Secret Service

I'm not sure this blog will ever see the light of day. You see, it may have to remain secret for a long time. Hushed up if you will, on the QT and definitely, definitely off the record.

3 March 2016

Why? Well we have decided to make a surprise trip back home to attend a family celebration and catch up with people we haven't seen for a few years. Not a problem, you might think, but in the digital age where everything is shared, liked and commented upon its not that easy. It only takes the slip of a button and, hey presto, it's out there. Horse bolted. Gate unlocked. Even writing these words is a huge risk. What happens if I forget to save it as a draft and accidentally publish it? Blast, I've jinxed myself just by admitting there is a possibility I could get it wrong. What happens if something gets arsed-up, as they say in tech savvy circles, and all my drafts are published without me knowing? 

That's just the half of it. My parents are keeping an eye on our UK bank statements. It would only take the use of the wrong credit card when booking something innocent like hotels or flights for awkward questions to be asked. 

"There's an odd charge on your credit card"

"Really?"

"Yes it's for a hotel in London?"

"Oh!"

"Your card must've been cloned"

"I guess so......"

Then I would have to go through the charade of cancelling my credit card, and rebooking everything. You see it's a huge gamble, and a reminder why I would make a rubbish spy. I'm sure James Bond or Borne would take it all in their stride but I'm a nervous wreck.....

4 June 2016

We're now five weeks out and so far, so good. All booked and so far the cover is not blown. I nearly slipped up a few days ago. Our YHA membership cards had arrived in the post to my parents' house, courtesy of the Royal Mail redirect service, and my Dad offered to send them to us. "No, it's ok we'll pick them up when.....errr yes please that'd be great". Disaster averted. I think. To blow it now would be a real shame.....

24 June 2016

What the hell is going on in the UK? Shit, I hope the borders don't close before we get there.....

2 July 2016

We've just uncovered a problem. Plug adapters. Which ones do we need? We have a mixture of UK and NZ plugs and will be calling at, as well as the UK, France and the US. The idea was to travel light to leave enough room for new clothes. At this rate we'll have a bag full of plugs.....

7 July 2016

I had a bit of a wobble tonight. Surely lying to your parents is a bad thing? Technically I haven't lied, I've just not told the whole truth. But it amounts to the same thing doesn't it? And then there is the fact that by not telling them in advance I'm denying them the opportunity to get excited by our visit, however brief it is going to be. And what if they are not at home when we pop by? 12,000 miles is a long way to go to turn around. Hhhmmm.

8 July 2016

Last day in work for nearly three weeks and it's the usual hectic finish - trying to get enough done so the wheels don't come off whilst we're away. And a lovely surprise from admin - a going away cake! How thoughtful and a lovely gesture. If we were in the UK I would be concerned that it was to celebrate three weeks without us....but Kiwis are so lovely that I know that won't be the reason.....

9 July 2016

I'm definitely going to hell. As we're going to be 'offline' for a week I thought I'd ring. 

"Are you up to much this weekend?" my Mam asked

"No, not really - quiet week at home"

Surely lying to your mother is one of those 'straight to hell' moments. Little did she know - because I had deliberately not told her - was that within 12 hours we'd be travelling 12,000 miles, towards the northern hemisphere.

10 July 2016

Well, we've finally arrived back in Europe. Which is more than can be said for our bags - they went missing in San Fransisco during the transit. "Oh, this happens a lot" said the woman from Air France and with a typically Gaelic shrug, filled in a claim form,  "You should get them back....maybe 48 hours?". I don't know much about air travel logistics, but if bags go missing a lot then perhaps the system is not working properly? Anyway, we were far too tired and smelly to put up much of a fight, and it wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway. 

Begrudgingly, we got into a taxi and headed into the city. "No bags?", the taxi driver asked......and immediately wished he hadn't!

Jesus, I'd forgotten how mad driving is in Paris. There are cars everywhere and seem to arrive from every angle and at high speed. If they drive like this in New Zealand there would be carnage. Well more carnage than there already is! The taxi driver was certainly taking no prisoners - taking the Luc Besson movie far too much to heart - we were just happy to get to the hotel in one piece.....

11 July 2016 3am

Jet lag is a bitch. Wide awake but still no bags.

11 July 2016 5am

Still wide awake but good news! That missing bags have arrived in Charles De Gaulle so presumably we'll get them this afternoon. Hurrah for French efficiency!

11 July 2016 5pm

We've had a great day, wandering the streets of Paris, sipping coffee in quiet back streets, oh and shopping. The need for clean undies far outweighing the need to see the Eiffel Tour. But no bags! Surely it can't take 12 hours to deliver two bags from an airport that is less than 20km away? Time to ring the helpline....

11 July 2016 7pm

Helpline? I think the first thing a helpline should do is actually be helpful! Air France don't have a clue when our bags will be delivered, probably before we leave for London in three days time but they can't guarantee it? And no, we can't go and collect them in person. Sarah has just accused Air France of robbing our bags - not far from the truth. I think it's because we're not French, although I've been told that's slightly racist. Racist or not, two days in Paris and I'm beginning to understand why Brexit might not be a bad idea!

