David Lawson

Julia Bradbury - Queen of the Castle

2011-06-09T01:24:00.001+01:00

"Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy" - Thich Nhat Hanh

TV PERSONALITY Julia Bradbury takes time out from filming BBC’s Countryfile programme at Chirk Castle to talk to chief reporter David Lawson about what she thinks makes the area so special and why her next project is her greatest challenge yet.

“I FEEL like I should apologise to people when I meet them,” confesses Julia Bradbury, the smiling face of BBC’s Countryfile and a whole raft of walking programmes that have caught the public’s imagination.
“I’ve suddenly become one of those people who is on everyone’s TVs all the time,”she laughs, “People are going to start complaining of Julia Bradbury overload!”
With a little friendly persuasion, the small crowd of Friday afternoon visitors gathered around Chirk Castle’s main gate fall quiet as Julia steps out into the sunshine, repeating an interview with a National Trust spokeswoman as her film crew capture it from yet another angle.

The team have been in the area filming a piece for the 40th anniversary of Offa’s Dyke Path, talking to local experts about its ancient woodland and investigating Chirk’s imposing castle. With her piece to camera finished, Julia and I head for a nearby bench for a chat while her crew get set up for their next shot.
“We seem to be on some kind of rota at the moment that says we have to come up to this area at least once every three weeks,”smiles Julia, “It’s great, I absolutely love it here – I just wish it wasn’t such a long drive back.”

The last year alone has seen Julia return repeatedly to the region, from Canal Walks alongside Chirk’s Llangollen Canal to recording nature pieces from Lake Vyrnwy’s RSPB reserve, but having visited virtually every part of the world as a travel presenter and having now walked across a great many of them, I’m curious to know what aspect of Chirk, Oswestry and our borderland region she feels sets it apart:
“It’s the people,”says Julia without hesitation, “The people here always seem to me to be really feisty, and that’s always appealed to me. I’m a feisty girl myself after all.”

She might be feisty, but she’s also incredibly popular,her arrival on Countryfile coinciding with a huge ratings surge, turning the show from a sleepy Sunday morning affair into a surprise primetime hit.

As we continue to chat, school children pouring onto a coach next to us begin to recognise her, smiling and waving from inside their bus, with Julia waving and calling back to them. It’s this same genuine, approachable character that has made her programmes so popular and watchable, yet after presenting so many different types of show from Wish You Were Here through to Wainwright Walks she says she is still unable to pick out her own favourite.
“Oh, it really is impossible to say, everything I do is different and that’s what makes it work for me. I’d be useless in an office,”she admits, “I just couldn’t handle it, but doing this job means each day I can be doing something new.”

Even so, she certainly appears to have found her niche with her immensely successful walking programmes, something that has given her the opportunity to expand into writing books, her latest Canal Walks featuring local sections of the Llangollen Canal: “I absolutely love that!”she enthuses, “I really enjoy the writing process and I’ve got a great co-author who I work with, Claire Jones – another good, proper Welsh girl. We have such fun. It’s definitely something I want to do more of.”

A combination of a tough work ethic and a quirk of scheduling means you can currently spend a whole week
watching nothing but wall-to-wall Bradbury, she jokes, from Country File on BBC 1 and Icelandic Walks on BBCFour, to Canal Walks on BBC 2 and constant repeats of Wainwright Walks on BBC and Sky. Despite this however, a schedule of constant filming for Countryfile alongside her work for various cancer charities, means it doesn’t appear as though she will be disappearing from our screens any time soon.

So what’s next? “Having a baby!”she exclaims, unable to hide her excitement. Currently five months pregnant, 40-year-old Julia admits a medical condition called endometriosis meant she had not been sure she would ever be able to become pregnant. “There’s the Icelandic Walk programme, some other stuff over the summer and lots I want to do in the future,”she says, “but for I’m just really looking forward to being
a mum. I can’t wait!”

FILM: Crib Goch Diaries

2011-05-25T22:35:00.004+01:00

I had wanted to have a go at some documentary-style film making, so when I began my year long mission to see if hypnotherapy could cure my life-long fear of exposed heights for the paper, I decided to keep a video diary and film my attempt. The film is in two parts below, you can also read the original article here to find out more.

It was quite a steep learning curve. Learning to use new editing software as you go along is tricky enough, but it turns out recording voice over parts is much harder than I thought. It's a little more amateurish than I would have liked, but it was great fun and I would definitely recommend having a go at making one yourself - you'll never watch TV reports in quite the same way ever again.

I must make a big mention of youtube users a7dro and Andrew David (andrewdavid68) whose incredible footage I used in the diaries. I've seen no other footage anywhere that conveys the feeling of Crib Goch like their amazing images - Check out their youtube channels for more great footage!

Don't look down! - Hypnotherapy on test

2011-02-08T11:44:00.025Z

With the help of hypnotherapist Alan Wick and mountain guide Nigel Shepherd, reporter David Lawson gives hypnotherapy its ultimate test on one of Wales' highest and most exposed mountain ridges, finding out if it can really can cure a life-long fear of heights.

THREE-thousand feet above Snowdonia lies Crib Goch, a knife-edge ridge amongst the clouds, that last year I was prevented from crossing by my life-long fear of heights. Now though I was back, to see if hypnotherapy would finally allow me to conquer my fear.

The challenge began 12months ago after my first attempt on the mountain failed to even reach the summit, let alone its nightmarish mile-long tightrope ridge. I should explain that my fear is not strictly heights, but 'exposure' I love high places, but put me on a ladder and I freeze. Transfer that sensation to the top of Wales' most exposed mountain ridge, dropping away hundreds of feet either side and my legs trembled uncontrollably before grinding to a halt.
It was clear will power was not enough, I needed help, but as a hardened sceptic I had initially dismissed hypnotherapy. As I began to run out of options however, my research led me to hypnotherapist Alan Wick who immediately impressed me with his ability to explain the logic behind his approach.

Alan explains our brains search for old memories that match the situation before us, to know how to act. In my case the only matches involved fear, so my brain's reaction was to hit the panic button, overloading me with adrenalin and fear, creating yet another destructive memory in the process.
Fortunately however, our brains cannot distinguish between a real and imagined experience and this was how Alan planned to help me, creating new positive memories for my brain to find.

Without exception, everyone I mentioned hypnotherapy to asked the same question; "What if he makes you think you're a chicken?"
It's amusing, but shows what Alan's profession is up against, thanks to TV and stage shows, and is the reason the National Council's code of ethics, prohibits members from performing hypnosis for entertainment.
Hypnotherapy itself felt like a vivid daydream, guided by Alan, visualising the environment that scared me but without the fear. As the sessions progressed the hypnosis became deeper and more effective as Alan built in tools to help me in case I started to panic, the most effective of which involved visualising a dial with which to control my emotions.

Under Alan's expert guidance it was a very enjoyable experience and at every stage I was in control and aware of what we were doing. The first time I was put into a relaxed state, I admit I was taken aback by its effectiveness, but immediately realised I could simply get up and walk away at any time.

Alan says most straight forward phobias can be dealt with in around four sessions and after five weeks, daily exercises and a nightly CD to listen to, I was ready. In the weeks that followed however, an unhelpful voice in my head kept asking "what if it doesn't work?"
Two of my closest friends have accompanied me on all my mountain adventures and had been with me on Crib Goch the previous year, but as desperately as I wanted them there this time, I did not want them to be responsible for me if things went wrong.
That said, I also realised this was not something I could tackle alone. Nigel Shepherd of Penmaenmawr is an international mountain guide and one of the UK's leading mountain experts, so I was delighted when he agreed to join me. With Nigel onboard my preparation was complete and there was only one thing left to do.

I had slept little the previous night and driving through Snowdonia beneath a darkening sky, was painfully aware that months of preparation were reaching their conclusion. As the road curved around the mountainside my heart skipped a beat, as I caught my first glimpse of Crib Goch sliding silently from the mist.

