BACK TO THE MUSIC....

.....and a piece that came to mind as I harked back to the days of childhood.  When I was seven, I developed a pretty serious kidney disease which kept me in Southampton Children's Hospital for a few months and resulted in me missing a whole year of schooling - something I`ve been trying to make up for ever since.

Of course, those were the days before television and after returning home from hospital I used to lay in bed and listen to Children's Hour on the old BBC Home Service.  The programme came on at 5.00pm each evening and did what it said on the tin, providing entertainment and education for young listeners like me.   It had regular features and also `drama series` usually with six episodes and it was the introductory music to these series that fascinated me at the time and still live in the memory from 70 years ago. 

I remember one series was called `Ballet Shoes` and the music which introduced it was Wolf-Ferrari`s Jewels of the Madonna.  Another was a series of talks on current affairs by Stephen King-Hall, which whilst not wildly entertaining nevertheless introduced me to the overture to Reznicek`s comic opera Donna Diana. It`s a happy, jaunty piece with a haunting melody. The opera is rarely performed these days but the overture is still a popular stand-alone piece at symphonic concerts and it`s easy to understand why.   Here it is.......

WHEREFORE ART THOU?

I`m reliably informed that the recent BBC series, Poldark, has come to an end, which seems to have caused a degree of consternation among his feminine devotees.  This reminded me of the filming locations in Cornwall which have now become increasingly popular destinations for Poldark buffs as well as providing local entrepreneurs with the opportunity to arrange Poldark Guided Tours.

One of those locations was the out-of-the-way fishing hamlet of Porthgwarra, at the foot of Gwennap Head, and we visited there a few years ago when I took these photos.  The first shows Porthgwarra in the rush hour, whilst the second shows Mrs. Snopper looking for all the world like Miss Woodruff in The French Lieutenant`s Woman wandering the Cobb at Lyme Regis in the forlorn hope that her hero might one day appear.    At least Mrs. S. has another Poldark series to look forward to.......

(Please click on photos for larger images)

To yet another crematorium, this time to Barham near Canterbury for yet another funeral which seems to be an all too frequent occurrence these days.   This one was for an old friend of mine, who had passed away after a difficult year.  We had known each other since our time at school together and throughout the years of our youth, playing cricket in the same village team and sharing many `youthful interests.` 

Some minor medical problem meant that he missed National Service, but I was conscripted into the university of military intelligence and so we lost contact, went our separate ways and didn`t meet up again until about 50 years later - some ten years ago now.   After all that time, we merely looked at each other and carried on as if the intervening years had not happened.  Such is true friendship.

He was a cricket buff - like me a devotee of the beautiful game.  We both relived the memories of our partnerships at the crease and he enjoyed the last 20 years of being President of Sturry Cricket Club, close to Canterbury.   And so it seemed entirely right that today, before a full house with a packed gallery and standing room only,  his wish, to leave us by being dressed for the occasion wearing his cricket whites, was fulfilled. 

Howzat?

APPEARANCES CAN BE DECEPTIVE...

......as I discovered yesterday morning, whilst out having walkies with our retriever.  I ventured into the backwaters of a nearby `country park` and took a few photos of the Autumn colours.  This one was along a peaceful riverbank and it shows a tranquil, almost seductive scene of quiet contentment.   And so it is....until you realise that just beyond that captivating hedge lies the major effluent treatment plant which deals with the `waste` from a big chunk of this part of Kent.   The scene is indeed lovely, but the scent perhaps needs a little work.......

(Please click on photo for larger image)

I didn`t sleep too well last night.  Things were on my mind and I kept wondering what the morning would bring but eventually I got some sleep and woke up, turned on the TV, tuned in to the only channel that mattered - and heard the news.

At first I wasn`t at all sure what to make of it but the reality of what had happened overnight finally hit home to me.   And I have to tell you that I greeted the news with something approaching disbelief.  But it was true after all and for the rest of the day I confess to having wandered around with a kind of smug grin on my face.

Yes, of course, the big surprise was that England, batting first in the first test match of the series in India had progressed to 198 for 3 and went on to end the day on 311 for 4, thanks largely to yet another fine century from Joe Root and also to Moeen Ali, who ended the day on 99 not out.  And with the likes of Stokes, who is still there, Woakes, Bairstow still to come and a tail that ends with Stuart Broad, there might be occasion for yet more smugness when I wake up tomorrow.

Now, rumour has it that there has been another surprise in the world today but please forgive me for sticking to my priorities.  After all, to be concerned with anything else on a day like today is surely the way to madness.

