Best of One Last Soul #6

This is a series of the seven highest blogs out of the current pageview count of over 66,000 since I started, now 5 years ago.

Windy Miller

There was uproar amongst the villagers when proposals became known for the erection of a wind powered turbine in their very back yard.

The usual emotional sentiments were expressed chiefly on the theme of why it had to be in their otherwise unspoiled area when there were plenty of wide open and unpopulated spaces elsewhere in the county. Rumour and hearsay thrived amongst the residents. There was an unfounded story from another parish where the constant whirring of just such a turbine drove man and beast to a state of demented frenzy and the weaker amongst the respective species threw themselves to an untimely death in a canal or a quarry or under the wheels of some vehicle or other or died of natural causes some years later .

Another tale was of a lady renowned for her special powers in things future and unworldly who claimed that the rotation of the turbine interfered with signals to her from the 'other' side.

In particularly stormy conditions in a southern county someone recalled hearing about  turbine blades which had become severed from their tower and had pirouetted and spiralled through the village causing considerable damage to property and possessions.

Sporadic combustion of similar buildings was quite well known and could be substantiated in fact rather than being a subject of fiction.

The representatives of the Consortium, out of town Land Agents, behind the project put their case to a meeting around the village pump amongst barracking and jeering from an almost full contingent of the residents and a few curious by-standers who happened to be out  rambling from the city.

The proposed location, it was argued,  was ideal on the basis of its elevation and exposure to the prevailing westerly winds.

There was good access to the road network and for the benefit of those for whom the turbine would provide a mechanism for wealth and amenity.

There was to be direct employment for one operator and a house to be built adjacent for occupation by their family.

The spin-off prospects for other jobs in the village and surroundings were expected to be good particularly for those in the transport, haulage, distribution and marketing sectors.

Aesthetically the tower would be quite unobtrusive. Painted black the slender 74 foot high structure with a traditional ogee cap and the four bladed turbine atop would blend in with the hillside and be a mere vertical stripe against the skyline. Such was the design that it was anticipated that the building would attain local landmark status and reflect well on the forward thinking members of the village as being progressive and modern.

When put to a vote the motion to build the structure was passed unanimously. This was not really surprising as the only persons eligible to put their signatures on the paperwork were the Consortium comprising the main land owners and financiers. The rest of the population were largely silent as they were in the employment and tied housing of the aforementioned privileged few as agricultural workers, domestic staff or otherwise beholding for their livelihoods in trade and commerce.

The wind turbine as mentioned , more quaintly called a windmill was erected at Skidby Village in 1821 by Robert Garton, a millwright of nearby Beverley. It was heightened in 1878-1879 but any protests at that time were not recorded for posterity. The windmill was restored to operation in 1974 and is regularly open to the public to this day. The arguments against and for a wind turbine remain ostensibly the same from the early 19th Century to the 21st.

Best of One Last Soul #5

This is a series of the seven highest blogs out of the current pageview count of over 66,000 since I started, now 5 years ago.

I enjoyed this one, have a go at a rather camp portrayal of Robin

Collected Works of The Boy Wonder 1966 to 1968

The Batman TV show, first broadcast in 1966, was stylish, brash and very corny but these were amongst its most endearing qualities as far as the viewers were concerned.

The script writers delivered ridiculously far fetched and increasingly abstract story lines but also managed to entertain and educate. The three series, up until 1968 when the show was abandoned because of a collapse in ratings, established many catchphrases, most notably those spoken by the Boy Wonder, Robin, the alter ego of the rather nice but dim Dick Grayson.

In true Robin style, put on tights, your pants over the top and cape,  clasp your fist in the palm of your hand, look a bit righteously agitated and hop from one foot to the other as though needing the toilet simultaneously muttering the following......