At a windswept Pen-y-Pass I was encouraged to find Nigel enthusiastic and cheerful, but he warned me that what would be a challenge for me in fine weather, may be impossible in high winds
I always thought I knew the mountains, but under Nigel's instruction they took on a new dimension and as we left Snowdon's easy paths, and climbed into the mist, he explained the different coloured rocks underfoot; which would grip even when wet, which would slide and which were likely to crumble at the slightest pressure.

Alan always stressed we were not trying to eliminate my fear, leaving me oblivious to danger, but simply prevent it overwhelming me, and as the route became steeper and we passed the point where I had stopped the previous year, the sensation was like a strong flu medicine. The symptoms were still there, but distant and blunted. No paralysing fear, just an awareness of increased risk.
With Nigel guiding me I continued upwards, making sure of each hold before reaching for the next, until finally we breeched the summit and could look out along the ridge.

Crouched low we waited, allowing the strongest gusts to pass, howling banshee-like as they whipped carpets of mist screaming over the rock edge into oblivion.
Moving along the steep left-hand side, using the peak as a handrail, we worked our way towards the Pinnacles. Even in my nightmares the ridge never held so much fear for me as the Pinnacles, three jagged outcrops guarding the ridge, threatening to ensnare the timid between them. With Nigel's help the first two proved straightforward, but I knew what was coming.

I had always hoped videos I had seen of people climbing the third Pinnacle had been some alternate route for crazy people, but as we reached its base it was clear the only way up was a stomach churning climb out onto the sheer right side.
A few months ago the mere thought of this set my heart pumping. But now, while I could hear my brain's warnings that I was nearing my limit and any slip could surely only have one outcome, I was not paralysed by fear. I used Alan's techniques to calm myself, weighed up the situation and made my decision.
Stepping out onto the first ledge I was instantly aware of the drop beneath me. This was by far the most exposed position I had ever experienced and I paused instinctively, braced against the ice-cold fear sure to come shooting through my veins. But nothing happened. Up onto the next ledge, and the next, and the next and over the top. I could hardly believe it.

From there the descent towards Snowdon was a blur of elation and only when we dropped back below the clouds to Snowdon's gentle paths, did I finally stop to take it all in. Hundreds of feet below, the icy waters of Lake Glaslyn had never looked so blue

For days after I felt quiet, almost humbled. I had been unable to imagine life without this fear and it took time to adjust.
I was unprepared for how powerful and effective hypnotherapy could be, and this in turn impressed on me the importance of choosing the right hypnotherapist.

In the same way that you would only chose an expert like Nigel to guide you on the mountains, I believe you should only chose an expert such as Alan to guide you through hypnotherapy. Not only will this give you the best chance of success, but knowing you are in the hands of an expert will allow you to relax and truly enjoy the experience.

____________________________________________________

Hypnotherapy Diary

Week One: Initial consultation and given a CD to listen to as I go to sleep. Alan explained our brains naturally filter what people tell us, but as we drift off there’s a period when we still take in information though the our conscious mind is switched off (like falling asleep infront of the TV) this is the best time for that kind of suggestion to work and a similar state to hypnosis.

Week Two: First hypnosis. Lying listening to Alan, I wasn’t sure it was doing anything. Was only when he counted me back out of my relaxed state that I realised just how emersed I had been. Very pleasant. CD is proving effective. First time I used it was surprised to feel myself relaxing.

Week Three: More hypnosis. Listened to CD while properly awake. It’s designed to boost self confidence and I noticed I have been walking taller and feeling noticeably more confident (despite strangling myself with the headphones). Given new self-hypnosis ‘homework’ to do.

Week Four: Hypnosis much deeper and more specific to the mountain now. Building new ‘fake’ memories. Imagining it so vividly I actually felt the sick feeling in my stomach at one stage. Stopped and started again, repeating it until able to experience it without the fear.

Week Five: Developed an ‘anchor’ linking feelings from a happy memory to an action (pressing thumb and forefinger together). Allows you to trigger those feelings at will whenever you start to panic. Also learned to control subconscious by visualising a dial and simply an emotion up or down which seemed particularly effective.

CLICK HERE FOR CRIB GOCH VIDEO DIARIES
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Nigel Shepherd

MOUNTAIN expert Nigel Shepherd from Penmaenmawr is one of the UK’s foremost authorities with over 30 years experience.

- Qualified as a Mountain Guide 1979. Mountain Guides Association Training Officer 1986-1989. President 1993-96.

- Has worked everywhere from New Zealand and Australia to Greenland, Norway and Nepal.

- Author of books on ropework and rock climbing, his photography is also widely published.

- Available for off piste skiing, touring, alpine trekking and climbing.

- www.nigelshepherdphotography.co.uk

Alan Wick

A GRADUATE of Bristol's Clifton Practice Alan worked in nursing for 20years before using hypnotherapy to quit smoking. Realising its potential, he retrained, established Positive Hypnotherapy, and began refining his Solution Focussed Brief technique.

- A member of the National Council for Hypnotherapy, Alan recommends people only use therapists signed up to a strong regulatory body

- Says hypnotherapy can help with smoking, weight loss, problems sleeping, anxiety and depression, sport, performance, phobias such as flying, spiders and needles, compulsive behaviour, drinking, gambling or drug use, and can even aid pain relief in childbirth.

- Holds clinics in Wrexham, Chester and the Wirral, Oswestry and Nantwich

- www.positivehypnotherapy.net

Eddie Izzard - Marathon Man

2010-03-05T10:24:00.006Z

“We are different, we are the same, we are United Kingdom, we are Africa. We are humanity!” Eddie Izzard

With BBC Three currently airing their three part documentary following comedian Eddie Izzard on his 43-marathons in 51-days for Sports Relief, here’s the article I wrote having caught up (but only just) with him as he ran through Oswestry and Chirk (at the time aiming to complete a mere 30marathons). Have a read then please donate to his challenge at http://www.sportrelief.com/

WHEN Sir Ranulph Fiennes announced he would attempt seven marathons in seven days, I remember being impressed though not exactly shocked, but when comedian Eddie Izzard announced he was to run 30 marathons in 30 days however, I was probably not the only person waiting for the punchline.

Amazingly though, last week the world famous comedian, who most recently starred in the blockbuster Valkyrie alongside Tom Cruise, arrived in Oswestry on the 13th day of his incredible challenge, having run at least a marathon distance every day and hitting the 30- mile marker on a several occasions. Having caught up with Eddie on the outskirts of Chirk, we joined him as he crossed the border into Wales and caught up on his challenge so far.

“OH WOW, that’s right, he did, didn’t he!” says Eddie, genuinely startled, as I mention Fiennes’ seven marathons in seven days, perhaps for a brief moment realising the scale of what he himself has achieved already, nearing the end of his 13th back-to-back 30-mile day.

OK, admittedly Fiennes’ marathons came just three months after a heart bypass, but let’s be honest, the world’s greatest living explorer is just the kind of person you would pick for such a feat of endurance. If you sat down with a piece of paper and drew up a challenge more than three times as long, I’m not sure too many people would have Eddie Izzard at the top of their list of potentials.

But that, he explains, is the point of the challenge: “I really do believe this is something we all have in us and that it is in our genes to be able to do this kind of thing. “For centuries, people have run like this for days, hunting food and tracking down their prey, and in other parts of the world people still do and have retained that ability.

“Even here though, I believe that if say another world war broke out tomorrow and we were forced to run, either for our survival or to fight, I feel we would all find the capacity.”
In all Eddie will cover 1,000 miles in seven weeks, raising money and awareness for Sports Relief. Not bad after just four weeks’ training!

