The Unwonderful World of RDoF

Nah, i's not that bad really, just hard and long. See RDoF stands for the Responsible Drawdown of Forces, that's the President's Plan anyways. And that means not only Soldiers, but all the things that they use. We are turning out the lights here basically. And there are a lot of lights, if you get my meaning. We've spent the last few months planning and working out what to do with all the equipment, from computers, to trucks, to desks, and more...even pens and paper. It all has to go somewhere, the old days of driving tanks into the ocean are over.

People banty around words like "historic" and all that, but it is just work same as any other here. Doing the right thing, not just by us but by the folks that live here and will be here long after we are gone. So its been long days and late nights and all that, but then again with communications and supply and the like, its always first in last out. The hardest work is usually done right at the beginning and at the end. You'd be amazed at how much stuff acumulates over 7 years or so. Almost done though...not only with our piece of RDoF, but this whole long strange trip.

Should actually be finishing the vacation portion too, just in time to get home and then head off to Hawaii. More adventures for me and the missus.

One more note...

Has anyone else noticed the similarities of the two gents above? Hopefully our new "Doctor" is up to the task ahead of the Men In Red, not really sure who his Sonic Screwdriver is going to be...

Cheers,
g

The Sowph

Cantebury, Faversham, Battle, & Hastings (Not the same place)
Day ? I want to say Saturday

So 'ere we are roaming the south (souwph, if yer frem douwn vere, wot) and you know it's like the rest of the world, "You take the good, you take the bad..." and all that. And wander we did not knowing what we were doing, where we were going, much less when we were going to leave Ol' Blighty. Which except for the not knowing thing was actually great, but whole, "Am I AWOL?" thing kind put a dampener on things, yeah. I think it were Faversham in the AM when I finally got through to the travel people, granted they told me they didn't know a damn thing either, but I talked to a human being, who basically said, "Give me your email and I'll let you know." which seemed to turn into a lie, but I guess it could have been a mistake with my email, but again if you don't think you heard it right... repeat it back, yeah. 'Tever though, it is what it is. Turns out we still had like a week at this point but, like I said we didn't know. All we could hear is how much people wanted to get back to the UK, I guess it really is how the old song says, "Take me back to dear ol' Blighty, Take me over there, drop me ANYWHERE... Birmingham, well I don't care" (sorry me Brummies I didn't write it, yeah

So Cantebury was cool, we walked 'round and saw the sights, we got there a little late so, much was closed and all that but still cute little town. As long as you stay away from all the "Chaucer's (Fill In the Blank)" tourist traps and whatnot. We had a good Italian dinner where were the only ones in the place. And then on to Faversham home of Shepherd's Neame Brewery, makers of Spitfire (which we knew and had drank) and a lot of other good ales that we drank that night. We stayed at a Beer & Bed, how can it get any better than that right. We did 'ave to listen to some Cockney lass who thought she'd talk footy, but didn't know who managed "er teem, wot" she got on me nerves, but Jennifer took it all in stride. Might be cos she couldn't cut "froo va radies a'cen" either way as the ale flowed I got o'er it too. We had a lovely room and relaxed the best we could.

What I di'nt mention was that after our Heathrow ghost town adventure we stayed at a place called Staines. And yeah with a name like Staines we shurra known better. Not that it was 'orrible... we had a fantastic dinner of Macaroni & Cheese. The Travelogdge that we stayed at wasn't very high class, but it was a good 'nough place to watch "Doctor Who" and figure out what to do next.

Interlude Iraq: Part One


"If Someone Doesn't Do Something With That..."



Or so began the First Sergeant one day. He was pointing at a bench seat from one of the vans that someone had taken out for some reason, and for reasons unknown thought it would be okay to leave laying around for a week or two. This obviously wasn't going to go down with the 1SG, who continued. "...or I am going to throw it away." Next thing I know there it is...

Yup, leave it to the Caveman to fix us up a bench inside the ol' bunker. I have to say it has been well used and enjoyed by all of us since. The amazing thing is how it gets so dirty so fast. No wonder I feel filthy all the damn time. And clothes feel greasy an' all that. Now that we are turning everything, not quite sure what we are going to do with it. I think I am going to just try and leave it there. I know that I would be pretty happy to find it there, Hell of a lot better than hunching over in there, in hopes to get out of the sun, wind, rain, etc... you know generally shite weather, that is Iraq.



End Interlude Part One

Now remember all those History classes where they talked about the Battle of Hastings? Well they are actually two different places and no battle took place at Hastings, though according to a sign we read as we blew through town it is the "Birthplace of Television." Never knew that one, not really sure that I do now, but I did read it so...