Holy Agility, Holy Almost, Holy Alphabet , Holy Alps , Holy Alter Ego, Holy Anagram
Holy Apparition , Holy Armadillo , Holy Armour Plate, Holy Ashtray ,Holy Asp
Holy Astronomy , Holy Astringent Plum-like Fruit , Holy Audubon, Holy Backfire
Holy Ball And Chain , Holy Bank Balance , Holy Bankruptcy , Holy Banks ,Holy Bargain Basements
Holy Barracuda , Holy Bat Logic, Holy Bat Trap , Holy Benedict Arnold, Holy Bijou
Holy Bikini , Holy Bill Of Rights, Holy Birthday Cake , Holy Black Beard, Holy Blackout
Holy Blank Cartridge, Holy Blizzard ,Holy Bluebeard, Holy Bouncing Boiler Plate
Holy Bowler, Holy Bullseye ,Holy Bunions, Holy Caffeine, Holy Camouflage, Holy Captain Nemo
Holy Caruso, Holy Catastrophe, Holy Cat(s), Holy Chicken Coop, Holy Chilblains
Holy Chocolate Eclair, Holy Cinderella, Holy Cinemascope, Holy Cliche, Holy Cliffhangers
Holy Clockwork, Holy Clockworks, Holy Cofax You Mean, Holy Coffin Nails, Holy Cold Creeps
Holy Complications, Holy Conflagration, Holy Contributing to the Delinquency of Minors
Holy Corpuscles, Holy Cosmos, Holy Costume Party, Holy Crack Up, Holy Crossfire
Holy Crucial Moment, Holy Cryptology, Holy D'artagnan, Holy Detonator, Holy Disappearing Act
Holy Distortion, Holy Diversionary Tactics, Holy Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Holy Egg Shells
Holy Encore, Holy Epigrams, Holy Escape-hatch, Holy Explosion, Holy Fate-worse-than-death
Holy Felony Holy Finishing-touches, Holy Fireworks, Holy Firing Squad, Holy Fishbowl
Holy Flight Plan, Holy Flip-flop, Holy Flood Gate, Holy Floor Covering, Holy Flypaper
Holy Fly Trap, Holy Fog, Holy Forecast, Holy Fork In The Road, Holy Fourth Amendment
Holy Fourth Of July, Holy Frankenstein, Holy Frankenstein It's Alive, Holy Fratricide
Holy Frogman, Holy Fruit Salad, Holy Frying Towels, Holy Funny Bone, Holy Gall, Holy Gambles
Holy Gemini, Holy Geography, Holy Ghost Writer, Holy Giveaways, Holy Glow Pot
Holy Golden Gate, Holy Graf Zeppelin, Holy Grammar, Holy Graveyards, Holy Greed
Holy Green Card, Holy Greetings-cards, Holy Guacamole, Holy Guadalcanal, Holy Gullibility
Holy Gunpowder, Holy Haberdashery, Holy Hailstorm, Holy Hairdo, Holy Hallelujah
Holy Halloween, Holy Hallucination, Holy Hamburger, Holy Hamlet, Holy Hamstrings
Holy Happenstance, Holy Hardest Metal In The World, Holy Harem, Holy Harshin,
Holy Haziness, Holy Headache, Holy Headline, Holy Heart Failure, Holy Heartbreak
Holy Heidelberg, Holy Helmets, Holy Helplessness, Holy Here We Go Again,
Holy Hi-fi, Holy Hieroglyphic, Holy High-wire, Holy Hijack, Holy Hijackers, Holy History
Holy Hoaxes, Holy Hole In A Donut, Holy Hollywood, Holy Holocaust, Holy Homecoming
Holy Homework, Holy Homicide, Holy Hoodwink, Holy Hoof Beats, Holy Hors D'Oeuvre
Holy Horseshoes, Holy Hostage, Holy Hot Foot, Holy Houdini, Holy Human Collectors Item
Holy Human Pearls, Holy Human Pressure Cookers, Holy Human Surfboards, Holy Hunting Horn
Holy Hurricane, Holy Hutzpa, Holy Hydraulics, Holy Hypnotism, Holy Hypodermics, Holy Ice Picks
Holy Ice Skates, Holy Iceberg, Holy Impossibility, Holy Impregnability, Holy Incantation
Holy Inquisition, Holy Interplanetary Yardstick, Holy Interruptions, Holy Iodine, Holy IT and T
