Eulogy for Anna

Below is the eulogy I delivered at Anna's Celebration of Life Service on July 28th 2025

Anna – A life of faith and prayer

Anna: 1977-2025

Pretty much all of you here will have known Anna. As a mother, a daughter, a sister and a friend. She was, of course all of these things and she had a fervent desire to be the best she could in all of these things.

Anna developed a faith in God at an early age after her dad took her to church (St Giles) and explained how God loved her. Through God’s grace, she was able to have an understanding of this and felt compelled to give her life to Jesus as her Lord and Saviour. It was this faith that shaped her life into the wonderful woman we all knew and loved.

I got to know her when I was 19 and she was 18 but our story didn’t quite begin there..

I was a first year university student aged 18 in my home town, still living at home and was kind of ‘playing the field’ a bit. I do have a vivid memory though of around November / December telling my mum that I wanted to settle down and find a wife. My mum asked me where I was looking for this wife and I told her that it was in pubs and clubs (I was 18…) She looked at me with that eye-roll that women just seem to know how to do and said “you’d be better off getting back to church and looking for a wife there!” I procrastinated for a few weeks – nothing new there.. And finally plucked up the courage to get it over with and go back to church for the Christmas service at WBBC.

I remember I was sitting in the right hand side of the middle block and I glanced to my right and saw, standing somewhere near the front, a woman. It was like the old national lottery advert where the hand comes down and a ‘voice from upon high’ says “It’s you!” I *knew* in that moment that this was the woman I was going to marry. I spent the rest of that service with my stomach doing somersaults and when she turned round, the first thing I thought was “thank you God!” She was unbelievably pretty and had an amazingly kind face. I had prayed that God would give me a wife and there she was. Now all I had to do was pluck up the courage to talk to her…

That took a few months and it was our youth leader, Courtney, who introduced us with, “Mat, this is Anna. Anna this is Mat” and just walked off and left us.

Over the coming months we got to know each other and found out that we did have some things in common and we struck up a friendship. Anna was a very easy friend to have. She had my back and bailed me out of a few things on occasion. She just exuded pure faithfulness and encouragement. I know a lot of people here will have been on the receiving end of Anna’s encouragement: From sending cards, small gifts, a text at just the right time. She was so discerning and could clearly hear God’s voice.

We remained good friends for a good few months and it looked like that is where it would stay. I was pretty shy believe it or not and it took my mother, at a prayer meeting, to say to Anna “my son loves you by the way!” – She came back and told me she had done this and I was a combination of mortified, thankful and relieved. So, on February 14th 1996, I, having figured out that her family were going to IKEA, showed up at her house with a single rose. The rest is a bit of a blur, but what I do remember is that I didn’t actually ask her out. She worked out what I was there for and just said “yes” and hugged me.

The next year involved us spending a lot of time with each other and driving out to The Star, a pub in West Leake. I remember, before driving home, we’d just sit in the car talking about life and looking at the night sky.

A year later, we went on a walk in Lathkill Dale in Derbyshire. I had bought a ring, having asked Bill and Linda for their blessing to ask Anna to be my wife and sneakily getting her ring size from Linda. We had lunch by the stream and I was planning on proposing just after that, but a Muller Corner decided, upon opening, to shower me with vanilla yoghurt. I managed to scrape most off and Anna, being Anna had a load of tissues to help. So while she was still holding yoghurt covered tissues, I sank to one knee, got the ring out of my pocket and asked her if she would do me the honour of being my wife. She accepted and we finished the walk with a different status than with which we started it.

We got married 2 years later in 1999 and at this point, Anna was doing Dental Nursing for what would become Bupa in West Bridgford. Her path to this job was not without both problems and God’s miraculous hand. She had been studying to be a dental nurse while we were engaged and had then got a job at a dental practice in the meadows which, if memory serves me correctly, was gained through a placement during her college course. This practice was taken over by what can only be described as a crook (He was later convicted of defrauding the NHS). Anna was pretty much the only member of staff left as he had replaced everyone else with his own people and Anna very much was made to feel like the outsider. I remember her being in tears, praying that God would take her out of this and God, being faithful, answered in the form of the lady for whom Anna used to nanny, who was a dentist, asking if Anna wanted to be a nurse for her! Anna worked there until she got pregnant and went on maternity leave

We had our first child in April 2004 and ever since Anna was a young girl she had dreamed of having a pretty daughter that she was going to call Holly. She had prayed for this to happen for a good while and I remember one home-group (I think it was) we were at someone’s house in East Leake and Dave Smith said to Anna “God’s told me you are having a baby”. At this point, Anna didn’t know she was pregnant, for God to tell Dave this really meant so much to Anna. She knew that God had got His hand on her life. 

Holly, didn’t seem to want to sleep for the first three years of her life which left Anna pretty run down and already tired at the point at which she got pregnant with Reuben. The experts had said  - 2nd delivery is a doddle compared to the first but we wish these experts had had a word with Reuben who was a pretty large baby at 9lb 8oz and was facing up instead of down. Anna was absolutely shattered after all this and this, combined with already tired, left her pretty ill to the point that she was being physically sick. This led to a bout of health anxiety. Even in this, Anna’s default position was to give thanks and praise to God for blessing us with 2 beautiful, healthy children.

It was during this time that Hazel, incredibly kindly, offered to take Holly to her house to bake while I was at work. This allowed Anna to rest and bond with Reuben without a beautifully precocious toddler competing for her time and energy. We were both so incredibly grateful for Hazel doing this. 

When Reuben started school, Anna volunteered to read to the kids and this led to her being offered a job as a lunchtime assistant AKA dinner lady. She was incredibly good at this as she knew pretty much all of the kids from her reading to them. After a good while doing this she was asked by the school to support a child with disabilities in the classroom. Anna didn’t have to think too hard about this as she had wanted to be a children’s nurse when she was younger but alas her maths skills were not quite up to the level necessary to pursue a career in this. 

Anna always used to say to anyone that God had been so good to her to the point that He knew that her having low confidence would severely disadvantage her in an interview situation. So he just gave her jobs for which she never sought or had to interview for. The only interview she ever did was for a new Boots dental practice in Nottingham and she didn’t get it and said the interview process was horrible (This was just before Karen called her asking for Anna to nurse for her)

Anna worked at Milford as a care assistant up until her illness meant that she got to the end of herself, went to A&E and was signed off work. Even after this, she still tried to go back for four days before half term but was so tired from the anaemia that even walking to the leisure centre with the class left her feeling weak and drained. Anna loved working at Milford and was so proud of the work that the school was doing with SEN pupils, giving them dignity and helping them access a good education. For her to not be doing that was so hard for her and she spoke often about how much she missed the staff and pupils.