So for a couple o' pounds we took the walking tour of the Battlefield. Fekinell, war was 'ard then, yeah. You look out across the fields and hills and bogs and creeks and lakes and brambles and all and think about charging straight at the enemy either on horseback or on foot. There were signs that said what happened where and what happened next, taking the high ground was key to it all really. Then we toured the adjoining Abbey (there had to be something to battle 'bout, right?) which was pretty cool. Part of it is tourist attraction and part is still a school, has been for years and years.

A view back towards the Abbey from the battlefield.

Now the missus and I we kinda like the ol' abbey's and their ruins. Matter o' fact when she was building and planning the new porch in the backyard, my input was the words, "ruined abbey" she did a right fantastic job and has even more ideas to continue. Quite proud of the lady, I am. "Fine job wife, i's right." Hope to see everyone there when I get back to share an ale and relax, if not before then in September for the party I suppose (and if you can't make it in September, c'mon by when'er you can, the beer's always cold.)
The insides of the Abbey.

Interlude Iraq: Part Two

A Creature (of Habit)


That is what I have become I guess, so much so that it kinda frightens me. You know I always give the missus a hard time when she can't find her keys, cos I always put mine in the same place. She doesn't, so generally she finds mine and then I have to take them from her when we get home, so that she doesn't loose them too.
But here I've only gotten worse I think. I do the same ritual every damn day ('cept "down days" back when we used to get 'em {don' worry la' they'll come again, yeah}) mainly cos the few times I've messed up the ritual, I've been ruined for the day. I get up put on my socks, pants, and t-shirt. Cross over and put on my boots, but do not tie them. Then i's off to the latrine to piss, brush teeth, and shave. Now 'eaven forbid I ever shave and then brush my teeth! I don't even think I could anymore, not without serious (maybe hypnosis) re-training. Then back to the trailer to drop off my kit and back outside to tie my boots and blouse my pants. Back into put on deodorant, take my stuff out of my cover (hat) strap on the pistol, put on the top, grab the backpack (or laundry bag, I don't like to carry both {neither does my back or neck}). Out the door, turn left (even though I should technically go right as that is the direction that the compound is {don't judge me!}) and to the office.
Things can get change throughout the day but generally I dump any old coffee out of the pot and make some for the day.
Then back home take off the blouse, drop the pistol belt, put my keys, lighter, chapstick, wallet, and watch in my cover and put it by the bed. Again this is where it all changes again (unless you can call waking up every couple of hours for whatever reason {usually discomfort} part of a routine...). Then up in the morning and do it all again.
Whatever happened to the rebel who did whatever he wanted? I need to go home I guess. No I know I do. Everyday reminds me more and more...

Oh yeah that's me early one morning up on the tower. I wanted to get the antennas down (more on RDoF later) before they got too hot and burnt my hands. It is pro'ly 'round 0630 at the latest here.

End Interlude Part Two

Me and the missus on the battlefield at Battle (not Hastings)

Special Bonus: "Farewell to the Smash Hits..."

Cheers,
g

The Last Ride of Those Guys

Part I of II
"Lips Like Sugar" (Live)

This is it, for awhile at least. Who can say when Those Guys will Ride Again? Hopefully somehow-or-other at sometime-or-other. We'll see, yeah...could be as early as September. Again a victim of the 100MB restrictions of the blog(yeah sometimes you never learn, I thought I was smarter than it and could work it out. To many days later...), so the address is below. Remember the volume may be a little wrong so be prepared to adjust (seriously once it was too quiet, once it was too loud...who knows), otherwise hope you enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/user/greg23jennifer

Cheers,
g

"There'll Be Bluebirds Over..."

"...The White Cliffs of Dover"
Day ? (We're into Free Vacation Here)

Here we are into the unknown, the unplanned, the wild and weird adventures of the happily stranded. We'd been laughing at it for days, yeah. You know the old, "surely it will be over when we have to go" bit. The old saying of "just our luck" and "back to reality" shenanigans. But here we were passing through Londontown and it was strange. We probably shouldn't have even bothered (or left Liverpool for that matter {this will be a running theme, so get used to it [Will be? Really? Cos this is only like the third time you've said it already.]}) going to the airport, but yeah we did. Now Heathrow is one of the World's busiest airports, so normally it's all people and traffic and cabs and buses and planes flying all over, but not as we blew through town. It was like '28 Days Later' or whatever, like no one, no how, nothing. There was everything but the tumbleweeds as far as ghost towns go.