Holy Jack In The Box, Holy Jackpot , Holy Jail Break, Holy Jaw Breaker, Holy Jelly Molds
Holy Jet Set, Holy Jigsaw Puzzles, Holy Jitter Bugs, Holy Journey To The Center Of The Earth
Holy Jumble, Holy Karats, Holy Key Hole, Holy Key Ring, Holy Kilowatts, Holy Kindergarten
Holy Knit One Purl Two, Holy Knock Out Drops, Holy Known Unknown Flying Objects
Holy Kofax, Holy Las Vegas, Holy Leopard, Holy Levitation, Holy Liftoff, Holy Living End
Holy Lodestone, Holy Long John Silver, Holy Looking Glass, Holy Love Birds,
Holy Luther Burbank, Holy Madness, Holy Magic Lantern, Holy Magician, Holy Main Springs,
Holy Marathon,,Holy Mashed Potatoes, Holy Masquerade, Holy Matador, Holy Mechanical Armies
Holy Memory Bank, Holy Merlin Magician, Holy Mermaid, Holy Merry Go Around,
Holy Mesmerism, Holy Metronome, Holy Miracles, Holy Miscast, Holy Missing Relatives
Holy Molars, Holy Mole Hill, Holy Mucilage, Holy Multitudes, Holy Murder, Holy Mush
Holy Naive, Holy New Year's Eve, Holy Nick Of Time, Holy Nightmare, Holy Non Sequiturs
Holy Oleo, Holy Olfactory, Holy One Track Bat Computer Mind, Holy Oversight Holy Oxygen
Holy Paderewski, Holy Paraffin, Holy Perfect Pitch, Holy Pianola, Holy Pin Cushions
Holy Polar Front, Holy Polar Ice Sheet, Holy Polaris, Holy Popcorn, Holy Potluck
Holy Pressure Cooker. Holy Priceless Collection of Etruscan Snoods. Holy Pseudonym
Holy Purple Cannibals, Holy Puzzlers, Holy Rainbow, Holy Rats In A Trap, Holy Ravioli
Holy Razors Edge, Holy Recompense, Holy Red Herring, Holy Red Snapper
Holy Reincarnation, Holy Relief, Holy Remote Control Robot, Holy Reshevsky
Holy Return From Oblivion, Holy Reverse Polarity, Holy Rheostat, Holy Ricochet
Holy Rip Van Winkle, Holy Rising Hemlines, Holy Roadblocks, Holy Robert Louis Stevenson
Holy Rock Garden, Holy Rocking Chair, Holy Romeo And Juliet, Holy Rudder, Holy Safari
Holy Sarcophagus, Holy Sardine, Holy Scalding, Holy Schizophrenia, Holy Sedatives
Holy Self Service, Holy Semantics, Holy Serpentine, Holy Sewer Pipe, Holy Shamrocks
Holy Sherlock Holmes, Holy Show-Ups, Holy Showcase, Holy Shrinkage, Holy Shucks
Holy Skull Tap, Holy Sky Rocket, Holy Slipped Disc, Holy Smoke, Holy Smokes
Holy Smokestack, Holy Snowball, Holy Sonic Booms, Holy Special Delivery, Holy Spider Webs
Holy Split Seconds, Holy Squirrel Cage, Holy Stalactites, Holy Stampede, Holy Standstills
Holy Steam Valve (also uttered by Alfred in concern over a kidnapped Robin.), Holy Stew Pot
Holy Stomach Aches, Holy Stratosphere, Holy Stuffing, Holy Subliminal
Holy Sudden Incapacitation, Holy Sundials, Holy Surprise Party, Holy Switch A Roo
Holy Taj Mahal , Holy Tartars, Holy Taxation, Holy Taxidermy, Holy Tee Shot, Holy Ten Toes
Holy Terminology, Holy Time Bomb, Holy Tintinnabulation, Holy Tipoffs, Holy Titanic
Holy Tome, Holy Toreador, Holy Trampoline, Holy Transistors, Holy Travel Agent
Holy Trickery, Holy Triple Feature, Holy Trolls And Goblins, Holy Tuxedo
Holy Uncanny Photographic Mental Processes, Holy Understatements,
Holy Underwritten Metropolis, Holy Unlikelyhood, Holy Unrefillable Prescriptions
Holy Vat, Holy Venezuela, Holy Vertebrae, Holy Voltage, Holy Waste Of Energy
Holy Wayne Manor, Holy Weaponry, Holy Wedding Cake, Holy Wernher von Braun
Holy Whiskers, Holy Wigs, Holy Zorro