Many of you here will know the faith and the courage that Anna showed following her diagnosis. You will also know some of the incredibly special bible verses that kept showing up for us: Great is thy faithfulness, Your mercies are new every morning, strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow. We clung to these despite knowing that unless a miracle was to happen, then Anna would be going home much sooner than we thought she would. Every day we saw those mercies of God. Every day He brought something to us that strengthened us and gave us hope. It was never an earthly hope of ‘I hope she’ll be OK’; it was that heavenly focused hope, given to her by Jesus that if or when the end came, she was going to be safe. 

She knew where she was going and who she was going to be with. Death never scared her. She knew that where she was going there would be no more pain, no more tiredness, no more health anxiety, no more false sense of responsibility. Just pure joy, pure peace and pure communion with a heavenly father whom she had met when she was young. 

I consider my 30 year relationship with Anna to be an absolute gift from God. Yes, we had niggly arguments as all couples do but we strongly agreed on the major things like faith and family.

I miss her terribly - finding a new normal is hard. Small things hurt and sting, but above it all, I know she is safe, secure and I will see her again.

I’d like to finish by reading some lyrics of a song that has really helped me through this dark period of my life:

It is called – This is not the end

Verse 1

Each step I take I know You’re with me
Through the highs and lows
I’ll never be alone
You see the end from the beginning
I’ll never be afraid
You put fear in the grave

Chorus

This is not the end
My God will finish what He started
He is able to do what He said
His word it fulfils every promise
He is faithful

Verse 2

When it felt like it was over
You carved a way for me
You worked behind the scenes
No matter what
The world throws at me
Even through the fire
My God won’t leave my side

At the moment, I have no answers but I know that one day I will.

There is a phrase that is often used – ‘Life’s rich Tapestry’ I think this is a fantastic metaphor but I think we only see the back of it in this life.

All we see are the knots, the mess and the different colour strands going off in weird directions. Some light, some dark, some bright, some dull. We can’t conceive that this mess can be part of something good - but when we get to heaven and see Jesus, He turns the tapestry over and we see the masterpiece that He has woven through our lives.

Anna can see the other side of the tapestry now - the beautiful side. 

I know that the way Anna confronted her illness has been an inspiration to so many people. These were the dark strands going off in weird directions in her life. She now sees how it all fits together and can see the good that has come from this. 

Rottweiler Bee Eye Tea Sea Haitch!

 I wrestled with the title for this post for a while and came up with - well, what it is called. It is going to be a pretty short one today as this topic sits nicely on its own and sets the scene for future posts.

Growing up, we had two Border Collies. One of them, Ben, came from a farm in North Wales (much more on that in later posts) and the other, Jess - Who we bought from someone more local to Nottingham.

Me with Ben

Ben was a handsome dog, mainly black with a white underbelly and neck. He had massive paws and a short muzzle.

I used to walk Ben along the perimeter of the playing fields for about 15-20 minutes per day. He loved it and I enjoyed walking with him, despite his stubbornness to return to you when you called him.

On the estate, there lived a family that had kids a bit older than me - maybe four to five years older and this family owned a Rottweiler bitch. For some reason, this Rottweiler took a fervent dislike to Ben and would try and attack him. Ben, being a Border Collie, was no match for this Rottweiler and would routinely move into a submissive pose - lying on his back.

I think it may have been a Sunday morning, before church - I was walking Ben along the route I usually took when, from behind, came a black and tan blur. This blur rocketed past me and barrelled into Ben, knocking him over instantly. Ben assumed the submission pose and I noticed that it was the Rottweiler bitch again - This time it wasn't letting Ben go. She had him by the throat and I saw red, literally and metaphorically. The part of Ben's neck you can see in the picture above was bleeding...

The thing about boys aged 12 or 13 is that they often have a lot of testosterone coursing through their veins and this, coupled with seeing your dog being attacked was more than enough to suspend any sense of danger I felt for myself.

I just dived in, fists flying, raining blow upon blow to the head of the Rottweiler. This didn't have much of an effect as the dog clearly had a thick skull that seemed to render it impervious to harm - it just seemed to make it cross. It briefly let go of Ben's neck and took a bite at me, giving me a small cut on the back of my right hand, which left a scar that is still visible today.

At this point, I grabbed the Rottweiler's collar and began to twist. This, seemingly confused the Rottweiler and it stopped trying to kill Ben. I was in such a rage at this point. I kept the collar tightly twisted until I caught sight of the owner... With the Rottweiler's tongue going a slight shade of blue, I yelled at the owner to "get control of your bloody* dog or I'm gonna keep twisting!" I think the shock of the scene, my dog with blood on his neck, my hand bleeding and his dog with a tongue turning blue, may have saved me from any potential retribution as he grabbed his dog and dragged it off back home. I remember shouting after them "that bloody* thing needs a muzzle!"

After making sure Ben was alright - he was whimpering a bit, and cleaning as much blood off him as I could, I took him back home. My dad saw the state of us and, credit to him, didn't go ballistic! He, simply asked what had happened and asked if he need to go and see the owners of the Rottweiler. I said that he didn't and I'd told them to get a muzzle (See? No profanity) for it and hopefully all would be OK. 

I don't have any recollection seeing the Rottweiler after this so I assume that, in fear of having the police called for a dangerous dog, they exercised their dog somewhere else.

*My parents brought me up better than to swear but fearing for your dog's life tends to make you forget all that good training...

Product of the Estate Part 3

Whilst writing the last entry an unbidden memory came to me - Jason...

Jason was a couple of years older than me and my memories of him are pretty hazy. He looked a bit like Plug from the Bash Street Kids (of Beano fame). To 8-9-year-old Mat, he always seemed to be a bit childish and looking back I guess you'd class him as a bit educationally challenged.

The older kids tolerated Jason, and looking back, it’s clear he was trying hard to be liked by 'buying favour' with sweets etc. As a child, I was naive and it is only now, reflecting on this, that I can see it for what it is... a 'dumb kid' being taken advantage of by older kids and sometimes bullied.

The story that comes to mind about Jason was the time he brought a golf club and some golf balls to the park. We had no idea where he got these from and we didn't ask. The club looked like a low number iron of some kind and he certainly seemed to know how to use it. All was going well until one of the older kids had a go and Jason managed to not get out of the way after the older kid had raised the club on its backswing. The club was duly brought down with force right into Jason's head. There was a sickening thud and then loads of blood.

My memory is a little hazy at this point but I do remember someone running to the nearest person's home and calling an ambulance. We saw Jason after this so I guess there was no lasting damage done.

It was around this time that for some reason unknown to me, my dad decided that my brother and I should learn to fish, so he bought two fishing rods, all the equipment - lines, reels, floats, weights and hooks and we set off to a shop on the next estate to buy some bait... Maggots. I had no idea what maggots were and I was a mixture of fascinated and repulsed by them. It turns out that the shop from which we bought them, before it went out of business, was just around the corner from my current abode!