A sudden rush of decorating and associated tasks has kept me away from these pages for a while but now that week is over, I have had time to reflect on a few things which seem to be deeply troubling.

The week`s news has been dominated by the shenanigans concerning the `race for the White House` in the good ol` US of A.   And it troubles me considerably to see that that `race` is between a shrieking harridan of doubtful pedigree and a self-important mega-rich businessman with apparently no knowledge or experience whatsoever of politics, foreign policy or anything else to do with being the `leader of the western world.`  It truly is a choice between two of the least attractive presidential candidates there have ever been and, whoever wins, we are right to be uncertain as to what the future may hold.

And speaking of uncertainty, back here in our disunited Kingdom, there`s all the fuss about Brexit.  Now the issues and the arguments that surround it are too numerous, complex and arcane for me to even attempt to discuss them here.  But I wonder why I am deeply suspicious when I keep hearing politicians repeatedly declaring that they `of course respect the referendum result.`  I just have a feeling in my bones that we`ve seen this all before - the Irish referendum on the Mastricht Treaty springs to mind - and I just hope I live long enough to see the decree absolute finally arrive.

And so in a desperate attempt to lighten the gloom, I turn once more to football.  And what do I find this weekend?  The Saints, having seen off Inter Milan - yes, Inter Milan - last Thursday evening, stumble away to Hull City - yes, Hull City - yesterday afternoon; a result that really should not be allowed to stand.   After all, Southampton had so much more possession, more shots at goal, more corners than Hull City who had lost each of their last five games.   The result is clearly a mistake and so the game should be replayed, this time with the right result.   It`s obviously a case to be judged by the Independent Court of Arbitration in Sport, to be fair. 

And all the while, the mayhem in Syria, Iraq and other parts of our fractious planet remains unresolved.   As I started by saying, things seem to be deeply troubling.

SNOPPER `S ORNITHOLOGICAL SNAPS...

I``m quite pleased with some of the `wildlife` photos I took whilst we were walking the Cornwall coast path a couple of weeks ago.  This one caught a kestrel in flight, hovering over Beacon Cove just south of Mawgan Porth...........

.......and at Mother Ivy`s Bay I spotted this seagull waiting patiently for something to turn up.......

......please click on pictures for better image.

LAST ONE - HONEST...

This time last week (almost to the minute) we spent roaming along Constantine Bay to Booby`s Bay and back.  Another glorious morning, the only `incident` being yours truly being tackled from behind by a young golden retriever;  one minute I was admiring the sea, the next flat on my back admiring the clear blue sky.  No harm done and no animals were harmed during this episode, but maybe a yellow card for a reckless tackle from behind?

Here`s what Constantine Bay looked like last Friday morning from my vantage point.....

.....and then the long, 300-mile drive home through half of Cornwall, all of Devon, most of Somerset, bits of Wiltshire, Hampshire and Surrey and finally home to Kent, leaving behind memories of yet another unforgettable week and hopes for many more to come.......

THIS TIME.....PART FIVE...

To Crantock and up to West Pentire;  then down to the unspoilt, wonderful, Polly Joke, which has many attractions, not least being the complete absence of any `facilities` whatsoever.  So it`s just you and the beach and the tide and the cliffs and that fresh, clean Atlantic air.  When the tide is low, which it was when we visited, there are caves to explore and here`s a photo I took looking out from one of them......

.... and then on to Kelsey Head for a view of Holywell Bay but also to venture just off the coast path to look down at the seals lounging around on their own personal territory, The Chick.   Here they are.......

.....and to complete yet another memorable day, we returned to Polly Joke, had a pit stop and took the coast path around Pentire Point West and back to what passes for reality. (Sigh.)

THIS TIME LAST WEEK, PART FOUR.....

A quiet(ish), restful(ish) day when we decided to go to Padstow, well, because it was there I suppose.   Problem with Padstow is that it is so darned popular - people everywhere, dogs, `iffy` shops selling all the essentials required of the modern day holidaymaker, pasties, fudge, coffee in those annoying cardboard cup things, seagulls and quite the most exorbitantly priced `cakes and pastries` courtesy of a certain Mr. Stein.

Not for me really - I much prefer to be away from all that - but I was interested in the comings and goings in the harbour, which seemed to provide a haven of tranquillity from the hustle and bustle of the quayside...

(Please click on photo for a larger image)

THIS TIME LAST WEEK, PART THREE....

To Rock so as to call in at the letting agents to confirm our holiday booking for next Spring.   Then on to Daymer Bay then a walk along the Greenaway to Polzeath.   Along the way we dropped down to Broadagogue Cove to look for cowries.  

