Skate, the Korean Way

My last post left Viv and I departing Penang for London at the end of April. Our overall plan was to spend some time in the UK with Indy, Cat and Charlie and then for our paths to divide: Viv to Bermuda with her Mum Ann whilst I would go to Rome with my tennis buddies for the Italian Open, pasta and wine. I would then head to Bermuda to reconnect and then we would all troop back to England and thence on to Greece, our ultimate destination and realistically the reason we were doing all of this traveling in the first place.

Despite the raising of Covid restrictions, fair to say that travel is not yet back to its pre-Covid levels of seeming normality. Simply handling all that bloody paper work and getting those tests is a real pain in the neck. But at least we are able to travel. First comment is to say that British Airways is just about hanging on. Number of flights may be fewer but they are trying hard.

On the way from Bermuda to London I couldn’t watch any of the drivel shown on BA’s appallingly low standard in flight fare that was in English. I did find a cooking show concerning 2 Korean chefs who flew to Malaysia to eat seafood and in particular skate.

As they discovered Skate is not found in Malaysia but various rays are, so their quest began in a Kuala Lumpur street market eating sting ray mostly in various ways.

They loved them all. I do too even though I haven’t been to eat ray in KL, only Penang in the north. One such favorite was skate cooked in a creamy durian sauce.

Durian is a soft fruit indigenous to Malaysia. It is everywhere in Penang. It is something you either love or hate. This is because it has the same texture, smell and to me anyway the taste of shit. 

One of the chefs loves durian, the other does not. The non lover found the dish delicious whilst the lover waxed and waxed ever more lyrical about it. It looked slimy to me. Thankfully no smellovision.

The chefs then went to eat at big restaurants, Malay, Chinese and Indian which are the three main ethnic groups in Malaysia. Having savored the fare (non sting ray fare) and lapped it up, they then decided to do a big cook up for their new Malaysian friends and feature skate which they would import from Korea.

Koreans love fermented food. Kimchi for example is fermented cabbage based. Fermented for the unwary means aged in polite terms or nearly rotten if you want to put it plainly. 

The skate was 15 days old.

Thank goodness for no smellovision!

They cooked a dish each. One chef prepared a sort of kimchi appetizer featuring deep fried fermented skate. The other cooked a dish where the skate was first braised then mixed in with a sort of Mediterranean salad featuring avocados. They also did a together dish featuring a cream of durian sauce.

The three chefs sat at a table excitedly discussing what they might expect and then the appetizer appeared. The kimchi and fried skate dish. They took their first bites. 

Silence.

I know that sound from my own experiences with cooking something. Probably the first time was when I was on a boat on the Norfolk Broads in England with some work friends. We took turns cooking and one day was mine for breakfast and I pushed the boat out. We'd had quite a bit to drink the night before so I thought a nice greasy cook up was in order, including a favourite of mine; fried bread. My mum always fried the bread in lard so I'd bought some and added it to the rest of the delicately fried goodies. To me it was great if perhaps a little leaden both on the plate and in the tummy after. To the others, it was just plain silence. I never had to cook again that trip. 

Back to the story...

One chef took a drink of water and said the dish was very interesting and contained flavors she’d never had before. This was the Indian. The Malay chef said ‘yes it was interesting and very nice’ before taking a sip of water. The camera didn’t show what the Chinese guest chef said.

The braised skate came out next and the guest chefs took a bite.

No silence this time. The Chinese chef said it reminded her of stinky tofu, something often found in Chinese cooking. The Malay chef said yes and after a little while again said it was nice.

The final durian dish came out. The Indian chef had left by now and generous portions were heaped out with rice. The two remaining chefs took a bite.

Clearly both chefs love durian for they waded in with gusto. Both said the creamy durian flavor dominated the dish …. Aka they couldn’t taste the fermented Skate, thank goodness!!

As someone who likes fresh skate very much, I think I may have struggled with these dishes. Great fun to watch though.

Starting Over

 Hello again!

I've decided to pick up the blog again. It's been a while for sure but then again we've had this Covid time, the various lock downs, restrictions and the rest and well, it was uncomfortable for sure but then again both Viv and I have been OK and despite things remain so. I am aware so many others were not this lucky so didn't really feel I wanted to blog whilst others weren't as lucky as me.

However, after nearly a couple of years we decided to head away from Penang. To start with we couldn't decide whether we would start in England or Bermuda but plumped finally for Bermuda. These are the only two countries we discovered where we had the 'right' to enter but mainly choosing Bermuda was because we felt being smaller, things would be better controlled. And they were.

What a palaver traveling is though.

I find it amazing to think that only two years ago I considered myself a sort of citizen of the world. Travel had become pretty much a right, not a privilege. We could travel practically anywhere in the world at any time without let or hindrance. The internet made it incredibly easy and fast both to plan trips, even extended trips, and pay for them, unlike in the pre internet era which sad to say I only just about remember. In some countries, there may have been some more onerous paperwork to assemble, but that was pretty much it. No longer. Controls the world over came slamming down. Border restrictions that had not been there before appeared with dramatic force. Travel has again become a privilege. Borders are back.

And those PCR tests!

At one point, I had 4 or 5 (my bad memory is trying to help) tests within a 10-day period and even though the kindly people inserting that long Q-Tip and twizzling it around comforted me that I would get used to it so long as I breathed in and flared my nostrils, nothing of the sort happened (even though I did as recommended). It remained consistently invasive and horrible. 

