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Timbo

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Timbo last won the day on June 9

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About Timbo

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    Full Member
  • Birthday 01/01/1966

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  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Lincolnshire
  • Interests
    History, Archaeology, language, wooden boats, woodwork, fishing, filmmaking. photography in no particular order.

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  1. Father's day...well, the 'kids' outdid themselves this year! First they organised a Clarins hand and arm massage and pamper session for me yesterday. Today they have given me a gift of all of the Clarins oils, potions and hand creams used the day before along with Clarins shower foams, 5ml samples of all the latest fragrance releases and a 100 ml bottle of Montblanc Legend that I was missing from my collection. With promises of more gifts to come this afternoon I'm amazed they managed to organise and pay for all of this when they've been having a hard time getting their beagly heads around 'there's a kid stuck in the well' and paying for their own dog biscuits. It's no wonder they are tired and worn out! Thanks 'boys'!
  2. There's a Brooke for sale on Facebook! 1912 Brooke Cabin Launch Vintage / Classic Boat, Carvel Construction with Oak Ribs and Pine Planks. Comes with the rare Brooke Empire engine.
  3. Sorry for the late reply, I was at an event, organised for gentlemen of taste and sophistication, to launch a new fragrance line from a long established high-end niche perfumery. Yeah, I don't know why I was on the list either! Oh, wait a minute... It did give me a chance to catch up with my perfumer friend Mo before he heads to Russia for the general launch of his new fragrance line over there and upcoming Vogue feature (his new range of accessible fragrances are currently exclusive to Ellie's perfumery where they had their debut). I was interested to discover that his perfume bottles for his top of the range perfumes (hand blown, diamond encrusted, etched glass with solid gold fittings) are created in Suffolk. I also took the opportunity to get my nose on the new Creed Aventus Cologne (£155 for 50 ml). Lighter and more refreshing, due to the addition of mint, I won't be adding it to my collection as I prefer a more robust scent and already have the Aventus EDP. The new Ted Baker Turkish Barbershop range was also interesting. I'd been volunteered to act as the subject for the demonstration. So while the Master Barber, who turned out to be a very attractive young lady, coiffured and cut my hair, demonstrated cleansing, toning and the new beard oil before demonstrating a traditional cutthroat shave (I admit I am a badger hair and safety razor practitioner), finishing with a face and neck massage and a spritz of the new cologne (reminds me of the Floris Special No 127 £87 for 100 ml), I put some thought to the new range of men's grooming product that MM and I will be releasing next year. 'MentalMan for Gentlemen' (TM) a range of grooming products for men of a certain age and outlook, tired of smelling of sweat and desperation! Available soon in B&Q and chandlers nationwide. The first in our product line is a combined heavy duty moisturizer, sunblock and insecticide. Too long in the sun? Skin on your face all stretchy and wrinkly? Look over eighty and you are only 43? You need Kn-nutted (TM) by MentalMan for Gentlemen (TM). Made with only the finest lard, bitumen and DDT.
  4. First off welcome to the forum. It's nice to see more historians! The experts may be able to confirm or not but there is something familiar about the roof line and hull of the boat in the second to last image. It reminds me of one currently outside Martham Boats, on the left of the picture, or was last year. Poor picture as it's a screen grab from some film footage. I think it was Doug, possibly Dave that told me it was an Oulton Broad boat?
  5. Timbo

    My Day

    That explains why they're jumping in't cut and need rescuing!