Polzeath is famous for its surfing beach but the village has little else to commend it, so we ventured inland alongside a big caravan park.  All around this area there are memories of Sir John Betjeman and we arrived at Shilla Mill, a watermill built in 1591.  I`ll leave it to Sir John to describe it far better than I ever could:-

From where the coastguard houses stood

One used to see below the hill

The lichened branches of a wood

In summer silver cool and still;
And there the Shade of Evil could
Stretch out at us from Shilla Mill.
Thick with sloe and Blackberry,uneven in the light,
Lonely round the hedge, the heavy meadow was remote;
The oldest part of Cornwall was the wood as black as night,
And the pheasant and the rabbit lay torn open at the throat.

And I felt, as we staggered through the eerie silence of the wood, how he must have felt and that, away from the surf and pasties of Polzeath, the `oldest part of Cornwall` is there still.  We found our way back to the tranquillity of Trebetherick and wandered down the lane passing next Spring`s holiday haunt and I felt at home again and at peace.

Anyway, here`s the photo I took of Shilla Mill, now - almost inevitably - a holiday let....

Th

THIS TIME LAST WEEK, PART TWO.....

.....saw us on the coast path again, this time from Harlyn Bay, around Cataclews Point, on to Mother Ivy`s Bay and up Trevose Head.   Another glorious day.  Well, the sun shines on the righteous?    This was Monday morning on the start of our walk at Harlyn Bay. Manic Monday?  I don`t think so.......

THIS TIME LAST WEEK....

.......we sat having a rest after walking the coast path from Mawgan Porth in Cornwall, high up on the cliff looking down on Watergate Bay.   As you can see from my photo, it was a glorious place to be on a glorious day.   Oh well, that brings an end to my Cornwall visits for this year.....but we`ve already made a booking for 2017.   When you see this, who can blame us?.........

ONE TO REMEMBER...

A couple of years ago, round about this time of the year, we were wandering along the bit of the south west coast path around Pentire Point and I looked down and was very taken not only by the sheer drop down but also the vivid, contrasting colours between the rock-face, the sea and the grasses at the edge of the path.  So I took this photo.  I remember it so well that I feel an urge to make a return visit.......

DOWN OUR WAY.....

`It`s nice to go travellin`` as it says in the song, but sometimes you find places and things down your way which surprise you.  Well, yesterday afternoon I took Barney for his walkies and explored our local Castle Lake.   And this is what it looked like in the early Autumn sunshine....... please click on photo for larger image:-

GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS..

The 2016 cricket season went out with its usual whimper a week or so ago and, as an aficionado of Hampshire I was naturally disappointed that they were relegated from Division One of the County Championship.  Not altogether unexpected, especially as at the end of the 2015 season they escaped relegation by a whisker on the last day of the season.

In this year`s final table, Durham finished a very creditable fourth and over the years since their entry into the County Championship in 1992, they have consistently produced test players and won the championship title on three occasions, as well as success in the one day competitions.   So it is regrettable that, today, Durham have been subjected to a series of sanctions as a result of spiralling debts and accepting a £3.8 million loan from the ECB to ensure their survival.

The swingeing sanctions include being relegated to Division Two, being deducted 48 points before the 2017 season even begins,  points deductions in the two one-day cup competitions, the withdrawal of Test status for their county ground at Chester-le-Street and a salary cap on terms to be settled by the ECB.   In anyone`s language, those penalties are none other than severe.

The powers that be have also decided that since Durham are being relegated, then Hampshire will retain their place in Division One, rather than Kent, who finished in second place in Division Two, being promoted.   

Now, as a Hampshire fan ever since my parents first took me to the old County Ground at Northlands Road, Southampton, in 1949 when I saw the county take on the New Zealanders, I should be happy that my county`s cricket team will still be playing in the top echelon.   And I suppose I am happy, although it is tinged with genuine sorrow at the plight Durham find themselves in and also a little embarrassment that Kent have not been granted the promotion they arguably deserve.   Good news and bad news indeed but it might call for a redefinition of the phrase `it`s not cricket?`

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST ?

It seems to be the case with us Saints fans that, when all appears to be going swimmingly, along comes an issue to make us think again.   The last five games undefeated - four of them wins - and five clean sheets including last night`s creditable draw away in Israel in the Europa Cup against a very useful Hapoel Be`er Sheva side.  The Saints are currently ninth in the Premier League and the future looked bright for the rest of the season.