The first was the biggest shock and the most curious as I sat in the front seat of our car and the doctor applied the Q-Tip through the open window (he insisted Viv should sit in the back seat). I didn't realize that twizzly thing had to go quite that far up and I both jumped and yelped quite a bit making the doctor apologize profusely.  

Thankfully all negative though.

To celebrate I bought a new motorcycle!

Flanelled Fools

I miss cricket. I miss playing it. I miss watching it. I miss talking about it. I miss having ridiculous conversations about the game.

This is personal. I've played cricket since I was 6 or 7 when my mum would bowl to me in the back garden. Something clicked.

I love the smell of linseed oil (this is what you oil bats with). I miss the sound of leather on willow (bats are made predominantly of willow). I miss the buzz of insects on the lovely green cricket field. I miss the fantastic teas (every club would pride itself on the quality of the teas which was a huge highlight as well as a major factor in how you rated the opposition, definitely it was not skill), I miss the cricket fields themselves: when I was younger, virtually every village had a green in the middle of the village with a church, maybe two pubs, a memorial to the fallen and a cricket field upon which people would play football, hockey or rugby during winter. My cricket club's ground was in the middle of a park. The clubs would rent the fields but the cricket strips themselves would often be maintained by the parkies (sorry, the park keepers).

The strip at Cup Match in Bermuda

I miss the beer afterwards; the jugs if you made 50 runs or took 5 wickets. I miss the fines for transgressions during the match (more commonly these would be on tour). I miss the fact that after 12 hours on a weekend afternoon, the captain would come around and ask for your contribution to the match in the bar after the game was over (ridiculously cheap), most of which would go on beer shared with the other team. I miss the fact that most matches ended in draws (the best matches often ended in draws. Wins/losses were usually more one sided so less dramatic and certainly less enjoyable for one of the teams). I miss the bad umpire decisions (I could go on and on about this). I miss the scoring and the scoring books which required the skill of ... I don't know what the equivalent would be these days. Einstein couldn't have managed, that's all I'm saying. In short, I miss a lot of things.

The last match I played with Indy and Dee Dee: I miss this too.

In March usually, there would appear curious roped off areas in the middle of the larger open green spaces. Within this roped off area would soon appear the signs of a roller and more care from the mower for this was the strip; usually a number of long strips of grass side by side which during the summer will become the wicket upon which matches will be played. Care devoted now is essential for the slightest imperfection could result in the wicket becoming 'sticky'. All cricketers know what I mean for this is the language that all cricketers speak. These are the classic signs of approaching summer in England.

Cricket arrives in early April and leaves with regret in late September or early October, depending on the weather. It should be there now. No, it should be everywhere now in the northern hemisphere.

Our cricket season in Bermuda strictly followed the English season (for no very good reason as the weather outside of this time was perfectly good for cricket. Maybe the clocks going back cut off some time, but it certainly wasn't the weather). This meant that in July and August, if you were unlucky you could stand for hours on end under blindingly cloudless sky in monstrous heat and humidity. Personally, I stopped playing at the weekend in the longer format of the game some time in my 50's after getting out first ball of the match around 12.01 pm (LBW to a terrible decision which made it worse), standing as umpire from the end of the 2nd over for the remainder of the 50 overs (around 3 hours) and then taking my place in the field for another 3 hours whilst our opponents had their innings. I was a basket case by the end of the match. Nobody sympathised.

Moving to only after work evening games (I'd played evening matches since I was in my 20's as well as at weekends), I played until 2017 when we left Bermuda and there has not been a day that I haven't missed it. But, that is due to my choice not through regulations enforced by law (courtesy of coronavirus).

The upside of right now is that the BBC for example is re-running great old matches on both video and radio. The media is writing lengthy screeds eulogising matches, times and players from years gone by.

I read a terrific Guardian piece recently linking great players together throughout cricket's history via the Yorkshire great, Wilfred Rhodes. Mr Rhodes played in one of the greatest of Ashes test matches at the Oval in 1903 when England beat Australia by 1 wicket (this is known as Jessup's match) with the immortal words at the end from Mr. Rhodes being "we'll get 'em in singles".  He did.

Wilfred Rhodes

Every cricket enthusiast knows this catch phrase and will use it during their cricket careers, guaranteed. I have used it many times, not always successfully. In fact most often unsuccessfully but then again I wasn't Wilfred Rhodes. Mr. Rhodes played his last test match when he was 52 which was the basis of the story (first class cricketers playing past 50), the year before the incomparable Don Bradman played his first test match in England in 1930, and he had played his first test match in the same game as the great Victor Trumper played his first test match (he was Australian but I won't hold that against him) but more importantly this was the last test match of the even more legendary and incomparable W.G. Grace.

With WG at Lords

And then there are the insane rules... which of course everyone somehow intuitively knows. Or rather they used to. If you read the autobiography of Peter Ustinov (who? shows my age!), he made the wonderful comment that somehow if you went to school in England (he was Russian), you would absorb the rules of the game by osmosis even if you didn't play the game, and be able to talk intelligently about the LBW rule, how many different times a batsman can be out, the amazing varietals of the leg spin bowler in particular the googly, demonstrate with an orange how to swing a new ball, and a whole host of other wonderful arcane cricketing things.

Can other games do this?

How can summer be the same without this wonderful, wonderful game? Let's hope things loosen up before too long.