Up first Dover Castle, there's part of it up there. Quite cool and pretty amazing when you think of the things that have gone down here. From way back when to World War II to I think it was 'round the '60 or so when it stopped having a full-time garrison. There are still guns that helped the boys in the air fight The Battle of Britain. Not to mention the Kings and Queens and all their rot that lived and presided here. The castle is a sprawling complex at the top of the hill it even has a moat (no water though, nor beast) and secret passages and the like. We've got tons more pictures, but to save time and space I thought I paint in broad strokes. But I do have to say it is one of the better castles that I have ever been too (Take that Nottingham, you big bloody let down you) maybe it was cos we didn't go in expecting too much (again Nottingham) so we were pleasantly surprised. I'll let the Escher-eske picture below speak for itself.



Next up were the Secret Wartime Tunnels, and we are not just talking World War II here. These tunnels were actually used during the Peninsular Wars against that ol' frog basta' Napoleon, and expanded upon over the years and years after that. The Dunkirk rescue operation was planned and controlled from these tunnels dug into the White Cliffs. There's hospitals, and kitchens, and radio rooms, all that. Even some graffiti from the 1800's by a woman. (Now what would a woman being doing down the tunnels that were a garrison for troops? Your answers on a post card, yeah.) With twists and turns, audio and flickering lights it was quite the cool place to be.


Here is one of the more obvious windows near the entrance, along with the venting. There are also windows and such in the face of the cliff, but in order to get pictures of them you'd have to be on one of the Ferries (that dock just down the cliffs) and they were full up with people getting off the island or trying to get back to ol' Blighty. (I've got some pictures of the port, and unlike the airport it was busy, busy, busy (so don't bother me {a joke for like 4-5 people there}).



Here are me and the wife, and it's actually an optical illusion, we didn't climb down to the bottom. I don't think you can. I know that when we were at the edge looking down and all, I got a little nervie. Most sane people would I think (though most prob'ly wouldn't admit it) but when you look down at the churning sea and the long way down, yeah nervie.



Call me a Romantic, or a Big Fekin Dork... but it won't hurt my feelings cos this one here is actually one of my favorites. I know I'm a big sap, but whatever I love the missus and our adventures so...

Cheers,
g

If You've Got Shitty Footy...

...Then Yer Pro'ly a Rugby Town"
Bath
Day ?
That is what I think I've learned anyway. Take Bath for instance, we happened to be there on the day of a Rugby match. They were out in droves, yeah. Packed to the fekin lid. And Bath, no footy to speak of. Now I reckon that they'd pro'ly say the same thing 'bout Liverpool, no rugby to speak of there either, but we all know about footy, yeah. There's even the Blue Noses across the Park if you are into that sort of thing. Now I won't claim to be a rugby efficiannato, don't even really care for it, tell the truth, but in Bath they live breathe and shit the stuff. At least on matchday, but I think drinking cider and rugby must go together, I mean Magner's sponsors a whole league and Bath were/are sponsored by Blackthorne or something. Like I said, what I know about rugby you could fit in a wet paper bag (that's right the bottom wouldn't even fall out it is so little) and I am sure they might be confused if they showed up in the 'Pool on matchday and saw Carlsburg, Crown Paint, Candy, and now Standard Chartered sponsored stripes, but then again they like rugby so who knows.
I would be remiss I guess if I didn't mention we were still listening to the news and seeing no planes flying, but surely they would be back up by Sunday.

Interlude: Iraq

As promised here are some pictures from around camp. What I decided to show was some pictures of the very special features that we've added to Cell Block 300.


So here is a piece of "working" art that young Moreno has done for us. You'll note it looks a little like a movie theater, and that's what we asked for. Now with a projector and a DVD or Laptop this is where we show movies some nights. We've deffo come along way from the small TV that we were watching the NFL on when we first got here. A couple of you might be able to guess at who some of the silhouettes are, you can answer in the comments if you can.


Here you can see we also Co-opted the screen for the World Cup. Awesome right. This is Spain v Germany, the crowd isn't as big as it was for the couple of USA games we had on. But you can see that Yohan and I make up an almost complete kit. It wasn't just us that would watch either we have some of the Ugandan and Sierra Leone guards come by and sit with us too. Nothing like footy to bring people together. We got the chairs and table from another unit that left them out (no seriously they left them after they refraded home, what do you think we are a bunch of thieves?)
Today we got up at 0300, and yes some of us never went to sleep (not me I am too old for that game, but props to the rest of Those Guys {more on Those Guys last ride in another post}and everyone else who did the marathon-Cheers mates and thanks {'bout time some of them did any damn work anyway}) to pack up our stuff to send home.