Best of One Last Soul #4

This is a series of the seven highest blogs out of the current pageview count of over 66,000 since I started, now 5 years ago.

A more recent one using the extensive resources of the New York Public Library

Tar Very Much

Cigarette or tobacco cards began in the mid-19th century as premiums, enclosed in product packaging.

They were usually issued in numbered series of twenty-five, fifty, or larger runs to be collected, spurring subsequent purchases of the same brand.

Typically, these small cards feature illustrations on one side with related information and advertising text on the other. The height of cigarette card popularity occurred in the early decades of the 20th century, when tobacco companies around the world issued card sets in an encyclopaedic range of subjects.

After a slump during the First World War, popularity resumed, with new emphasis on film stars, sports, and military topics. Plants, animals, and monuments of the world remained perennially favourite themes.

While most cards were produced by conventional offset or other economical commercial printing processes, a few series were issued as original gelatin silver photographs or printed on silk or linen fabric; others were created as puzzles or paper toy cut-outs.

The appeal of contemporary cigarette cards fell by the 1950s, ceasing their production and distribution.

Thanks to the decision by the New York Public Library (NYPL)to open up their digital archives to the public domain just this year (2016) the Library's extensive, international collection of tobacco cards, which now numbers more than 125,000 individual items, including more than 3000 complete sets is now available for unrestricted use.

Most acknowledgements in the donations are in the name of George Arents, He did not collect cigarette cards but provided an endowment for the continued growth of his comprehensive collection on tobacco (whose processing and packaging had provided his fortune), which he had begun donating to NYPL in 1944.

 In addition to literature and artworks, the tobacco collection's scope has come to encompass a wide range of visual materials and printed ephemera associated with that commodity. The cigarette cards were acquired by curators in the 1960s and later .

The number of Tobacco and Cigarette companies producing collectors cards in the halcyon days of the genre is indicative of the popularity of smoking amongst the population at large and prior to the knowledge of the risks to health of nicotine and tar constituents.

Some of the names are still around today including the global concerns of John Player, Wills, British and American Tobacco, Lambert and Butler  and others are deeply rooted in popular culture even if no longer trading such as Capstan, Pirate, Copain, Mitchells and the evocative sounding Churchman.

The cigarette cards covered many topics and subjects and with my compilation of a brief A to Z being representative of a very small proportion of the total breadth and depth of studies.

Actresses, Birds, Cricket Players, Dogs, Eggs,Feminine Beauty, Gods, History, Insignia, Jockeys, Kings of England, Legends, Motorcycle Racing, Natural History, Ocean Liners, Paintings, Queens, Race Horses, Stagecoaches, Theatres, Undressing, Vehicles, World War 2, X-rated, Yachts and Zoos.

The more obscure collections include racism, family violence, banana peels, wombats, turnstiles, spanking, poor persons, see saws, robberies and dingos.

The cards also teased and titillated with some pretty risque posed photographs of ladies undressing, models posing and a lovely lady below from Peru messing about on her flower clad bicycle.