RTW sort of by Accident

Last week we returned from quite a long trip as it turned out. We hadn't meant it to be like this, witness the number of times we had cause to change airline reservations, but it sort of just happened.  The plan, if you can call it that, was to be in Zurich when our first grandchild would be born.... yes, I just slipped that in. Quietly. And yes, both Viv and I are very excited indeed! Around the same time however were a different couple of dates that we would not be able to change but which had to be included: namely a board meeting for me in New York as well as a 90th birthday party for Aunty Blanche in Bermuda.

Due date for the big day was 1st October for the longest time then all of a sudden it was pushed back, then not again. Not something that could be set in stone, that's for sure. Our grandchild would come when he/she was ready and not before. This didn't help much in our planning for, as everyone knows, those paragons of customer care, let's just call them 'airlines', do not take kindly to last minute booking and changes despite what all those "I traveled the world on $100" smart Alecs say. The later it became, the more painful it was.... for us needless to say. And as I said earlier, we had to make changes seemingly every week all of which increased the pain threshold. Fair to say I am heartily sick of aeroplanes, airports, airlines, mindless bloody stupidity at the airports, endless security lines, aeroplane food (big time), not being able to sleep, immigration procedures that change seemingly change all the time yet when you comment 'this is new', the official gives you a blank stare so you try to remember not to comment on anything but smile in a sort of glassy and fixed way every time someone asks something arcane like 'what brings you to...' -- I mean, I just landed on a plane for goodness sake, what do you think I am here for? To visit.... derr!

Anyway rather than go through a blow by blow for each stage, I'll do it by photos:

1. England

The land of Brexit and Boris Johnson! It seems to have become the only topic of conversation. Will we exit on October 31st in Boris's words 'do or die' or was it he'd rather be 'dead in a ditch'? Doesn't matter, everyone was speaking in ridiculous hyperbole like this all the time. 'End of the world', 'total disaster', 'catastrophic'.... you name it, these are the words of the time. Made me glad that we wouldn't be spending a lot of time here, just a few days with Viv's mum Anna.

Reculver Castle on the Thames Estuary is an old Roman Fort, church, you name it what else. The twin spires seen here are only kept as markers for shipping otherwise they'd be allowed to fall down.

Just had to eat the best fish n' chips in the country! Still great.

That other institution, the Sunday roast. Random country pub and it was fantastic.

Visiting the Royal Naval Dockyard at Chatham. Really interesting yet sad to me for it is now a tourist attraction seeing as there is very little Royal Navy left to service.

The Turner Modern museum in Margate I thought would have paintings of said Turner, a local lad who painted mid 19th century industrial type paintings, particularly steam ships, but it had the annual competition going on with artists like this doing modern stuff. The interpretation I found a little less than helpful.

2. Switzerland

Indy and Cat live in Zurich so it was there that we flew next. We stayed in an AirBNB in the centre of Zurich and found that the public transport was cheap, really efficient and on time. Trams, buses, trains... all really clean and a pleasure to use. We also found it was Oktoberfest time! So we had some fun before the big day arrived.

Quite a raucous affair it was too!

Taking our new grandchild for a walk. Felt like a supermarket trolley but of course just like everything Swiss, it really does work!

3. New York

After only a few days I flew through London again (ugh... horrible airport) to New York for my board meeting. Happily Dee Dee came to join me for a couple of days so we were able to hang out and go crazy. I dragged him all around Greenwich Village into bars and blues clubs.... great time!

Found time for the big steak too!

4. Switzerland (again)

Viv had stayed on in Zurich whilst I traveled alone to the Big Apple and I was looking forward to going back to join her, Indy, Cat and our beautiful grandchild for a few more days.

5. England (again)

One thing we have never managed is the knack of traveling light. I am always totally impressed by people that travel only with a carry on even when they are traveling for weeks or months. I imagine their choice of wardrobe is therefore limited but even with umpteen bags I find myself wearing the same trousers and shirt all the time. However this time we'd smartened up a little and actually managed the side trip to Zurich with just the one big bag... each, and had left the other two big bags in England. Hence England for a couple of days.

We took in a visit to a winery nearby which courtesy of global warming is now a producer of very decent bubbles, Balfour Estate. The tour guide explained that the owner had sort of bought the grape producing fields 'by accident' a few years ago and set to wondering what to do with just another 150 acres of decent arable land. He is very wealthy.

6. Bermuda

Thankfully we flew out through Gatwick, not Heathrow but I do have to comment on car rental firms. First time was Avis, second time Hertz. I go by price not loyalty so the companies change all the time for us. We get to see a variety of operators as a result. For some reason, this week no company had any cars to rent! This is Heathrow, one of the world's busiest airports. I'd booked ages in advance so was OK but people who rolled up on the off chance were totally out of luck. At Hertz, it was a pick a number and wait your turn thing! Unbelievable. 

It wasn't until our last day at Gatwick that we managed a full English breakfast! Very nice.

Great time of year to visit Bermuda by the way. Sunny and warm, yet no humidity. We stayed with Charmaine and David again and it was just lovely to catch up with friends. Dee Dee was working there too so we were able to  hang out with him as well.

Aunty Blanche's 90th birthday party was lovely. She got to sit next to her favourite person, Dee Dee, so was very happy. Very pleased to be there with her. Happy Birthday Aunt Blanche!

It was also lobster season so we just had to...

A week or so before we arrived, this hurricane came to visit. It was a bad one causing plenty of damage. Very unusual for Bermuda. No loss of life thankfully.