12 July 2016

Took a train to Versailles and joined the rest of the tourist population. It was awful, mostly anyway, as we shuffled around a stately home in searing heat. Luckily we're not claustrophobic. It was a relief to get out into the gardens and enjoy the space....helped by quaffing a bottle of Bordeaux over lunch! Hopefully our bags will arrive tonight.

UPDATE: OUR BAGS HAVE FINALLY ARRIVED!! They were delivered by courier at 10:30pm. Stop the clock...... It has only taken Air France 41 hours to deliver our bags the 20km from the airport. Absolute shower.

13 July 2016 11:30pm

It wouldn't be correct to say it was the only reason we made the trip, but it certainly helped justify the expense..... just back from the Bruce Springsteen concert! I don't know how he does it - three and a half hours without a break! It was fantastic and great to see him in a (relatively) small venue. Now I have to try and get to sleep and be fresh enough to tomorrow to catch an early train to London and our first of two surprise visits.........

14 July 2016

Back on English soil for the first time in nearly two years and what a strange feeling it is. Sights that look familiar, but seem out of place at the same time, speed past the train carriage window. How can I be feeling apprehensive, nervous and exhausted at the same time?

After checking into our accommodation, we had a quick shopping trip in Basingstoke town centre - desperately scanning the crowds to make sure we didn't accidentally bump into anyone we know. Then, at 6pm, we decided to casually walk to visit our relations.......

They were chatting to a neighbour in the street as we approached. "Hi Cathy!"......

What a great reaction! Sarah's sister was speechless, her husband aghast and we got huge bear hugs from our nephew. 

Mission accomplished.

17 July 2016

Decided it was time to speak to my parents so called early this morning. "Hi, have you got any plans this week?" I asked.

"No, nothing much" came the response

"Good, can we pop by for a visit then?" I asked.

Laughter was not quite the response I was expecting then I realised that they thought I was joking. 

"No, seriously, we're in the UK so can we come up?"

Confusion soon gave way to smiles and travel plans were agreed. We'd arrive back in Northumberland at 11:10

"We'll explain everything tomorrow. Promise!"

Fifteen Minutes

Was it Andy Warhol or Kirsty MacColl who said something poignant about fame? No, I can't remember either. It's surprising how easy it is to get those two mixed up.

Anyway, whatever it was, I rather suspect that my fifteen minutes has been and gone. Did I enjoy it? Well it was a nice surprise - a bit like putting on a coat you haven't worn for a while and finding a lolly in the pocket. Unsucked obviously.

What am I talking about? Well, unbeknownst to me, the Rotorua Half Marathon organisers had chosen to use a photograph of me from last year's race as the promotional picture for the 2016 event. I know - mad.

I first became aware when Sarah showed me her Facebook feed and there I was, beaming from ear to ear in my bright orange Stirling Sport Half Marathon vest (it's really comfortable - honest!) . I first assumed that there was some clever algorithm at play - one that chooses the promotional picture of a Facebook friend to encourage other to enter. Pondering on this theory on the way to work, I'd decided that it would be far too difficult to achieve. How did they link the participants race number to a Facebook account? There are some clever programmers out there, and social media is creeping into every facet of life, but surely this would be too large a step?

The answer came within a few minutes of arriving at my desk when a colleague piped up "How are you on my Facebook feed?," before adding, "It is you isn't it?". And with a quick flick of his wrist, I was face-to-face with my image once again. So it was true then, I was an internet sensation. Who'd have thought it. At my age!

Comments generally fell into one of four categories;

1/. Did you do this yourself? 

2/. Did you enter a competition?

3/. How much did you pay?

4/. Oh, I didn't know you'd won the race!

I don't know whether I should be offended that people thought I'd take the time to mock up a fake advert, or that I'd be so vain to enter a competition to have my image used for advertising material. And the fact that I'd pay for it was quite frankly ludicrous - obviously they don't know that I have Yorkshire heritage. I do, however, quite like the thought that they thought I would be good enough to win the race. Maybe one day?

As far as the photograph goes, I remember it well. I had recently reached the highest point on the course and was running back through the Redwoods - a stunning spot and definitely worth a visit - and although there was still nearly 10k to go, it was pretty much all downhill from here. I was riding a wave of euphoria, or maybe exhaustion, when I saw the photographer and out went the arms. 

It's a great shot, if I do say so myself, especially when most of the other pictures taken of me whilst running make me look as if I've lost control of my limbs, whilst simultaneously taking part in a gurning competition.

My only regret with this brush with fame is that, had I known, I might have made a bit more of an effort. Chosen smarter running gear, had a quick refresh around the corner or done something with my hair?  Okay, maybe not the last one, but certainly a less orangey top wouldn't have gone amiss!