It's not about the monster

There can't be many people who could be towed along the surface of Loch Ness in a giant inflatable bubble and call it 'work'. Steve Feltham can.

I first 'met' Steve 18 years ago. Well I didn't actually meet him, but I felt I did. In August 1992 I watched Steve's video diary that was broadcast on BBC 2. The diary, called Desperately Seeking Nessie, followed Steve's first year as he set out to be a full-time Loch Ness Monster hunter. Yes, you read that correctly, a full-time Loch Ness Monster hunter. For many, the idea of even being a part-time monster hunter may seem a little surreal, but Steve wanted to do it full-time. At the age of 28 he decided to pack in his job, sell his house in Dorset, and end a seven year relationship with his then girlfriend in order to move up to the banks of Loch Ness to search for the Loch's legendary monster. Steve had been fascinated with Loch Ness and the monster that may or may not live in its murky depths ever since he was taken there on holiday as a kid. Since then he had been back several times and had even spent a 3-week holiday at the Loch on the look out for Nessie, weighing up the idea of giving up his job to do it full time.


At the time I first saw Steve's video diary, I was 22 years old and I'd just completed my degree at Liverpool Polytechnic. After 3 years' of student-dom, I was now living back at my parents' house in sunny Macclesfield. And, to be perfectly honest, I was pretty depressed. Not that there was anything wrong with my parents' house. Or even Macclesfield. It's just that I hadn't really expected to move back there after my student years, you know? So Steve's video-diary of how he took control of his life and followed his dream of becoming a Loch Ness Monster hunter came at an important time in my life when I was wondering what I might do next. It was an inspiring tale of realising that it is up to each of us to decide what we want to do with our lives and then having the courage to set about doing it, no matter how crazy it might seem to some people. (And let's face it, monster hunter has to be right up there towards the top end of the crazy scale!) In fact, one of the scenes from the video diary that stuck with me for many years was the shot of Steve driving off in his van (actually an old mobile library) in the direction of Scotland with the song Life's What You Make It by Talk Talk playing.

Over the years I had occasionally wondered if Steve had stuck it out. Was he still spending his days staring out over the waters of Loch Ness hoping to see something that would prove that he wasn't wasting his time? Indeed he was. His website, www.haveyouseenityet.com and a couple of clips on YouTube confirmed that he was still there and still making and selling little clay models of Nessie to help fund his research.

And so, during the 'summer' a couple of years ago (I use the word loosely here, as I think the summer lasted for little more than an afternoon) I decided to go and visit Steve. If nothing else, I wanted to be able to tell him how I had found his video diary inspiring and something I still remembered to this day. I dragged Rachel and Freya with me (not literally, Rachel shared the driving, Freya didn't have much choice) and we made a holiday out of it.

When we arrived at the Dores Inn car park, it was busier than I'd expected. The car park beside the pub on the banks of the Loch is where Steve has resided for the last 12 years or so, ever since the converted mobile library that is his home became, well, not so mobile. From this vantage point, Steve has an unparalleled view down the length of Loch Ness.

"It never ceases to amaze me, the wonderful and bizarre things I get involved in doing which I never would have done otherwise," Steve tells me when I ask him about his life since he'd decided to become a full-time monster hunter, "just the other day this gang turned up and covered this whole beach with a huge great polythene bubble, which they pumped up to become this 35-foot high plastic clear pyramid!". It turned out to be for a stunt to advertise Scottish Blend pyramid tea-bags, but at the last minute they decided to involve Steve, "they said, right, we're getting the Inverness paparazzi out tomorrow to do a photo-shoot with this giant tea-bag, but what would actually be better is if we could put a monster hunter inside it and tow him around the bay! So the next day, I'm getting towed around, and it was great because you're stood on this plastic skin and suddenly it becomes like a glass-bottomed boat so you can see all sorts of debris that's lying just out here. So I could tick that off as work!". I wasn't sure what surprised me more. The fact that Steve could call this work, or that there was an Inverness paparazzi.

Steve also told me about his friend who has built floats on to the base of his microlight aircraft so that they can go flying up and down the loch, "...which again in a way is monster hunting because you can look down into the water. And it's bloody great fun whilst you're doing it!"

But as we continued to talk about Steve's decision to become a monster hunter all those years ago, I noticed that we talked less and less about the monster, and more and more about what it means to follow a dream. In fact, that was the reason I had wanted to meet Steve. Personally, I wasn't that bothered whether or not there is a monster in Loch Ness, but Steve was. In fact, it was his passion. It was his dream to spend his life as a monster hunter and be the one to get conclusive evidence that Nessie was for real. But he was equally passionate about getting across the idea that, no matter what your dream is, you should do whatever you can to follow that dream. Even if it is as bizarre as looking for the Loch Ness Monster.

At the end of Steve's video diary he concludes, "This isn't just about hunting for a monster, but about having a dream and following it. It doesn't matter if people say you're mad, if you don't go for it one day you may say, 'well, I wish I'd done that when I'd had the chance'. If you don't follow your dreams, the only person who loses is you."

_____

Steve's video-diary, Desperately Seeking Nessie, can be viewed online here. 

The title of this post alludes to the title of cyclist Lance Armstrong's autobiography It's Not About The Bike. I was lent this by a friend at work about three years ago, and I still haven't read it. I think it's because I have a sneaky suspicion that a big part of it is going to be about the bike.

Flowing home

As we leave the hotel to head home after a fantastic holiday, Mesuda, the hotel's owner tells us not to worry that they are throwing water alongside the taxi-cab. "This is a Turkish custom", she explains, "which means 'may your journey be as smooth as water flows'". I liked that.

Too good to be true

Yes, there are places in the world where even Bradford is considered exotic...

Ten years younger

They also say that when in Turkey you should have a Turkish Shave. At least if you are a man. As it turns out I am a man, and I am in Turkey. So a few days ago I had a Turkish Shave.

I chose the friendliest-looking barber shop, which we had walked past several times on our way to and from the town. He enthusiastically waves us in, and offers us tea. I had read in the guide book at the hotel that the Turkish are especially proud of their hospitality and that it is considered rude not to accept tea when offered. So we accept. We drink tea as we watch the World Cup on the television. Portugal are beating North Korea 4 goals to nil. As we sip our tea, Portugal score a fifth.