"Said that's alright,

The deeper it bites,

I'm One Step Closer to Home"



End Interlude

So the Missus being the Jane Austin nut that she is has been to ol' Bath before and it was alright... pretty city and all that. All hills and the water running right through it. As seen below.

But I've got to say for me, it was a little too richy bitchy snobby wobbly. That's just me though I guess. Just not really my Cup of Tea. But speaking of tea...you can see the missus pictured below having a cuppa. We went to the Jane Austin Tea Room of somesuch and she just had to have a picture of her sipping with Mr. D'Arcy over her shoulder. I think she had me take one of her as thus with every bit of tech we had that day. Good thing we didn't have the Flip, otherwise you'd have to hear her slurp and slup.


Oh yeah the kid you can see in the back is part of some Continental invasion of richy people (that pro'ly plague ol' Bath all the fekin time). Probably from the Netherlands or somesuch proud Nordic blood and money. That and they charged us for like Two full teas, I mean they gave us two full teas, but bloody Hell lass, were the two of us really going to eat three scones each?

We did find an All Vegetarian Pub though, and that wasn't half bad, better in fact. I think upon walking in we were both a little afraid that it was going to be sprouts, cucumbers, tofu, and dirt but they actually had pub grub done without the death. T''was nice, I mean they generally have more veg options Everywhere than we do in the States (you notice I didn't even mention here right) but this was nice to be able to go for it, nice to know it can be done too. But again probably only in the Richy Whitchy places. I mean it was a nice day outside and I chose to sit inside, cos of the bag of loud cunts that were sitting laughing too loud with all their shopping bags 'round 'em. Whatever though it was cool.


So above is the your truly and the missus at some fancy place that I should probably remember about, but don't. We over heard a tour guide, I know right, a "Walking Tour of Bath" with the guide talking about how some crazy old bird had a visit from the Home Office cos she'd painted her door blue. You see this semi-circle of row house is like Hoyty toyty land and everything must be wonderful and the same. "Fek tha'" I say, it's like those damn Home Association, think they can tell you what you can do with yer own property, "fek'em I own the damn house don't I?" So good for you lady, just wish you'da painted it Red.

So we weren't long in Bath, cos we still thought we was gonna fly the next day. Little did we know, yeah. That's right folks we are headed into Free Vacation. Actually it cost us quite a bit, but you have to think of it as Extra Innings, yeah free baseball and all that, yeah.

Oh and you know if you can't always see the pictures real well you can click on them and they'll open up a bit bigger. Don't know if I mentioned that or not, but I actually found out awhile ago.

Cheers,
g

On Beyond

Cardiff, Wales
Caerdydd, Cymru
Day ?

So with heavy hearts did we leave the Promised Land...(shoulda never left) and headed southerly towards the capitol and the airplanes that would take us elsewhere. Or so we thought, see things were already weird with the Icelandic volcano eruption and all that. Maybe we shouldn't have been such optimists and just called the damn airlines before we left Liverpool. But coulda, shoulda, woulda don't count for much. But next time...we'll know better. If you are given that big a sign, only a fool wouldn't take it, right? Well colour me and the missus foolish then, cos we didn't.

Not that isn't to say we didn't have a good time on our trip south, seeing some things and places that neither of us had before. But given a second chance, yeah we'd've stuck around the 'Pool a little longer and still been able to do most of the stuff that we really enjoyed. Now I don't know what people imagined with the volcano shutting down all the airports, maybe it was supposed to look like some Post-Apocalypse thing, or like dust storm here in Iraq. But we really had lovely weather, sunshine and clear skies for the most part. And this is Britain don't you know.

So we headed out to Cymru, also known as Wales. Also know to be home of the original Britains, yeah. We hit Cardiff cos its supposed to have a rift between time and space running through it and had a pretty great time. Found our favorite brewery "Brains" the Official Brewery of Wales. And learned that like places in Canada everything on every sign is written in two languages. Welsh and English, it is nice cos it shows that Wales aren't going to let anyone grind them down. The Red Dragon may seem to be sleeping, but when the time comes for it to wake up...well Englishmen beware.

First up we visited the Doctor Who exhibit. The new series chronicling the adventures of The Doctor and his companions are produced by BBC Wales so they keep it all alive in a mall. This is the one standing exhibit, there are a couple of others that travel around though. So we found a pint and went into the show.

Here's the missus with "Poor Lazlo"
And yours truly with the Daleks, "Exterminate!"

