Anniversary...

It's one year ago today since The Beast arrived:



What fun it's been.

I should be high tailing it, with my fair one, over to our alma mata tonight for the annual Old Boy's Weekend. A reunion of all the university alumni for the playing of sports, climbing of mountains, plenty of good food and craic, washed down with liberal quantities of ale. Alas, despite being a tradition for the past 7 years, and a standing appointment, the rest of our gang have found organising a ride and accommodation on this 1/52th of the year a little taxing. Thus they're not going. Nor, consequently, are we. I, on the other hand, had managed to arrange cushy accommodation using my academic contacts and credentials to actually stay at the university's fancy conference centre manor, but no good. So I'm a little pissed.

I hate having three days off and no POA. Pfft.

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Back o' Glyderau

Yup, I found a back way up the Glyderau in Snowdonia. Photos from the lastest climbing trip:


SlippedTaking a well earned break.


Trying to avoid getting blown into the Cwm.


The Cantilever stone on Glyder Fach. Cliché photo op.


Some random Mountain Goats that we smelt coming (man do they stink!), but they still scared the bejesus out of us when they jumped out at us!

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The dog ate it....

The dog ate my homework, er, my blog. I spilt paint on it Sir. I left it on the bus, Miss. I wasn't hear at the time, Sir.

Well. It's not like I've not had plenty of topics to write about, in fact just the opposite. Gent was so relaxing a break that I actually enjoyed not having to compartmentalise and distill my lifely experiences into blog material. Anyway, I'll start in reverse chronological order and work my way back, or forward, whichever. With any luck, I'll enter my highlights from Gent, for personal posterity. Not all in the one posting though.

I was in Manchester this weekend, visiting an old friend for a day and a night out. Food was eaten, cider and beer drunk, the theatre attended, philosophy discussed and the world put in its place. I arrived Saturday morning, dropped off by my fair lady, to find my amigo in a somewhat dishevelled state, waking with a start believing it was Thursday. It turns out that he was mugged the previous night and freed of his phone. After giving chase for almost 800 metres, he'd decided that he really was rather too drunk to be chasing the bandit at 1 am in the morning.

So this fact was a continuing source of annoyance for him throughout the weekend. The reason I mention all of this....? Well, after leaving Mojo at 2 am Saturday night/Sunday morning, we made our way into the centre of Manchester where, right in front of us, a young lass is mugged, her purse snatched and she is left spinning and on the ground. My mate was off like a shot after the mugger, desperately seeking revenge or closure for the previous night, I followed on to ensure he didn't get himself into too much of a situation, but it seemed that the mugger wasn't prepared from someone being so determined to catch him so dumped the purse - not before removing the cash and a few cards.

So we delivered the purse back to the girl, who then became distraught and intermitantly sobbed on each of our shoulders for the next 30 mins as we walked her across town to Oxford Road where we put her on a bus back to her friend's house. She'd studied in Manc for three years and never been mugged, then after graduating, she'd returned to see a friend with her boyfriend, who'd ended their relationship that night, on the street, and had jumped into a taxi. Not 10 minutes later, she was mugged. Figures.

Anyway, she sent a thank you text to us the following day, the complete strangers who'd helped her out after life had taken a dump on her.

I don't think we're ready for Batman and Robin costumes yet. Wearing underpants on the outside was never a good fashion statement.

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