Eventually, the barber gestures for me to lay my head back and the shave begins. He applies a smooth coating of shaving cream to my face, taking care to ensure that there are no gaps. Then the razor appears. Now, my concern with the cut-throat razor is, and always has been, the name. Cut-throat razor. I would have thought the last thing you want to be reminded of about a razor is what it is capable of doing when it is in the wrong hands! Fortunately, this particular razor is in the right hands as he deftly scrapes away the three or four days' worth of stubble that I had been growing in preparation for today's event. My face now feels as smooth as the rest of my body had felt after the hammam the day before. Anywhere else, and you might think that was the shave over with. But not in Turkey. Noticing that Rachel was looking a little warm while sipping her tea he picks up some lemon spritzer spray and sprays her face to cool her down, before doing the same to me. Next, large cotton-bud type things are dipped in lighter fuel and set alight. These implements are used to singe away any unwanted (and, no doubt, unsightly) ear-hairs. I didn't realise I had any, but I definitely feel them singe as they are gotten rid of.

At this point, by way of advice, my barber gestures to the cafe next door to his shop. "Omar's...", he says, "dirty. Don't go there." We hadn't planned to, but I had wondered why there had been a large picture of Omar Sharif in prominent place at the front of the cafe. I assumed it might have been because Mr Sharif himself had once eaten there. I doubted this now, especially if he'd been to this barber first. As I turn to look in the direction of the cafe, I notice the man turning the kebabs on the grill. He bears a striking resemblance to Omar Sharif. "Is that...", I begin to ask myself, but I stop myself. Of course it isn't. As we ponder over the dirtiness of the neighbouring cafe, and as I silently ponder the fate of Omar Sharif, North Korea concede a sixth goal.

As I turn back to look into the mirror ahead of me, I am taken aback by the sudden appearance of the tips a sharp pair of scissors at the end of my nose. He is now removing unwanted (and, no doubt, unsightly) nose-hairs. "Massage?" he asks. Before I can respond he is massaging my shoulders and arms. At one point, he even gets out a large electric massager to run across my back. The offer is extended to Rachel, who gratefully accepts her part in the proceedings. Meanwhile, Omar next door continues to turn kebabs in his decidedly empty cafe, and Portugal put a seventh goal past the Koreans.

"You look ten years younger!" the barber assures me, as we prepare to leave. I smile and ask him how old he thinks I look. "Ooh, 35?" he ventures. I give him a thumbs up, as though to indicate I am happy with that assessment. Not surprisingly, he takes my gesture to mean he has guessed correctly. "Yes, same age as me! 35!". I am surprised. I would have said he was nearer 45.

As we walk away, making sure not to make eye contact with the man in the neighbouring cafe, I feel thoroughly refreshed. And I feel confident in the knowledge that no unwanted (and, no doubt, unsightly) ear or nose-hairs are causing any offence. It then dawns on me. If he thought I looked 35 after my shave, and the shave made me look ten years younger, then he actually thought I was probably around 45.

Oh well, same age as him, I suppose. Same age as him.

Another bath like no other

I have never seen a bathroom with such a spectacular view. And probably never will again either. 'Tis quite amazing.

This picture is taken from the vantage point of the toilet. A 'poo with a view' if you will.

A bath like no other

They say that one thing you must try if you visit Turkey is a hammam. You and I might know it better as a Turkish Bath. Now it just so happens that the hotel in which we are staying has a hammam. And it just so happens that guests at this hotel are granted a complimentary hammam during their stay here. And it just so happens that we are guests at the hotel. And it just so happens that when we asked at reception about booking an appointment for our complimentary hammam, we were able to have one today. What I'm saying is, I had a Turkish Bath today.

I had no idea what to expect. Remember I had no idea I was going to be in Turkey today until just a couple of days ago, so no chance to read any of the guide books. I was entering un-chartered waters. Fortunately, I wasn't entering alone. Rachel was also hammam-ing, as were another couple.

All guests to the hammam have to wear comedy shoes. You slip these on like sandals but the wooden bases mean that no normal person could walk in them and look normal. The only way of propelling yourself forward is to shuffle. Or at least that was the case for me. Rachel, being a woman, after years of experience of propelling herself forward in a wide range of footwear seemed to be able to walk like a normal person. I looked across at the other couple who were also making their way into the hammam, and noticed they too were managing to walk like normal people. It was only me that was shuffling like a loon.

We propelled ourselves forward (I shuffled, Rachel and the others walked) into the hammam itself, a large marble-walled room in the bowels of the hotel. The first 15-20 minutes of a hammam, so I gather, is to sit and sweat and allow the pores to open. As we sat and sweated and allowed the pores to open, my mind began to wander. Was there anything I knew about Turkey? Anything from popular culture that might give me a hint as to what to expect from my hammam experience?

Then I remembered. Yes, there was a film I'd seen. A film that had something to do with Turkey. Midnight something. Midnight... Express. Midnight Express! Yes, that was it. I vaguely remember it as one of the first films I'd seen on video. Yes, in Midnight Express, doesn't the lead character go to a Turkish Bath...? Oh... no, it's not a Turkish Bath, is it? It's a Turkish Prison. And Turkish Baths and Turkish Prisons are not the same. At least I hope not.

The masseur makes his appearance. A stocky little man with a crew cut with a large tea-towel wrapped around his waist (it's actually called a pestamal). He gestures to the four of us as though to ask "who's first?". A few nods of heads seem to indicate that I am to go first. So I stand up and shuffle forward. He gestures for me to lie down on the large marble plinth in the centre of the room (the Gobek Tasi or Naval Stone). I ditch the sandals and oblige by lying face down on the plinth. I try not to think of the film Midnight Express. His job, I now realise, is to exfoliate. By exfoliate, I mean his job is to rub down my skin with a mitt that is made from the same stuff as a pan scourer. It was taking off the dead skin. There goes my first day's tan, I thought!

A tap on my back told me it was time to turn over on to my back. As I did so, Mr Masseur continued to scrape his brillo pad across my skin. As he moved from my legs to my upper torso, his face was a few inches from mine. Of course, being British, etiquette was uppermost in my mind. What is the proper etiquette in this situation, I asked myself? Do I make eye-contact or opt for a middle distance gaze? As I say, I'm British, so the middle distance gaze wins out and I choose a tile on the ceiling to focus upon.

Another tap, and I'm to sit up. As I do this a second masseur enters the hammam who, I presume, will begin to undertake the same torture I have just been through with the other guests. But no, I am being gestured to make my way over to the othe side of the Gobek Tasi and again lie face down. I do as I'm told. Immediately I prefer Mr Masseur no. 2, for he is the bringer of bubbles. Light, soft bubbles that somehow emerge from a pillow case. And lots of them. He proceeds to wash and massage me from head to toe. It is very, very relaxing.