“Sport Relief asked me if I would like to do a sporting challenge. I had always wanted to do a big physical running challenge and this seemed a great way to do it and also raise money to help Africa and the poorest countries in the world as well as projects that Sport Relief fund in the UK.
“I told them I wanted to try to run around the whole of the UK. London to Cardiff to Belfast to Edinburgh and back to London.
“They said ‘Great. You’re nuts’. They said ‘How far is this?’ I said 1,100 miles. I will try to run 30 miles a day for six days a week. It will probably take seven weeks.
They said ‘Right, anything else?’ Yes, I'm leaving in five weeks!”

As we headed for the Welsh border at Chirk, Eddie prepared to change from the English flag he had been carrying to his Welsh one, a symbolic gesture at the heart of his chosen route.
“It started as a vague idea, but has become something of a mantra and is the reason I’m not just carrying the Union Jack,” he explains. “I tell people; we are different, we are the same, we are United Kingdom, we are Africa, we are humanity.

“I’ve been really enjoying this part of the run, you’ve got great history - being the place where Oswald was killed in battle - the scenery is beautiful and I’ve been able to watch the butterflies and the bees as a I go by, which takes my mind off running, but that’s part of it too. I could be running here, or in Africa, or in Yemen - where I was born - and still find that beauty, we’re all part of the same thing.”

As we left Eddie continuing on towards Wrexham, I couldn’t help wondering if he was right. Perhaps we really do all have, built into the genes of our ancestry, the capacity for such incredible feats of endurance. After less than a mile however my genes were telling me they would rather I went back to the office and donated online. You can do the same by visiting: http://www.sportsrelief.com/donate/eddie or http://www.eddieizzard.com/

A very brief Ripping Yarn

2010-01-30T00:28:00.010Z

“I always wanted to be an explorer, but - it seemed I was doomed to be nothing more than a very silly person.” Michael Palin

I recently travelled to London on the new Wrexham & Shropshire trains in the hope of "a few words" with adventurer and comedian Michael Palin, only to find you should be careful what you wish for!

CUTTING a lonely figure on Gobowen Station at 5am I can't help thinking I should have a voice over, at the very least a ticking clock and stirring BBC theme tune in the background.

I was too young for Monty Python and as a nine-year-old, most TV was an excuse not to go to bed, but then came Around the World in 80 Days, which had me sitting gripped on the edge of our settee, as the impossibly nice and terribly British Michael Palin raced across mysterious far off countries from one adventure to the next.

There are not many people I'd get up at 4am to meet, but for the chance of a few words with Michael Palin I found myself on a cold Gobowen platform alongside a handful of hardy earlybirds as two white discs emerged from the black, rumbling through the frozen darkness as the sleek gunmetal grey Wrexham and Shropshire train glided into the station.

It's a far cry from Palin's adventures on ramshackle trains with as many passengers ontop of the train as inside it. Onboard the new state of the art carriages I therefore feel a bit of a fraud as I slump into the smart grey seats of standard class. Incidentally if grey seems to be a recurring colour there's a good reason. In their attempt to persuade people out of their cars the operators explain they decided to emulate the understated greys, chromes and carbon-like materials of expensive cars that people seem to like so much.

While the Palin of old may not recognise the luxury, he would certainly recognise the route I'm travelling. Infact it was on this route that one of the railways' staff found himself sitting next to the affable comedian, on his way to give a speech at his old school in Shrewsbury. So impressed with the service was Palin that he had offered free of charge to help launch the new trains.

I use the first part of my 3hour 47minute journey to gen up on Mr Palin, but trying to think of questions he might not have been asked in his thousands of interviews is a real challenge. Almost all seats on the trains now have a table, laptop power points and free WiFi internet, so I spread myself out and carry on reading his Monty Python dairies. There's plenty I want to ask him; What his old school reports say? What does he list for 'occupation' on his passport? ...and was that parrot really just sleeping?

The trains are stunningly quiet, even the wheels have been coated to reduce noise and as we charge southwards I fall asleep, victim of comfortable seats, and a 4am start. I would normally wake in a panic (having woken up in Abergavenny before now), but the direct service means you can relax, assured of ending up in London, and I wake to find the carriage has filled around me with visitors and commuters combining country living with London wages.

London Marylebone is a pleasant place to arrive; small, unintimidating and just metres from the waiting busses and tubes, but as more and more journalists began to gather, I realised my chances of interviewing Palin were getting smaller by the minute.

It's a sad fact of journalism that newspapers almost invariably play second fiddle to TV cameras.Amidst a sea of cameras all hope seemed lost.

Being usefully taller I got the photos I needed, but the ever smiling Palin was quickly ushered away to meet train bosses, MPs and the waiting TV cameras.

At this point in one of his adventures we would be listening to Palin's narration, describing an ingenious solution the difficult obstacle infront of him.

"This looked like turning into a disaster," said my own Palin voice over unhelpfully as the minutes ebbed away.

Then came my chance. As he made to leave I headed him off at the pass and grabbed the unfortunate 66-year-old as he waved his goodbyes: "Oh! Hello, how do you do? A picture? Yes of course," smiled the bewildered Palin as a hired help snapped our photo.

And that was it. Not the indepth, inciteful interview I had hoped or planned for, but perhaps a fitting reflection of my own trip on the new Wrexham and Shropshire trains. Just like the service to London, it's invariably the destination that entices us, but more often we find that it's all about the journey.

Heart of a Dragon

2010-01-05T14:07:00.006Z

“It doesn't take a hero to order men into battle. It takes a hero to be one of those men who goes into battle.” Norman Schwarzkopf

AN INCREDIBLE new work charts Wales’ Victoria Cross recipients, including the exploits of Thomas Pryce, sonof a Llandrinio snake skin merchant, who in the First World War held back the enemy’s advance for 10 hours with just 40 troops, running out of ammunition before leading his 17 surviving men in a final bayonet attack.

In Heart of a Dragon, charting the Victoria Crosses ofWales and the Welsh Regiments from 1914-82, historian Alister Williams has uncovered an amazing amountof information, pulling together photos, recollections,reports, certificates and maps, including those of anumber of local heroes like Thomas Pryce.

Thomas Pryce Snr had been a tea, coffee and snakeskin merchant in the Dutch East Indies, a Montgomeryshire magistrate and akeen historian. His son – also Thomas Pryce – was born in 1886and went on to become Captain of 4thBattalion The Grenadier Guards, receiving the Victoria Cross after hewas killed in action at Berquin, France in April 1918.

As the author explains, Pryce’s heroics were not just a single unconscious act, buta prolonged battle against overwhelming odds, lasting more than a day.

Having received orders to clear a village at Vieux Berquin, Pryce led two platoons fromhouse to house, taking out 30 enemy soldiers, seven of which he killed himself. His platoons suffered heavy casualties however and the following morning he found himself occupying a position with the remaining 30-40 men when his left flank was gradually surrounded by the enemy, allowing them to fire down the length of his trenches. That day, Pryce and his men repelled four attacks andinflicted a greatnumber of casualties,but the enemyused this period tobring forward three large field guns within 300yards of his line,whose devastatingpower soon demolished the trenches,leaving Pryce and hismen without cover. By 6.15pm theenemy had workedtheir way to within 60yards of their position. Pryce called upon his men, telling them to cheer, charge the enemy and fight to the last, before leading the way out of the trench, where he and his men managed incredibly to drive the enemy back some 100 yards.

It was a brave effort,but half an hour later the enemy had again closed to within 60 yards and in greater numbers. By now Captain Pryce had just 17men left and every round of ammunition had been fired. Determined there should be no surrender, he once again led his men in a bayonet charge, his citation saying he was last seen ‘engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand struggle with overwhelming numbers of the enemy.'

The Victoria Cross was presented to Pryce’s widow by King George V atBuckingham Palace in April 1919, Prycehaving also received the Military Cross with Bar. In Heart of a Dragon, Alister Williams explores Pryce’s background, gaining a sense of the character of the man, as well as unearthing some poignant sources, including his last message to battalion HQ, telling them: “My left flank is entirely in the air. The KOYLI [King's Own Yorkshire LightInfantry] has gone. Enemy advancing. Find Thomas...”Other sources include a letter to his widow in which the Grenadier’s commanding officer wrote: “Your husband was perfectly splendid and his record will beone of the finest episodes of the war.”

