Posts Tagged ‘P&O’

Relections

Posted: February 2, 2015 in Cruising, P&O, Travel
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Flying Fish

Sitting on the balcony at 07:30 this morning, with the temperature hovering around 75f, in my shorts and (coffee stained) t-shirt (I got a thick ear for the t-shirt) I was mesmerized by the sight of so many flying fish as we sailed across the Atlantic off the coast of Guyana towards Trinidad. I wondered why these creatures take to the air when the natural habitat is in the sea. I assumed they were all trying to get away from predators but came to the conclusion that as the fish were doing this for so long, the predator must have been the Adonia (our cruise ship). I watched them as they came out of the sea and ‘flew’ across the tops of waves before once more returning to their natural element. I watched them as they came out singly; I watched them as they came out in large groups (as shoal becomes flock becomes shoal). I watched them as they covered amazing distances rising and falling above the rolling seas; I watched them as they ‘flew’ and even changed directions. I watched them for an hour, maybe longer. Then Mrs Me arose from her pit (bed), breaking my peace and solitude and demanded her morning tea: “Right away My Duchess” was my response as I scurried away to tend to my husbandly duties leaving the flying fish to their strange existence.

So Near, Yet So Far

The phrase Drive By is an often used / heard phrase though normally related to bad deeds. Well on the Adonia we were treated to a ‘Cruise By’ of Devils Island – home to the perpetrators of bad deeds: Devils Island was previously used as a French Penal Colony (until 1953) for really naughty people (murderers, political embarrassment, constant escapees, etc.). The islands, there’s three altogether, look like idyllic tropical islands but I doubt the naughty people shared the same thoughts. I so desperately wanted to get onto these islands but the sea state was such that a ‘Cruise By’ was all we would be able manage. As we approached the islands on our starboard side (that’s on the right for normal people) and just about every passenger clamored for the best spot from which to take photos. You’re truly was stuck at the back, temporarily, but, under the authoritative direction of Mrs. Me, I did manage to worm my way forward. But then, my sea going skills, possibly just guesswork, worked out that the boat would not be able to carry on right round the islands and that she would have to turn around and come back with the Islands to Port (on the left) and with this new found knowledge I instructed (I know, I was taking my life into my own hands here), but yes, ‘I instructed’ Mrs. Me to accompany me back the cabin: “not at this time of the day she said”. “No” I said, and then I explained that from our balcony we would have grandstand seats from which to view the islands. Finally she agreed but only after the promise of a large gin & tonic with ice and lemon. From there I was able to take some amazing photos, all of which are securely trapped in my nice shiny new camera with no means to transferring them to my laptop. Why? Because the adapter I brought had been damaged; through my own ineptness I had managed to bend half the pins rendering it useless. So the pictures will have to wait.

The Amazon / Tapajós

Visiting the Amazon was to be the highlight of our trip consisting of two days sailing along the mighty Amazon River and a day spent ashore at in the town of Santarem, located as it is, on the Tapajós River.

IMG_2073

As we crossed the sandbar into ‘effectively’ the Mouth of the Amazon, we were still 60+ nautical miles away from the nearest lands! Yet even here, the water had turned into the muddy brown colour for which the river is well known.

Our first port of call, which was actually a 2-hour stop in the middle of the river, was at Macapa: This was to allow immigration officials and river pilots to join us, for the duration, to help navigate the river – sounds to me like a cool 3-day jolly if you ask me. Once on board, we set off and through the course of the first day, the Amazon unveiled its beauty for all to see: we passed isolated dwellings, little more than huts; sometimes built on stilts to lift them above the flood level, where the inhabitants would wave at us or even try to chase us in their little, woefully underpowered, boats. I have no idea whet would have done if they’d caught up with us (perhaps they were pirate scouts), but they never did, though it was quite amusing to watch them bob about somewhat precariously in the wake of our ship :-).

Day-2 brought us into Santarem and as we drew towards our mooring yours truly was dispatched by Mrs. Me to report back on our progress and to let her know, supported of course by her morning cup of team, when it was a suitable time for her to arise and view the town. When she did eventually surface, the temperature on our balcony, as indicated by my Garmin, was 97.7f: in anybody’s book, that is hot and for which I received my first thick ear of the day, for not warning her. But, arise she had to, as we were booked to take a boat trip to see the meeting of the waters, view locals wildlife and do a spot of piranha fishing.