A tap on my back and I know to turn over. Another interesting-looking ceiling tile catches my attention, saving us both (i.e., me) from any awkwardness. Another tap and I sit up to receive a neck massage that releases a knot or two that I didn't realise were there.

A final gesture brings me to my feet. My new friend rinses away the bubbles with cool water from a metal bowl that he pours over my head and shoulders. He then starts to make a quiet chanting noise that signals a change from cool water to ice cold water! Just as I was starting to like him, as well! It's cold but very refreshing.

By now, Mr. Masseur no. 1 was doling out his torture to Rachel. Although she seemed to be enjoying it. Just wait until you get to Mr. Masseur no. 2 with is pillow case of magical bubbles!

As we shuffle back to reception, I realise I am cleanest I have ever been. Ever.

Turkish delight

The wonders of technology. Blogging from my phone in the airport lounge at Heathrow! I'm amazed what is possible these days... But then again, to paraphrase Douglas Adams I still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea.

Rachel surprised me again. She had booked us a week's holiday to Turkey! And we leave in an hour. I am being very, very spoiled.

Never let the odds keep you from doing what you know in your heart you were meant to do!

H. Jackson Brown Jnr.

40 years young

Today I am 40. I remember when my dad turned 40. Forty is my dad's age, not mine!

I've been preparing myself for a while: when I was 38 and people asked me my age I would reply by saying I'd be 40 next year. Was I wishing my life away, or was I simply accepting that middle-age was soon to be upon me?

Now that I am 40, I am inclined to agree with Arthur Schopenhauer (don't I always?) who observed that, "the first forty years of life give us the text: the next thirty supply the commentary." I just hope it's not provided by John Motson.

[Thanks to Byron for the pic.]

Chomsky with dick jokes

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'm a big, big fan of Bill Hicks. In my humble opinion, he is possibly the best stand-up comedian to have graced the planet. But as many of his fans will testify, he was so much more than just a stand-up. His routines cut through all the crap that is thrown at us day after day, and his comedy revealed the lunacy that passes for politics these days.

I say 'these days' even though he died 16 years ago. He was just 32 years old. The irony was that his routines from the early 1990s that dealt with US foreign policy, George Bush, and Iraq were just as relevant 10 years after his death. I consider myself extremely fortunate to have seen Bill when he performed live at the Neptune Theatre in Liverpool back in 1992 when I was a student. I had seen him on TV quite a few times before then and kind of expected to recognise most of his material. About 80% of the show was new material, much of it seemingly improvised or highly topical (it was the week after the Los Angeles Riots).

I am therefore, soooo looking forward to seeing American: The Bill Hicks Story tonight. There are many clips from Bill's shows available on YouTube. This one perhaps best sums up his philosophy:



The title of this post? It's how Bill referred to himself.

Tweet surrender

I've succumbed to twitter. If you are a fellow tweeter or twitterer, or whatever we're called, feel free to follow me to find out what nuggets of wisdom I'm likely to chuck out from time to time. In fact, please follow me, as without followers it's all rather pointless...

Do unto others

It's so easy to forget.
What you give is what you get.

Ratt, 1985.

Bedtime reading

My bedtime reading of late has been a book called Waking from Sleep (oh the irony).

All in the Mind

Three trailers for the same film, Inception, due to be released in the UK on July 16. The film looks amazing, but just goes to show how a little variation in editing can produce quite different trailers. For me, it's this one that is the most compelling:



This slightly shorter one doesn't sell it enough:



And this one, almost twice as long, perhaps gives away too much:



Still want to go and see it though!

Real reason

There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other's cooking & say it was good.

The Story People.

Surprise!

You got me good and proper! Those furtive text messages, the turning of the laptop screen away from my eyes and the obsession with the weather. All is now clear. In some ways I feel a bit stupid to have not sussed, but in fact I am pleased to have got the full benefit of the surprise. It's the aspect of a surprise party that makes it, well, a surprise party!

Those of you who have been paying close attention over the last few years of this blog will know that I turn 40 this year. As will those of you who actually know me. My birthday is actually later this month, so I was not expecting to arrive back at the house (after a very enjoyable afternoon shooting clay-pigeons for the first time) to find a whole load of cars parked outside!

"What are all these cars doing here?" I asked Dave who was in the car with me. "I dunno..." Dave said back, unconvincingly, "Perhaps the neighbours have got friends round..." he suggested. A good attempt, Dave, but it doesn't explain why I recognised Rachel's parents' cars and my mum and dad's car! There was nobody around, so Dave led the way round to the garden at the back, and...

Surprise! A garden full of folks! Family and friends raising a glass to... well, to me! It appears that my better (oh, so better) half, Rachel, had spent the last couple of months planning a surprise party for my 40th! It was the start of the best party ever... live music, Chinese lanterns, a wonderful cake (that's me in the picture at my computer, complete with Rubik's Cube!), and a magician. Yes, a magician! In fact, the whole night was quite magical.

Thank you to everyone who came, and to everyone who clearly helped Rachel with the organising and the secret-keeping (shame on you). And thank you for cards and presents. I've not opened any as yet... will save for my actual birthday later this month. A few more days of my 30's left, which I shall hang on to as long as I can!

But thank you most of all to Rachel. So much thought and effort paid off. Thank you baby... I love you very much x

Get psyched!

Ever wondered what makes people tick? In which case you might want to sign up for a home learning course in psychology. But with so many to choose from, how do you decide which one to go for? It’s a good question. Luckily the answer is here.

If you follow this link you can discover other home learning courses offered by NCC Home Learning.

Are we human?

I love this song. Trouble is, I think the more I play it the more I think Rachel is beginning to dislike it.

Flashed Away

Oh, and if you were unhappy about the way Lost ended, you would have also been a little frustrated with the finale of Flashforward (nice little reviews here and here).

No answers there at all, apart from pretty much everyone experiencing their flashforward just as they had seen it (kind of). Apart from those that didn't. It ended with another blackout and of course another flashforward, setting it all up for a second series. The bummer is there won't be a second series as ABC cancelled the show. Ho hum.