7. Toronto

We've a condo in downtown Toronto which is a lovely place to stay, however we have also found that the best long distance routing from Penang is first via Hong Kong and then onto wherever via Cathay Pacific. Direct to London and Zurich going west, and direct to New York and Toronto heading east. All are very long of course but the Toronto routing really works out best for us. Only for a few days this time.

8. Hong Kong/Penang

Transiting through HK still hasn't been impacted by the troubles going on there ... yet. 

The Summer Game

I have been addicted to cricket probably since I was 5 or 6. My mum introduced me to the game by bowling to me in the back garden (my dad was Polish so thought we were all mad). My forward defensive stroke is all down to her. Not a bad one either, even if I have to say so myself.

The thing that really did it for me though was the TV coverage by the BBC. Back then (we are talking 1959-60), this was the era of Peter May, Colin Cowdrey, Ted Dexter, Fred Trueman, Brian Statham and others. Glorious to watch but they did always seem to lose when they played Ashes test matches. Actually, it has pretty much always been a battle against the Aussies in Ashes tests and in my memory with only relatively few high spots; virtually never away from England.

Earliest cricket memories include the batting card on TV. These days all computer driven and presented. Certainly more efficient, faster in production and informative but what a loss! In those days it was hand written by someone who had beautiful copper plate writing. I can't remember who the opposition was but my first first TV memory was Ted Dexter getting out for 180 and the batting card disappeared and then reappeared with the full details.

I started formally playing when I went to Eton House School at the age of 8; no chance of that when I was at the catholic convent Lindisfarne as the school was run by Belgian nuns. I'd had great success playing in our driveway against other boys and girls (yes, even then) but discovered after being no balled for 3 successive deliveries in my first over at Eton House that that was most likely due to the fact that I had been throwing the ball all the time. This meant a total reworking of my action and is most likely a key reason that I never quite made it to play for England at Lords. My pace dropped sharply!

I did make it finally to Eton House 1st XI a few years later. Back row, 2nd from right

Fortunately, and this is where I tip my hat yet again to my mum, my forward defensive stroke proved a formidable barrier and surprised everyone at a time when nobody owned one. The typical 8 year old stroke was a wild swish or a curious type of prod of the type you'd use if you had a hoe in your hand and you'd come across a snake in the grass. Many years later I'd endlessly train/torture both Indy and Dee Dee in the back garden on the use of the forward defensive with tennis ball or cricket ball as they got older. They didn't make as much use of it as I did but when we all played together it was noticeably still there, somewhere.

Our last game all together at Shelly Bay, Bermuda

I mention this as the wonderful cricket season has just about come to an end in England. My county Essex is challenging for the county championship with Somerset but it is a tight thing as the final game is against Somerset so will be a sort of winner take all affair. I shall be on tenterhooks!  However the Ashes test matches against Australia have just finished with an England victory in the 5th test making the series 2-2 with one match drawn, even though sadly the Aussies retained the Ashes as England didn't win the series.

If you are cricket followers you will know that the matches themselves were pretty low standard affairs. Neither set of batsmen could cope with the quality of the bowlers and on balance the Aussie bowlers were the better lot... except for a couple of the guys. One Aussie, one Brit. The Aussie simply ground away for hours on end and scored a gazillion runs in the series evoking memories of Don Bradman, the greatest of them all. His name is Steve Smith and do look for articles about him or rather his performances. Here's one to start with. The Brit is a totally different kettle of fish and is a fine stroke maker but in this series with England only one ball away from collapse on every delivery, he was forced to adjust his style to grind away too. It is strange to watch someone who clearly isn't that good at something but puts so much effort into doing it anyway because that is what the team needs and really has to happen, but that is what watching Ben Stokes bat like that was all about. Where Smith knew what he was doing and could go about things calmly, Stokes had to force it with the result that for much of the time he was stroke less and run less. This whilst all about him collapse and panic reined (this is England's batting) until there came a point that there was only him and the last man and another 73 runs to win. Total mindset change.

Stokes knew he could not rely on the last man, after all he was a bowler not a batter even though he was one of those salt of the earth, get knocked down but get up again, kind of guys. Totally gawky but very, very brave. Where others ducked and bobbed and weaved as the ball whizzed past their heads... and then got out to very poor efforts, the 11th man, Jack Leach, stood tall, swayed in and out, kept his eye on the ball and bat away from it so it could not inadvertently take an edge and be caught. He 100% looked the part and immediately became a legend, rather like Eddie the Eagle in ski-jumping. Not very good but very brave and very determined.

And totally against the odds at the other end Stokes simply did what he does best and smashed the formerly formidable attack to all parts. Sixes and fours everywhere off everyone. Until the score reached single figures left to win when Stokes grew nervous. First he went for a wild thrash and missed it and the ball hit him on the leg right in front of the wicket. The Aussies appealed for LBW (leg before wicket, one of the ways in which a batsman can get out. If the ball hits the leg and would have gone on to hit the wicket, that could be out LBW). Not out said the umpire.... the TV announcers were howling at this point. They knew that was wrong. The ball WAS going to hit the wicket but the Aussies were not able to review this decision as they had already reviewed two others incorrectly in the innings and were consequently all out of challenges. The TV showed the review and it was absolutely out. Stokes would have been out, should have been out and the Aussies should have won the test match but the umpire got it wrong! The crowd were going crazy. Next ball another frenetic thrash and both Stokes and Leach made a total hash of running with Leach running towards the bowler's end where the ball was being returned and he knew he would be yards short... when the bowler blinked and missed the ball and as he fumbled Leach was able to scramble home. Again, Leach should have been run out, England should have lost, and the Aussies should have won the match and the Ashes, but this time it was the bowler who made a hash of the whole thing.