The first place we went fishing was in the brook that ran along the estate. In this brook there were a few species of fish that we hoped were desperate to be caught:

• Rainbow trout
• Chub
• Dace
• Perch
• Minnow
• Bullhead (an incredibly ugly fish that was small and you didn't want to catch it)

Alas, the only fish that was desperate to be caught was the damn Bullheads! These pesky fish were small, wriggly and a nightmare to unhook. 

I only ever caught one trout and I have a vague recollection that my dad was slightly perturbed that I threw it back. (I'm sure he was joking) The main fish we caught were chub, a lovely silver fish that looked almost iridescent if the sun caught them at the right angle.

Not me fishing in the brook

There were a few areas of the brook that we used to fish in:

Sandy Bay - This area had a deep, slow flowing section with trees that grew over the brook over the far bank, providing shade so you really couldn't see what was down there! This section opened up into a  very fast-flowing, shallow section that dog-legged round with an undercut. This section was perfect for kids with nets to catch minnows.

Stony Bay - This area had a steep, stony bank overlooking a pretty deep, straight section of the brook that was relatively fast-flowing. We used to free-line here which meant just a hook and bait on the line and you'd cast upstream and watch the bait slowly fall into the depths, upon which it would be taken and you'd reel in a pretty big chub!

Eventually, my brother and I graduated from needing to go fishing with my dad and went off on our own with very strict instructions to only fish in the brook! Do not go to the Trent! Of course we followed this instruction to the letter. Hey Dad — if you're reading this, Mum wants you to get some more milk out of the garage!

(Now he's gone - we used to occasionally break this rule. Fortunately nothing untoward happened - We did, however manage to catch other fish like barbel, gudgeon, perch and pike)

Speaking of things my parents probably shouldn’t know — confession time

I had a silver Raleigh Grifter which my parents bought me for either a birthday or Christmas present and being a young lad and, having watched BMX Bandits (1983 - so I would have been seven or eight years-old); I had always wanted a BMX - or Raleigh Burner. The Grifter was about as heavy as a planet and took considerable effort to pedal it. It had 3 gears, selected by twisting one of the handlebar grips and engaged by a Sturmey-Archer rear hub. I'm kind of hoping that all these links and technical details will somewhat soften the blow to my parents of what I'm about to reveal...

For a dare - I rode that bike down the length of the brook - all the way to the Trent... There, I said it! I'm not proud - although with the weight of the bike and the lack of gear-flexibility, it was a pretty impressive achievement.

Anyway - There will likely be a future post about cycling and those escapades so I'll leave it there!

Perspective Shift

 Whilst walking at about 0530 hrs every morning, I have been listening to a worship playlist that Anna and I compiled while she was battling cancer. There are some amazing truths in these songs and listening to them whilst walking in the dark is really helping to cement some of these truths into my head and heart.

I've noticed a perspective shift whilst walking - early on, my thinking was always focused on why has this happened to me? and this is so unfair! If God loves me he would not have put me through this hell! Now, through listening to some of these songs and reading God's word, I think I have got more of a perspective on God's heart.

I have always tended to see life as the be all and end all of existence. Sure, I know there is heaven and eternal glory with God but this has always been an abstract, esoteric understanding. Something, however, switched very recently. I was walking, crying and asking God "how come, if I'm an evil parent and You are not, You have taken my wife away from me and left me alone? If I could, I would take away all pain that my children feel..." 

Thinking this instantly brought to mind one of the more painful experiences my daughter suffered. Whilst growing up in our church - her best friend's family moved church, taking her best friend with them. This left my daughter bereft.

I was struck by the question, 'if I could have intervened, would I have done?' I pondered this for a while and thought "no - I wouldn't!" Her parents knew what they were doing and had plans for their family that I was not aware of. In the grand scheme of life, my daughter losing her best friend would not be the end of the world.

God's word says, in Proverbs 3:

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding

Also in Isaiah 55:

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. 

 I do not know the beginning from the end. My wisdom is foolishness to God. Eternity is, well, eternal. Life on earth is short.

None of this takes away the pain in my heart, nor should it. If you love greatly - you feel greatly. Nor does it remove the tripwires that you can't see - the small things that leave you flat on your face with tears blinding you and stinging your eyes. 

Shifting perspectives

But God...

Changing your perspective from the earthly to the heavenly does give comfort. Hebrews 12 says:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

I often forget that we will be with Jesus and He is at the right hand of the throne of God!

Anna is already there and that, when viewed with an eternal perspective, gives me such joy. Deep joy that comes right from the depths of the soul and allows you, compels you even, to say that "God is good! He is in control! His ways are not my ways! His thoughts are not my thoughts! He knows what is best for me!"

Product of the Estate Part 2

It’s amazing—you start writing about your life growing up on an estate, thinking it’ll be a pretty quick endeavour. You jot down a load of headings to expand on, and suddenly you find you’ve written 1,000 (ish) words and have only got halfway through the list…

So without further ado—here’s part two of Product of the Estate.

I mentioned in a previous post two friends I had, both called Gary. Well… the three of us used to go round to another “friend’s” house called Richard. I use the quotes around Richard because he was a couple of years older than us and lived next door to the Gary my parents didn’t like—we’ll call him Gary B for clarity!

Richard, like Gary B, had parents who both worked full-time and was left to fend for himself during the school holidays. This meant we could play with no adult supervision, no parents telling us “don’t do that—it’s not safe.”

This led to us doing some pretty stupid stuff, like setting things on fire in his garden. 

In fairness, Richard had a really cool garden with a tree in it that had a tree-house. This tree had a plethora of really good branches to climb onto and jump out of. 

Instead of referring to branches as “that one there” or “this one here,” we actually named the various branches from which you could jump.. I can vividly remember two of the names. 

The first, and lowest, was called the Gary Daren't Jump Branch. This was cunningly named as Gary B wouldn't jump from it. Now some of you would think that this was sensible of Gary, but this branch was only about six feet from the ground and there was an old mattress that we would land on. The mattress was still in pretty good condition, with very few springs poking through, so we thought Gary was just being a wimp...

The second branch was called the 'Bumhold'

Copilot's interpretation of the Bumhold

The Bumhold was about 12 feet above the aforementioned mattress and there was no way Gary would climb up to this branch, let alone jump off it. 

One of the jumps we did was a Jedi Jump, in which you stand on the branch, step forward off it, spin 180°, and grab hold of the branch.. A bit like Luke Skywalker in Return of the Jedi.

We spent many a happy day doing this.

In between all of this frivolity we found time to hang out on the park on the estate. This park contained a 'big slide' - This was actually a big slide... it had a wooden frame and must have been about 30 feet high, a small slide - about 10 feet high, a set of swings and a roundabout that could only be described as a vomit-inducing steel ball of hell. 