Derren 'n' Lou

Derren's final encounter as part of Derren Brown Investigates took him to the US to spend a few days with Lou Gentile, a ghost hunter and demonologist. We were treated to a few ghost photographs which, for Lou, provided strong proof of life after death but, for Derren, provided strong proof that we are very adept at seeing meaningful patterns in 'noise'. Especially when we're highly motivated to look for them.

Much of Lou's 'data' were in the form of Electronic Voice Phenomena, or EVP. As part of an investigation of a haunted house, Lou would ask questions out loud to the spirits thought to be haunting the place, leaving a gap for the spirit(s) to respond. A digital voice recorder placed on a table recorded the questions along with any answers. Typically, no response would be heard back at the time, but when the recording was played back sounds could be heard in the gaps between Lou's questions. Many people, such as Lou, believe that these sounds are the faint voices of spirits trying to communicate from the other side. The difficulty is that these sounds, much like the ghost photos, usually require a fair bit of interpretation to hear what is supposedly being said. What Lou hears as a message from the dead, you or I (or indeed Derren) might hear as unintelligible crackle.

If these noises aren't voices from beyond then what might they be? A useful contribution to the programme was made by a forensic audio analyst who pointed out that the noises are likely to be an artifact of how these digital voice recorders work, particularly those that are voice-activated. As is often the case with claims of apparently paranormal phenomena, a more likely explanation tends to be quite mundane but is often overlooked by people wishing to believe that something supernatural is happening.

A rather poignant end to the programme was the news that Lou had died a few months after the filming. I wonder if he's been in touch yet?

The Ghost Hunter

The final part of the Derren Brown Investigates trilogy is on tonight (Channel 4, 10pm). This time the focus is on a ghosthunter called Lou Gentile. My guess is that on this occasion our man will indeed be convinced that something paranormal is going on. Not.

There doesn't seem to be a trailer as such available for tonight's show, but there is some 'exclusive footage' from the show on our old friend YouTube:



It's a toss up between whether we watch DBI or the final episode of Flashforward, which is on Five at the same time. Luckily I imagine both will be available to watch on the web (or on Channel 4+1 for DBI) so we won't miss out either way!

Lost but not forgotten

So this week saw the end of Lost, one of the most ambitious and complex drama series ever. It spanned six seasons over six years and kept fans glued to the screen right up the final moments.

Many a fan will have quickly turned to the internet to help them make sense of what they had just watched, as well as help them to interpret and re-interpret everything they had seen from Season One onwards! There aren't many TV shows that integrate such diverse topics as destiny, time-travel, faith, philosophy, love, and what happens after we die into a compelling drama.

But, of course, many questions were left unanswered, such as: So what exactly was the island? Why could it move in space and time? What was the smoke monster? Who was Jacob's "mother"? Why did the island need protecting? Etc., etc. If you're a fan of the show you'll know what I'm talking about, if you're not (and shame on you) you won't have a clue or, indeed, give a toss.

The web is abound with discussions and speculation over what it was all about, including its very own Lostpedia. As I browse through a few reviews of the finale and the discussions that follow, it is interesting to notice that those people who seem to be least satisfied with how it ended are those who don't seem to 'get it'. Those that have a better handle on what was going on seem quite happy with how it was brought to a close, despite the many unanswered questions.

It seems there is likely to be a final 'epilogue' to be included in the DVD boxed set that focuses on what happens to Hurley and Ben after they take over as the new protectors of the island. But other than that, that's your lot.

The Future is Google

Or rather the future of TV is Google TV:



Speaking of Google, if you happened to try Googling something today or yesterday you would have discovered that it is the 30th anniversary of Pac-Man, and a click on the Google logo would have got you a free game!

A very funny man

I have mentioned in passing before that I have long been a fan of Bill Hicks. He died back in 1994 but he continues to be as popular now as when he was alive. Indeed, last week saw the release of a new biopic about him, called American: The Bill Hicks Story. It includes stories from those who knew him, interspersed with archive footage of his performances. Looks good.

Sure you can watch the clips of Bill on YouTube but going to see this movie at the cinema is going to be the closest you're ever likely to get to seeing the guy live on stage. And then some.

Derren 'n' Vyacheslav

It turns out it was Men with X-Ray Eyes (as opposed to the singular Man). Although it didn't appear as though anyone had X-Ray eyes. The focus of last night's Derren Brown Investigates was the Bronnikov Method, pioneered by a chap called Vyacheslav Bronnikov.

Among the claims made by Bronnikov is that his 'method' can help people see through blindfolds and can even help blind people to see (including those who don't have eyes!). And level 1 of the course costs only 700 Euros. All very intriguing, and all very dodgy-sounding.

The confrontation between Derren 'n' Vyacheslav ended with our man requesting that Mr Bronnikov tell him what was inside a sealed box, something that should be straightforward for a man with X-Ray eyes. Bronnikov declined. Which left us wondering what was inside the box!

My guess is that it was a small yellow plastic duck... on a chain.

The Man With X-Ray Eyes

The second of three documentaries in the Derren Brown Investigates series is broadcast tonight on Channel 4 at 10pm. I wonder if the man in the title will be watching...?

A very significant buttock

We all use psychological 'short cuts' from time to time in order to make sense of the world around us. These short cuts can affect the way we behave and interact with other people. For example, we often rely on stereotypes to to make judgements about other people. These are usually simplistic over-generalisations about members of certain groups.

You might think that suppressing our stereotypes might prevent them from influencing our behaviour. Not so. In a study by psychologists back in the 1990s, participants were shown a picture of a ‘skinhead’ and were asked to spend five minutes writing about a typical day in this man’s life. Participants were randomly assigned to one of two conditions. In the first condition (the control condition) they were simply allowed to write their account with no further instruction. However, in the second, experimental, condition participants were instructed to try to not allow any stereotypical preconceptions they might have to influence their account. That is, they were asked to suppress any stereotypical thoughts.

Not surprisingly, the accounts of the man’s day produced by the control group tended to be more ‘stereotypical’ in content than the accounts produced by the participants who had been asked to suppress their stereotypes. But this wasn’t what the researchers were really interested in…

After the participants had completed their task they were taken into another room to meet the man in the photograph. When they got there, the man had apparently nipped out to go to the toilet, and had left his denim jacket and bag on the end chair of a row of eight chairs. So, the experimenter asked the participant to sit and wait in one of the remaining chairs. The researchers were interested in which chair each participant chose to sit in. And guess what, they found a difference between the two conditions. The people who had been instructed to suppress any stereotypical thoughts tended, on average, to sit almost one chair further away from the man’s chair at the end of the row than did the people who had not been asked to suppress such thoughts!