The ‘Meeting of the Waters’ is an anomaly where the muddy brown waters of the Amazon River and the brilliant blue waters of the Tapajós River meet but don’t actually mix for a couple of miles and as such the two waters can be seen side by side as you sail along.

The brown is the Amazon

After this we went to a smaller tributary to view the wildlife, you know the sort, cows, sheep, chickens, water buffalo, iguanas, sloths, vultures, etc., etc. Oh, we also saw some more local dwellings on stilts. After a while we stopped and started fishing for Piranha. Mrs. Me took her place on the boat between my and another gentleman and inevitably, after the other gentleman and I had pre-baited [her] swim, Mrs. Me hooked a Piranha and, accompanied by all sorts of squeaks & squeals, she eventually brought the poor creature on board for us all to look at. I took photos, of course I did, but they are stuck on my big camera, so they will have to follow but be assured, despite me wanting get a picture of Mrs. Me kissing the Piranha, the fish was having none of it and stayed firmly with the hook and line; probably a wise choice as she would have probably have just eaten it.

Next will be tales of Caibbean Islands, and Captains Gala Parties. and, hopefully, pictures from my camera.

Byeee

 

Cruising with Alfie Boe

Posted: June 1, 2014 in Cruising, P&O, Travel
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Mrs Me and I had never been on the Azura. Why? Because she was a sister ship to the Ventura and we had the most terrible time on her first Christmas Cruise. No need to go into detail as it’s all water under the bridge 🙂 now. Just save to say  that there were way too many people on board that really didn’t know how to behave in public, even to the point of people being locked up on board and booted off the ship at the next available port. But at least we got the teddy. But we didn’t have the Azura Teddy. There was nothing for it, the Azura was next on our hit list 🙂 and wow, what a fab ship she turned out to be: we will be going again on the Azura; we may even give the Ventura a go!

Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer

Looking through the, well thumbed brochure, we saw the mini-cruise to Bruges (Belgium) and St. Peter Port (Guernsey)  which also had Alfie Boe on board as guest / star entertainer. A quick phone call to Mother-in-Law (she loves Alfie Boe) and the decision was made. The cruise was booked there and then. We booked it in December 2013 and so had 5-months to wait. Fortunately, we also had a cruise booked for February /  March so we the wait was manageable – just.

When the final paperwork came through, which Mrs Me always takes charge of, she announced to me that there would be one formal night, which was to be a Black & White night: ‘Hmm’ thinks I, ‘a visit to Chichester is on the cards here, I just know it’. Sure enough, without me even seeing it coming, despite expecting it, and having just visited my Mummy, we [found ourselves] in Chichester, first in Russell & Bromley and then in Chesca. At a dizzying pace we had amassed a black & white dress plus a top of some sort plus a new pair of shoes (blue!). This woman is good: Real good.

Time to pack – for 4-nights

The day before we were to join the Azura, the packing began. Lined up ready for the off were one suit carrying case (big enough to take one formal suit, 3 shirts, 5(!) posh frocks, plus ties, cufflinks etc. One large suitcase for everything else and one mid sized suitcase for anything we ‘might need’. Mother-in-Law didn’t need a suit carrier so she just took two suitcases. Clearly, sailing from Southampton does remove the need to plan carefully when packing.

Jam Making

I don’t know the name of the company but I do remember once following a road works lorry with the slogan ‘Jam Makers since 1997’. I’ve always remembered the slogan. And today, as we head for the Ocean Terminal in Southampton, I think that lorry was back and had brought a load of his mates with him.  The traffic was diabolical with traffic nose to tail at just above stationary. No matter what lane I was in, the others seemed to be moving quicker. A journey that normally takes me 90 minutes took over 4-hours. My wrath knew no bounds, as I expressed my rage in Facebook. Oh, I do know how to let go you know.