Williams adds that among the men whofought at Vieux Berquin was a Guardsmancalled William Henry Warburton who wastaken prisoner and was later able to reporthe had been standing alongside Pryce whenhis captain was shot in the head.Pryce’s official posting of ‘missing’ was finally changedto ‘killed in action.’ His body was never identified but his name is recorded on the Memorial to the Missing at Ploegsteert in Belgium.

Review

Heart of a Dragon is a fantasticpiece of work, and while it standson its own, is actually the second volume produced by historian Alister Williams, the first having covered the period from 1854 to 1902.

It’s easy to see why this labour of lovehas taken more than 30 years to complete,going into incredible detail to document the exploits and background of more than 50 VC recipients in this one volume alone,recording not only their essential serviceand personal details, but also the storiesbehind their citations, revealing some fantastic characters.Alister says that among his own personal favourites was Lionel Rees, who in 1916 became the first ever ‘fighter pilot.’ The story of his VC was remarkable enough, but Alister says what he did after the war said just as much about his character, teaching himself to sail, before setting off for the Bahamas, a 65-day solo ocean voyage for a complete novice with no communication or chance of rescue.

Once there, Rees, by now in his mid 60s, caused considerable gossip among the white community by marrying the 18-year-old daughter of a black family on the island of Andros, where he lived out the rest of his life.

Priced £35, the beautifully presentedvolume of almost 500 pages and 1,000 photographs is a real gem. The vast time and effort invested really shines through, while the absorbing stories will keep you gripped for hours.

Available from http://www.bridgebooks/.co.uk (ISBN 1-84494-028-4)

The War Underground

2009-12-24T09:35:00.012Z

"To rid ourselves of our shadows, we must step into either total light, or total darkness" Jeremy Preston Johnston

AS THE cage doors closed on Hanmer's Arnold Ballard and the elevator hurtled ever deeper into the coal black mines, the 19-year-old resigned himself to leaving behind his family and friends, spending his Second World War in the alien underground world of the miners, as one of Britain's 'Bevin Boys.'

Even back in 1943, few were aware of the Bevin Boys, least of all 19-year-old Arnold Ballard who returned home from his honeymoon to find a fateful letter waiting for him.The man who had given his name to the programme was Ernest Bevin, the Minister of Labour and National Service for the wartime government which at the outbreak of war had begun desperately conscripting men into the armed forces, not foreseeing the difficulties a shortage of experienced coal miners would create.

By the time they realised what they had done, the coal mines had lost more than 35,000 of workers, and when attempts to persuade volunteers to replace them in time for the winter failed, Ernest Bevin announced plans to take a percentage of the conscripts to work in the mines.

"We need 720,000 men continuously employed in this industry," said Bevin, "This is where you boys come in. Our fighting men will not be able to achieve their purpose unless we get an adequate supply of coal."

News of the selection came as a real shock for the young men chosen, not least Arnold Ballard who was all set for life in the armed forces: "I was stunned," he said, "I was just back from my honeymoon and there was the letter waiting for me."I had hoped to join the Navy and wanted to be a medic, having done Red Cross certificates and training, so this came a real shock.

"Having prepared himself mentally to go to war and fight alongside his friends, the news that he would spend the war down the mines and hundreds of miles from his friends was hard to take in: "The selection was random. Each week they would pick a number and the men whose national service number ended with that number would be sent down the mines. I forget what the number was that week, but I didn't know anyone else who was selected.

"For those sent to the mines there was little chance to appeal the decision. Even those suffering claustrophobia, for whom the mines would have been a worse kind of hell than the battlefield, had little choice in the matter. One of the Bevin Boys who suffered from just this condition wrote that after psychiatric assessment he was informed he could either report for the mines or accept three months in prison, after which he would be given the same choice, again and again and again.

Only certain professions vital to the war effort were made exempt and though Arnold might have reasonably expected his medical training would secure his place in the armed forces, such was the desperate situation back home that even these skills were given up in favour of coal and energy. Like countless others he appealed, but like countless others he received his orders to report for training.

Arnold and his fellow intake received four weeks of hard physical training to ensure they were physically able to carry out the gruelling work, followed by two weeks at a disused mine in Sheffield. In no time they were reporting for work at Glapwell colliery in Derbyshire."The first time the doors slammed shut on the cage my heart was in my mouth," said Arnold, "I had no idea what to expect down below and it took off downwards at an incredible speed."

That first experience of hurtling down into the mines, surrounded by unfamiliar faces was an ordeal shared by all the Bevin Boys, packed in nervously among the joking regular miners for who this was just a normal Monday morning, but while the miners would have been used to what greeted them, for newcomers like Arnold, the sight was beyond anything he could have imagined:

"It was like a complete village underground," remembered Arnold, "there were offices, stables and horses, and tunnels - or 'gates' - each heading off to different coal faces."I was put to work on the iron rings which support the gates and tunnels. The huge weight of rock would gradually cause them to subside and it was our job to lift them back up to the proper height."

Arnold's first 18 weeks in a row were spent working the night shift, something he says took a long time to recover from. There was no shortage of danger either, with the inexperienced new miners facing terrifying underground accidents for the first time. Arnold may have been grateful his role did not involve working the dusty coal face, but as one of the men responsible for keeping the tunnels open, he could expect to be called to dig out rock from the cave-ins.

"After some months, the family I stayed with had allowed my wife to come and stay with me. I remember the one day I had left as usual at 10 o'clock and by 12 the next day I had still not come home which left her incredibly worried.

"There had been a tremendous roof fall not long after I had arrived. It was incredible, if you looked up all you could see was the vast black hole above and we had to work around the clock to try and clear it. You had to work quickly, but you were never sure if the rest of it was going to come crashing down."

Despite the risk involved, Arnold said he preferred his work to the unfortunate souls sent to work the coalface, unprepared for the explosions and thick choking dust of the mine's outer reaches.Conscripts received helmets and steel-capped safety boots but most had to wear whatever clothes they already owned. In some places, being of military age but without a uniform led them to be questioned by police, while there was also a popular misconception that the Bevin Boys were conscientious objectors, as this was where a number were sent, making them unpopular with the families of those fighting.

Arnold says luckily he did not encounter much of this kind of attitude, partly because the area was so used to miners that its inhabitants were among the few who realised what the conscripts faced underground.As time went on and Arnold and his intake gradually grew to know the mines and become proficient and familiar with their workings, he says it was strange to see the new raw recruits arrive at the bottom of the mine shaft with that same expression of fear and awe on their faces, realising that he and the others had become the 'old hands' helping them learn the ropes.

Arnold's time as a Bevin Boy was brought to an abrupt end 18 months later, by a medical discharge: "I remember being sent to see the doctor, who thumped my back at which point I nearly fainted. He just said, 'well, you're not faking it' and that was it. There was no compensation, no-one you could see about it, you were just out."

The Bevin Boy programme was wound up in 1948. The men received no medals and unlike the armed services did not have the right to return to the jobs they had left at the start of the war.To add insult to injury, the men were not even fully recognised as contributors to the war effort until 1995, 50 years after VE Day. After a further ten years, Prime minister Tony Blair the conscripts would each receive a Veteran's Badge to honour their efforts, but Arnold says he considers the tiny cheap-looking pin he received, depicting an incorrect drawing of a winding gear, an embarrassment and an insult.

As the soldiers returned home to medals and a heroes welcome, thousands of Bevin Boys finally emerged from the darkness of the mines, with no medals or uniforms to prove they had taken any part in the war effort.

Only now have we really come to understand just how important their role was and that without the coal they mined and the energy they produced, Britain would have been lost long before the war could be won.