The roundabout's design was a steel sphere mounted on a pole that ran through the middle of it with a fixed circular wheel at the top which one gripped and pulled. This force rotated the sphere that had a horizontal ring attached to it with four seats. 

Fantastic speeds could be achieved with four people all pulling on the fixed ring in unison and I lost count of the number of times, after the roundabout had finally stopped, I alighted and then staggered away at a tangent to an imaginary circular plane before collapsing onto the grass groaning, feeling intense nausea and wishing for the release of death. #TrueStory

Other fun on the park was gained in summer - mainly the act of attempting to burn down the slide using a magnifying glass to focus the sun's rays to a small point. We did manage to get a bit of smoke but the slide remained resolutely upright and flambé-free!

Stingies... (wistful, nostalgic chuckle). 

Stingies was a game played with a football and five or more players. One player was in goal and the rest were outfielders whose job was to score a goal. A goal could only be scored if it was by a header or a volley. If a goal was scored without it being a header or a volley - that player took the place of the goalie. There was many an occasion in which the goalie would shield the ball - ensuring it crossed the line to force a goalie / outfielder swap. Likewise, if it was a header or a volley, and the goalie caught the ball - the goalie and outfielder swapped places. 

“Big deal,” you may say - "It's only being in goal"… Nope—you did not want to be in goal. 

At the beginning of the game everyone started on five points, and if a goal was scored with a header or a volley - this went down to four. When the last goal was scored, the poor sucker in goal had to endure 'stingies'... He had to bend over on the goal line while all the outfielders took a turn in taking a penalty kick, aiming to hit his butt. If you, as an outfielder, hit the goalies's butt - you moved forward one step and took another shot. Hence the name stingies - the poor sucker in goal could end up with a very stingy ringy*

I'll leave it there for this episode - I still have six more topics that would take up too much time to read for one post. It looks like there will be at least another 'Product of the estate' entry!

*Ringy = Ringpiece = Anus

Product of the Estate Part 1

I mentioned in the first post in this series that growing up on the estate I did was idyllic. This post will expand on that somewhat and tell of some of the exploits in which a 7-11-year-old managed to engage.

As a recap, the estate was a 'one road in, one road out' affair which meant that there was very little traffic. Very little traffic meant safety, safety meant happy mothers and happy mothers meant more freedom. Freedom to explore...

The playing field ran the entire length of the estate (about 1 KM) north to south and parallel to the brook that ran along the west length of the field, there was a shallow ditch about 6 feet wide that had hawthorn trees that had been planted on each side. These hawthorns totally encased the ditch and left a tunnel between them and this served as the perfect place in which to assume the role of a Star Wars character and run up and down with a 'clumsy and random' pretend blaster or a willow 'elegant weapon for a more civilised age' (Lightsaber). Quite what it must have looked like to 'normal people walking their dogs', I'll never know. I hope they looked at it the same way as I look at kids today running around pretending to shoot each other: With a sense of wonder at an active imagination and innocence.

Along the brook, there were a few areas in which willow trees were planted, usually in groups of three. The estate was built in the late 1950s so by 1983, these willow trees were very well established and thus provided the perfect places to build 'bases' and tree-houses. I should probably try and explain what I mean by 'bases'. A base was a secluded area to which a path had been beaten flat through the nettles and cow parsley We used to hang out in these bases, sitting on branches of the willow trees, just talking and planning our next escapade, which was usually something as innocuous as beating a path to the next base...

There were, if memory serves me correctly, three of these bases along the length of the brook:

1. Tramp's Den - Named thus because, upon beating the path to it, we found an old pair of damaged shoes. Our young minds put two and two together and concluded that a tramp must have slept there! There was no other evidence to support this claim, but the name stuck, and Tramp's Den it was. It was located on the other side of the brook from the estate, and you had to cross a bridge to get to it. A pipe ran along the underside of the bridge, and not long after establishing Tramp's Den as a base, we graduated from walking over the bridge to climbing down and hanging from the pipe with our feet about three feet from the water, shimmying to the other side. Doing this allowed the flora to grow over and hide the path, affording us a place that looked inaccessible to the outside world.
   
   
2. Tree Base - Looking back, this sounds like it should have been the first base that we named, but it wasn't - it was the 2nd... Clearly primary school English and creative writing was wasted on us 7-8-year-old boys as this has to be the most unoriginal yet perfectly descriptive name we could have come up with. Tree Base consisted of quite a few really tall willow trees that had no low branches so climbing was out of the question. This base was mainly used for hiding behind trees and shooting each other with home-made bows and arrows*
   
   
3. Sandy Bay - This was pretty much opposite Tree Base and sat right on the bank of the brook. We used to go fishing (another post) here mainly.

At a couple of points along the brook, there were pipes that crossed it. These pipes were about 18 inches in diameter and had a 45° slope leading up to a horizontal section roughly 12 feet above the surface of the brook, followed by another 45° slope down the other side.

As this was the 1980s, there were no spiky barriers to keep kids from crossing, so my friends and I used to climb up and shimmy across the pipe on our bottoms, then down the other side. One of the tests of how good your trainers were back then was the classic: “Can you walk up the 45° slope without using your hands or falling off?” Needless to say, a good number of us did, indeed, slip off the pipe.

After a few attempts, we soon graduated to walking—or even running—across the pipes and timing ourselves to see who could get across the brook the fastest. I never fell off, but a few of us had some explaining to do when we got home soaking wet and nursing a sprained ankle.

Not the pipe we walked across, but a close approximation.

Away from the brook, one of my earliest memories of growing up on the estate was playing out on the road on which our house was located. 

The house was a three-bedroom semi-detached property with an incredibly long garden and three enormous forest poplars that my granddad had planted - apparently not knowing what they were. These poplars dominated the skyline of the estate and were quite possibly the tallest trees there. 

Anyway, back to the memory of playing out on the road. My brother and I were typical young boys - noisy, boisterous and favouring games that involved a fair bit of talking loudly - OK shouting. We had two sit-on toys that we used to race up and down the road on. One of these was a tricycle and the other a plastic racing car with pedals that drove the front wheels. These vehicles could make a fair racket and I remember one day a gentleman who lived on the tiny close, situated off our road, coming round to our house to complain about the noise. 

Bear in mind this was during the day, probably just before or just after lunch. The gentleman's main gripe was that he worked nights and thus slept during the day. My brother and I were clearly disrupting his sleep.

You may remember from a previous post—about the smacked derriere I received at Play School—that my mother was fair but fiercely defensive of her family. She politely pointed out to the gentleman that it was not our fault he worked nights, and there was no way she was going to keep her boys indoors during the day.

Maybe he could invest in a pair of earplugs... Proper earplugs... Not bread.

Whether or not he did, I have no idea. My brother and I continued to play on the street with our cars.

Happy days!