Next ball Stokes thrashed it into the crowd again (in all he hit 8 sixes in this final dramatic run assault/chase) and that was 2 to win. But it was also the end of the over and now Leach had to face all 6 balls of the currently finest fast bowler in test cricket. He casually flicked a single, his only run in the entire process, which brought the teams level and next ball Stokes thrashed the winning boundary and the celebrations began.

I was screaming too at this point. I recorded it and have watched the last amazing hour 3 or 4 times. Every time I still don't believe England did it. They really shouldn't have.

**

I'd thought that the World Cup final some 6 weeks ago now was the most dramatic, exciting, unlikely day of cricket I had ever seen... In that game between England and New Zealand played over 50 overs per side, the Kiwis scored some 245 runs, way below what an acceptable score should be. These days teams knock off 300+ with regularity so all of a sudden England was firm favourite. This changed within 5 overs as the English batters realised to their alarm (and doom) that although the English bowling had been mean, tight and penetrating and did a great job restricting the Kiwis to such a small score, the Kiwi attack was every bit as good and that in fact the pitch was extremely awkward and did not allow for a side to simply smash a decent bowling side all over the place. It took one batsman, again Stokes, to steady the ship after a clatter of wickets and amidst an ongoing debacle at the other end and approach the final over with the not inconsiderable amount of 15 required to win.

The first two balls he did not score. Then the third he hit for 6!! Then on the fourth he wanted to run 2 and hit it to the boundary where he tried to run 2 but it looked very much like he would end up short and be run out .... when the ball thrown in from the boundary hit him as he was running and ran off to the boundary for 4 overthrows, making this shot a .... 6!! Or maybe something else. Did Stokes mean to do this or was it an accident? If accidental, then overthrows. If deliberate, then out. The crowd was going crazy. The umpires hadn't a clue what to signal for that 4 overthrows ball but after deliberations it was obvious that Stokes hadn't a clue what was going on either and that the ball had simply hit him and run away. So after multiple TV replays, they came up with 6 scored and 3 left to win. Two balls to do it. The bowler bowled and I'm afraid like Dirty Harry in the first movie, in all the excitement I kinda forget what exactly happened, but they did run one and the number 10 batsman was run out going for the second. And then on the final ball, the exact same thing happened again. He tried to run 2 but only managed 1 with the new batsman run out well short of making his ground. So a tie!!

Sudden death single over ensued. England to bat first. It would be Stokes of course and another big hitter. 6 balls. Most runs win. Only 2 wickets allowed. First ball Stokes hit the ball into the crowd!!.... which went even more crazy, and for the remaining balls the pair of them managed to amass 14 runs. A decent amount. The Kiwis turn was next and first ball was a .... no run, dot ball!!! The crowd were going wild. I was going wild.... I was watching it on my phone, I think in the car. My friend John was on a bus in France.... and he was screaming! Next ball the batsman hit it miles into the crowd! Aaagh!! 9 left and 4 balls to do it. Runs and balls ensued and left 2 runs needed on the last ball. One to tie, 2 to win. The batsman hit it to the fielder on the boundary who collected it cleanly and threw it in what was probably his greatest ever piece of fielding and the batsman was run out by a whisker. Another tie but England won it.... not because they scored more runs than the Kiwis but because they scored more boundaries in their innings.

Did I say that cricket is full of weird rules?

**

I'm a Test Match guy. I just love the fact it takes 5 days to reach a conclusion which may well be a draw... no result in fact. I know this makes no sense to some people but it is how it is. In the old days, test matches could be played to completion; so-called 'timeless tests'. That's how teams could rack up nearly 1,000 runs in an innings and still get a result... think Ashes test of 1938 at the Oval. In the 1980's it was decided to add a 6th day to one Ashes test match as an experiment. The result was one of the dullest day's play I have ever watched and with one batsman scoring the dullest century of all time (it wasn't, most like. It just felt like it). So even enthusiasts like me have their limits.

The 50-over One Day Internationals (ODI in modern parlance) are also fine. In club cricket this is effectively what everyone in the world only plays. It may not be limited to 50 overs per side but games have to be finished in a single weekend day and the practicality of it all makes it to be around 50 overs per side. Of course in club cricket, a draw is possible whilst in official ODI matches (like the World Cup final for example), there has to be a result. This is a key difference as it makes the end of any match a frenetic thrash for the team batting second whilst in club cricket the game meanders along most pleasantly.

The shorter form matches, called T20 these days... 20 overs per side, are usually played by we humble amateurs as an after work thing. Again practicality kicking in. In June/July in England you can squeeze in 25 overs but by August you are struggling to make 20 overs as the evenings start to close in. By September you are lucky to get 16 overs in. In Bermuda, we always struggled to get 20 overs in with 14 being usual by late August. Again no draw possible in these games which resemble a thrash from start to finish.

My Bermuda evening league team in 1995

15 or so years ago, cricket left terrestrial TV in England (formerly the BBC). Yes, the English Cricket Board sold its soul for money to the subscription TV services. In this year's World Cup final, by special concession, the subscription TV service Sky agreed to let terrestrial TV take the feed so people could watch free. 10 million people watched. For the final day of the most exciting test match for a generation, barely 2 million paying customers watched. Not a coincidence.

