Busy, Busy.

Some months ago I managed to agree to play two gigs on the same day, that day was yesterday.
They were approximately 25 miles apart.
This was not a problem for a man with a plan.

The first performance was with The Flying Aspidistras! (I typed that in bold green on purpose just to see what it looked like.) at the Uke at the Duke Ukulele Festival with Ukuleles.
We are to take the stage at 15:30, we will be playing around about a 10 min set of 3 songs:

• Puttin'n On The Ritz
• Rum and Coca Cola
• There 'ain't Nobody Here But Us Chickens.

The second performance with the Bamboo Band, in aid of the RAFA Club, at the Waverley Public House in Bognor Regis.
We are to take the stage at 17:30, we will be playing for around 45 mins.
I'll have no idea what we'll be playing until I'm stood, uke in hand, in front of the audience, waiting for Lord Jim to tell me what to play.

By simple subtraction we can see that the 1hr. 45 min. gap between the two appearances leaves plenty of time to cover the 25 miles from Shoreham to Bognor Regis.

The situation changed on Friday when a half hour got shaved off the Waverley gig start time moving it to 17:00.
Knowing how flexible festival timetables can become I started to worry a bit.
Sunday traffic levels always seem heavier than the normal week day load, I suppose it's made up of people like me going to ukulele festivals and such like.
I know it takes about an hour-ish to get from Shoreham to Bognor.

By Sunday morning I'd become overwhelmed by possible imaginary timetables and pre-gig nerves.
At 13:35 me and my best gal, Lindy Lou, were on our way to Shoreham.

It takes 54 minutes if you choose to take the A27 route BTW.

The clock is ticking and it ticks to 15:35:

Ladies and Gentlemen!

(filmed by Independent Film Maker, Ned Ouwell.)

It is now 16:00 and we're in the car, taking a different route, to Bognor Regis.

It takes 45 mins (including costume change) and:

...they all lived happily ever after.

P.S. I've only just realised what Lord Jim is singing about.

Adventures In Modern Cycling: To Pagham on the Raleigh Chiltern (Barry the Bike)

I'm beginning to like the Raleigh Chiltern, I temporarily gave the name 'Barry', quite a lot.

Barry's a bit of a plodder, but reliable, unfussy, does what it says on the tin.

Barry goes along.

Barry's taken me to two different Post Offices, my garden watering job, and an enjoyable aimless drift through the burbs of Bognor Regis.

I enjoyed the aimless drift so much I thought I'd give it another go,

Not so aimless this time perhaps.

A plate mission to...

Then on to...

Via....

With as little contact with cars as possible.

Along the prom, which is now nearly fully open to cyclists, toward Bognor.

Just because one can cycle on the prom doesn't mean one should, especially on the narrow bit.

The wide bit can be as bad:

I left the prom before the human/bicycle tolerance ratio became to close and someone got a Raleigh Chiltern parked in their backside.

Through quiet unglamorous streets behind the main drag back toward the pier to photograph Barry.

The above picture was taken once I'd crossed at the pelican.

I'm glad I didn't try to negotiate a path through that teaming hoard.

I don't think mixing it up on that stretch of prom is a particularly good idea.

On to the pier.

Plate placed and recorded.

It's high-tide and several hairy fishing types are casting from the end of the pier.

Here's the Barry p0rn:

There's still a significant amount of cosmetic work to do on Barry, but mechanically he's as sound as a pound.

The mudguards make a satisfyingly familiar rattle when the bike's ridden over bumps.

I turn to leave the pier and witness this sequence of events unfold:

• 01) There is a loud splash as something hits the sea.
• 02) There is a young girl dressed in a blue t-shirt bobbing about in the water whilst shouting encouragement to her friend who is hanging above the sea from the outside of the pier deck rail.
• 03) The young girl hanging from the pier deck rail seems reluctant to jump until her friend below is out of the way.
• 04) errr,, now this is about where I got a bit of a conflict going.

This was obviously dangerous behaviour, all sorts of things can go horribly wrong.

Jumping from the pier is expressly forbidden by large ominous signs, and some more polite requests of yesteryear painted in a jolly seaside font.

Y'know know what child?

F%#k the law:

And in that moment she was free.

There's lots of 'tutting' and 'well I nevers' from the few people walking on the prom.