Eventually, we made our way onto the ship and into our cabins. First impressions were good. The cabins were extremely well laid out with loads more room than I was expecting and better still, there was a box of Belgium Chocolates and a bottle of Champagne on ice  waiting in each cabin. This, I decided, was going to be a good cruise. All we had to do was get through the Life Boat Drill, a necessary event which we always want to skip but know that we mustn’t. Then, it was time to explore. Very quickly, we discovered the Glass House, which for some reason I kept referring to as the White Room, and the Blue Bar. These were to become our constant watering holes 🙂

But before all of this, we had been allocated tickets to see Alfie Boe in the PlayHouse Theatre. What a performer he was. Not only is he a great tenor but a great all round entertainer and brings the sound of opera, as well as other types of music, to the masses. He is a normal person who speaks like a normal person and has the ability to talk with you rather than at you. The two guitarists who accompanied him were also brilliant musicians and all in all, the three of them put on a remarkable show. I found myself sitting there, in the theatre on board a cruise ship listening and watching a performer who can pack the O2. This really was an experience. He did four shows while on board with tickets distributed evenly across all passengers and I believe nearly every one of them was used.

All at Sea

Bruges_Day_1

The next day was a designated sea day as we slowly made our way to Bruges (see map) above. Now, I do know that it is perfectly feasible to complete this journey, on a cruise ship, over-night yet on this cruise, the journey was going to take two nights and a day to complete. Believe me, we were going slow, very slow: I, yes I, could have cycled there in less time. But at least it gave us time to explore the ship and maybe, just maybe, seek something from the shops on board. Somehow, Mrs Me finds it nigh on impossible to go an a cruise ship without finding something sparkly to wear. This time, I was fortunate, the sparkly thing she found was actually for Mother-in-Law, which she paid for herself so all in all, this was indeed turning out to be a great cruise.

We explored the Glass House and sampled its wares. We tested out the Blue Bar and sampled its wares. We discovered the Planet Bar, right at the very top from where you can watch the ocean disappear behind us, only to be replaced by more ocean. From here you really can see nothing but sea. Very, very relaxing. Here too, we sampled its wares.

All to soon, it was time to dress for dinner, which to be the formal night. Remember me saying that I was told by Mrs Me that it was to be a Black & White Night for which she would need a new frock. Well, it wasn’t a Black & White Night at all. It was a standard Formal night but, giver credit where credit is due, she did wear her new Black & White dress and very nice she looked too. However, when asked as to whether her rear looked too big in the dress, all I could respond with was ‘I’m sorry, I have no point of reference to judge its size’ for which I got a thick ear. My cauliflower ear continues to be so. With my ear smarting, and wearing my nice white tuxedo, brought for the Black & White Night, we made our way to the Peninsular Restaurant for our evening meal. I have to say, the food and the service was excellent. The waiters and assistants all did their utmost to ensure we, and everybody else, enjoyed the whole dining experience as if we were the only ones there. I commend them all.

The next bit is a bit hazy, partly because of my smarting ear and possibly because of the wine but at some point during the evening, we espied one of many ships photographers: ah, I remember now, he was just outside the Glass House! Nothing unusual about seeing a photographer but this one was familiar. This one was called Adrian. This one used to be on the Arcadia. This one took our wedding photos when we were on the Arcadia in February / March (the wedding was in March, the cruise spanned both months). I could do nothing. Before I could say ‘look out Adrian’, Mrs Me made a bee line for the poor man. ‘Ooh Adrian,’ exclaims Mrs Me, ‘What are you doing here?’, threw her arms around him and land him with a big sloppy kiss (I winder what would happen if I did the same to one of the lady photographers. Actually, I know already: I’d ket a thick ear).  It transpired that as his contract ended with the Arcadia, he was offered a new one with the Azura. Mrs Me was happy: I can’t help feeling that Adrian was wondering if he is being stalked though.

That night, Alfie Boe was singing for the other half of the ship, in two sittings as per the previous night, so entertainment for us was to visit the Malabar Bar where they had a soul singer belting out, err, soul songs. Not a patch on Alfie but good nevertheless and, very pleasing on the eye – ouch, my ear hurts again :-(. And so, once again, with my ear smarting, we retire for the night: but not before a final nightcap on the balcony. As I stood there leaning on the rail, a surreal picture presented itself. We had stopped (look for the squiggly bit on the map just before Bruges) and dropped anchor. Clearly, we hadn’t gone slow enough and arrived too early. But, we were not alone, there were ships everywhere: all stationary: all anchored: all waiting; waiting to go into port. Wherever I looked, there were ships all lit up, probably just as well as they were all stationary, and it was dar, as if waiting for some mysterious event. Whatever the event was, I was going to bed, and so withe once last glance out to sea and one last slug of a rather nice malt whiskey, I retired.