Precocious at Playschool

Please forgive me, but my memories of being about 3-4 years old are a bit on the hazy side owing to the fact that it is 46 years since. Some of them have, however, coalesced into something coherent - namely that of being at playschool.

Playschool, or 'break for mothers' as it should properly be called, was held in the community centre within the estate on which I lived. I think I can still recall the layout of this (though I may have mixed up two locations). There was an entrance hall, from which you could turn left and go into a kind of lounge area that was furnished with a carpet, tables and chairs with a low ceiling. The ideal place to hold a wedding reception or something similar. Straight on from this was a sports hall with a high ceiling, in which you could (and I did) play badminton. At one end of this hall, the end near the reception area, was a kitchen, and adjacent to this was a small storage area.

The playschool was held in the sports hall area as it had a hard floor, from which glue, glitter, paper, and the inevitable vomit could easily be mopped up. I'm pretty sure that my mother used to drop me off there and then walk the 3 minutes back to our house where she could look after my 1 year-old brother or have a cup of tea and relax.

There were a number of tables that ran down one side of the hall and these tables contained a few craft things that the volunteers deemed appropriate for 3-4-year-olds.. My overarching memory of this setup was stickies...

Stickies: 
Noun:
The riveting exercise of sticking bits of coloured paper cut out into fun shapes and the 'herpes of the craft world' (glitter) onto a sheet of garishly coloured cardboard; like appliqué for idiots.. 

Image of the most dull and pointless craft exercise known to man...

As you may be able to glean from this definition, I was not overly enamoured with 'doing stickies'

WHACK! - Yes...I got a smack at playschool... No names will be mentioned because a) I have no idea who gave me the smack (My mother would know - fortunately she has no idea how to comment on a blog), and b) in this ridiculous age, I would not want to get the lovely volunteer into any trouble (she's probably dead now though but I wouldn't want to get her family into trouble...)

Apparently, I got the smack for standing up, folding my arms, pouting and saying "Stickies, stickies, stickies! I hate doing stickies! It's all we ever do!" When my mother picked me up from playschool that day I was a little upset / subdued and my mother asked me what was wrong. This set 3-4 year-old Mat blubbing again whereupon I told her that I had received a smack! "Where did you get the smack Matthew?" asked my mother. Picture the scene: 3-4-year-old crying in greater and greater intensity expecting to get into more trouble for getting into trouble (another blog post perhaps..) to the point of wailing now... "In the kitchen!" came my wailed, yet innocent reply. I'm not sure if my mother laughed at this - she certainly laughs when she retells this story though, so I imagine she did. Apparently the answer she was looking for related to a location on my body rather than a location in space.

My derriere was the bodily location, and I genuinely cannot remember how hard it was - Enough to make me cry though.

My mother can be quite a fierce defender of the weak and powerless; it is one of her amazing strengths. I think I have this right that she gave the smacker a piece of her mind and my derriere was safe from playschool smackage for the time being.

After this, my mother likely debating whether or not to send me back, was taken to one side by a lovely lady. I believe her name was Joan. She told my mother that I was bored as I had quite an active mind and was just not being stimulated enough by doing the stickies. Her suggestion, which she enacted, was to bring some screwdrivers (probably not allowed now) and some old mechanical clocks to playschool for me to take to pieces. I remember loving this and really getting quite into taking them to bits even if, when putting them back together, I had a few spare screws left over.. I don't think I was cut out to be an engineer but finding out how things like clocks worked was incredibly interesting to me. I think I still have some of that inquisitiveness today although I rein it in somewhat as I have very strong recollection of the leftover screws...

My life!

 I've been thinking about doing this for a while now.. Writing a blog series about my life, a kind of memoir if you will. Putting it like that sounds really pretentious and I don't think I am.

I'll start with some facts: I was born in April 1976 just before the 'hot one' which possibly explains why I hate the cold and feel like i was born on the wrong continent. I lived and grew up on a small estate to the south of Nottingham. This estate had playing fields that ran the length if it and a brook bordered the playing fields on the other side. Growing up here was idyllic, summer holidays playing on the fields, pretending we were Star Wars characters (i was clearly Luke) I remember we used to whack paths through bracken and dog weed with willow branches that we snapped of trees that were growing by the brook. I'm pretty sure that we did more for weed control than Nottingham City Council did.

I had two main friends on the estate, both were called Gary. One had a sister called Vicky and the other a sister called Lindsey. My parent's liked one of them and not the other as they believed the other to be a potential bad influence citing a seeming lack of parental responsibility. Both of his parents worked full-time and he was effectively a latchkey kid with maturity beyond his years forced upon him. At age 8 it was like having a friend that was 16.. He had access to his parent's video collection and it was this video collection that made me realise that I did not like horror movies.

The nearest school to me was the primary school in a neighbouring estate that was about a 5 minute walk from my house across the brook. I did not go to this school.... I went to a Church of England school just to the south of Nottingham city; a 10 minute walk to the bus stop and a 5-10 minute bus journey away. No one else from my estate went to this school but as the other school was burnt down twice; I believe my Christian parents made the right choice. 

I'm still thinking how to write this - I don't think I'll go chronological (too hard and requires more planning) I think I'll go 'Theme-Centred' and cover topics like school, church, childhood teens, moving house, girlfriends, partying, driving etc in later posts. I'm also unsure what frequency to do this.

Later posts will be about my life with Anna who died this year on June 12th after a battle with cervical cancer. It was one hell of a fight and she fought like a true warrior of God. People asked 'why you'; she answered 'why not me'

Anna on Oct 27th Just before her diagnosis

I miss her terribly but know with certainty that because of both of our faith in Jesus, we will see each other again!

This blog is going to be mainly written for our kids so they can have a memory of who we were before they blew onto the scene like a hurricane that shook our world and knocked a lot of the rough edges off us both.

More to follow.............

Crete - Day 8 - The journey home.

You know that you've had a really good holiday when you are very sad to leave and you realise that you are going to miss the people who became part of your life for a week.

It is so sad to see how the fear of COVID-19 has negatively impacted the tourist economy here. There have been so few deaths but such draconian measures implemented! Hopefully the post-mortem will be done and government heads will roll! Incompetent donkeys!!

I have to fill in a passenger locator form for coming back to the UK. Compared to the Greek version the UK one looks like a typical UK government IT project. Crap and not fit for purpose. An example.. We are travelling as a family and I can put my kids on the form but not my wife... We're all travelling on the same tickets, same flight, same eventual destination etc.. Go figure!

The Greek one, easy! My details, passport number etc, flight details, hotel details and I just had to add Anna and the kids to the same form! Easy! 

We had a leisurely 'get ready and have breakfast' and then got packed up and handed in the room keys for the kids room. The message that we could have our room for the day had survived the change of reception staff so I stashed the important documents in the safe and headed out for coffee!