(The guys in the picture, leaning on the rail, might not have even noticed the adolescent child launching herself into the, almost, unknown).

I hung about on the pier looking toward Pagham.

The two girls reappeared on the deck.

I called across to them, holding out my iPod displaying the picture.

They came over and took a quick glance and went back for another jump.

I'd wanted to tell girl number 2 how brave I thought she was, but noticed a few people were now eyeing me sternly.

I left the pier and hit the burbs again aiming vaguely for Pagham harbour.

I rode through street after avenue after way after close then turning round to go back because there's a clue in the word 'Close' that I chose to ignore.

Bungalow land, Death's waiting room.

That's a cliche, but only because it's true.

Oh, I seem to have drifted to the entrance for Pagham Nature Reserve.

It's a footpath which means Barry must be walked not ridden.

Some times laws are sensible and should be obeyed.

I took a while to stand and stare:

I wondered if Tara and Kevin were still an item?

I took more pictures of Barry:

and Elvis:

Barry certainly is an adventurous one.

Banana 45

I'm worried about this banana.

It's been in the same position for 3 days (it's a little bit browner now).

I can't bananas.

That is, I can eat bananas, but my body rejects them alarmingly quickly via the same route as they when in.

Doesn't really matter as I'd have been reluctant to eat this particular banana anyway.

Who placed this banana here?

Did someone drop it, then another someone pick it up and place it in its current position,

I may never know.

Truly the world is filled with mystery.

The Joy of Things: Bognor Regis Charity Shops.

I don't offen visit the 'national' charity shops nowadays.
Having worked for one of the larger national charities I had plenty of time to become disillusioned with the way they did business.
This shouldn't be seen in any way as cutting my nose off to spite my face or residual bitterness toward an uncaring employer.
Quite honestly since the major charities began "competing with the highstreet brands" and "profile awareness development" they've become very bland and throw out most of the interesting items that get donated to them.
That's why I spend so much time checking their bins.

The interesting charity shops are the locally based enterprises.
The sure fire test of an interesting charity is the way the shop smells.
The closer to unwashed armpit odor they get the more interesting stock they seem to have.

Here are my top four Bognor Regis Charity Shops:

Cat & Rabbit Rescue

RFR Charity

4Sight

Alexander Theater Charity Shop

To be fair, the only one that really smells of armpits is the RFR, but its by far the most interesting of the bunch.

Blue Plaque Spotting No. 6: Tony Hancock.

I was out on a route march, as part of my back rehabilitation programme, striding, well, more lurching toward the Bognor Regis suburb of Aldwick.

On passing the Royal Norfolk Hotel I noticed this plaque:

The plaque really is blue but, after a random shake of Hipstarmatic, I got this.

I've walked past the Royal Norfolk Hotel many, many times before yet not spotted it which worried me a bit because I'm usually quite observant.
Having done a little bit of research it seems that the plaque only appeared late last year.
Tony Hancock was in Bognor during the filming of The Punch and Judy Man.
I can't say I'm a Hancock fan but, although I've seen the film a long, long time ago, I'm tempted to give it another viewing just to see what Bognor Regis looked like in those days.

Back To Square -1

Had another of those restless wide awake imagineering nights last night.
I can usually build very complex imaginary constructions during those long watches of the night but last night was all about de-construction.
Guess what I was de-constucting?

There, that's better.

Once the engine was removed I was alarmed at the amount of damage it had inflicted on the down-tube which now looks as if it's been given several hefty thumps with a lump hammer.

I've changed my mind about this bicycle so many times I can't remember if I like it or not.

On the evidence of the ride along the prom to the pier I think I'm in a 'liking' phase at the moment and shall change my allegiance from the Motorized (sic)Bicycle Forum to the RatRod Forum which deals with all things hastily-cobbled-together-bicycle.

Riding it is a gentle 'hello sky, hello birds, hello sea' pleasure.

It's not fast, it still can't be ridden 'look, no hands' but that's not what's required on a sunny day in Bognor Regis.

A side issue of this deconstruction/re-imagining is what to do with the 5 litres of 2 stroke mix I now have in a plastic container (N.B. not a 'jerry' can).

I won't be asking any politician for advice though.

I've just remembered something from a long time ago!

I'd be about 10 years old, helping out in my father's garage.