A Ship Called Oswestry - Part 3

2009-06-26T14:19:00.015+01:00

IN THE final piece of our three part series, we look at the last of the ships to have carried the name ‘Oswestry’, starring on screen in a 1950s blockbuster, and we see how the demise of a earlier vessel in the 1800s gave rise to an incredible act of heroism.

Part Three: Tiger Bay
THE last of the ships to bear the name Oswestry Grange made the most of peace time, but found fame and stardom in the 1958 film Tiger Bay.

“Oswestry Grange was the third ship of that name, a Doxford of 13,390 deadweight and relatively modern,” says Oswestry’s radio officer, Barry Johnson, who has fond memories of his days onboard. “She was built in 1952 and I remember seeing her again in Buenos Aires in 1966.

“I was Second Radio Officer aboard the Oswestry, which sailed regularly between the UK and the River Plate. At the beginning of October, we were in Avonmouth, when the Tiger Bay cast and crew came aboard to film the dock scenes, which were supposed to be in Barry.
“The ship’s name was over-painted with the name La Poloma, and the white Maltese Cross on the funnel was transformed into a white square, but when we sailed, we still had to have our correct ship’s name painted on boards, which were suspended over the bows, and only removed when filming was taking place.
Still, our unique funnel must have caused a lot of puzzlement aboard other ships.”

(THE POLOMA CARACAS, WITH IT'S REAL NAME, OSWESTRY GRANGE, STILL JUST VISIBLE UNDERNEATH)

The BAFTA winning crime thriller Tiger Bay starred British actors John and Hayley Mills, who performed the film’s climactic ending onboard ship, including a leap from the deck into the Bristol Channel, as Barry recalls: “We sailed up and down the Bristol Channel for a few days, while filming John Mills’ arrival, as well as the chase and jump involving Hayley Mills’ character.

The jump was performed by a stunt
woman, who was very much bigger than Hayley. It was a cold day, and the Bristol Channel looked very uninviting, but the stunt girl was cheerful and unperturbed. Fortunately for her, only one take was needed!

“The film people, including John and Hayley Mills, were very friendly, but of course, we had no idea what it was all about. I didn’t manage to see the film until 1960 when I was serving with the Zim Israel line. It was shown in a cinema on Mount Carmel in Haifa and I’d expected to see myself in the scene where the ship was leaving Barry docks, but I’d ended up on the cutting room floor.”

The Grange vessels may have been the most famous ships to bear the town’s name, but they were not the first, however, with brief yet tantalising records of an earlier ship, back in the nineteenth century simply called Oswestry, stealing the prize for the earliest use of the name and enjoying one of the most heroic tales.
It was in 1888 that the Withy shipyards at Hartlepool produced the 300 foot long cargo ship Oswestry, owned by Sivewright Bacon and Co, which was destroyed 11years later in Ireland while en route to Manchester with a cargo of cotton, copper ingots, iron plates and Indian corn.
When the ship was wrecked in fog on March 3, 1899, on a rock pinnacle at a small bay north of Mizzen Head, local people rushed to the aid of Captain Wilson and his crew of 24, scaling the rocky outcrops to help the men to safety.
The ship’s engineer had been so badly injured that he could not make it up the rock face, the rescuers were at a loss and it seemed unlikely he would survive. It was
then however, that a local farmer arrived, picked the engineer up, put him across his
shoulders and proceeded to climb the rock face with the injured man on his back, in
an incredible feat of strength and courage.
The engineer made a full recovery and in the following years took gifts for the farmer each time he reached port as a mark of his gratitude.

The last of the Oswestry Granges is still in existence today and despite having enjoyed the most peaceful life of all the ships, has been well travelled, having changed hands no less than seven times, going by the names of Chelwood, Oswestry, Stenjohan, Gina T, El Billy, Gina T (again)and since 2001, Nadi. In fact, the name Oswestry was chosen by Houlder Brothers when the firm named their first ever fleet of ships, taking the letters of the company’s name and naming one ship after each, For the ‘O’ they chose Oswestry and while frustratingly there seems no record of why the town was so important to them, it must have been something significant to
have reused the name again and again.

CLICK HERE FOR PART ONE - The Oswestry Grange

CLICK HERE FOR PART TWO - The Rhodesian Prince

A Ship Called Oswestry - Part 2

2009-06-08T11:18:00.017+01:00

While the second ship to bear the name of Oswestry Grange may have been an adopted member of the family, it met with a similar end to its predecessor, falling foul of one of the most devastating convoy attacks of the Second World War... Convoy SLS 64.

Part Two: The Rhodesian Prince

AS THE first World War ended, the Houlder Brothers shipping company looked to replace the first Oswestry Grange, sunk in a U-boat attack. A new ship, The Rhodesian Prince, was bought and renamed to replace her, but less than four years after Oswestry’s name had been painted across her side, it would face an even more devastating attack than its predecessor.

It was 1937, some 20 years after the demise of the first Oswestry Grange that it’s replacement took to the Houlder supply routes, enjoying just four years of plain sailing. By late January in 1941, enough ships had assembled at Freetown in Sierra Leone, to make up a convoy, but from the outset things looked bleak.

Nineteen of the merchant ships were in such a poor state that they could not maintain the minimum convoy speed of nine knots, but worse still, the navy then announced they could not spare enough ships to escort them.

Convoy SL64 set sail for Liverpool, passing by the navy gunships in port as they headed out to sea, where the 19 slower vessels were soon left behind, leaving the remaining 28 ships to plough on with just a single ocean escort for defence.

A few days in, news reached the crew of Oswestry that convoy HG63, who had started out just a few days earlier, had been attacked. The German submarine U-37 and a squadron of Condor aircraft had sunk six of the ships and damaged a seventh, which had also later sunk, but just when the surviving vessels had thought the worst was over, a large unidentified destroyer had loomed onto the scene, sinking the defenceless Iceland.

The days that followed would have been agonising onboard Oswestry, whose 42 men knew they were being hunted and must have holding their breath as their convoy attempted to slip by unnoticed. Finally there was relief, when two days later on February 19, it seemed the navy had had a change of heart and come to their aid.

The convoy’s log entry read: “06:05 - The Margot sights strange Man o’ War” but it was then that the large unfamiliar ship on the horizon hoisted its battle ensign. It was the Admiral Hipper.

A steely 200m long metal giant, the Admiral Hipper was the first of it’s kind. A new class of German heavy cruiser, designed for the sole purpose of smashing allied supply lines. It was hailed as a new breed of merchant raider, but it’s first outing had not gone well, inflicting only minor damage before engine problems forced the metal monster to limp embarrassingly back to port for repairs. It had remained there for more than a month. Now, finally returned to sea, the Admiral Hipper was out to prove a point.

For Oswestry and the convoy, there was no chance of escape. More than 18,000 tons of German military might was bearing down on the convoy at 30knots. The Hipper carried a crew of 830 and was heavily armed with eight-inch guns as well as 21inch torpedoes, and it was just a few minutes before she was within range and brought her guns to bear.

The Hipper opened fire on the convoy from 3,000 yards. The convoy’s commodore immediately signalled for all ships to alter course, but in their haste the Margot and Blairatholl altered early. It was just what the Hipper had been waiting for and it attacked, destroying first the Warlaby, then the Derrynane, the Westbury, Perseus, Borgestad, Lornaston and finally the Oswestry Grange.

Three ships Derrynane, Borgestad and Lornaston attempted to fight back opening fire on the Hipper, the Borgestad even appearing to hit its control tower, but in return for their display of defiance, the official report describes the three ships as receiving “very heavy punishment.”

The Derrynane and Borgestad were sunk with all hands lost and the Lornaston left badly damaged as the Hipper turned it’s attention back to the merchant vessels, opening fire on the Margot, before the worsening weather came to the convoy’s salvation, forcing the cruiser to break off it’s attack.

Oswestry had been hit in the engine room on her port side, damaging her bridge and shelter deck.