Bruges – Again!

Having visited Bruges three time before, we were this time delighted to see that the day was dry – on all three previous occasions, it had rained – and so was looking forward to our trip into town.

Once in town, we were given instructions as to where to be and at what time for the bus to take us back to the ship (it would be an eleven mile walk back if we missed the bus!) and with that we were released into the town to do as we wish. And with that we headed off towards the town square. After about 30 minutes we turned back and headed for the town square, this time in the right direction but we didn’t care, after all, it wasn’t raining, yet!. For all that, I still like Bruges.

Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer

On the way, we decide to stop at a bar so that Mother-in-Law could sample the local waffles while tried a local beer :-).

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Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer

Then we noticed people scurrying around outside with umbrellas and rain hoods. Yep, it was raining. Time for another beer.

As the rain eased, we made our way back out into the streets and into the town square where we found loads of shops selling Belgium chocolates, yum yum. Naturally, we had to buy some. Actually, we bought a lot: I’m eating some them now. Laden down with our bags of goodies, we made our way back to the pick up point and back to the ship. But not without spotting a few bikes on the way.

Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer

Back on board, we ready ourselves for an evening of entertainment from a young comedian who was in Britain’s Got Talent, just after Susan Boyle so was difficult to remember. But remember him (Gareth Oliver), we should. Looking a bit like Russell Brand, he gave an excellent performance throwing his voice in ways I’ve never seen before an thoroughly confusing the sound man. Then, he brings up an unsuspecting member of the advance to help him with his next part of the show.

Attaching a false mouth over his face, he was able to make the passing come to life as one of his puppets and make him say things, mostly to the passengers wife in the audience that perhaps he wouldn’t say normally, not without getting a thick ear at least.

Now, remember how the journey from Southampton to Bruges took 2-nights and a day? Well, we now had to travel from Bruges, passing Southampton, to St Peter Port in Guernsey, overnight: which, we did with ease.

Bruges_Day_2

St. Peter Port – Again

Yes, we’ve been here before, many times, and only once have we ever managed to get ashore. The only way ashore is by tender, and we hate tenders (we had a bad experience once 😦 ) and this trip was to be no different. It was raining, it was misty and there was a enough movement of the sea for us to take the decision to stay on board and enjoy the amenities of the Azura. Speaking with some passengers on their return, while it was ok, it wasn’t a wholly pleasant experience so we’re glad we opted out.

The day was quiet and restful though we did spend a bit longer in the Glass House a bit longer, ok, a lot longer than we had planned such that by the time we did get up to leave, we were quite mellow with Rioja and Rosé. But, I did manage to finish compiling our wedding cruise book and get that off to the printers so the day was a good day.

Then there was the sail away. A good old fashioned traditional British sail away party to good old faithful songs from early years to [almost] current years. Everybody was in good voice while the wine flowed.

The evening was spent in Seventeen, a different restaurant aimed at providing a fine dining experience. We were already getting that in the main restaurant but here it was up to a whole new level. The food was to die for, cooked to perfection as it was, the service was superb and the wine was even better :-).

Then off to the PlayHouse Theatre to see the Azura Theatre Company put on a show to beat all shows. To date, I’ve always been rather neutral on Ships Theatre Shows but tonight was different. Tonight was spectacular as they presented some of the most iconic characters and soundtracks from British screens finishing with an homage to James Bond. Their use of strobe lighting and pyrotechnics definitely left us both shaken and stirred but in a nice way.

With the show behind us, it was time to hit the Blue Bar before packing as we set sail for Southampton.

Bruges_Day_3

 

Time now to plan our next venture.

 

 

1 More Sleep to Go

Posted: May 25, 2014 in Cruising, P&O, Travel
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Just 1 more sleep and then it’s Hello P&O Azura. Parp Parp.