Interlude: Iraq

Weird really it seems sometimes that I am going to actually finish my tour here before I finish my Tour of Duty. Not much to report from this side of the world it is just day-in-day-out sort of doings. But while I've got your attention I thought I would say something about the Comments box that lies at the bottom of each post. I really do like getting the Comments, I really hoped that this would be an interactive thing. Where I could not only digress left and right, but also where you the people could have your say. I do check on them often, so don't feel like if you've had to catch up on a few posting at a time you can't comment on whatever you like.

I took some more pictures of 'round here and will get them up soon. There are a few more I want to take and maybe even some video. So stay tuned.

End Interlude

So here we are in front of the Big Ass fountain, yup that's water running down that thing behind us. This is all at Millennium Centre/Roald Dahl Plaza (yeah the "James & the Giant Peach" etc, guy was Welsh and I guess some kinda spy or something. Below is the Theater the inscription is in Welsh and English and didn't actually say "Bad Wolf" but, "In These Stones Horizons Sing." Oh, yeah and what you can't really tell is that the words are actually windows, pretty cool.

And I would be very remiss if I didn't take a picture in front of the Norwegian Church.



How cool is that? The church is an arts centre now but it goes way back to when Cardiff Bay had a swinging port and the old Norge salts needed a place to pray.

Wales is cool, check it out sometime. We have only scratched the surface but definitely deserves more time. And you never know you just might run into the Welsh Wonder, Mr. Tom Jones.

Cheers,
g

So, Funny Story

Picture if you will the missus and I riding in our newly rented Fiat Bravura (or some such, not a bad little car...unlike the other rental this one had a boot you could fit the world in) on our way to Anfield to the Memorial. She's driving cos I choose not to when I can (here or there) so the only thing you've got to wrap your mind around is that she's on the side I would usually be on and viceversa, right.

"We need to find somewhere to park," she says.

"Yeah, okay there's carparks about I'm sure," say I calmly and cooly (natch.) "There's one over there Five Pounds."

Its a dirt lot right with a few cars parked and a boy and a coupla girls sitting talking next to the Sharpie on cardboard sign that says something like "Park 5 Pounds (but with they symbol, yeah.) Now I'd rather give my money to the young scallie than some faceless whatever.

"Okay," says the missus hands gripped on the wheel, glint in her eye. "Do you think we can get in that way?"

"No," says I plain and simple. Its a bit of a pit sort of lot, if you get my meaning. There's a sidewalk and all that and its on the corner. Looking at the cars that are there and where the kid is sitting, mixed with the fact that I can see where it is graded on the other street. I take all this in an instant...I've already voiced my opinion when I feel the Fiat sway towards what is NOT the entrance.

Now I just had a thought, maybe I've been mishearing the missus all these years. Maybe instead of asking questions she's actually making a statement. You know, I may hear, "Do you want to...?" "Do you think...?" etc when actually she's saying "You think..." "You want to..." It would be the perfect explanation really, cos it always seems to be my fault even when I have obviously said, "No."

Not sure but its a thought, yeah.

Back to the story...

"No," I say and grip whatever I can as we swerve into what could be very, very bad.

Sure enough there's a crunch and a long deep scrape as we bump into this pit that has become this kid's carpark. As we are shaken wildly about the car I can imagine sparks flying and things falling off. A trail of parts going from the curb to wherever the car dies. The kid he jumps up, the girls giggle and he runs over.

I've gone like a ghost...pale, eyes wide, mouth hanging down, and white knuckles grasping for life. The missus, yeah she's got this wild look in her eyes that says anything between, "Wow, we're alive" to "I might've shat meself." Eyes glinting, strange deranged smile playing across her mouth. The kid slides up to the car in a cloud of dust and debris. The missus rolls (Is there another word for that now that most car windows don't actually roll down? Food for thought...feel free to post thoughts in the comments below.)

"Oh," says the young scallie. I see his look mirrors something between my terror and the missus insanity. "Yer Fekin Mad, you!"

This kid is going to go far, serious master of understatement and with the ability to suss out people with only a glance and a bit of crazy driving, he's gonna be alright.

"The las' guy who di tha'," he says sticking his head almost all the way into the car. I think he might have wanted to check and see if there was any blood or gore plastered all over the interior of the car. "He tore the 'ole undercarriage off his, yeah."

Pulled back from my near death experience I have to smile and nod at the boy. "You don't know the half of it la'." is all I can think.

No the car to my utter shock had not left the trail of flotsam and jetsom behind it. In fact there wasn't even a scratch (showing) on it. When we came back there wasn't even the puddle of vital fluid laying underneath, soaking in the ground that I expected. So yeah the Fiat Brava (whatever) good car, yeah.

"Yer fekin mad, you!" that's me wife.

Cheers,
g