We were decanting 5 gallons of petrol from a proper jerry-can into the underground petrol storage tank via a large funnel.

A customer stood watching us.

He asked my father if he didn't consider this practice somewhat dangerous.

'No' said my father removing the cigarette from his mouth and extinguishing it in a small puddle of petrol that had spilt on the garage floor.

His point being that it's the vapour that's (in)flammable not the liquid.

By the way the customer walked (and the smell) as he left I think he'd just shit his pants.

Oh, how we laughed in those far off days.

Squires Craft Shop (R.I.P.)

For me the closing down of Squires Craft shop is a disaster, a tragedy beyond measure.
I'm told it's passing is not down to the current economic climate but a marriage break-up.
Don't take my word on that, I could be horribly wrong.

Squires was a palace of wonders as far as I was concerned.
Even if I didn't need anything in the craft supply line I'd wander about in the shop just getting inspiration.
Several times I even tried to get a job there packing mail-order sales.
Didn't get a job but I never stopped trying.

I went there today to buy an male XLR plug for one of my microphones and, although I knew it's closing down was imminent, wasn't quite prepared for the reality of the situation.

There's going to be a final everything must go sale in March so I'll have to get my shopping list together.

Truly, I can't communicate how upset I am about the loss of this wonderful shop.

A Lesson Learned.

I've spent a good proportion of the day packing my eBay sales.
I did make enough money to buy that really good quality tenor ukulele, and a hard-case for it as well.
That plan's out of the window though.

I realised, after furiously packing the items, that transporting them to the post office may prove difficult unless I managed to stretch my arms by about another two feet.
Light bulb over head incident!
I dug out the shopping trolly I was going to use the wheels from for something, dusted it off and loaded it up.
The post office is about 1/4 of a mile away and, having drawn the venn diagram, worked out that the utility to embarrassment was worth it.
Taking as round-about-but-direct route as I could make, I arrive outside the Felpham Post Office.

Is anyone familiar with the concept of "half-day closing"?
HALF-DAY BLOODY CLOSING!???
Monumental bollocks on stilts more like!

I don't care what the little-England-traditional-pre-decimalised-to-many-eastern- europeans-Daily-Mail/Express-reading-muslims-ate-our-dog-or-was-it-an-urban-fox-because-they-eat-babies-y'know-bring-back-weekly-rubbish-collection-and -flogging brigade think.
Half-day closing in the Twenty-First century, especially of a POST-OFFICE is ridiculous!
And typing of ridiculous...

I now have to trundle the shopping trolly to the main post office in Bognor Regis.
The nice lady (Rosie) behind the counter, smiled and complimented me on my lovely trolly.

I'm still a long, long way off my target for the steam-cleaner I want but I grow more determined by the day to own one.
In the meantime, here's a picture to remind me of what the target actually is:

If I'm going to spend £900 on you, you'd better learn to smile mate.

More Ignorant Ornithology.

Seen in Bognor Regis's London Road:

A skeletal flying insect being.

Thanks. That Helps No End.

I watched the BBC's local news programme (South Today) on the television last night.
I watch it every night for the weather forecast.
I need a vague idea of what the weather will bring the following day so I can make sure I dress correctly for the conditions.
Wind speed/direction are my preferred indicators as these have the most influence on my cycle ride to and from work.
(I prefer riding into the wind on the way to work then letting the wind blow me home on the ride back.)

Last night a report on local government spending cuts caught my attention.
The format usually focuses on an individual's personal experience of proposed cuts and tends to play heavily on the 'human-story' with much weeping, wailing and hand-wringing.
Last night featured a report on cuts to public transport services in rural areas and the knock-on effect it will have on the, mostly, elderly people who rely on buses to get them from their isolated bucolic hovels to anywhere that might have a shop/doctor/post office.
The piffling amount of money the county council will save by cutting this budget was contrasted with the MILLIONS of pounds they have ear-marked to restore the Chichester Festival Theatre.

But that's not what got my goat.

After the report the discussion continued in the studio.
Much was said about the level of social deprivation that's all to evident in the towns along the south coast and the seeming incongruity between the cuts to services and the funding for the restoration.

But that's not what got my goat either.

What really buttered my necktie was, as an illustrative example of this appalling social deprivation, they used footage of the main shopping area in Bognor Regis!