Almost makes you want to take up smoking..................................or cycling in South America.

                      (Photo reproduced gratefully from the New York Public Library Archives)

Best of One Last Soul #3

This is a series of the seven highest blogs out of the current pageview count of over 66,000 since I started, now 5 years ago.

A very early one from 2012

Shaken and Stirred

A local hotel is advertising, amongst its seasonal events, for December 2012 what they call a 'James Bond Christmas'. Here goes........

Commander Bond lay under the duvet cover. The distant sounding of church bells reminded him that this was indeed Christmas Day.

He had got in at about 9.30pm from yet another of  'M's festive gatherings. It had not been that exciting. He had returned alone. Moneypenny had gone home even earlier, after all she was an old lady and no fun. M's quiche had made him a bit bilious and the dry martini's had not been enough to quell the acidity in his stomach.

He let one go under the heavy winter tog rated bedding and casually wafted it away into the gradually increasing natural light of his flat. What to do for Christmas Day?

He swung a leg out, feeling for the thick pile of the carpet. Pulling his heavy built form upright he found that his onesie had ridden up during the night with some constriction of his lower abdomen. It was a legitimate reason for a prolonged scratch and re-arrangement of his undercarriage.

The flat was cold and he cursed not mastering the central heating thermostat in the twenty years of his occupation. He had no time for manuals. 'Q' had been kind enough to show him the settings for instantaneous hot water and radiator heating. They had been very similar to the afterburner controls on Little Nelly and a nasty and expensive quarterly gas bill had been the consequence of a degree of confusion accordingly.

A light, healthy breakfast appealed to him. Those long sessions at the Casino in recent years had ruined his physique .He had contracted and only just recovered from a nasty virus from , he suspected, the sampled contents of a small bowl of mint imperials at the coat-check counter near the toilets in Monte Carlo.

He was disappointed by the contents of the fridge. The orange juice was 'with bits' which he had bought from M&S without checking. He infinitely preferred smooth. No yoghurt, no bran or porridge oats so he settled for a lump of cheese and half a packet of cream crackers. The onesie successfully captured any fragments of the flaky Lancashire and biscuit crumbs in its thick, luxurious velour giving the faux tiger-skin print the appearance of a dandruff outbreak.

Living the life of a bachelor, out of the normal hours of his regimented and disciplined professional assassin duties, the living room was a tip.

He stumbled over a collection of take-away cartons,pizza boxes and discarded clothing-all his. A pint glass full of the discarded shells of pistachio's fell and rolled across the parquet floor gradually decanting its contents. A few well place martial arts kicks cleared the rest of the debris under the DFS corner suite and Ikea wall unit. The DVD's would have to be sorted later from an unruly pile. The movie of 27 Dresses at the top caused him to pause and recall how he had enjoyed the plot and sentiment of such a well structured and acted rom-com.

As Commander Bond dragged the Dyson bagless around the room he made an instinctive check for any signs of intrusion whilst he had been at M's reception. Trip wires and carefully adhered strands of his chest hair were still in situ. It was disappointing not to be the subject of any nefarious intentions during the holiday season. How was he expected to keep his hand in?

The number of Christmas cards on the mantelpiece was well down this year. This was, he mused a combination of how convincing his manufactured death had been earlier in the year resulting in many deletions by Facebook friends and the trend amongst fellow assasins to occassionally have to kill each other.

The unsigned, oversized padded card depicting an alpine scene was definitely from that rascal Blofeld. He had a decent sense of humour under that serious visage of world dominating villainy.

The morning passed quickly. Feeling peckish after his exertions of a man's comprehension of cleaning and hoovering he chipped away at the slab of ice which had consumed his freezer compartment and recovered a couple of ready-meals which would do nicely for his Christmas dinner. The combination of Tikka Masalla and Hot Pot was novel but palatable. Dessert was a bit more of a challenge but the Angel Delight was soon whisked into a firm peak that briefly and erotically reminded him of past conquests.