The crew managed to launch the lifeboats and 37 survivors were picked up five hours later, but one boat had been damaged and capsised, drowning five crew. These men are commemorated at the Canadian Halifax Memorial, while George Medals were awarded to the ship’s British, Greek, and Norwegian captains.

It was a desperately sad end for the second Oswestry Grange, while the Hipper would go on to become known as a potent but temperamental killer, deadly at sea, but spending more and more time under repair.

Hitler would eventually become disillusioned with the Kriegsmarine surface fleet and after the Admiral Hipper was used, partly-repaired, to evacuate troops from the Eastern Front, it was scuttled in dock at the Kiel Deutsche Werke yards in 1945, before being broken for scrap in 1948.

CLICK HERE FOR PART ONE - The Oswestry Grange

CLICK HERE FOR PART THREE - Tiger Bay

A Ship Called Oswestry - Part 1

2009-05-29T10:14:00.009+01:00

Between 1902 and 1970 four ships criss-crossed the Atlantic, running the gauntlet of the allied supply lines in two world wars, ferrying passengers to Australia, bearing witness to the passing of New Zealand’s greatest leader and even taking a starring role in a Hollywood movie, before being sunk by German naval forces. What linked these ships was their name... Oswestry.

Part One: The Oswestry Grange

The first Oswestry Grange was one of two ships built by shipbuilders Workman Clark in 1902, more than 6,500 tons of steel, shaped into a single funnelled, four masted steamer, 450ft long and capable of 13knots and with accommodation for 39 passengers. Oswestry took her place on the Federal-Houlder-Shire Line service travelling from Britain to Australia and New Zealand.

It was a boon time for the service and as one of its flagships, Oswestry transported dignitaries including New Zealand’s greatest and longest serving prime minister, Richard John Seddon. It was just before setting foot on Oswestry in 1906, that Seddon returning from Australia, sent a famous telegram to the Victorian premier, “Just leaving for God’s own country,” he wrote. Seddon would never see New Zealand again, dying onboard ship the following day, but his description of the country has endured to this day.

In 1912 Houlder Bros disposed of most of their Australian trade and Oswestry was sold on to the Union Steamship Company of New Zealand as the freighter Roscommon. It was during this same period that German high command placed an order for a new batch of their feared U-boat submarines, and while Oswestry was put to work on the supply routes, U-53 was being quietly assembled in Germany’s Germaniawerft Kiel shipyard.
It was finally ready for launch on February 1, 1916 under the command of Hans Rose and would cross paths with Oswestry just once, but with deadly effect.

The sub soon developed a fearsome reputation. Germany had hoped to use submarines to slip supplies past the Allied blockades and had fitted out the weaponless Deutschland and Bremen subs to carry cargo. The ballast tanks of U-53 were specially adapted to carry extra fuel so it could escort the Bremen, but Lt Rose instead put this extra range to more devastating use, emerging unexpectedly just outside US territorial waters and sinking five ships in an attempt to intimidate the Americans. Meanwhile, the cargo carrying Bremen, departed for America, but disappeared en-route.

Early on the morning of August 21, Oswestry was one of 19 steamers attempting to slip unnoticed out of Northern Ireland’s Lough Swilly. It was a tense time, and the fleet began the long process of manouevering from single file into convoy formation, unaware of the submarine below stalking it’s prey. It took almost seven hours to move the convoy into position, but at 11.30am the formation was complete and with a sense of relief, the ships finally began to get under way.

Suddenly alarm bells rang out as the destroyers picked up three torpedoes, headed straight for the ships. There was no time to react. The first torpedo struck the Devonian at the head of her column, a second skimmed past the lucky Vasari just behind her, but the third of U-53’s torpedoes found its mark, striking the second ship on the portside column... Oswestry was hit!

The convoy’s Destroyers immediately launched a counter attack, protecting the stricken ships from further assault, but U-53 was gone, the assassin slipping silently back out into deep water and making good its escape. Five of Oswestry’s crew were killed in the attack, but miraculously, 80 made it to safety, abandoning ship and reaching land.

Captain Trant of The Devonian later spoke of the danger of assembling such long lines of vessels, sometimes up to 12miles in length: “The hours spent forming the convoy had given the submarine ample time to prepare for the attack,” he said, “resulting in the loss of two large and valuable merchant-vessels.” It was a sad end for the first ship to bear Oswestry’s name.

U-53 would prove to be one of the German’s most potent convoy killers, sinking almost 100 ships before it was eventually surrendered and broken up in 1918, but ironically, while the submarine’s earlier attack on a US port had succeeded in intimidating the Americans, it ultimately did not have the effect its commander had hoped.

The Americans had been surprised when the weaponless sub Deutschland slipped the British blockade and suddenly appeared in Baltimore with cargo to trade, but it was the devastating surprise attack by U-53 far beyond a U-boats’ normal range, that would spur the Americans to channel even greater resources into their naval forces.

CLICK HERE FOR PART TWO - The Rhodesian Prince

CLICK HERE FOR PART THREE - Tiger Bay

In the time it takes...

2009-03-05T15:05:00.000Z

"Of all that is written, I love only what a person has written in their own blood" Friedrich Nietzsche

CAN five minutes sat in a chair really change someone’s life forever? What if there was something you could do in that time that cost you nothing, but had the chance to save a person’s life.

Having had a successful bone marrow transplant last year, leukemia patient Ben Walters from Glyn Ceiriog organised a Bone Marrow Register clinic through the Anthony Nolan Trust, which saw around 50 people join the register, which searches to find matches for those needing a transplant.

Having heard how easy it was, I went along to the clinic held at Bellan House and, arriving early, was amazed to find a dozen others had beaten me to it and were already finished.

I spent a couple of minutes reading a leaflet and filling in the form, another minute to realise I had ticked a wrong box (I don’t remember being pregnant in the last six months) and then it was into a room where a nurse took a tiny blood sample... there was even tea and a biscuit!

So what happens now? Well, my blood sample is sent away for testing and a record of my bone marrow stored on the Bone Marrow Register. On average just one person in every thousand turns out to be a match, so the chances are I will never be called upon, but for those that are, all that is needed is a minor medical procedure requiring a few days off work.

The register includes potential donors from 18 to 40 years of age, but as Ben explained even people at the end of that range should not be put off: “The one and only match for me was a 39-year-old, which shows how important it is to join the register even if it’s only going to be for a year.

While donating is a relatively easy process for the donor, it’s a rough ride for the person waiting for it. After intensive chemotherapy to kill off their existing bone marrow the new cells are introduced.

Ben says he remembers seeing the tiny pack of blood arrive for his transplant and was shocked such a small amount could have such a life changing effect.Anonymous

Once his bone marrow was killed off, Ben had to remain in a completely sterile environment, as without his body’s normal defence even the smallest infection could have been disastrous: “You have basically wiped the slate clean, so since then I have had to have all the children’s immunisations again and have gone through all the childhood illnesses like chicken pox.”

Donors remain anonymous for two years, then – if they wish – have the chance to meet: “I really hope I do get to meet him, to say thank you and find out what made them join the register,” said Ben, “Having had the transplant I can’t join the register myself, so I want to do what I can to raise awareness, persuade others to join and increase the chance of finding a match.”

Just think, those five minutes in a chair will either be a few moments out of your day, or could be the most valuable thing you ever do in your life.

To find out more or to join the register visit www.anthonynolan.org.uk or phone 02072 841234.

Bowls Diaries

2008-08-14T12:44:00.000+01:00

THIS week I’ve been trying out a sport so radical that it once incurred the wrath of royalty, threatened the future of the British military and was ultimately banned by Parliament... bowls!

When it comes to crown green bowls I’m a complete beginner, but I happen to know a couple of people who have been pretty successful at the sport and one of them agreed to help me out.

Andy Knott has been playing bowls for 25 years, was last year’s CSSC Welsh Champion, and a semifinalist at the British CSSC finals in Blackpool. If anyone could get me bowling it would be him.