Macrae, C. N., Bodenhausen, G. V., Milne, A. B. & Jetten, J. (1994). Out of mind but back in sight: Stereotypes on the rebound. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 67, 808–817.

Great face for radio

Off the back of the Derren 'n' Joe show on Monday, I was asked to take part in a local BBC radio show this morning to discuss whether psychics are real or fake...


You can listen along by clicking here (it's in the first hour). I even have an impromptu go at a bit of psychometry... with interesting results!

Derren 'n' Joe

Last night's opening documentary as part of Derren Brown's new series, Derren Brown Investigates featured 'psychic medium' Joe Power, described as 'The Man Who Sees Dead People' (which just so happens to also be the title of Joe's book). One of Joe's claims includes contacting the spirit of John Lennon.

The premise of the programme was that Derren would spend five days with Joe to discover if he really does see dead people, or whether his abilities might be better explained in some other way.

None too surprisingly, Derren suspected that the latter was more likely: A combination of cold reading, warm reading, and a little bit of hot reading thrown in for good measure. Of course, Joe protested, and even accused Derren of... well, I'm not sure what he was accusing him of.

From the moment Derren entered Joe's rather humble looking flat and described it as 'gorgeous', you knew they weren't going to get on. And I suspect that Derren had already made up his mind as to Joe's authenticity. In the end, Joe came across as either deluded in his belief he could contact the dead or an outright fraud. Or a combination of the two.

The most (only?) impressive reading came when Joe seemed to give fairly accurate information to a woman as part of a one-to-one reading in her own house. Even DB seemed intrigued. It only emerged some weeks after filming that she was actually the next door neighbour of Joe's sister! What are the odds...

Update: The programme is now available at 4OD here. Oh, and we have a new Prime Minister.

Stay hungry. Stay foolish

I love it when you're searching the web for one thing and it brings you in to contact with stuff you weren't looking for. When I retrieved the James Randi talk at TED the other day, I came across another talk by Steve Jobs.

As if you didn't know, Mr Jobs is the head honcho, number one, top dog, big cheese at Apple. Below is the address he gave at the commencement ceremony at Stanford University back in 2005. 'Tis well worth a quarter of an hour of your time.

Stay lucky

Well, whaddya know... it turns out that keeping your fingers crossed does help after all!

A study to be published in the June issue of the journal Psychological Science reveals that 'activating a superstition' by for example, saying "keep your fingers crossed" can have a real effect and enhance subsequent task performance.

The German researchers had female university students engage in a 'motor dexterity task', which involved getting 36 small balls into 36 small holes by tilting a perspex cube backwards and forwards (you know the kind of thing... those infuriating little puzzles that require a delicate hand!). The students were separated into three conditions. In one condition, just as they were about to start the task, the researcher said the German equivalent of "I keep my fingers crossed!" (which in fact is apparently "I press the thumbs for you!"... but in German). The other two conditions were control conditions. The students in the experimental condition went on to complete the task significantly faster than those in either of the control conditions!

Damisch, L., Stoberock, B. & Mussweiler, T. (in press). Keep your fingers crossed! How superstition improves performance. Psychological Science.

James Randi at TED

After yesterday's brief stray into politics (don't know what happened there...), back to the important matter at hand. Below is another clip of my soon-to-be-nemesis, Mr Randi. This was filmed at TED back in 2007, but was only posted online a little over a week ago.

Who should I vote for?

With Election day looming, I thought I might actually start to pay some interest in the soon-to-be-changing political landscape. Up until 'Bigotgate' last week I was doing a fairly good job of ignoring the whole thing, but now even I am starting to pay attention.

Due to our move south, we may not get our polling cards in time, but if they do arrive before Thursday I might just get my arse (not ass) out and vote. Question is, who should I vote for? Luckily for the apolitical-minded like me there are websites like whoshouldyouvotefor.com. All you need to do is indicate whether you agree or disagree with a handful of policy-related statements to see which of the political parties you side with. As you can see from my results below, it would seem I'll be voting for the Green Party (which kinda surprised me...!).

Take the Who Should You Vote For? England quiz

Green				26
Liberal Democrat				10
UK Independence	-6
Conservative	-18
Labour	-20

Your recommendation: Green

So who will you vote for?

Update: Nice article in today's Independent about the media's response to Bigotgate, written by Armando Ianucci (the man behind The Thick of It).

Derren Brown Investigates

Been looking forward to these documentaries since the beginning of last year when I knew they were being made. The first one is to be shown on Channel 4 on May 10th.



One of the subjects under investigation is medium Joe Power. A little over a year ago, when putting these documentaries together, the producers of the show had hoped to conduct a controlled test of Joe's alleged abilities. The testing was to take place at the Psychology Department at Liverpool Hope University, so I was looking forward to meeting both Derren and Joe. Alas, it was not to be... after days of working out the logistics of the testing arrangements, Joe pulled out the night before the testing was due to be done.

Perhaps he would have been more motivated to take part if there had been a million dollars on offer?

Had a lovely day yesterday! And what a view we had... from the Little Chef. Not just any Little Chef mind, this was the one featured on the Channel 4 documentaries Big Chef Takes On Little Chef in which top chef Heston Blumenthal was brought in to revitalise the ailing Little Chef chain of roadside restaurants.

You guessed it. We didn't make it up in any balloon, we didn't even make it to Glastonbury. Our first phone call to confirm if the launch was going ahead left us hopeful of a possible take off as the recorded message instructed us to call back an hour later. Winds were a little high at the launch site but there was an outside chance these would drop by the time we were due to launch. We were already on our way, so we stopped off at the aforementioned Little Chef to sample some Heston-inspired roadside grub. Lovely.

As soon as the recorded message an hour later began with the words "I'm sorry but..." we knew it wasn't to be fourth time lucky for us. We'd need to go re-book and try again a fifth time.

Oh well. Given we had a babysitter (thank you Sandra and Keith!) we thought we would still make the most of it. We continued to drive through the countryside and discovered a beautiful little town called Bradford-on-Avon not too far from Bath and found a fantastic B&B for the night. A lovely evening stroll in the evening sunshine before a spot of tapas. Who needs a hot-air balloon?

Fourth time lucky?

For Valentine's Day Rachel booked a balloon flight for us (aaahhh...).