  6. Digging through the British Pathe film archive... https://www.britishpathe.com/video/concrete-boat
  7. “It's not the sort of night for bed, anyhow.” Kenneth Grahame,The Wind in the Willows The afternoon nap! When did I become so old and so tired that I need an afternoon nap? Without my afternoon nap I start to slow down. When forty winks is not an option, then coffee is my saviour. As Martin has pointed out, I am a bit of a coffee snob. My coffee of choice is always Italian and I blend and grind my own beans. I do not do instant coffee, not ever. At home, the kettle is never cold and neither is the coffee pot. You may have noticed that I have not yet mentioned coffee aboard Royal Tudor? There's a reason for this. I have yet to sort out the coffee situation aboard Royal Tudor. I remember the coffee but forget the rest of the paraphernalia! Sometimes even coffee cannot rouse me and I have to turn to Lucozade. Friends may notice beer can also have the desired effect, freeing up my gob and sending it into overdrive. But without a source of energy, like a battered tin automaton, I clomp around getting slower and slower until everything just stops. My thought process is the first to go, followed by speech and finally balance and coordination. Ellie is aware of the signs that my energy levels are too low and, as I have come to appreciate, she seamlessly slips in to support me when I'm struggling. Ellie is so adept with her aid that many people don't realise I do have some serious problems with quite simple things. So, when Ellie and Grace finished shopping in that very French store 'La Thems', Ellie had among her purchases a coffee pot. She ordered fish and chips from the Bridge Stores Cafe for collection later and we walked back to Royal Tudor for a coffee and an afternoon nap. Since the collapse of the dinette bed that morning I repaired to what we call the 'Captain's Cabin'. This is RT's single cabin containing a single berth, wardrobe and washbasin. Previously it also had storage underneath the bunk but we have since used that space for the waste tank for the new toilet system, the drawers fronts cut down and replaced for the appearance. Sliding the door shut, I was soon in the land of nod, dreaming of an elephant hunt according to Grace and Grandma. I talk in my sleep! Grace is getting used to my terminology for meal times, these being breakfast, second breakfast or elevenses, luncheon, tea, dinner (if formal) or supper (if informal). Her favourite meal of the day is tea which she normally takes in the company of Grandma from one of Grace's collection of teapots and teacups and consists of tea, cakes, biscuits and finger sandwiches. “What shall we talk about?” Grace will ask as Grandma pours the tea. A fish and chip supper from the Bridge Stores was very welcome that evening. I was famished and feeling decidedly 'ropey'. After supper I retired to RT's cockpit with a second mug of coffee to watch the fun and games on the water. To 'perc up' is an appropriate term. There's a pseudo scientific theory that water has memory. I have a pet theory that water traps history. Outwardly the area around the Herbert Woods Yard may have changed over the years, but in some aspects it hasn't changed at all. As I sit and watch the antics of hirers returning to the yard memories of my own childhood afloat bubble to the surface. Feeling a little refreshed I took the boys for their walk behind the riverside properties that line banks between Potter Heigham Bridge and Repps while Grace telephoned her Mum and Dad. In the hour or so that I had been gone Maurice Mynah had arrived and moored behind us. We had seen him on the Ant earlier in the day. We chatted for an hour over a beer and a cup of tea. Ellie and Gracie were tired from our adventures and headed to bed. I was still feeling ropey and was not long behind them finding Ellie had made up my bed in the Captain's Cabin and laid out my various pills and potions. I made sure Dylan had taken his tablet and then took mine. I was woken by the sound of a boat engine. Our phones had died earlier after Gracie's call home so I had no idea of the time. It was dark, approaching midnight I think. A hire boat with drunken crew aboard, disco lights flashing had just gone full steam upriver towards the bridge. I waited for the crash but the roar of the engine heralded the return of the boat to attempt to moor opposite us. I say 'attempt' because it took them half an hour of ramming the bank multiple times at full speed before they managed to land a part of their crew, only to get a warp wrapped around their prop and to start the whole process again. Finally, they moored up. Since their arrival lights had been coming on in all the riverside properties and torches were sweeping the banks from both sides. I get the feeling the 'hullabaloos' had tried to land or rammed the quay or boats on their way upriver. I noted boat name and number and tried to get back to sleep. Sleep escaped me as our water pumps kept firing. My brother in law Watson took the job of connecting RT's shower to the water system. Previously the shower had been connected by some adapters that Watson tells me are the wrong angle or something. The problem is, the new connectors, although the correct angle, leak. The bulkhead is getting wet. The carpet in the front cabin is getting wet. Wet means rot. It also means the water pumps are constantly firing to maintain pressure in the water system. So I spent an hour hunting for the water system fuse by the light of my Zippo lighter. I finally found the correct fuse, removed it and peace reigned. Although I couldn't sleep as both Dylan and Toby had decided they wanted to share the single bunk now I was in the Captain's Cabin after the previous morning's collapse of the double dinette bunk. I gave up, got up, put the kettle on and made a drink. I added 're-plumb shower', add a switch to turn water system off from dashboard and make new tabletop' to the list of jobs for RT. I then dragged the squabs from the dinette onto the floor, made a bed of sorts and the boys and I got off to sleep.