The controllers at the 'Licenced to Kill' desk deep in the MI5 building received a text from Bond and they duly sent him the TV listings for the rest of the day . He did not expect HM The Queen to expand on their skydiving antics into the Olympic Stadium in her traditional address to the nation. He knew she had enjoyed it on an altogether private level by her whoops and screams and covert and playful cupping of his groin on the descent through the late July sky over London.

Next he knew, it was dark outside the flat. He had dozed off, sprawled across the settee, and with a dribble of spittle running down his chin, a faint tint of butterscotch discernible. Annoyingly he had missed the blockbuster film and no-one had availed him of the operational details of the i-player.

Strictly and Downton thrilled him for the rest of the evening. He would never be asked to participate on the dance floor because of the intricacies of his professional lifestyle.This was a life regret.  His enjoyment of the Period Drama had been tempered by his instinctive identification of access and escape roots in the stately home and the best place to set off a diversionary explosion for maximum mayhem amongst the sinister looking below stairs staff, all ex KGB without doubt.

The latter part of the day was now dragging. The invitations to a 'Christmas At Home' from a selection of gangsters, sociopaths and the criminally insane remained on his antique escritoire, opened but not responded to. A threat of menace and a long monologue about blah, blah, ransom, blah, blah, extortion, blah, blah, gold reserves and the prospect of a scorching of nether regions by a high powered laser was now of some attraction when in the past it had just been part and parcel of the job.

It was a pity that he had not forged better links with those he had collaborated with on his missions. That Felix Leiter was a personable chap but obviously had problems of self image based on his frequently radical changes in appearance and skin colour.

He poured himself a Baileys over ice (chipped from the freezer compartment) and gorged himself to the point of being nauseous on the After Eights, a raffle prize at 'M's with the proceeds going to support the families of disavowed agents.

James Bond contemplated starting a diplomatic incident to alleviate his boredom. A convincing non-nuclear conflagration of the Home Counties was well within his capabilities from just the contents of his lock up garage in Twickenham.  His life story, auctioned to the tabloids would keep him in the style in which the public percieved him to exist.

In reality and out of abject loneliness he found that crying himself to sleep on Christmas night was a form of light and therapeutic relief. As always, he firmly believed that it would be different next year....for sure.

Best of One Last Soul #2

This is a series of the seven highest blogs out of the current pageview count of over 66,000 since I started, now 5 years ago.

This is from 2015

Musicology

My formative years spanned, in my opinion, the greatest period of music.

I was born in 1963 when popular music was in its first major transition from somewhere middle of the road characterised by inoffensive style and middle age appeal typically to an accompaniment of a big band, orchestra or choir to the emergence of solo singers and groups in a true rock and roll spirit.

The following twenty years saw tremendous developments in different genres born out of the inspirations, environment, opinions and outlooks of an increasingly confident and demonstrative younger generation.

Out of the post war recovery and boom came stability and affluence which allowed youth culture to exert their previously largely ignored status and influence.

I was slow to join the ranks of my contemporaries mainly down to the fact that I lived in a small and parochial town where there were very few role models and just the one independent record shop, if you discounted the sanitised and chart biased record department in the local Woolworths store.

I am ashamed now, but was oblivious then in 1974 , to admitting that my first actual vinyl purchase was, well, equally embarrassing, either I am confused to recall The Streak by Ray Stevens or Remember You're a Womble by whoever controlled that band of litter gathering and kleptomaniac puppets living in the wilds of Wimbledon Common.

Things did not improve any for around the next four years as I drifted in and out of the collected albums of my parents which included sounds as diverse as Sandie Shaw to Abba, The Brighouse and Rastrick Brass Band to Cliff Richard . I seemed to have missed the Glam Rock and Disco eras completely as these were distinctly city and urban centre based. Both of these came and went, either fading out naturally in the case of the former or bludgeoned by a combination of racism and homophobia marshalled against the latter.