That was Valentine's Day 2008 and we still haven't yet been up in a balloon! Not for want of trying... so far we have booked three times but the weather has stopped us from taking off. In fact, we have not even got so far as even seeing a balloon, as the procedure involves you calling a number two hours before going to the launch site to make sure the launch is going ahead. Each time we have been told by the recorded message that it is too windy and that we should re-book. Personally, I'm not convinced Mr Branson even owns any balloons! (What about the balloon in the picture on the right I hear you ask... two words: "photo" and "shop".)

Today will be our fourth attempt. I'm a little more hopeful as the weather over the past few days has been glorious (although today is a little cloudy), and now that we are 'dahn saaf' we are due to launch from near Glastonbury. Our previous attempts were up in the Lake District (beautiful scenery but balloon-unfriendly weather).

I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I've heard that works.

Righteous Indignation

Ahead of Thursday's talk at the Merseyside Skeptics Society I was interviewed for this week's Righteous Indignation Podcast. The whole podcast lasts a little over an hour and includes plenty of discussion about the importance of critical thinking when it comes to making sense of the various claims that are often made about the paranormal and so on.

The interview with me is towards the end, and starts at around 45 minutes. And, no, I wasn't speaking from inside a metal box.

Skeptical Skousers

On Thursday this week, I will be returning to Liverpool to give a talk about the 'Million Dollar Psychic' project to the Merseyside Skeptics Society. In fact, it's my first public talk about the project so it's nice to be doing it in the city in which I have spent much of my adult life.

The talk begins at 8pm but earlier in the day I plan to try some psychometry. This, so the psychics tell us, where you try to pick up information about someone just from handling an object (like a ring, or a watch) that belongs to that person. I'm not making any claims about being able to do it but I need to practice at any opportunity I get!

The plan is to film my attempts and reveal how I got on as part of the talk in the evening. Nothing lik a little public scrutiny to help relax me...!

It's all happening at The Vines at 8pm on Thursday 15th April. More details here.

Are you brave enough?

Drove into London yesterday to see Ghost Stories at the Hammersmith Lyric. It was a frightening experience. Creepy, unnerving, gut-wrenching, and at times surreal. And that was just listening to Richard Madeley standing in for Simon Mayo on Radio 2 on the drive in.

The show itself was excellent. Lots of jump moments, and all brought together brilliantly. Highly recommended.

The man with the cash

A short clip of James Randi, he of the Million Dollar Challenge, courtesy of YouTube:



The clip dates from March 2008 and it is stated at the end that the challenge "...only lasts another couple of years." Fortunately (for me) the decision to withdraw the challenge in March 2010 was itself withdrawn last summer!

My Psychic Quotient

I'm currently reading Billy Roberts' 10-Step Psychic Development Programme. None-too-surprisingly, it's written by Billy Roberts (or Billy Roblets as Freya refers to him...). I met Billy for the first time a couple of weeks' ago even though he used to run a paranormal centre in Liverpool just a mile or so from the University I worked at for ten years!

I told Billy about my rather ambitious attempt to learn to become psychic (oh, and win a million dollars!) and he very kindly gave me a copy of his book on psychic development. How cool is that?

Towards the beginning of the book, in order to identify where you are on the psychic development path, your 'psychic quotient' so to speak, Billy very helpfully provides a quick test consisting of ten questions (another ten questions point to your psychic potential). I'm hoping he won't mind me copying them here so you, too, can discover your psychic quotient. All you need to do is answer 'yes' or 'no' to each question:

1. Do you feel an affinity with some people more than others?

2. Do you sometimes have strong feelings about imminent events, perhaps an inner voice telling you something is wrong?

3. Do you sometimes find yourself daydreaming in the middle of a conversation with someone, even though you are not bored?

4. Do you sometimes have vivid dreams about impending doom and disaster?

5. Do sweet or unusual fragrances sometimes remind you of someone who is dead?

6. Do you ever see images when staring at a carpet or curtains?

7. Do you sometimes think you can hear someone calling your name when you know you are alone in the house?

8. When lying in bed, do you ever feel pressure on top of the covers, as though someone were sitting on the end of the bed?

9. Have you experienced deja vu on more than one occasion?

10. When drifting off to sleep, do you see small faces passing quickly in front of you?

How many did you say 'yes' to? According to Billy, if you said 'yes' to between seven and ten of the questions above then you already have developed psychic abilities! I only said 'yes' to four of the questions, but that just means my psychic abilities simply need a little encouragement. Even if you found yourself saying 'yes' to just three or less of the questions, there is still hope... with patience and determination you'll still meet your psychic potential!

That million dollars is mine for the taking...

Spooks on stage

I am soooo looking forward to this... Rachel surprised me with tickets for Ghost Stories at the Lyric next month. Here's the trailer:

Still here (just)

Nearly another month has passed since I took it upon myself to record some thoughts here! My only excuse is that we have moved house again, and for much of that time we have been without broadband. And the only reason we have access to the interweb now is because we can get our neighbours' wi-fi signal!

Anyway, will try and get back in the habit of jotting some not so random thoughts down here once in a while.

Bored? Try this

I recently finished (and thoroughly enjoyed) Dave Gorman’s Googlewhack Adventure. A ‘Googlewhack’ is where you enter two words into Google and the search results consist of a single web page. That is, where you might normally see several thousand, or even several million, hits for your search terms, a Googlewhack shows just one hit.

Dave Gorman’s adventure begins when he learns that he, himself, is a Googlewhack. At the time, Gorman’s website was the only one in the world to include the words ‘francophile’ and ‘namesakes’. The book tells the story of what happens when, instead of writing the novel he was supposed to be writing, Gorman is challenged to see if he can find ten Googlewhacks in a row. It’s a great read, and the ultimate lesson in procrastination!

I imagine like many readers of the book, once I’d finished it I was curious to see if I could find my own Googlewhack. The idea is to choose two unusual words that shouldn't really have anything to do with each other. My first attempt, 'hasselhoff infinity' is rubbish. 58,500 hits. Also I realise it wouldn't even qualify as the two words are supposed to be words that would appear in dictionary.com. (Hasselhoff wouldn't qualify, unless it is there as a word that means coiffured tit.*) My second attempt, 'tenterhooks felines', fairs a little better but with 24,800 hits it is still a long way off. 'Tenterhooks drummerboy' does better with only 563 hits!... 'Primaeval hotelier' 991 hits... 'Primaeval tenterhooks' 381 hits... 'paraphimosis tenterhooks' 161 hits. By this time I'm getting a little weary and I wince when I discover what paraphimosis means. So I stop.