After this, we walked out to do some souvenir shopping. 

Reuben bought a t-shirt that he could have bought at home (for more money) and a few other small Greek souvenirs. Holly bought a lovely olive wood bowl which I think is exquisite; beautifully made. 

After this seemingly never-ending shopping trip, we found ourselves in the harbour area where we sat and baked in the shade (it was about 1 pm at this point.) Holly and Reuben decided to go off and price up some baseball caps for Reuben to possibly buy; alas, the one he liked was too expensive for him! 

At about 3 pm, we decided that we could do with some food as we would be landing at 12.05 am Saturday morning. We finally succombed to the "hello family! You want to eat?" and stepped into one of the restaurants bordering the coastline. The food was amazing! Anna, Holly and I all had gyros, pork or chicken with salad, pita and some fries. On the street the food would be wrapped in the pita but at the restaurant, it was all on plate with tzatziki! Absolutely nostimó (delicious).

We had a really good chat with the proprietor, a buxom Greek lady who was probably about 7 years younger than us. She had two children, 9 and 7 years old respectively. She offered her view on all this covid nonsense (in fairness, we did ask her how badly it had affected her trade) and it was pretty much identical to mine, 'a lot of fuss over a bad flu that, in Greece is hardly killing anyone and those it does are generally pretty ill anyway. 

After paying for the meal we departed the restaurant and headed back to the hotel for a shower and for me to sextuple-check all of my necessary documentation to allow me back into England. For some reason, I always seem to be totally task-focused on getting back home to the point that I really do not enjoy the journey. I'm usually semi-justified in this as proven today when waiting for the taxi back to the airport from the hotel. I saw a grey Mercedes turn right down the road than the hotel was on about 5-10 minutes before we were due to be picked up. I thought to myself "I bet that's our taxi" but waited... Nothing... I stood on the corner looking for other taxis but none were for us. Eventually I acquiesced to my nagging doubts and sent Reuben off on a mission to see it the taxi was an the back of the hotel. He got about 5 yards down the road and said "the grey Mercedes is coming back up. It was our taxi!

The ride to the airport was smooth and scenic and after half of the journey being in silence, we asked the driver about 'the island on the right. We could not shut him up after this. He was talking about broken government promises to expand the airport capacity on Crete, but it was all hot air and empty words! I guess politicians are liars the world over! 

Check-in at foreign airports is always a stressful time for me as most of the officials seem to be bored, in a hurry and expressionless; this was even more so with masks on, making their 'snapped' instructions so much more difficult to fathom. We eventually made our way through and snaked inexorably to the departure gate... B9... 

We settled down here and waited until the flight was ready to board. The time dragged but finally we made it onto the plane and took off heading into the bad weather we had left behind.. 

There's nothing like a stormy August day to make you want to jet off to get some sunshine....... 

Crete - Day 7 - Culture

Well this is it.. The last full day before we fly back to, by the looks of it, a bloody cold and wet England..

The weather today did not disappoint again! Beautiful clear skies and 30°C. The humidity was a bit higher though which made it feel stupidly hot! It reminded me of Southern Italy where the temperature hit 40°C.. Stifling! The heat seemed to be bouncing right off the pavement and rebounding into my legs!

Anna had been looking at trip advisor and found an open air museum to Cretan life. 

A family had started to build the museum in 1986 and had kept it quiet from friends and extended family for fear of being thought of as crazy. They had a vision of telling people about authentic Cretan life back from the turn of the 19th century and onwards. I found it fascinating!

There lady who worked there had been there for 21 years and was incredibly knowledgeable and helpful! 

After spending a couple of hours here we noticed a gate to the beach and enquired about the cost of parasol hire. It was very good and the beach looked great so we camped out here until 5pm, at which time we packed up and headed back to the hotel for a shower followed by a drink at the hotel bar and dinner. 

As we walked past reception, the lady who checked us in and dealt with the first night shenanigans, confirmed our taxi and said "to thank you for being such a nice family and to say sorry for the inconvenience on the first night - we could have the room until the taxi arrived" 

I am genuinely going to miss this place, the hotel and the staff have been absolutely fantastic. From Denda takin the mickey out of my sunburnt forehead to the guy without a name badge who served me coffee every morning with a smile, remembered what I wanted and poured it as soon as he saw me. Yep! I'm definitely going to miss this place! Great people and great weather! 

Crete - Day 6 - Short and sweet

... Like the wine I have just drunk... Except for the short bit...

It was a fair bit of the rest of the wine I bought yesterday. 

Blah blah blah... Woke up etc.. Perfect shower... Great breakfast... 

Kids went parasailing.. 

(they are there, promise)

They loved it 

Anna went in the boat that was towing them. 

Then we went to the same beach as on day 2!

It was really hot but due to the more expensive suncream, no one got burnt! Reuben looks like one of the locals! 

After this, we walked back to hotel and we had dinner followed by some local beer and wine in our room! 

Heaven! 

No idea what to do tomorrow... 

Crete - Day 5 - Throwing Shade

Actually a better title for this would be 'seeking shade' for a start it would be accurate! 

I ended up waking at 7am again, it is honestly like I have some built-in alarm. I looked out of the window and remarked for the fifth day in a row "crikey! It's sunny!" another glorious day with not a cloud in the sky. 

I believe that I have finally mastered the shower! You just have to turn the water on to about half pressure and wait for about 30 seconds. Bliss! 

After Anna and I had showered, separately (we are social distancing), I waited to see if there was any signs of life from the kids' room.. Not to smegging peep! This Greek air is really making them sleep in. Or maybe it could be the 11pm bed times... 

Anyway, suffice it to say, I had to knock on their door for about a minute until they made a bleary-eyed appearance. 

We got ready and went down to breakfast which was, as usual, nostimó! 

After breakfast, we decided to not break with tradition and go for a coffee across the road it was just as delicious as ever! Thank goodness some things never change! 

While I was finishing my espresso, Anna went to book a parasailing excursion for the kids. While trying to make herself understood because of the GCD - government control device (mask) the lady serving her said to "take off your mask, there is perspex between us! 666 used to be the bad number.. Now its 2020" I thought that was quite telling from someone who works in the tourist industry! Quite how they are staying afloat in this 'fear porn' climate is beyond me! 

After booking the trip, which includes transfers to the area, we went back to the hotel room to read until it was time to walk the 100m to the bus stop for the Rural Crete Experience trip. 

Wow! Totally wow! They totally undersold this! It was 5 hours of non stop fun and sightseeing... Actually I'm lying, it wasn't non stop! We stopped three or four times. 

The first stop was a monastery right up on a mountain with some spectacular views of the valley 

And of the actual monastery 

The second stop was an olive oil producer which was absolutely fascinating. Straight after the olive oil producer, we went on a tour of an incredibly old town that was dying out but refused to succumb to commercialisation. 