In 2020 a new limited over series called the Hundred will take place. Only 100 balls will be bowled per innings making this even faster than the already frenetic T20 competitions. The already crowded cricket schedule is being changed to accommodate this new circus and the 4-day championship and 5-day test matches are being shunted aside willy nilly. Sponsors are flooding in. Mercenary cricketers for every nation are signing up. TV companies and the ECB are rubbing their hands together thinking about all the lovely cash they'll rake in as the shorter forms of the game are highly popular with non-cricket fans .... of course for the good of cricket and not to line their own pockets, solidify their power base or ironically (or maybe not so) in any way improve the quality of test cricket played by the national team.

Sounds like a lot of sports, governments, quangos, corporations.... tail wagging dog.

I hope the 2 million or so that have subscription TV enjoy the circus. I'll stay with the live feed I've found of Essex playing county championship cricket.

Auntie Blanche

We have a long time family friend who is turning 90 in October this year, our ex-next door neighbor universally known as Auntie Blanche. Blanche was one of the first people we met when we moved to Bermuda as she and her husband, Ernest (uncle Moniz to the children), lived next door and as chance would have it, had owned the property that we moved into beforehand but had recently sold it to our then current landlords. So Ernest who was a handyman of the first order knew precisely where everything was and went in our place. This was a great help as my skills do not extend that far into the handyman domain so on occasion it was massively helpful to have a fount of knowledge so close to hand. For advice and as it most often turned out, assistance to the point of my doing pretty much nothing.

Blanche and Ernest also loved our children. Indy was 7 months old when we arrived in Bermuda whilst Dee Dee was born there. They would actively encourage us to go out at weekends so that they could look after the pair of them and put them up overnight. In short they were the Bermuda grandparents that our boys would never have otherwise had.

On the occasion when Viv would go away, Blanche would ask me if I'd like her to do my laundry as I was working and looking after the boys before and after school. I would never say no and over time it became something of a bit of fun, for me at least, when Blanche asked if I wanted starch on my shirt collars. I said yes the first time but in reality had no clue what starch was and if or not it went on shirt collars. I was being polite and trying not to appear too dopey. I don't think I fooled anyone.

Blanche and the boys

When Ernest passed away, Blanche continued to live in their home. By this time we had moved away and left our beloved Anchor Down for it was getting too small as the boys got older but continued to pop around to visit Auntie Blanche who would always bring out tea, most often banana bread or on occasion other treats as she was a terrific cook, particularly baker. It was at Blanche's house that I discovered the delight that is cherry and walnut cake.

I don't know how many times Blanche has told us her recipes for shortcrust pastry, mince tarts, her famous Christmas cake and this wondrous cherry and walnut cake. It has been many. This has meant therefore that whilst Blanche would chide us for not getting it, she would come up with the goodies herself. For many years therefore one of my greatest treats was receiving one or more of Blanche's Christmas cakes and a cherry and walnut cake.

On one occasion, Blanche gave me two such cakes. One to share with the family and one just for me. Blanche understood things very well as there was much competition for the cake, not so much from the boys but from Viv and her mum, Anna, when she visited. I would try to ensure no cakes were around at times like this but clearly forgot this time. It was a time I was really busy at work so I was working very long hours and forgot about the cakes until one day I remembered and thought I'd have a piece with a cup of tea before going to bed. I took the cake out of its foil wrap and to my horror discovered the top, sides, bottom and ends all cut off with just a longish finger of cake from the middle remaining. It was too late that day, but the following day I called Blanche and told her the tragic tale. She didn't believe me. So I took the offending cake over to her house and showed her. Whilst I was distraught, Blanche started to sympathize but in the end started laughing helplessly. I don't think I've actually seen anyone laugh that much. But remaining on point for the moment, from that time on Blanche knew exactly what I had to contend with so made a point of making cakes just for me with another on the side to share.

Time has moved on, and Blanche left her family home to live in a smaller apartment next to her niece but she continues to make the occasional cake and mince tart. It is harder work these days but when we just visited Blanche showed me her latest offering: it was a beautiful cherry and walnut cake... just for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

You cannot know how good this cake is until you try it. So good.

We have had so many wonderful times with Blanche over the years that she has become an icon for the family. For several years, Dee Dee would go over to Auntie Blanche's house on Christmas Day to share her lunch as Blanche liked to eat early (we ate late) and then come back home for our later dinner. Indy still visits when he is in Bermuda as do we. Viv calls Blanche regularly. We'll be back for Blanche's 90th, that's for sure. Wouldn't miss it and who knows, maybe a cherry and walnut cake.....?

Bermuda retrospective

Six weeks or thereabouts in Bermuda has gone like a flash. Well not to start with of course. Things never go that way but by about half way things had picked up to the extent that we added an extra two weeks onto our expected stay. Happily it was to see our children who on their own without prompting by us visited Bermuda.

Highlights of course were being with the children but in addition it was all about reminiscing. Would things be like they used? Would there be changes that exponentially change the place? Have things actually moved on, ahead or simply further along? What change to the political environment which when we first left on our travels had just seen an election with a change in government?

So in no particular order, this is what struck me.

1. Bermudaful but...

Well this one is easy. We all knew this but it still gets me that the place is so stunningly beautiful it couldn't really have been manufactured. It has happened thankfully in the typical laid back, somewhat shambolic manner in which Bermuda typically operates. Sounds pretty bad when written like that but for as long as I remember (and that is quite a long way back), there really hasn't been a plan in Bermuda. From an economist's point of view, this isn't ideal but for people living there really it has been a dream. Things meander along for the most part peacefully. People get along more or less and the environment is staggeringly beautiful.