My difficulty in being able to find even one Googlewhack makes Gorman's challenge all the more impressive. I'll let you know if I ever actually discover one!

*'coiffured tit': 266,000 hits.

Just discovered

Am I going gaga?

That is the question I have been asking myself ever since receiving an email from the man who runs a website called BadPsychics.

As its name suggests, BadPsychics is largely dedicated to exposing ‘psychics’ and ‘mediums’ as nothing more than frauds and conmen (or conwomen); or at the very least as individuals who are deluded into thinking they might have paranormal abilities. The website also hosts a collection of forums on which members debate (or perhaps debunk) the latest psychic to grace our television screens.

The email was to inform me that someone had posted to one of the forums asking if Dr Matthew Smith had gone gaga as they had read that I had been quoted as describing a particular medium as ‘one of the most impressive mediums I have seen’.

You might wonder why anyone would care if I had gone gaga. Well it all stemmed from the fact that the good folks at BadPsychics knew me as a voice for the ‘sceptical community’ through my involvement on a TV show called Most Haunted. My role, as a psychologist and parapsychologist, was to put forward alternative explanations for apparently paranormal occurrences that took place during an investigation of an allegedly haunted location. As far as this programme was concerned, I was the ‘voice of reason’ who did not believe in ghosts and was there to ensure that the rational explanation for any apparently ghostly phenomena was heard.

So to be quoted as describing a medium as one of the most impressive I’d seen clearly raised a few eyebrows. But being sceptical doesn’t, or at least shouldn’t, rule out being open to apparently paranormal phenomena. It is more to do with having a questioning approach to unusual and extraordinary claims.

Mediums claim to communicate with spirits of the dead. By anyone’s account, this is quite a remarkable claim and so it is reasonable to be sceptical. But I am also intrigued. Many mediums give messages that are rather vague and likely to apply to quite a few people, and so they do not provide compelling evidence that they really are receiving messages from the dead.

However, on the several occasions I’ve seen this particular medium perform, he has given messages that seem to contain both accurate and specific details such as names (first and last), dates, even addresses. He has even been known to provide such information under conditions that seem to rule out some of the more obvious non-paranormal explanations like cold-reading. So, yes, I am happy to be quoted as regarding this medium as one of the most impressive mediums I have seen.

The question I am now asking myself is, how does he do it? Is he really communicating with spirits of the dead? Is he drawing upon some other as yet unexplained power of the mind like telepathy? Or is there some other non-paranormal explanation for his apparent abilities?

These are the really interesting questions to ask. And sceptics should ask questions – they should seek to find answers – not make assumptions.

This article was originally published in Paranormal Magazine in October 2009. It is reprinted here with permission.

Normal service has been resumed...

It seems that Phil'n'FernGate has been resolved. It wasn't meant to be a puzzle or a fiendish psychological experiment. Just one of those little things... when I woke up that morning I didn't imagine that a few hours later I'd be posting letters to Sir Phil and Dame Fern (I know they're not, but they should be...).

Sorry to have kept you in suspense by not moving on with fresh and witty posts (yeah, right) to distract you from Lord Phil and Lady Fern. A technical hitch meant that for the past few days I wasn't able to log in to blogger. Normal service has now been resumed (as in you may or may not see a blog post appear from time to time...)

Phil 'n' Fern

Today I posted two letters. One to Philip Schofield. The other to Fern Britton. Not sure how that happened.

Going South

The sound of broken glass being shoveled into a bin is not the sound you really want to hear at the end of a house move.

Saturday saw us move from the North (well, Knutsford... "posh North") to the South (where they're all posh aren't they?). All seemed to be going well, right up to the point where I pulled out one of the bookcases that half a second later I remembered was propping up seven or eight framed pictures. It was the huge great crash of glass splintering that reminded me of this fact.

As it turned out, it sounded worse than it was. It was the glass in only two of the pictures that had smashed. I'm learning to always look for the positives.

Some people...

A few posts back I mentioned a recently published book on Anomalous Experiences what I edited. A fairly descriptive review of the book can be found here.

All very well, but he doesn't even mention the index once.

eBay 'eck!

It started with a singing bear. Not just any singing bear. This was Bear. From The Big Blue House. Freya is a bit of a fan of Bear. So, in the weeks leading up to Christmas, Rachel discovered a singing Bear for sale on eBay. At £6, it was a bargain. However, by the time it arrived through the post, we figured Freya would prefer a non-singing version (fickle I know). So Rachel re-advertised the singing Bear on eBay. A few days later and it was sold. For more than double what she paid for it!

With dollar signs in our eyes, we looked round to see if there was anything else we could sell on eBay. Our eyes fell on Freya's old pushchair. Although, of course, it's not just a pushchair is it? It's a pushchair-pram-car-seat combination. Limited edition no less. We had been meaning to sell it for some time, but hadn't got round to it. But buoyed by the success of the singing Bear, I gave it a thorough clean and took a few photos. Rachel did the technical bit of putting the listing on eBay, as I must admit to being an eBay virgin (as in I have never used eBay not that you can bid for my, ahem... well, you knew what I meant). Before you could say, "pushchair combo up for sale," the pushchair combo was up for sale! The auction would last for seven days. We would have to wait and see if anyone would actually bid for it.

Before long, there was an opening bid of £100. Not bad! We would have been happy with that, but there was soon a second bid of £105. Bidder 1 quickly responded with a return, and frankly unusual, bid of £129.99! As far as I understand how eBay works, each subsequent bid is supposed to go up by a certain minimum amount (e.g., £5), but you can put in 'automatic' bids so that if another bidder bids higher than your first bid, it will revert to your automatic bid, if it's higher than the second person's bid (are you following this?). Bidder 2 must have done this because his or her next bid was just a penny more at £130. Bidder 1 must have done the same, as it then jumped to £132. Meanwhile, a third bidder (let's call them bidder 3) had been watching this and upped the ante with a bid of £150!

Things were now hotting up. It was obviously too rich for bidder 2. But bidder 1 was having none of it. He/she hit back with a bid of £165.99. But it was to be short-lived. A few hours later, bidder 3 jumped to £190. Rachel and I just watched as the bids rose. We were just pleased that anyone wanted to buy the pushchair!