Lining up for my first effort I was sure there was nothing to it, just roll the ball somewhere near, easy! As my shot veered away to the other side of the green however, I could tell from Andy’s expression that even for a beginner this was not the best of starts... time to go back to basics!

The sport of bowls dates back to the 13th century, when even the royals were at it, but as the game grew in popularity, it was banned by Parliament, fearful it would lure people away from their archery practice so essential to the military.

Statutes forbidding bowls and other sports were put into place during the reigns of Edward III and Richard II, and even the name ‘bowls’ first appears in a law from 1511 in which Henry VIII proclaimed ‘labourers, apprentices, servants and the like are forbidden to play bowls at any time except Christmas - and then only in their master's house.’

Anyone caught playing bowls back then was liable to a fine of six shillings. I was afraid my bowling today was bad enough to warrant a spell in prison.

Starting out couldn’t be easier. A flat soled pair of shoes or trainers, a set of basic bowls (about £20 on ebay), then it’s off to your local club, in this case Whittington where they have teams of all ages competing at every level.

Getting kitted up might be easy enough, but there’s more to the game than I thought. I knew for example, that the bowls (or ‘woods’) are weighted to one side indicated by a coloured spot and curl in that direction, but even though you show your opponent which side you are using before you bowl, I still managed to forget on more than one occasion, my instructor watching patiently as the wood sailed merrily away in the opposite direction.

In my defence there’s a lot to think about, not least the dome shaped green, which I think is challenging enough, but combine it with the balls’ bias and all of a sudden it’s a whirlwind of lines and options, each requiring a different direction and accurate power. I’ve spent a lifetime in sports that require maximum power over short bursts, so the subtle finesse required for bowls proved a test all on its own.

It had been a long evening and I still hadn’t won a single point. Even with Andy deliberatly leaving me vast gaps to try and aim for, I either drew up short, or sent the ball sailing into the gutter. As the night drew in there was time for just one last effort.

“I’ve got my flat soled shoes, I’ve chosen to have the bias towards my thumbside, I’ve shown my opponent, I’ve picked out a line across the green, curling around the slope, I’ve carefully bowled out the yellow jack beyond the minimum 19metres and I’ve waited for it to stop... Here we go.”

I promptly send my first wood wildly off course, leaving Andy to put his effortlessly within a foot of the jack, but leaving me a hopeful gap.

“All I need to do is repeat the line and length of the jack and... hang on... no... I can’t believe it!.. It’s THERE!!”

The wood had stopped about 11inches from the jack and now there was just Andy’s last shot to go. I try to act casual, as though I’m not really bothered, while all the time willing him to trip over and wondering what the rules would say about tying an opponent’s shoelaces together.

If I’m honest I don’t think he had the heart to take that point away from me, his last wood stopping uncharacteristically short allowing me a tiny victory to take back home.

But that’s all it needs. It’s a frustrating sport, but quite compelling and even that one moment of luck was enough to make me want to try it again. Any ball game that can be banned by Parliament is alright with me!

When is the time?

2008-07-22T16:39:00.000+01:00

“When exactly do we go from being children to being just people? I do know it's not about turning a certain age or graduating from school. It happens when we’re not paying attention. We go from playing with our friends, to playing with our friends’ feelings.

"Without our knowledge or consent, childhood slips away in the night, and our innocence escapes us. And we wake up one morning to find we have become, who we are.” William Krudski

Hands up all those who feel older than they used to? Anyone? It’s something that’s been playing on my mind for a while now.

I look around at my friends, who are all starting to turn 30, and I don’t see the difference from when we were 11-years-old, going running or playing on our bikes, but do other people see us as older? I’m not sure it’s so straight forward as it used to be.

People’s fashions and tastes have changed so much. You think of the sixties, seventies and eighties and you thing of really bold images especially in the clothes people wore. You could see children of one era dressed very differently to their adults of another. Today the lines seem blurred. We are a mix and match decade of all the ones that went before, in clothes, music, architecture, everything! Even our politics seems generic.

Young people try to be older, old people try to be younger and we all get a bit lost in the middle.

Perhaps it’s not even as straightforward as that though.

My friends’ parents were married with children by 27 and for a long time that has been the norm, but I look at myself and my friends an I don’t see that happening anytime soon. It’s as though we’re the first generation to have been given the chance to keep hold of a large part of our childhood into our 20s, and are obviously in no hurry to give it up.

I look at those people from an older generation and it’s clear that they really are the same people underneath that they were in their 20s. In a way this period now for my generation should be the best time of all; young and energetic enough to do what we want, with the means at last to actually do it, without the responsibility that’s lying ahead of us, with some of our childhood dreams still intact.

It should be a magical time and perhaps a last chance to put any finishing touches to the blueprint of our lives.

We should be out there getting things done while we have the chance, not sitting here writing about it :) but I do like the thought that later in life I might be able to come back here, read my own thoughts and perhaps remember something of what it felt like to be in this time.

William Krudski says it best: “People say we’re growing up too fast. Sometimes they make it sound like it's our fault or at least, our choice, but how can we not? We feel invincible when we know so much. One thing I do know is that we're so eager to lose our innocence. And I wonder if one day we'll look back and wish we hadn't?"

Karate Diaries

2008-06-26T11:46:00.000+01:00

"Tell me and I will forget, show me and I may remember, involve me and I will understand" Chinese proverb

Well we're in the post-season now, so I'm enjoying a well earned break from basketball. To keep things interesting though I went along to the Gobowen Kempo Karate Club to write a feature on them, so here are by Karate Diaries!

- Border Counties Advertizer June 25, 2008 -

"It's not just fighting Dave!" Back at college my old Chinese room mate was the national Shaolin Kung Fu champion and used to get frustrated when I asked about his fights, insisting that was just one aspect of martial arts.

I always wondered if that was really true, so I jumped at the chance to train with the Gobowen Kempo Karate Club and find out for myself what it's all about.

Thanks to my size and a dose of diplomacy, I've always been pretty successful in avoiding fights, but you wonder what you would do if given no other option. Joining any new club feels a little strange, but the idea of voluntarily putting myself in that kind of situation felt very alien indeed.

Chief instructor, Adrian Davies, has run the non-profit making Gobowen Kempo Karate Club for more than 21 years and says he first tried martial arts after being set upon: "Afterwards I was looking for a way of defending myself, but I found much more than that."

After a warm up and stretch, which showed me how inflexible I am, it was on to basic skillsn and working in pairs to counter attacks and take the opponent to the ground. The group has people of all ages and abilities, from young beginners through to experienced members, all keen to pass on their skills, and all patient with their awkward newcomer.

We took it in turns, one person making five blocked attacking moves then stopping in their final position, The other person then looking at the best options of attack from where the pair had ended up: "It's teaching you to take in your situation, look at the options given to you, and choose your response," explained Adrian.

It was fascinating to watch students perform their katas, precisely practiced flowing movements, whose strange forms all have real applications: "They are like a catalogue of moves and options to chose from," Adrian told me, "but we teach students that the best option is not to be there at all, whether that means avoiding a blow or, better still, recognising a situation and avoiding it completely."

If avoidance is not an option then knowing even the basics of how to stand, fall and block an attack gives you a real feeling of confidence."It's more than just self defence though," says Adrian, "We come to study the martial art. There are many benefits such as improved fitness, balance, control, concentration, and, of course, the ability to defend yourself, but these are the by-products and the art is always the focus. If you become proficient at a martial art, you should become less likely to have to defend yourself in the first place."

He's clearly right. There was no macho aggressiveness from any of the students, all displaying a calm self-control, and a level of respect towards their instructor and each other that I've not encountered in any other sport.