To be fair the BBC didn't actually identify Bognor but it annoyed me just the same.

So, If you want to experience social deprivation at first hand, why not visit Bognor Regis?
(And bring your wallet).

Welcome to Dumpsville Pop: Fuming

"Cancel building the Guy lads".
"Some dick 'ed just volunteered".

Typical

That is sooooo Bognor.

The Bognor Birdman Cometh.

We are approaching one of the cultural high-spots in the Bognor Regis season.
The Bognor Birdman
(Oh, I should qualify the event's title by adding the word 'International'.)

The scaffold construction, at the end of what's left of the pier, is the launch pad for anyone wanting to demonstrate their inability to soar like an eagle.
There's usually some form of philanthropic justification incentivising those about to plummet.
It does strike me a curious that, at any other time of year, jumping from the pier is discouraged by threats of prosecution:

Should I ever decide to take an active part in this event, it would be because I want to dress up as a giant chicken and still be able to wander about in public without the usual taunting and gratuitously savage beatings.

Tuc-Tuc Taxi Spotting In The Rain, In Bognor Regis.

Today, sorry, yesterday saw thunder and lightening make several visits to
Bognor Regis.
Planing to photograph a lightening strike, I took up position in one of the cast-iron shelters on the prom.
I might as well have tried to platt fog as try to photograph lightening.
Fortunately this happened:

Adie the Tuc-tuc taxi man obviously knows no fear.

A 'Tuc-Tuc' Arrives in Bognor Regis (exclusive video and pictures). Updated.

My goodness! Bogor Regis is an exciting town to be in this week.
Hot on the tail of a Hovercraft being washed up on the beach we see the arrival of our first Tuc-Tuc taxi service.

I emerged from the arcade to see a little knot of people stood around a very shiny little vehicle (out of shot):

There was a confused elderly gentleman dressed as a clown who had been delivered to the town centre in the Tuc-Tuc.
The other gentleman dressed as a clown is the mayor of Bognor Regis.
The mayor was in the process of wrapping up the 'event' and I was sore disappointed that I'd missed the whole thing.
Then the mayor announced that there would have to be a re-run for the benefit of the BBC who had been delayed.
The elderly gentleman dressed as a clown was re-loaded into the Tuc-Tuc and the little knot of people waved it off as it disappeared down the High Street.
Then the little knot of people waved at the Tuc-Tuc as it re-appeared at the other end of the High Street.
Unfortunately the BBC still hadn't turned up.
The little knot of people shuffled about, some handing out leaflets, some (local press I think) snapped more pictures of the Tuc-Tuc and the confused elderly gentleman dressed as a clown who decided to remain seated in it.

The BBC man arrived.
Lots of handshaking and BBC man type pointing.
What happened next (not very much) can be seen here:

The person that interests me most is the midget in the black county-court suit c/w black shirt and sunglasses. I'm not exactly sure what his purpose was.

Anyway, I wish the owner of the Tuc-Tuc every success and I'll keep him in my thoughts especially around 11:00 p.m. on any given Friday or Saturday night.

To finish here's a picture of the owner of the Tuc-Tuc with the confused elderly gentleman dressed as a clown:

Awwww, bless.

Update:
I notice that the Wikipedia entry for the Tuc-Tuc or, Auto-rickshaw informs the reader that "autorickshaws can be found in many developing countries".
So, there's hope for Bognor Regis yet. 

Hovercraft on the Beach at Bogor Regis! (exclusive pictures)

Life in Bognor Regis doesn't get much more exciting than this!

It's owners were trying to drum up trade for a trip out to sea.
Didn't look like business was particularly brisk.

Tinie Tiny Bognor Regis (Tilt/Shift Progress)

Short but sweet tilt/shifted film taken from the top deck of Morrison's car-park.

BTW This where the back of the Southdowns Bus Station, that I got a little emotional about in a previous post, would have been.

Architecture and Photography and Bognor and Regis.

I can state with complete certainty that I know nothing of any worth about any of the subjects I've typed in the title of this posting.
But, like all self-righteous lunatics, that isn't going to stop me displaying my astonishing ignorance.

