though here, the buildings are not 30 stories tall, but still just as impressive.

These look like the medium density houses, but to the right of these are much larger buildings

The remarkable thing about this is those buildings stretch as far as the eye can see.