  8. “Badger hates Society, and invitations, and dinner, and all that sort of thing.” Kenneth Grahame,The Wind in the Willows At home, I have neighbours and acquaintances. Just like badger, I'm not much of a social animal. But the rivers and broads make friends of us all and Grace was more than a little intrigued to discover I knew more people in, on and around The Broads than I did at home. After receiving a royal salute from Vaughan on board his new boat as we left Simpsons boatyard, Gracie was wearing her thoughtful expression. “Timbo?” “Yes?” “Do all of you friends live in Norfolk?” “Not all of them, but a lot do.” “Do they all have boats?” “Some of them do, but not all of them.” “Why do all your friends wear silly hats?” “To stop their heads exploding!” The boat was fuelled, the dogs walked, Dylan and I were medicated and Ellie was still feeling delicate from three glasses of wine and a five thirty wake up call. Potter Heigham would be our destination for Grace to buy gifts for Mummy, Daddy and her baby brother Arlo. So while Ellie went back to her bunk, Captain Gracie and I helmed Royal Tudor down the River Ant. After talking so much about Princess Grace and while my queen is snoozing in the forward cabin I should say something about the majesty that is Royal Tudor. Built in 1960 my grand lady turns sixty next year. Believe it or not, boats do have a personality. To me, RT's personality is somewhere between Margaret Rutherford and Joyce Grenfell with the looks of a young Jean Simmons. It must be well over four years ago since I last helmed Royal Tudor in near solitude. Her time off the water has changed her in some subtle and not so subtle ways. In the past Royal Tudor was deft at manoeuvring, she could turn on a sixpence with the lightest touch of the helm where it takes some effort to turn her wheel now. I'm going to have to take a look at that. In motion RT sets her own pace. There is no hurrying her unless she wants to or she needs to. There is no need for fancy instrumentation, Sat Navs or GPS systems, not that there ever is on the Broads, as the old girl will tell you if you are going too fast. If you take her above a walking pace she will groan and grumble, rattle, creak and complain. Hit the sweet spot, RT will guide you to it, and she glides through the water with barely a murmur. If you need to overtake Royal Tudor, then you are speeding. Having said that, Gracie, Royal Tudor and I took it especially slowly on our trip to Potter Heigham. Plenty of time for me to order my thoughts and reminisce on forty seven years of visiting The Broads. I retrieved the set of folding steps I used in the past for Uncle Albert to disembark and set them up in front of the helm so that Gracie could stand on them to see over the cockpit and reach the wheel. It took us the distance from Stalham to joining the Ant for Grace to master keeping Royal Tudor in a straight line. “I know what to do Timbo, I can do it!” That little girl was fascinated by everything she saw. Trees, birds, wild flowers, stoats, the names and history of the landscape that glided past us. We nosed into Barton Turf so she could see one of our favourites mooring spots and turn the boat. Around The Heater we discussed shields and sword fights. Across Barton we discussed different types of sail boats (I have to learn more), weather patterns, cloud shapes, fish nets and ecology. Gracie helmed RT all the way down the river Ant, across Barton Broad, and further down the Ant to Ludham bridge. Along the way we encountered the wherry Albion under full sail. As we were just bimbling along we were happy to sit a way upstream and follow along. But soon there was a backlog of boats behind us, many of them new helms, and Albion had slowed almost to a stop. Before we could make our move one of the boats behind us decided that it was OK to go flat out and overtake all the other boats as well as Albion through blind bends and into oncoming boats. I edged RT further out into the river to stop the rest following suit and waited for Albion's helm and lookout to look behind and give an indication. “You pillock! Give us a clue?” I muttered under my breath. The first at another hire boat trying to come around us without noticing the huge wherry in front then suddenly going into reverse, and the second at Albion's lookout. Eventually the lookout looked and waved us through. So now with clear water ahead we continued our bimble. Before Ludham I spotted a familiar and welcome sight. Listing to port, probably under the weight of her master who was looking decidedly 'piratey', was Nyx under the command of a certain Maurice Mynah. Nyx was still in the distance when Gracie started to chuckle. "This is one of your friends Timbo!" exclaimed Gracie. "How do you make that out?" "The hat!" Ellie surfaced just before we reached Ludham