Flatts Inlet

However behind the scenes, maybe under the surface even though it isn't really. Pretty much everything is known within seconds of it happening... often before. In a small place, this is pretty typical as everyone knows everyone else. Viv tells the story of how she was walking along Queen Street in Hamilton when she ran into a couple of old ladies struggling to open a door to a building. She proffered help and was met with "do I know you?" Viv didn't but sort of recognized a family resemblance to a friend so mentioned this and of course it turned out that these two ladies were her aunties and as Viv looks rather like her friend, so the ladies did a momentary double take too. These ladies as it turned out wanted to visit a betting shop but finding it closed decided on a Plan B that included KFC just down the street. Viv said it took an hour to walk the less than 200 yards down the road as these ladies stopped to chat to every other person that happened to walk by. When you are Bermudian and reach a certain age, you know every other person as either a relation, friend or child of a friend. I imagine this is typical in other places with a 60,000 population like Bermuda, but it is also something that makes the island what it is.

A couple of years ago, one of the three Bermuda banks did an IPO (one being sold to HSBC many years earlier and the other involved in transfer of ownership to a private equity firm) meaning that no longer would any Bermuda bank be Bermuda owned. This is important for as a previous CEO of the Bank of Bermuda (sold to HSBC) once famously said to a management meeting "the decisions we take here may not always be in the best interests of the bank... but they will be in the best interests of Bermuda". This has changed with profit motive taking over. Disturbing, for the banks were typically very large employers of Bermudians and just before we arrived in mid-May, this bank laid off 40 staff in one swathe. Most being long time employees. Couched as being an exercise in encouraging early retirement, the reality is simple cost cutting. Something US listed companies do all the time courtesy of their need to report ever improving quarterly financial results. The simplest thing of all to do is lay off staff. I fear that this is not an isolated event but do hope otherwise.

2. Sports

It is that time of the year when the northern hemisphere moves into summer and with that outdoor summer sports. And my goodness there are plenty of them.  Overseas were the US Open (golf), French Open (tennis), World Cup (cricket) and others. I have been riveted to these although I prefer to play rather than watch. Most of all it was tennis at Pomander Gate but increasingly it has become pickle ball too.

Southampton Princess golf course

Tennis at Pomander Gate

So what is pickle ball? It is a construct that appears to me to simply enable older ex-tennis players to play a similar kind of racquet and ball game. The court has the dimensions of a badminton court (without the tramlines) and the net is much lower than on a tennis court. You play with what sounds like a wooden paddle and a large, yellow plastic ball with holes in it. Simple rules that you can grasp on the first try. Simple to learn too as the mechanics of everything are something like table tennis but on a larger scale. Both racquet and ball are light so available for all ages.

Pickle ball at Pomander Gate

The growth has been startling to me. This time last year, the club had two nets that it simply lifted onto a tennis court. One on either side of the net. It was a busy day when 6 people turned up to play and those that were were usually organized by the same two people who had first come across it in Florida where it is very popular. This year, the club has taken over the centre court and whilst leaving the net in place has repainted the remainder of the court so as to create 4 permanent courts, 2 on either side of the net. These days it is typical to have 16+ people come to play... and they play Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings. Tuesday, Thursday and Friday evenings. And Sunday mornings too. It has attracted so many people from outside the club that it created a new pickle ball membership which has proved to be very popular. Far less so with the tennis players who sadly for the club actually don't play that much. Certainly when pickle ball is taking place, it is rare that the tennis courts are in use.

Most interesting to me is the dynamic. This time last year, comparatively speaking nobody played the game. Today there are 40 people that regularly play with more turning up to try it all the time. Quite a few have given up on tennis to concentrate on pickle ball and have become very good players. So much so that there is already the growing question of people not wanting to play with others that aren't up to their standard. Last year, it was great just to play. Now things have moved on very quickly as people's competitive natures kick in.  The first tournament was last week. I took part, lost more than I won but along the way hammered the winner and lost quite comfortably to one of the perceived weaker players. Personally I am just happy to play. I am looking forward to seeing how it pans out.

3. F&B

Being visitors, we spent a lot of time eating, drinking and being entertained. Both in people's homes and out and whilst my waistline expanded at a greater rate than my steely will evaporated, boy are things expensive. Noticeably so since last year.  For sure, we spend a lot of time during the course of the year in Penang, which is a lower cost environment, but really. On our first visit to a supermarket, we saw a cauliflower priced at $11.99. It has always been the way that local produce was expensive, but it didn't feel like this. On the other hand booze and beef in supermarkets aren't that expensive but put them into a restaurant and vroom! Apparently restaurants mark up wine a minimum 4 times these days so good luck with finding a $50 bottle of wine at a restaurant.

This said I did go through my list of favorite things to eat in Bermuda. Pretty much.

 i) Multi-grain roll with tuna fish and chopped egg, lettuce and tomato, butter on the bread and those cute little yellow peppers that go pop in the mouth. 

Only from my friend Paul at Hickory Stick on Bermudiana Road in Clarendon House. I used to eat this sandwich probably three times a week when I was working just down the road. On the other days it would be Paul's fish cakes on Tuesdays and on the other day I'd go somewhere else. I know... traitor. Creature of habit...me? No way.

 ii) Beef patty

Quite a few places do patties but I found one of the nicest to be from Supermart on Front Street. Find them in the hot shelf near the whole chickens. One is not enough, two is too many. These are great hand held foods for maybe a morning after. On such days, an apple doesn't quite cut it.

 iii) Club sandwich with coleslaw

OK, with French fries!