Things went quiet for a few days. Rachel assured me this was typical. If there were to be any more bids, they would be just before the bidding deadline, so we didn't expect any more movement for a couple of days. Even if there were no more bids, £190 would have been a good selling price!

As the final hour of the auction approached, we kept an eye on eBay just in case there were any more bids. As Rachel had predicted interest returned. A brand new bidder who we'll call, for the sake of consistency, bidder 4, pitched in with £195. But bidder 4 hadn't appreciated that bidder 1 had been in this from the very beginning (although the name 'bidder 1' in the bidding history may have given it away), and wasn't going to let this Johnny Come Lately (not his real name) steal the glory. Bidder 1 offered £200.

All remained quiet as the final minutes of the auction ticked by. There was less than a minute left when bidder 4 upped the stakes with a bid of £235! But bidder 1 didn't want to lose this. They offered £240. But with seconds to go a bid of £261 from bidder 4. Surely that was it.

5... 4... 3... 2... £266! Sold. To bidder 1.

Exciting stuff this eBaying! Now, what else can we sell?

The iPad

Already got an iPod and an iPhone? Next thing you'll want is an iPad, launched today. Although it's bigger than an iPhone, I don't think it's quite as big as it appears in this clip.

In it to win it

I'm not a regular buyer of lottery tickets. But I bought one this week, just in case my new found psychic skills were able to determine this week's lottery numbers.

Of course, prior to tonight's draw, Rachel and I had had the obligatory conversation about what we'd do with the money if we won. Tonight was a £7 million rollover, so around £3-4 million would go to charity, up to a million on a nice new house, and the rest in gifts, etc. We had it all worked out.

I won't beat around the bush. We didn't win. Not even £10. Two numbers came up. But I suppose my chances of winning the lottery are even lower than winning James Randi's million dollar challenge!

From flukey to spooky!

Things got even weirder today. I tried my hand at psychometry, which is where you try to pick up information 'psychically' from just holding an object that belongs to someone. I had four objects to pick from: A stone, two finger-rings, and a watch. I picked up the stone to see if I could 'sense' anything using my new found psychic skills (!)

It was smooth and just felt cold to the touch, but with a little questioning from my 'tutor' I eventually said it made me think of Brighton beach and I could imagine it being picked from the beach by a young girl (the stone had child-like patterns painted on its surface). When asked to suggest which decade it was picked from the beach, I immediately came back with the 1970s, as that would have been when I was a young child. It turned out the stone was indeed from Brighton beach, and was picked up from the beach by a child (a boy, not a girl) in 1972! Not a bad start, eh?

Even more bizarrely, a little later on, when I was recapping on what I had done I jokingly made out that I had really known that it was a boy who had picked it up and, yes, I sensed it was in 1972.

"...And his name was Michael," I joked.

"No, his name wasn't Michael, but that's his father's name and he's the one who gave me the stone," my tutor told me.

"...Joseph," I quickly added.

"Yes, Joseph is his middle name. Michael Joseph!"

What are the odds?

Talking of weird experiences, this morning we were in the centre of Oxford doing a bit of filming for the 'Million Dollar Psychic' project I mentioned a few months ago. The plan was for me to stop people on the street and try to guess their mother's first name. The idea was to see if I had any signs of hidden psychic abilities before I started my attempt to learn to become psychic! We'd film, say, three or four different attempts and see me getting it wildly wrong time and time again. At least that was the plan.

The first person I approach was a young woman whose name, I quickly discover, is Helen. Not through psychic means; she tells me. I briefly explain what we're doing, and ask her if she would mind helping us for a couple of minutes. Reluctantly, she agrees.

As she's thinking of her mum's name, I close my eyes to see if anything comes to mind. Nothing. So, instead I try gazing off into the middle distance, and I notice a sign at the entrance to the college behind her. "Balliol College."

"Does your mum's name have a B in it?" I ask.

"Er, yes..." she replies.

"Does it begin with B?" I ask again.

"Er... yeah..." I think I'm more impressed than she is. She eyes me up suspiciously. I just go for the first female name I can think of beginning with B.

"Is her name Barbara?"

"Yes!"

I'm completely flummoxed. Helen walks away as I'm left open-mouthed. She no doubt thinks it's some kind of trick.

I know it was just a lucky guess, but I'm wondering if I could be psychic already?

Just in case, later in the day I buy a lottery ticket for this Saturday's Lotto draw... well if I'm on a roll I don't want it to go to waste!

A-Z of weird experiences

In June 2005, a few of us organised a conference called 'Developing Perspectives on Anomalous Experience'. A mere four and a half years later a book containing the papers presented at the conference has finally been published.

Topics covered include psychic phenomena (like telepathy and precognition), hauntings and apparitions, hypnosis, out-of-body experiences, alien abduction experiences, and even the kinds of experiences people report in seances. Contributors are academics from around the world.

It's hard to pick out a favourite chapter, but I'm particularly proud of the index. It took Rachel and I ages to do that. It's in alphabetical order and everything!

The book is called Anomalous Experiences, published by McFarland, and is available from Amazon.

Candid classic

I recently re-discovered this mildly amusing demonstration of conformity on YouTube:



Apparently, leading social psychologists Stanley Milgram and Philip Zimbardo were both big Candid Camera fans. Milgram went on to conduct ethically questionable experiments that demonstrated the conditions under which we obey authority. Zimbardo's famous Stanford Prison Experiment had to be halted early because participants became so distressed at being required to role-play prisoners and guards in a mock prison.

At least Allen Funt, creator of Candid Camera, had the decency to just show people looking a bit silly in a lift.

A piece of cake

Wow, a full month since I last blogged! But it doesn't mean I've not being doing anything, just because I haven't got round to blogging about it. In fact, I've begun to wonder about our need to tell others about what we're up to through blogs, twitter and, my personal favourite, Facebook. Why do some of us have the need to update friends and strangers with our latest activities, even if it's just to say that we're feeling tired or that we're looking forward to eating a piece of cake?

Anyway, Christmas and New Year were both great (thank you for asking). The big decision we made on returning to the homestead (i.e., the flat) was that we were going to move south. As is often the case with decisions like this, we had probably made the decision some time back, but now was the time for action. We gave our month's notice on the flat (i.e., the homestead), so we'll be upping sticks at the beginning of February. We haven't got a house to move to yet, but Rachel's parents have very kindly said we can stay with them until we get somewhere. So if anyone knows of a house for rent in the Oxfordshire region, you know what to do...

Anyway, I'm tired. Where's that cake?