bridge. Gracie wanted to try the horn as we went under the bridge.The temporary air horn inflated by bicycle pump was feeble to say the least. Gracie was somewhat disappointed. “That sounds like a duck trump!” declared Gracie before erupting into giggles. A new horn is something we need to add to the growing shopping list of items Royal Tudor needs. To this list can be added two new mooring warps, without which mooring is decidedly difficult having to swap lines from various parts of the boat when coming into moor. Through Ludham we headed to the Ant mouth and turned to follow the River Bure downstream. That weekend the Three Rivers Yacht Race was taking place, so I put on some revs and got a wiggle on to Potter Heigham hoping to get a mooring. Gracie disappeared below decks with Grandma but they soon arrived back bearing cake, biscuits and a cup of tea. I have a new found enjoyment of cake. I blame my very best friend Doug for this. Call a tea break and I can guarantee Doug will ask 'Is there any cake?'. It's either Doug's fault or I admit I've entered that stage of life where cake features heavily, as do sheds. We made Potter Heigham before tea time, 4 pm proper tea time, moored in the only open space opposite Herbert Woods yard river entrance (not ideal) and took the boys and Gracie for a walk into 'town' to stretch legs, before I headed back to Royal Tudor for a well deserved nap! More later!
  9. “Here today, up and off to somewhere else tomorrow! Travel, change, interest, excitement! The whole world before you, and a horizon that's always changing!” Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows “Just look at it!” Gracie almost squealed. “Grandma! Timbo! Just look at it! How far does it go?” There is nothing as joyous in life as watching someone discover something new and exhilarating. I felt like a showman. 'And for my next fete of prestidigitation...' “How far are we going?” asked Gracie. “Around Pleasure Hill Island and back to find somewhere to moor for the night.” Gracie's brow furrowed. “No, we are not!” “Not what?” I asked a bit concerned. “Going to Pleasure Island.” “We are it's over there!” I said pointing out the hummocks marooned mid broad. “That's not Pleasure Island!” exclaimed Gracie. “Not that Pleasure Island sweetie. A different one,” said Grandma saving the day and realising Gracie was thinking of Cleethorpes. Satisfied I was not pulling her leg and we were not bound for the 'Costa del Cleggy' Gracie hopped onto the step beside me. “Do you want to drive?” I asked her. I didn't really need to ask as Gracie swarmed onto the stool and took the wheel. So, we bimbled across Barton Broad, rounded Pleasure Hill Island and headed back upriver into the Ant looking for a mooring for the night Gracie 'at the helm' as I remembered my very first experience of The Broads. The last day of our holiday aboard Captain XII singing 'we shall not be moved' with my brother. 'Old hands' will have to forgive me, but for many years I've been renaming parts of the Broads. There's 'Perch Corner' which is the downstream end of the moorings that separate Salhouse Broad from the main river. This is where Matty our youngest son caught his first ever fish, a 3lb perch. There's 'Telephone Corner' one of the wild moorings on the starboard bank of the River Ant above Barton Broad where my daughter Holly dropped her phone and, like a good Dad would, I stood up to my neck in the water trying to retrieve it while the Stalham Mafia sent their wash to engulf my head. So that night's mooring was named by Gracie. The wild mooring on the port bank on the last corner of the straight before Barton Broad is now named 'Gracie's First Night Sleeping On a Real Boat Corner'. I should have learned my lesson about letting kids name things, especially pets, having had to walk a dog named 'Spot' for seventeen years! After a tea of sausages, bacon, eggs, beans, bread and butter and cups of tea Gracie decided she needed to try Royal Tudor's shower. So while Ellie supervised and Dylan and Toby stood guard, I opened the fridge and reached for a beer. Contrary to popular belief, I very rarely drink at home and Ellie almost never. A cold beer is something I save for boating, and boy did I enjoy this one! RT's new fridge was working perfectly. The ice box was frozen and the beer was chilled. What more can you ask for? It was at this point that I realised I had forgotten my medication and had left it in the car along with Dylan's medication too. But Dylan was engrossed in chasing flies on the river bank and I was feeling decidedly relaxed so I decided I would retrieve them in the morning. Out of the shower and dressed in gym-jams Ellie and Gracie joined me in the saloon while I telephoned Doug to let him know how we were getting on and that nothing major had dropped off either me or the boat! Then it