Monthly Archives: December 2017


I’ve had separate text message exchanges with two blokes this evening. About Cheburashka. 

That’s the weird little thing with big ears in the middle. 

My first encounter with Cheburashka was at an Eels gig. An old film was the support. The dialogue was Russian, but some Eels content had been cleverly added. 

Anyway, both myself and my mate Ian have a Cheburashka condiment holder. I fear that mine may be radioactive. I’ve never asked whether Ian’s might be. Both were bought from Russia, mine from the Ukraine. 

An old mate, Tom, is currently in the Crimea. He’s not yet encountered Cheburashka. 


The high level bridge is my most favourite bridge. Its restoration over a decade ago was remarkable, turning an old blackened monster into a thing of beauty. 

In recent years, though, grafitti has made something of a mess of the structure. Apparently, the estimated cost of a clean-up is around £40,000. Removing the mess would probably be a waste of time, however. The underlying cause would remain and the grafitti would doubtless return. Kids. 

It may have seemed cute in the beginning, but the addition of hundreds of locks has attracted lovesick teenagers. Who, in addition to leaving a token of their undying love, leave the names of their loved ones, friends and words of youthly wisdom. 

Personally, I’d remove them all and throw them into the Tyne. Along with any returning teenagers. 

As an aside, there’s an interesting trick of light in the first picture. I was alone on the bridge. 


I’m currently watching a documentary about the last flying Vulcan bomber. 

As a child, I once saw one crash. I was with other kids from school, in Hetton for swimming lessons. We saw an aircraft in flames, parachutes and what seemed, at such a distance, as a small explosion on impact. 

Christmas tree

The controversial Christmas tree in Peterborough has made a return. 

It’s been in use for several years now, so perhaps the high cost was justified. 

Still horrible, though. 


A pub crawl in Edwinstowe:

The Forest Lodge

The Royal Oak

The Black Swan

The Hammer and Wedge

(Which appears to be an ex-social club)

The Dukeries

Where we are spending a couple of nights. 

Only five pubs, but a nice place. 

The Captain

it’s now some years since Morgan’s rum was rebranded as Captain Morgan’s, with a new spiced rum and a Jack Sparrow-like figurehead 

The current incarnation of the latter is being portrayed in this fashion. 

And, so, I’ve decided I should perhaps live like the Captain. A move which could necessitate the purchase of a pair of ladies’ boote.