As I posted here, I have become interested in photography and spend most of my days wandering around the local area snapping anything I find interesting and many more things I have no interest in at all.
Soil for instance.
The suprising aspect of my newly discovered past time is that I truly don't care what anybody else thinks about the pictures I take which is liberating in a way I can only describe as 'heady'.

Over the past weeks I've noticed I seem to favour taking pictures of buildings and particular types of buildings.
Usually white, usually cube shaped, usually built sometime around the 1930's.
Art Deco I suppose.
There's quite a few of them around Bognor Regis and even more in the larger towns around here.
It strikes me as odd that they still seem to look 'modern', optimistic even, after around 80 years.
Most have had their Crittall Windows replaced with uPVC double glazing units but, having lived in a flat with poorly maintained Crittall Windows, I feel the owners probably did the right thing even though it removes one of the key features of the style.

Of course I've had to lay off photographing the local examples.
I might start making the owners anxious when they notice me outside taking pictures again so last week I turned my attention Bognor Regis's town centre.

As with most towns and cities the interesting bits aren't at street level, the real character is to be found from the first floor up.
Suddenly the town stops being a boring identikit shopping opportunity and begins to reveal it's history and, dare I say it, beauty.
There are some astonishing flights of fancy around Bognor.
Delicate cast-iron balconies, enamel work and leaded canopies lots of different styles from lots different eras clashing and higgledy-piggledy.
Bognor Regis, along with most towns, has lost many interesting buildings, I know, I've seen pictures of them in the local museum (don't get me started on what I like to do to the philistines who, in 1994, removed the art deco  Southdowns bus station from the face of the earth, bastards!) but I'm not obsessed with the past just interested in it.
The area around Queensway was re-developed, I'm guessing here, around the 1970's in the brutal style of the time.  I'm not using 'brutal' in a pejorative sense  just as a way of describing that distinct urban concrete, pebble dash and glass way of building that was fashionable at that time.
O.K. it's bleak and showing signs of it's age but what strikes me is how the whole area feels 'unified'.  It doesn't look like the work of a committee. It looks like the vision of one man (and it would have been a man).
Another aspect of this area that dawned on me was, with all the flats built into it, it's probably the most densely populated area of central Bognor Regis. People actually live here.

Now to a side issue of my photography and another realisation.
Using a camera it's really easy to make anywhere look like a dystopian vision of hell on earth and my first sets of pictures certainly did that.
Barbed wire, broken fences, abandoned spaces. blight and decay.
To my shame I admit it was exactly what I was trying to achieve but, not only is it unfair, it's lazy.
Finding beauty and wonder is difficult, it requires effort and understanding. It requires the ability to cast off the caustic cynicism that seems endemic in our species.
I can't see angels in the architecture yet but I'm beginning to see the places where they briefly landed.

Greetings From Bognor Regis: The Post Card.

In our corner shop there are a selection of post cards for sale.
I looked at them.
I noticed that the Bognor Regis depicted in the tiny pictures seemed to be at odds with today's, modern, Bognor Regis.

I picked a card at random (the same height as my mid-riff):

I went out to the locations on the card and photographed, from as near as I could get, today's version:

The pictures were taken with an iPod Touch using the Retro Camera app set to Fudge-Can.
The original card is a Salmon Cameracolour Post Card.
Printed in England © J. Salmon Ltd. Sevenoaks. Kent.

If you would like an electronic post card from Bognor Regis email me through my Profile page.
(The file size is 512 kb)
Or you could just down-load it.

Boffin On The Beach.

Much to my annoyance Linda insists on turning the television on at breakfast time.
Linda is obsessed by weather prediction and, despite having listened to the shipping forecast and radio weather reports, she has to see it on a computer generated map on the television.
This morning, just before the weather report, there was a short piece about a partial eclipse.
Some BBC iCandy and a Boffin were discussing the eclipse live from the beach just outside our flat.
I went down to investigate.
The iCandy had disappeared into the BBC van (in case her hair went frizzy in the drizzle no doubt) the boffin and a tele-bod remained.
'You'll be lucky to see anything this morning' was my cheery remark.
The boffin assured me his luck was very good.
I looked at the space where the blank grey sky met the blank grey sea and suggested it would have to be.
The boffin then started talking about refractive indices and I moved away slowly.

The boffin is the one in the wide brimmed hat

So, once again I failed to get myself on the tele.