Currently, Mrs Me is packing. Now we’re only going for 4-nights so we shouldn’t really need to take too much, but of course we are talking about Mrs Me here: Lover of Russell & Bromley and sparkly things and reluctant to leave anything to chance. Add to the mix that there will be one formal night and all of a sudden, packing for 4-nights becomes a logistical nightmare. She can’t for instance work out what to wear with her new dress, she bought yesterday (we never went shopping for a dress): She can’t decide between two black pairs, a nude pair, a black & nude sparkly pair or the new blue pair she bought yesterday (We never went shopping for shoes), so – she’s packed them all. The suit carrier is just about packed to the gunnels (many dress’s, 1 suit): The large suitcase is close to overflow and the medium case is now on standby.

No doubt it will work itself out though I dread the time we have to pack for the world cruise when I retire (we might need more cases). This is of course assuming I’ll be allowed to retired.

So, come in Azura,  many, many suit cases await you.

Go Podge, Go

1641 to go.

8 More Sleeps To Go

Posted: May 18, 2014 in Cruising, P&O, Travel, Uncategorized
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Yes, it’s that time again. The time when the countdown begins. The countdown to the next time I get on a Cruise Ship. It may only be for 4 nights but at least for a while I shall once more be sampling the delights of cruising: something I think I was born to do. So in the time honoured tradition, of mine at least, here goes.

All together now:

8 more sleeps to go;

8 more sleeps to cruising

8 more sleeps till this the big fat fella gets on that boat,

with his bird, and his [Mother-in-Law!]

8 more sleeps to cruising.

Yay.

This time, we’re going on the Azura with P&O, mainly because we haven’t been on her before (why are ships called her by the way?), we need to get the Azura Teddy and Alfie Boe is on the ship; and Mother-in-Law just loves Alfie Boe.

As the trip is just a short one, we’re clearly not going anywhere exotic such as Bora Bora or Tahiti or St Lucia or the Galapagos or The Philippines. No, we’re going to Bruges in Belgium (via Zeebrugge), often known as the Venice of the North but more importantly, Bruges has an abundance of Chocolate and Beer; though giving my dairy reduced diet, I somehow think Chocolate will be off the menu for me. Yeah, right. My one big concern however is that every time we’ve been to Bruges before, it’s rained – let’s hope that this time it doesn’t.

After Bruges we’re going to St. Peter Port in Guernsey. We’ve been there a couple of times (once on the QE2 don’t you know) before but were unable to land as the sea was too choppity for the tenders to be used to take us ashore safely. So, and given that I hate tenders, if there the slightest hint of a wave, I’m staying on board and relaxing by the bar. And for those concerned we might be missing the delights of Guernsey, don’t worry, we have managed to get ashore once before and on that occasion, Mrs Me did manage to find a shop that sells shiny sparkly things so staying on board does have its attractions.

This time next week, we’ll be packing and lecturing the boys about not having parties while we’re away and today, I may, just may, get one of my Bicycles out  and go for a little bike ride. If I do, and I hope I do, I shall report back on how I got on, assuming of course I can still [get on]. We shall see.

Until then:

Go Podge, Go.

Get Off Your Milk, and Ride Your Bike

Posted: April 27, 2014 in COPD, Cycling, general, Health, training, work
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As John Wayne might not have said 🙂

I have a confession to make. Back in 2013, I wrote a post called [Milk: Good Food? Bad Food?] where having suffered from a number of chest infections a good dear friend of mine who, if she is reading this will probably throw her arms up in despair and come round to box my ears, advised me to cut out milk and related products. As I so wanted, nay, needed, to get back out cycling and I did actually quite like the idea of breathing, I did as I was told and the differences were remarkable. I’m not saying I was cured but my breathing did improve and yes, I did get back out on my bike and did actually build up to doing 50 – 60 miles rides so that I could take part in a 500 mile cycle challenge though France which consisted of 7-days cycling included 70, 80, or even 90 mile rides. And it felt so good. Podge was back in the saddle. Still fat, but back in the saddle nevertheless.