This was absolutely stunning. It used to be, earlier in the 20th century, a real centre of commerce and produced many different goods ranging from cigarettes to cartwheels! Apparently the population is now 150, mostly old who get visited in the holidays by their younger relatives. 

After this we pressed on and stopped off at a taverna. I had a local beer, Anna and Holly had an ice-cream and Reuben had a crepe... It was freakin' massive! There was possibly some food envy occurring.. 

On the way back, we stopped off to take some photos of a dam than was completed in 2012.. The resultant lake / reservoir is 3km long, 55m deep at its deepest part and typically holds 30 million litres of water. 

If you look closely, you can see part of the village that was submerged (in winter, only the roofs are visible) 

When we got dropped off after the tour, we went back to the hotel, showered and had dinner. 

We then went out to the beach where the kids had a night swim while I sat on the beach and wrote this whilst drinking some local wine, it's a bit sweet for my liking but delicious nonetheless (no idou huv srtang ti is! Hic.) 

Right-oh! Reading time and mroe wnie! 

Crete - Day 4 - Κακό αντηλιακό

I think that title sums up today...

But that's the spoiler! 

I woke up early today, 6.30 am and lay in bed waiting for my alarm to go off.. Holly had tried get me to commit to a 'get up time'; I swear that girl is a nazi she would certainly pass for Aryan... So I complied without really thinking and said 7 am.. I needn't have worried, both of them slept through their alarm...

Today literally was a carbon copy of yesterday, got up, showered, dressed, breakfast, got ready to go out and went to that amazing coffee shop across the road! (hint, we'll be going there tomorrow too!) 

This is where it changed! Instead of turning right out of the hotel, we turned left! We really know how to have fun! 

I had read that there was a beach this way so thought we'd take a slow walk to try and find it. 

On the way, we noticed a sign that was advertising a ride around the small villages that would give us a glance into Cretan life! At €80 it looks expensive but then it is 5 hours and does look quite long.

We persisted on and after about 1/4 of a mile came to a supermarket from which we bought some water. 31°C certainly makes you appreciate chilled water!

We eventually found a beach underneath a taverna, paid the €8 to hire a parasol and 2 sun loungers and hit the waves! The sea was lovely and warm and so clear! For the first time in many years, I actually enjoyed swimming in the sea. 

I swam for about an hour or so and got out, dried off in about 5 minutes and retired to my sun lounger to carry on with the PAT. I have to say the book is certainly picking up the pace and is really enjoyable. 

At about 5pm, we packed up and, after noticing than Anna looked a little sunburnt, stopped off at the supermarket for some nivea suncream. 

This choice was confirmed as good after Reuben had a shower and looked rather sunburnt too! Only I seemed to escape it (apart from the previous days roasting which is fading nicely after me wearing my baseball cap all day, the right way round this time! 

After dinner, lamb, turkey, fish, stuffed courgette, mussels, cheese and fruit, we set off on a jaunt over to the harbour. 

Before we went I loaded up Google translate and came up with this:

Écho idi fáei efcharistó which should mean I have already eaten thank you! Now either the Greeks are just incredibly polite and were just humouring me or my Greek was passable.. Or a bit of both!

We got to the harbour and the kids played cards 

And Anna and I enjoyed the view 

When we are done here, we are going to buy a bottle of local red, retire to the beach and drink! 

Crete - Day 3 - Lazy Children

Slept like a baby last night... No... Wait... That's not right; I didn't wake up every hour, screaming demanding boobs! Ended up waking at 7 am and sleepily ambled to the shower armed with the knowledge that I was now 'master of the shower' and would not suffer the shock of freezing water again... Wrong.... I got the small hand-held shower nice and warm and pulled out the switch to engage the large overhead outlet.. There can't be much pipe distance between the small outlet and the large one but it was like someone had replaced the pipe with a liquid nitrogen-cooled tank! I was hit with a frigid blast of water that woke me up with the efficiency of an angry German.

After zis rude avakening, I got dressed and waited... Firstly for Anna to get up and have a shower, which she duly did and then for the kids to show some semblance of movement! 

An hour later and still nothing.. So I knocked on their door for about 5 minutes (well it's seemed like 5 minutes - was probably a minute at best). Eventually, Holly appeared at the door looking like the bride of Frankenstein, hair everywhere and a complexion that a leper would balk at! So this is what teenagers look like before they've made themselves look presentable ;).. I exaggerate, she just looked sleepy.. (is that better Holly? Please don't kill me!). Apparently she reads this which probably doubles my audience. 

Anyway, ripping on Holly aside (Reuben looked just as bad) we finally made it down to breakfast which was freakin' amazing! Most things the same as yesterday but with some small changes like bacon. I did my usual, had a continental, meat and cheese, followed by fried egg, mushrooms etc and then some Greek yoghurt and, this time honey! Absolutely amazing. A couple of coffees later we returned to our rooms and headed out across the road for a... coffee....

(Yay - a photo by Mat) 

Oh... My... Goodness... That coffee was nóstimo! (hopefully Greek for delicious if not, I'm dead) I'll definitely be going back there tomorrow.

After this we skipped back to the room, caffeine you see, and packed up with a view to going to the beach! 

We set off and walked down Hersonissos main street and over to the harbour. We had heard that there was a lovely beach over there but there must be a thing called subjectivity because we couldn't really see one.

(view of the harbour) 

We carried on walking around a headland but alas just more of the beach bars and hotels. You clearly need to get well away from the towns to get to a large sandy beach. 

We walked a little further and eventually the hotels gave way to smaller tavernas that had sections of good beach. We paid the €7.5 for a pair of sun loungers and parasol and I sat down with a 'post apocalyptical thriller - PAT' (still waiting for John Dolan's next offering - I'm sadly up to date! Shameless plug time but seriously, go onto Amazon and look for 'Everyone Burns by John Dolan and go from there! Beautifully written with some amazing dark humour and sublime character development) the PAT was slow going to start with but seems to be ramping up a bit now. Should be a good long read!

The kids and Anna all played in the sea and had an absolutely amazing time! 

After a good 5 hours here we took a slow walk back to the hotel to shower and cool off before dinner. 

Dinner was pork belly, chicken, fish and Mediterranean veggies in a lovely tomato sauce. Thoroughly delicious! 

Completely satisfied, we retired to the sun loungers by the sea by the hotel and Reuben took a dusk swim! 

Anna has just showed up with some water and a good old cup of tea so I'm going to sign off now! Καληνυχτα! 

Crete Day 2 - Sun and SURRENDER

Why is it that the first night of a holiday, despite you being totally 'cream crackered'; you never sleep!? Well this holiday was definitely no different except maybe that a bit of stress was added in to the equation. I didn't think they would throw us out of the hotel but your mind can play tricks on you when you're tired. 