was Gracie's turn to phone her Mum and Dad. “It's amazing Mummy you would love it! It's like a floating house, well a floating bungalow, you can cook and sleep on it and go for a shower and go to the toilet and I have my own bed and there are ducks and geese and water and boats...I LOVE IT!” Job done I think! With Gracie in bed, Ellie and I sat and relaxed over a glass or three of chilled wine. We talked well into the night. Something that, with the rush and bother of daily life, we don't really make time for and we really should. And so to bed where I slept like a log. If logs snored. Being kicked in my stomach at 5:30 am was a bit of a rude awakening. Dylan was in full seizure. Shouting Ellie, who was feeling a little delicate, aid arrived just in time as the dinette bed collapsed. I crashed to the floor nursing the still fitting Dylan. He came out of his fit and I immediately went into one preparing to leave the mooring and return to the wet shed to fetch his tablets and mine I fired the engine and freed the warps. RT must have sensed my urgency and responded quickly as I headed back to the shed with some haste. A cruise that had taken an hour the evening before was done in ten minutes with the tide pushing behind us. I tied up outside the shed and shambled and jogged, 'shogged', to the car to fetch medication. Tablets, a cup of tea and multiple slices of toast down the both of us and Dylan and I were almost ready to face the day. I say 'almost' as Dylan required an extra tin of dog food. He's always ravenous but particularly so after a seizure. The shock of Dylan's medical episode and three glasses of wine meant Ellie was feeling, let's say, delicate? Laid on the cockpit floor, eyes closed while Gracie applied make-up. This is not as bad as it sounds. Gracie loves make-up, make-up brushes, palettes, bottles, jars and generally related goomph. Working where she does, Ellie has been teaching Grace the professional techniques of application and regularly acts as Gracie's test subject. Grace, although only six, knows her stuff and makes a better job of applying make-up than you will see on ninety per cent of wearers on any given Saturday night. “Where to now?” asked Ellie opening one eye. “Time for a dog walk, then fuel the boat and then it's up to you guys!” I said fetching dog leads. “Potter Heigham! Gracie wants to buy presents!” “Here today, up and off to somewhere else tomorrow! Travel, change, interest, excitement! The whole world before you, and a horizon that's always changing!”
  10. Kenneth Grahame writes “Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.”. A little bit like the Mole, I ventured out of my hole and sniffed the late spring air. It had been a tough winter of coughs and agues, sneezes and diseases, wobbly legs, a jiggly hand and an errant and wayward cakehole. But spring was finally here and my white whiskers twitched with excitement at the prospect of adventures to come, for our granddaughter Gracie was making her first trip to the Norfolk Broads to meet Royal Tudor. Deciding who was the most excited about the impending trip to the Broads was going to be difficult. Gracie had packed her small suitcase the day we announced the trip. Walking Gracie to school became a chance to answer her questions about boats, boating and the rivers. 'Boat fever' was something I didn't mind catching in the least! How best to describe Grace? Six going on twenty-six. Bright as a button, very, very astute, long fair hair, tall and as limb-lithe as her name describes. Our walks to school were full of talk of ducks, otters, life-jackets, types of boats and pirates. 'There are no pirates Timbo, only those near Africa!'. There's no fooling Gracie! The day of departure finally arrived and after a fitful night's sleep, I of course overslept by half an hour, the day dawned bright and sunny. A quick coffee and after walking the beagles Ellie and I started to pack the QQ for the journey. Soon we were leaving 'Big G' three-quarters of an hour later than we intended with Gracie wedged in the back seat, the beagles in the boot and the QQ full to the gunwales with luggage and bits for the boat. We made our way via Doddington and Harmston to join the Sleaford roundabout. Just after the stretch of dual carriageway, Gracie was feeling travel sick. More I think due to Grandma asking if she was OK than actually feeling ill. So when I managed to find somewhere to pull over Gracie became my front seat navigator. I introduced her to the game of Pub and Church cricket. A game quite difficult to play since the demise of the public house. The rules are simple. Passengers take it in turn to 'bat'. A church with a square tower is '6 runs'. A pub name or it's sign provides additional runs to the number of 'legs' stated or depicted. So the Canary and Linnet pub provides four runs. The