And then along come the Telegraph revelations about alleged corruption in English football which have already resulted in the merciful departure of `Big` Sam Allardyce as England manager.  And now Saints Assistant First Team coach Eric Black appears to be implicated by allegedly `advising businessmen how to bribe lower league staff.` 

Mr. Black was appointed by Saints just a few short weeks ago as a qualified and experienced coach but also, crucially, a fluent French speaker which would be helpful to new French manager, Claude Puel, whose English was `patchy.`   Thankfully, M. Puel`s grasp of English has improved noticeably of late and so one element of Eric Black`s c.v. has become less crucial.

As I write, the Saints contingent is flying back from Israel and the club have yet to consider their position and of course it is tempting and perhaps premature to rush to judgement.   However, if there is a case to answer and the evidence becomes clear, the club will have little choice but to part company with Mr. Black if it wishes to retain its deserved reputation as an honest, family  friendly club.  

Last night, whilst the brouhaha over the departure of `Big` Sam Allardyce was in full spate, an altogether different football experience was to be found at the Proact Stadium, home of Chesterfield FC - nicknamed The Spireites after the extraordinary spire on the local church.   The visitors last night were Gillingham FC, for whom our street`s local hero, Scott Wagstaff, plies his trade as a pacy flanker, fleet-footed wingback or midfield dynamo, depending on the manager`s selection, the nature of the opposition and the job he is required to do in any given game.

Now, here in our quiet Kentish conclave there is an eclectic mix of football supporters - West Ham being prominent, if a little on edge - along with my neighbour, who is a died-in-the-wool Gillingham fan and myself as a lifelong Southampton supporter.  But we all have one thing in common, which is to have followed the fortunes of 26-year old Scott Wagstaff over the years since his apprenticeship at Charlton, through loan spells at Northwich Victoria, Bournemouth and Leyton Orient and cementing his burgeoning career at Bristol City and now Gillingham.  Shades of The Return of the Native indeed..

Last night, the Gills found themselves 3-1 down deep into the second half but then Wagstaff produced two moments of inspiration to secure a 3-3 draw and a priceless point away from home in the depths of Derbyshire.   The first was to tumble under a heavy challege in the penalty area with such conviction that the referee, one Trevor Kettle, had no choice but to rightly award the Gills a spot kick, which was duly dispatched by Wagstaff`s former Bristol City colleague, Jay Emanuel-Thomas, aka JET.

The second - as deep into added time as the 96th minute - saw our local hero latch on to a cross and bury the ball beyond the despairing clutches of the Spireites` sprawling custodian.  And it`s becoming increasingly the case that moments like that, in the real football world rather than the tainted circus of the Premier League, remind us that there is life and joy and honest endeavour to be had beyond the avarice, the assumed entitlement and the deeply unedifying spectacle of the self-styled `best league in the world.`

TOLD YOU...

I don`t know!   I leave these pages for a few days and when I return, what do I find?  It is, depressingly, that the main `story` exercising the press this fine September morning is not Syria or the Clinton/Chump head to head or the Labour `Party` Conference.  Oh no.  It is the allegations that England Manager, `Big` Sam Allardyce may have been a very naughty boy by trousering £400,000 for a shady deal with a football agency firm along with other misdemeanours.

Now all this apparently happened after his appointment but before he took charge of his first - and probably last - game as England manager.  I quite expect that he will claim exemption from disciplinary action on account of him suffering from asthma but I have to say I am not surprised that doubts concerning Allardyce`s `suitability` have come to light.

Just a few short weeks ago, following the announcement of his appointment, I ventured the dilemma as to whether watching football under his tutelage would bring back memories either of Jurassic Park or Back to the Future.  Well, his future now looks decidedly uncertain and without really wishing to kick a man when he`s down, I hope the Football Association do the decent thing and do what they should have done originally, which is to appoint an English manager for the England team who possesses attributes fit for the purpose.

He needs to know the game inside out, preferably having played it at a decent level; he needs to be personable, knowledgeable, articulate and possess an air with which the supporters of England football can have confidence.  Candidates may be thin on the ground but the FA should look to the south coast and have a word with those who run Bournemouth Football Club.  And the quicker they do so, the better.

IF CARLSBERG DID SUNSETS.....

......they would probably turn out to be like this one, which I managed to capture a week ago on a balmy, late summer evening on the south coast of Devon.......

No wonder I keep going back there.  And speaking of Devon, there`s a short piece of music by Patrick Doyle for the film score of the Oscar winning adaptation of Jane Austen`s `Sense and Sensibility.`  The short piece is called `Devonshire` and it captures the lyrical charm of glorious Devon.   Here it is.......