Loads of places, some up market, do perfectly adequate club sandwiches but my favorite is at The Spot on Burnaby Hill. It may not be the best but I like it. You eat at the counter and get to drink their famous coffee which they generously refill whenever you want.

 iv) Bermuda fish sandwich. Layered pieces of fish, lettuce and tomato, butter on the white toasted bread, ketchup, tartar sauce and lots of hot sauce on top.

Mahi Mahi 

Many places do fish sandwiches, most aren't that good. The best tend to be in the least attractive looking places. Viv went to Woody's in Somerset and raved about it. I went on a search for a fish sandwich on a public holiday and found none of the best places open so had to settle for a very poor second best. However I was recommended to the Seaside Grill on North Shore next to the Clay House as the fish was purported to be really fresh. We went twice, the first being mahi mahi, the second and best time being when I had red hind. Boy, was that good.

 v) Liver and onions, maybe with bacon but always lots of gravy

I really like liver from several places but finally settled on the Red Carpet on Reid Street which serves it with mashed potatoes, veggies and lashings of gravy. The maitre d' Chris asked me how I'd like it done... cooked of course. You don't have liver medium rare. It is the gravy that makes it for me and this was pretty terrific.

 vi) Auntie Blanche's cherry and walnut cake

This is almost undescribable as it is so sublime. Traditional Bermuda cakes are rum cakes, Christmas cakes laced with rum, mince pies and somewhere along the line fruit cakes the king of which is the cherry and walnut cake. Our old neighbors Blanche and Brenda were great bakers and fine exponents. Blanche in particular did wonderful cherry and walnut cake. She once told me that her secret was the gin she soaked the fruit in. Others are much dryer but Blanche's are moist and simply lovely. She only made these cakes at Christmas time as she would soak fruit in their respective booze for a month or two before and make them a couple of weeks or so before the big day. More latterly she would make cakes ostensibly for me as I am a fanatic about them. As she has become older, these occasions have grown fewer but a week or so ago, she made me a beautiful cake. Simply lovely. Thanks Auntie Blanche!

4. Transport

For such a small island, getting around Bermuda is really key to enjoying it properly and fortunately we had a car at our disposal for much of the time we were there. Thanks Dave and Jeremy! However I had a fantastic time on the local public transport as with the passage of time, I turned 65 and on renewing my driving license, the fine people at TCD also awarded me a Bermuda Senior's ID card. Nice photo too! Amongst other wonderful things, this little card enables me to enjoy free travel on buses and ferries!!! Beat that! So I did at every opportunity and found the number 1 and 3 buses are pretty darned good.

We went for quite a few walks on the Railway Trail which I really do enjoy. I am impatient by nature and do wish they'd rebuild the trail more fully than it was before/is right now. Progress is great but to me painfully slow. Looks like volunteers only at the moment. I wish it were a higher priority.

5. Beaches...

I was really trying not to do beaches again this year but really couldn't avoid it. Truly they are lovely. This year however there were a number of storms out to sea and these storms brought in mounds of brown sargassum weed which is piled high on most beachfronts from Horseshoe Bay to Coopers Island. Still the best I've ever seen.

***

Looking forward to returning again soon.

Bermuda gem

Bermuda does a lot of things well (think pink beaches, sunshine, golf courses, coral reefs, etc) and a lot of things badly which I suppose is common to most places. In Ipoh in Malaysia for example I was disappointed by what appears to be a throwaway attitude to the colonial past even though it is one of the few advertised things attracting you to visit the town. 12 time zones away, Bermuda does just as poorly with the Railway Trail.

Luckily some people do recognize how terrific this little gem is... here is the Smithsonian's take although don't necessarily believe it can or even should be done by bike as shown. Locally, an organization called the Friends of the Railway Trail are trying to put the dots back together again and reconnect the trail end to end. Check here for information. Thankfully back in 1984, the Bermuda government also stepped in to help although their help was restricted to the legal framework of allowing people to simply access the trail again which in intervening years had simply been absorbed into people's back gardens, driveways, etc.  Here is the official story. So plenty of information then but rather than just read about it, far better to put on some walking shoes and enjoy it.

Almost nowhere on the trail is there a bad photo opportunity

Viv and I have been doing that and it is amazing just how much things change. It has been a year since we last visited and in that time several bridges have been strategically placed to reconnect parts of the trail that were inaccessible before. These are in the main between Bailey's Bay down to Crawl. What has happened is stunning and shows what can be achieved by some simple will and desire to show off something that is really special.

Much of it is privately funded with construction crews often volunteers taking their own time to do something that is important to them.

I am perplexed as to why something that is relatively simple and cheap to do is not funded by government. The Railway Trail is a short railway line with a few bridges that need replacing with footpaths that have been put in place elsewhere along the trail already... technology has moved on so this is a relatively simple task. It may cost several million dollars to finance but when compared against the spending that takes place on other things with questionable benefit or which is wasted, this is a simple fix and an easy win. So why not do it?

Flatts Inlet site of new bridge under construction

In the meantime I am just going to enjoy walking the trail and take my hat off to the Friends of the Railway Trail and wish them well in their endeavors. I cannot wait to see the bridge over Flatts Inlet which is under construction right now. It should be spectacular. Next year... then the bridge over Ferry Reach and a boardwalk extending the Crawl section down to Shelly Bay, then...