Carpenters Arms would have been no runs but the sign depicted two 'carpenters' holding up the arms so this was four runs. A church with a spire means that you are 'out' and the next passenger starts spotting to score. Due to the lack of pubs these days, windmills were substituted as three runs. Playing Pub and Church Cricket, Gracie reading the names of places on the Sat-Nav and handing out the mints, we were soon over Sutton Bridge and into Norfolk (According to Gracie the Bridge counted as fifty runs and brought her score to 367 not out). I stopped at the services at Swaffham, where Ellie realised what crap service we actually got from eateries at home. While Grace and Ellie went into McDonald's I sat outside with the dogs, the staff offering to bring my food outside while the ladies sat in comfort. Fed and watered we got underway again. As we drove along Gracie got more and more excited as I pointed out landmarks that were increasingly boat related. Down the new Broadland bypass, turn right for Wroxham and over the bridge and a 'wow' from Gracie as she saw the busy river and the boats. We stopped at Norfolk Marine to buy Gracie her life jacket. We were pleasantly surprised expecting a price tag of £50 plus to be asked for £25. While I waited with the 'beagle boys' Ellie and Gracie popped to Roy's for some last minute shopping. “They should call it rob-dog Roy's” Grace announced upon her return to the car clutching a new 'word search' puzzle book. “It's ever so expensive!” there's still no fooling Gracie. On our way again and we finally arrived at Stalham. Gracie was incredibly excited. The first job at the wet shed was to take the 'boys' for a well-earned wee. So Ellie, Gracie and I walked down the footpath behind the sheds while the boys stretched their legs. Back at the wet shed, I stopped by the two wrecked day launches parked on barrels outside. Gracie's face was a picture when she thought fleetingly that one of them was Royal Tudor. Just inside the shed, Dave (Janet Anne) was varnishing Uncle Mike's boat Chameleon. We made our way around the jetty until we, at last, reached Royal Tudor. Gracie was full of gasps and wonder and finally delight. It was love at first sight! While Ellie and Grace pottered around exploring RT, putting away the groceries and starting to clean, Dave and I did some catching up and waited for the chance to sort out the stern gland grease. We found this had already been done so Grace and I made a run to Tesco for last minute bits too expensive in Roy's, like beer, wine and batteries for Gracie's night light. In Tesco, Gracie looked thoughtful. “No, he's not a pirate.” “Who?” I asked her. “Dave. He might look like a pirate, but he's too nice to be a pirate. Besides, he doesn't have a wooden leg or a parrot!” “Ah!” Did I mention there's no fooling Gracie? At last with Royal Tudor fully provisioned and with the day waning rapidly, I made final preparations to get underway. By this time I was getting quite rushed, hot and bothered. I dropped RT's cockpit, took away her connection to shore power, started her engine, let loose the warps and we nosed out of the shed! Flags flying we made our way out onto the river and Gracie was elated! It wasn't long before she was acting as 'lookout' spotting birds and boats. As the river widened Gracie was even more amazed. “It's the first time I've ever been on a boat on a big river!” Gracie exclaimed. I was waiting for the look on her face when we reached the expanse of Barton Broad. As we made our way out onto the broad Gracie gasped. Both Barton Broad and Gracie's face were shimmering in the evening sunshine. What a glorious, glorious sight to see! “Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.”. Part Two soon!
  11. For those of us travelling down from Lincolnshire using the A15 and A17... Lincolnshire CC seem intent on digging up the whole county and bringing the roads to a standstill. Those roads that have not been dug up are acquiring new speed cameras and visits from mobile camera units at an alarming rate. The city of Lincoln is still choked with traffic as the construction of the bypass continues and to add to this mayhem they have started resurfacing work on all outlying roads and roads feeding onto the A15 and A17.
  12. Me? Windows 10? Ooh hell no!
  13. How are you 'downloading' the photos? Is it via Google cloud or Microsoft cloud or is it via the phones USB cable?
  14. Welcome to the Forum! First and foremost enjoy yourselves! 'Slowly does it' is the key. I got a bit of advice from a very good friend of mine this last weekend over a bottle of beer at Potter Heigham. I think Kenneth Grahame may have said it first in the Wind in the Willows but it's still sound advice! “After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working.”
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