Sadly, having completed the cycle challenge, my bike was returned to the garage and I fell once into a life of dietary abuse. Yes, I went back to milk products. The lure of Shreddies and CoCo Pops was just too great.  It’s important to note that I could of course justify my actions thus:

  • Shreddies are full of roughage so good for weight management;
  • Scientists, doctors & professors had responded (mainly via LinkedIn) to my article on Milk  to say that there was little or no evidence to suggest that Milk was bad for respiratory problems;
  • Shreddies gave me energy;
  • My breathing was fine now so no need to worry;
  • I had my 60th Birthday and my Wedding Cruise to get through;
  • I liked my Shreddies.

Naturally, and conveniently, I ignored the fact that so many other people with respiratory problems had also responded to my post to the effect that Yes, Milk had been shown to be bad and cutting it from their diets made dramatic improvement.

Thinking back, I find it curious that those in the know (doctors, professors, etc.), really don’t know and those supposedly not in the know (those that actually suffer) actually do know a great deal: They certainly do know that when they cut out milk, the difference is quickly apparent.

Of course, through those winter months and of course my two P&O cruises, all milk related matters faded into obscurity. I’m sorry again Liz. And I gorged my way around the Canaries. I abused my digestive systems all through Christmas and then I just went overboard (no pun intended) in gluttony as we sailed around Australia and on to Singapore.

Then, in March, my health took a turn for the worse which was exacerbated (see, I do know big words) by the worst air pollution London (where I work) has seen for many, many years. This time however, I was really bad, to the point of being frightened, almost to the point of wishing I didn’t have to breathe any more. The Vets, sorry, doctors, put me on a course of steroids and antibiotics. I ate all these up but there was no improvement: walking from bedroom to bathroom still left me fighting to breath. The Vets 🙂 gave me a load more steroids and some seriously sting antibiotics. I ate all these. Still no change, though I diid notice the antibiotics had a strange effect on me, with each tablet having a similar effect to that of eating a tin beans: In hindsight, thats the only effect they had on me. I was still struggling. I went back to the Vets. They were perplexed. I had no infection but I was clearly fighting to breath. So they tried  putting me on water tablets(!). These were supposed to help get rid of any water retention (I made the mistake of telling them that I had developed Cankles while on holiday, which I normally do). Still no effect. I’d had enough: I didn’t know what to do: it was genuinely getting me down, and frightened. And then I had a eureka moment.

As I sat on the Sofa, tucking into my bowl of Shreddies, mixed with Cheerios, I suddenly remembered what I’d been told back in 2013 (sorry again Liz) and I’d actually advocated. Milk, yes, Milk is bad for people with respiratory problems. And not just milk, but products related to milk, such as cheese, which I happen to enjoy as well; though not with my cereals of course, were also bad. And as I sat there, ‘enjoying’ my breakfast even though every spoonful was followed by a fight to draw breath once more, I knew the answer: I had always known the answer. My dear friend Liz had given me the answer yet I’d fallen by the wayside once more. Some people are addicted nicotine (I once was myself, cue COPD); some people are addicted to alcohol (I’m not, but I do like it, honest, I’m not, I just like it, a lot 🙂 ); some idiots are addicted to narcotics (best of luck to them): I however am addicted to Milk, and I needed to kick the habit: I’ve beaten Nicotine addiction so milk should be a doodle. And so, with that thought, I made the  break.

24 hours makes all the difference

24 hours really does make all the difference because having taken milk and milk related products out of my diet, the very next day saw a marked improvement, an improvement that has continued to be so on a day by day basis. My breathing is easier, I’m more relaxed and almost a pleasure to be around. I’m not cured, but I’m getting better. I’m still fat but I’ll get thinner. I’m still old and, I’m glad to say, I’ll get older (a couple of times over the past couple of weeks I did wonder about that). I’m still ugly, but then the Good Lord decided that ugly I would be so I’ll probably stay ugly. Though, as I have told Mrs Me on a number of occasions, I am quite a catch so maybe not so ugly after all. The main point is, my breathing is improving and so long as I stay away from milk, and lose a bit of weight, my breathing should continue to improve. I hope so, I’ve a garage full of bicycles screaming out to be ridden.

And so with that, I really am getting of my milk and riding my bike.

And I don’t care if the effect is Psychosomatic or the consequence of withdrawing milk, the result is the same: I can breath.

Go Podge, go.

 

 

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