Remember how I said that it was dark when we arrived at the hotel well that photo I posted for day 1 was taken on day 2, today. After I'd picked my jaw up off the floor. 

Anyway, I "woke up" at 7 am and had a quick shower. I always end up being the sacrificial idiot with these things.. The shower head was massive and was one of those 'directly over your head' jobbies of which, when activated, there is no escape.. So you see my problem right (apart from the fact that I am wuss who's not mad keen on cold water)? Yup.. Which way do I turn the handle after pulling it out? I'll leave it in the middle, can't be too bad. It was cold... And stayed pretty cold. Now at this point you are stuck. How long do you give it to warm up or do you try and force the issue by turning it and possibly scalding yourself.. I waited, gasping a bit with cold, for about 20 seconds; surely enough time for it to have made up its mind. I eventually summoned the courage and turned the handle anticlockwise.. Nope, colder! OK (please let the shower be working) clockwise... A glimmer of hope.. A bit of heat.. Slowly does it Mat.. You wouldn't want to burn. Ahhhhh perfect.. 

So yeah, that was the shower! 

Get dressed and headed down for breakfast. The serving area was split into 2 sections, cooked and continental, both delicious. Because of all the COVID-19 nonsense it was a 'we serve you' affair which still worked out very well! I had scrambled eggs, sausage slices, mushrooms, peppers and onions followed by ham, cheese, tomatoes and cucumber followed by Greek yoghurt and apricot! Gotta say, Greek yoghurt in Greece is really something else! 

After breakfast we decided to wander up to the roof to see what the pool was like. It was small but perfectly formed! A lovely rectangle of blueness! We lounged about there for a while and I watched the clock.. 11am.. D-day as it were.. Had the hotel heard from the intermediary supplier? I walked down with trepidation, would this holiday turn bad.. Would my ugly mug end up in the Daily Heil, I should practice my 'Daily Mail Sad Face'™. No... Wait... Sensible people speak to their travel agents, not the press. Thank goodness for being normal! 

I got down to reception and they had still not heard either.. Oh well a stay of execution.. 

I celebrated this by going out to get some cold water from the supermarket. 

I took the water up to the pool where I had left Anna and the kids and saw a family that asked if we had a spare sun lounger. Their accent was so hard to place. I was thinking Eastern European, maybe Croatia or something.. That was until I heard their kids in the pool, speaking English. It was when the kids started saying "SURRENDER, SURRENDER, SURRENDER" than the penny dropped... They were clearly French! 

At about midday to 1pm, you know, the hottest part of the day, mad dogs and Englishman and all that.. We decided to go on a little explore. We walked out of the hotel and began to climb up towards Old Hersonissos, much quieter and up in the hills. 

We stopped off on the way for a cold drink at a lovely bar! The owner was really friendly and the waiter was just pure class very entertaining. 

After spending about 45 minutes there we hit the road again and finally made it to Old Hersonissos.

What a gorgeous old town! It had really managed to retain its character. 

(photo courtesy of Holly) 

After this we walked back down to the touristy part of Hersonissos and back to the hotel for dinner! Dinner was lovely, I had a lamb burger (no bun) and a load of pork with apple and celery and an excellent Greek salad. 

One of the upsides of today is that I did eventually get an email from Trailfinders saying that they were urgently pushing the supplier to sort out the small problem of the cancellation. I forwarded this to hotel management and pretty soon after, the hotel emailed me to say that all was well and that the booking was reactivated! This means that we won't be evicted (unless Anna gets drunk* and goes streaking. 

After dinner was done, we went and sat on the beach again and watched the sun set (kinda.. We're facing north) 

We're now planning what to do tomorrow! 

I got a bit sunburnt despite 'chasing the damn shade all day! It's not too bad though, nothing that a cool shower and a good night's sleep won't cure! 

*That will never happen! 

Crete Day 1 - Fun and Farce.

There's nothing like a stormy August day to make you want to jet off to get some sunshine.. So that's what we've done!

My dad arrived at 9 am and, after Mat going through his checklist about 200 times, we departed for the cowshed.. Sorry, East Midlands Airport (EMA according to the boarding passes.)

In true Cooke tradition, we arrived far too early, but as we had already checked in, we checked in again just to make sure.. 

Had a pretty easy ride through passport control although Holly did get her bag searched and checked for drugs... 

After waiting around for about 2 hours, we boarded the plane which thundered down the runway, fighting a bit of a blustery cross wind. Not the smoothest takeoff I have experienced but we got up into the big blue. 

Flight was very uneventful with no turbulence and, after what seemed like a few minutes, the pilot announced that we were 'over Brussels' I resisted the urge to spit out of the the window.

We watched the sunset from the aircraft and were amazed at the beauty of it! As we were travelling sort of south south east at this point, it set ridiculously quickly 

(photo credit to Holly) 

We touched down rather brutally in Heraklion and came to a stop at the terminal, disembarked and proceeded through passport control without any issues. 

This is where it all got interesting... 

We located the desk from which we were to get the taxi and... Well I don't speak Greek but when the guy has to make 3 phone calls and is scratching his head; you know there is a bit of a problem.. 

Turns out the flight that was on the transfer ticket was LS709 and was due to land at 1900 hrs.. Now I checked with Trailfinders after noticing a discrepancy with the arrival times and they said that the taxi firm monitored flights (I hadn't noticed the flight number at this point) and, if the flight was delayed, they would adjust accordingly. LS709 wasn't delayed... Nor was LS625, the flight we were on..

The taxi firm were awesome though and we got a fantastic driver in a rather posh, mahoosive Mercedes who sped us, literally, to the hotel.. His son is coming to Sunderland this October to study, l pointed out that he should pack a lot of warm clothes as the North East of England is freezing in winter... And a bit hit and miss in summer too! 

If I thought that the taxi was a bit of a debacle, the hotel was a good old British farce..

The lady at the hotel check-in desk was incredibly helpful but it was pretty obvious that there was a problem... 

We booked the holiday through Trailfinders on February 17th and it turns out they book the hotel through an intermediary supplier who had inexplicably cancelled the room on April 2nd... I suspect because of COVID-19.. 

Fortunately the hotel had rooms and they found a 2 rooms next to each other. 

I phoned Trailfinders and they said that they would sort out the problem with the intermediary supplier the following morning. 

The room we are in is very nice with a balcony and a view of the mountains. 

(photo credit to Holly) 

Although we only found out about the mountains the following day as it was dark when we arrived. 

The hotel restaurant had closed by the time we had arrived so we dumped the cases in our respective rooms and headed out into the night to see what we could find to eat in Hersonissos. As none of us really felt like a big meal, we ended up finding a supermarket and got some cold meats, cheeses and olives. We wandered back to the hotel and sat on the beach and had a bit of a picnic.

After this it was back to the hotel rooms and bed. Thank goodness for air conditioning...