I remember one extremely cringeworthy moment at school when we were asked to bring in a favourite record, play it to the class and then explain why you liked it. My peers arrived clutching the latest Sex Pistols album, heavy and progressive rock classics from Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Queen and a few obscure psychedelic offerings borrowed or stolen from older siblings.

When it was my go I brought out from under my uniform blazer a square cover with a photograph of a rocky high mountain and duly placed its contents on the hi-fi turntable. I must have swayed a bit and mimed the vocals of the song as the classroom erupted in a mixture of scorn and disbelief at the sound of Rocky Mountain High by the diminutive, bespectacled country and western icon of John Denver. That was possibly the lowest point of my relationship with popular music but understandably from a very low base only.

Things could only get better and in 1978 I bought, second hand, a tatty copy of Blondie's Paralell Lines. There followed a rapid accumulation of vinyl and cassettes, the latter badly recorded directly from the transistor radio speaker or pirated from the record collections of friends.

1979 was a good year for me in many respects mainly as a consequence of a house move to a larger, more lively town and just a short bus or train ride away from a thriving regional city. I could re-invent myself in the new surroundings and this was achieved with the help of the purchase of a tartan lined donkey jacket, drainpipe jeans, floppy jumper, suede boots and a new found attitude.

There followed the trends of New Romantics, New Wave, Mods and British Heavy Metal, Electro-pop, Ska and Reggae. A momentous period, the best in music.

Best of One Last Soul #1

This is a series of the seven highest blogs out of the current pageview count of over 66,000 since I started, now 5 years ago.

Routemaster is from my volunteer duties of the 2014 Tour de France on it's Stage 2 through Yorkshire

Route Master

We have been well equipped and trained in readiness for our Tour Maker duties.

Hat, sensible versatile trousers, rain jacket or polo shirt, the prospect of an umbrella.

Flag technique, crossing point protocol, public relations and being happy to help.

This should prepare us for most foreseeable scenarios but in my experience of marshalling at local and national cycle events you should expect the unexpected so how about considering the following tools and aids.

Stiff Yard broom- you may want to spruce up that few square metres that you have responsibility for. There will always be a bit of wash-out from a field gate or pile of loose chippings with implications for traction or untimely punctures under narrow racing tyres.

Shovel- look out for road-kill on the carriageway which could have an impact on the race if becoming wedged in spokes or chain, not to mention sprayed up into the Peloton.

Flash liquid- that bollard, road signage or traffic light pole could do with a bit of a clean and polish from accumulated dirt and grime. Have pride in your surroundings.

Bin bag- always useful to gather up those pesky McDonalds bags that tend to drift about in the eddying currents of a hot tarmac road.

Can crusher- after having chased an empty can of strong lager along part of the Tour Route this is a useful piece of kit to exact some satisfying revenge.

Body armour- the riders, particularly in the latter miles of a race stage will seek to eject their empty and surplus water bottles in indiscrimate fashion. A salvaged and washed bidon is useful for your own cycling activities.

Crash helmet- complimetary to the body armour for more of a loopy throw of a bottle out of the peleton.

Thick skin- essential to deflect rude comments by the public, particularly those from older couples trying to tow a caravan to the seaside along the designated race route and expressing indignation about being delayed by a lot of push-bikes.

Shoe box- useful to collect wild animals who with little understanding of Bicycle racing tend to wander willy-nilly all over the road. Hedgehogs can be picked up using the aforementioned bin bag. Frogs and Toads can be cornered and scooped up. Ducks and ducklings can be steered to safety using the shoe-box lid.

Shepherds Crook- for those on the upland and moorland sections this is an essential piece of kit for those errant sheep and stubborn cattle.

Dog treats- it always helps to have some choccy drops available to coax that stray hound or panicked pet out of harms way.

Handy wipes-all of the above promote sticky hands and perspiring brows. You must be able to grip that flag and blow that whistle in a hygienically efficient manner.

Swiss Army Knife-just for those moments when you do need to get a stone out of a horses hoof.

Clothes Pegs- helps to keep barrier mounted hoardings in place if whipped up by the wind.

Duct Tape- multi purpose for fixing anything to anything.

Toothbrush and hairbrush or comb- of course you do want to look your very best in case Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen notice your contribution to the smooth passage of the Tour de France on Yorkshire soil.

Finding Yourself

Picture yourself on any part of the British Coastline.

You may have walked a bit in bare feet along the frothy shoreline or scrambled in an undignified manner over a rocky cliff path. The light sand of the dunes makes any forward progress difficult and there can be a feeling of panic when those distant waves and the water level begin to rapidly approach and rise where a few moments earlier there had just been a rippled and worm caste expanse. The beguiling beauty of our coastline has never been more poignant than in recent weeks following a number of tragedies and the perishing of those in both seemingly calm and storm-driven seas.

Away from harms reach there are the rewards of great elevated views and sense of wind blown isolation from a cliff top.

These experiences may be spread over many years of family seaside holidays. Short stretches of coastal path will have been travelled to stretch legs after a large cooked breakfast in the harbour bed and breakfast establishment or as a welcome blow of the cobwebs on New Years Day.

On a summer evening there can be a cool respite from the hot of the day from an offshore breeze.

In such a wonderful setting a thought may creep into our consciousness of what would it be like to travel the full circumference of our nation's coastline.

I met someone today who in 1985 did just that.

That year had been a turning point in his life. The death of his father brought about a transition from his role as a son to that of the new elder of the family. I can sympathise with this huge change and emotional upheaval from the death of my own father in recent years.

Those events in his life set his mind upon some form of pilgrimage or quest in the manner of many over the generations for the purpose of self discovery and to define the man.

The round coast walk started in his home city of Hull on the North Bank of the Humber Estuary.

In an easterly direction the inaugural stage of the epic journey hugged the course of that great river which carries one fifth of the whole drainage of the UK sweeping round to the natural promontory of Spurn Point (now sadly decimated following the tidal surge of December 2013).

The appearance of blisters at the end of the first day did not bode well for the rest of the trip but in an act of true instinct and improvisation just soaking the exposed flesh of the feet in the salt water of the waves was soothing and healing.

The rough daily average of 20 miles was against varied and typically inclement weather, rough track ways and inevitable long detours created by inlets, rocky outcrops, river estuaries and obstacles of a man made and natural form. This may, on a daily basis, have seemed an insurmountable target.

The challenge also involved sleeping out with added complications of selecting a safe camping ground preparing meals and having sufficient time to recover for the efforts of the next day.

The traverse of the coast from Hull is anti-clockwise with the sea always present either in view or just over the immediate horizon on the right hand side.

Within a couple of weeks our intrepid walker had reached Scotland.

A degree of back up and support is required and this was provided in material form by sponsorship of clothing and equipment and by the hovering presence of a supply chain team with essential replacement boots and dry socks.

The walk was also in the name of an overseas charity to equip an aircraft to serve as a medical resource in India.

Looking at a map of the British Coastline does give an impression that some very significant deviations would be necessary inland to skirt around main rivers and major physical features. The rule appears to have been that in such circumstances the first bridge point to be reached must be crossed and the path taken up back towards the main coast route.

There are well trodden long distance paths around the coast and these will have formed some of the easier ways in stark contrast to improvised routes in the remoter regions. The most memorable stretches of the walk were evidently across the top of Scotland into Wester Ross, a true Highland landscape but the desolation of long-abandoned industrial wastelands also made an impression.

Those who have undertaken this great endeavour have measured the total distance from between 5000 to 7000 miles in total.

Our man recorded a very impressive 7500 miles upon his return to Hull and in an elapsed time of 54 weeks which appears to be something of a record.

The feat was certainly life affirming through the daily discipline and toleration of pain and should be recommended to all seeking to find themselves and their place in this world....or you could just find somewhere quiet to meditate and avoid all of the above.