With a history dating back to the Ming Dynasty, there's a depth to karate you don't get with many activities: "Karate is properly applied only in those rare situations in which one really must either down another or be downed by him," wrote one of its pioneers, Gichin Funakoshi, who said it should not be unusual for a student to use their karate perhaps only once in a lifetime, and that those who misused what they learned brought great dishonour upon themselves.

After some pad work, stretching, and a warm down, it was time to finish, each student bowing respectfully as they left. You can see karate has given the older ones a confidence that extends into the rest of their lives, while the youngest students' grins showed they had thoroughly enjoyed Adrian's coaching.

There are many different martial arts on offer around the Oswestry area and with styles ranging from the frenetic stick fighting of Kendo, to the gentle movements of Tai Chi, there is bound to be one that has what you're looking for.

As for me, I now understand a little better what my old room mate was trying to tell me, and have to agree, it really isn't all about fighting after all.

Lions win championship cup!

2008-05-20T02:24:00.000+01:00

NWBA Championship Cup Finals

Hope Lions 81 - Colwyn Bay Bulls 50

Having lost to the Bulls in our last two encounters, the most recent of which was by around 20 points only a few days before, this was going to be a tough one for the finals, but in our last game of the season we produced our best performance of the season.

Despite the nerves of the finals, everyone played relaxed and worked hard on defence. Our forward Titch was good as ever, Aziz Ibrahim lit up the scoreboard to get us a good lead, Max Gore was deadly from three point range (picking up the MVP award) and Rob Clarke was taking no prisoners on the inside!

Playing a Box-and-One defence meant I spent a happy 40 minutes keeping their main scorer off the ball or stopping him from shooting. It's more fun than it sounds and I he only managed to score two baskets past me during the game so it did the job.

Even though we ended the game so far in front, the little voice in the back of my head kept telling me we weren't so far ahead that they couldn't sweep back through if we fell apart. It's such a relief! Not just to win, but to play like we knew we should have been all season long... and the best bit is that the people playing for us on the day, should be the people who are playing for us next season, with one or two welcome additions.

It was one of those really nice days!... the sun was shining, we won the game, my mates came along to watch, we chilled out it in the afternoon, then went out for a meal and the cinema in the evening... and it was my birthday... it doesn't get much better than that! :)

My friends managed to get some video of the game, so big thanks to them for that and I'll see you all next season.

One last chance

2008-05-02T00:36:00.000+01:00

“If we have not achieved our early dreams, we must either find new ones or see what we can salvage from the old." Rosalynn Carter

We've been thrown a lifeline. While we have won just a handful of league games this season, we managed to win our cup matches, with one last win in the final-four over the Magic, sending us through to the NWBA Championship Cup Finals against the Colwyn Bay Bulls.

The Oswestry players on the Lions team, from left, Aziz Ibrahim, Max Gore, Rob

Clarke and David Lawson. Photo by Huw Davies, Border Counties Advertizer.

It was a hugely exciting semi-final and not one I think many of us expected to win. Aziz Ibrahim put in some great jump shooting and Max Gore was on target from three point range, while point guard Sam and forward Titch were going great guns as we pulled within three points in the last few minutes and went ahead with just a few seconds on the clock to win.

Since then, in a strange twist, our last league game of the season saw us playing the Colwyn Bay Bulls, the very same team we wil be facing in the finals of the cup... it didn't go to plan. We were behind early on, drew level and went in front at the half, then went behind again towards the end to lose by 16.

If I'm honest, I'm delighted we've salvaged at least a finals place from this mess of a season, but just think, if we can just hold together one more good performance, it could go from the worst of seasons to one of the best, just like that!

The final is on May 11 in Deeside, so we don't have to wait!

Getting it in the neck

2008-02-29T02:41:00.000Z

"Man is a goal seeking animal. His life only has meaning if he is reaching out and striving for his goals." Aristotle

Well, it shows you should be careful what you wish for... I said I wanted us to have more fun and guess what, we did. We played the Colwyn Bay Bulls, led right through the game and played some great fast paced flowing basketball along the way... until we got to the last few minutes, realised we were going to win and tried to run our offences... we lost by two baskets.

Even so it was so much fun to be playing well as a team. Even training last night was fun. It was as though it had never occurred to us we could play fast run-and-gun basketball until now and everyone was getting in on the act. I think much of the difference owed to the return from injury of point guard Sam for the game and Danny from the Raiders at training, but everyone else raised their game around them.

(If I don't mention Rob and Max's legendary blocks, I'll never hear the end of it:)

I felt bad for one of the Bulls' players. We went for the same ball early on, I'd caught him in the nose and was pretty disgusted to realise I'd ended up with a huge wet bogey on my finger! I went to take the lineout ball and surreptitiously wiped it onto the wall of the gym behind me to get rid of it... that's not the full story though...

Afterwards I saw the guy tending to himself in the mirror of the locker rooms, and discovered I had actually caught him in the neck and that thing I had wiped onto the wall of the gym was actually a lump of skin and flesh. Obviously I apologised, but I wonder if I should have told him where I had left that bit of his neck so he could have retrieved it!

One of my friends bought me a great basketball film called Crossover for Christmas. Watching it took me right back to being 11 or 12 and watching Michael Jordan videos for the first time.

It’s that childlike enthusiasm that best fuels the long hours spent in persuit of our dreams, but as we get older we look around and realise that the vast majority of us are not going to achieve what we set out to, and will have to find our own way of coming to terms with this.

“There is a tide in the affairs of men," wrote Shakespeare, "which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.” (I once heard the line and it has nagged at the back of my mind ever since whenever I think about skipping a session :)

It's all about taking the opportunities put before you and we all know he’s right, though ironically it’s something we probably only realise when the key chances of our lives have almost passed.

Even so, "a life bound in shallows and in miseries" sounds a bit harsh. When I think back to running races on the track, just one person can win, but does that make meaningless the tremendous journey the other competitiors followed to reach that point? Even for the one who wins, there will always be one more thing in their career they could have achieved.

I wonder then, if it’s not always about the big picture, but actually about the moments, and that when we come to add these together, our lives will have been more meaningful than we could possibly have imagined.

The FUNdamentals of basketball

2008-02-20T14:49:00.000Z

“They've just got to run up and down, open up the floor, use their athleticism and play some exciting basketball. It should be fun.” Mike D'Antoni

Writing again after a leave of absence it’s getting harder and harder to be excited about the matches and I don’t think it's just me.

I was in Chirk a few weeks back playing basketball on the outdoor court with a couple of friends and it was great fun ... roll back a week or so and we finished work, made the trek out to Llandudno, where we lost and then trekked back... it’s hard to find the joy in it.

Since I last wrote, the team has won a few, but lost a whole load more, and though we’re getting better, it’s just not happening fast enough. When you’re in a team made up of a group of old friends it’s a different feeling. The natural team spirit allows you to ride out the rough learning curve. I’m not saying our team aren’t friends, but as you see with professional football sides, if they get off to a good start the team spirit builds around that success. If they start with a string of losses however, the early shoots of that spirit get snuffed out before it has a chance to grow.

That kind of feeling lies heavily on a team and it’s a horrible suffocating feeling. Get off to an early lead in the game and the spirits rise expectantly, but hit the difficult patch in the game (and there always is one) and too easily the heads drop, as though it was only to be expected.

For me, I find the solution that works for me is to ignore the scoreboard completely (which has its down sides) but at least means you play each point for what it is, enjoy it and move. If you score or defend against them, great! If you miss or they score, it’s forgotten instantly, doesn’t matter - you’re already in the next point!

The sad part is that we’re moving in the right direction. Even the few characters I worried might pull the team apart have checked their attitude for the good of the squad and in little spells during the games you get glimpses of where the team is heading, surprising teams as we go on fast runs of points.

There’s not many games left in the season and strange as it sounds that’s almost a relief. Obviously we’re going to keep on working hard, trying to pick up game experience and wins, but if I’m honest I’m looking forward to putting this year behind us and putting in a proper off-season with the team so we can get ourselves into gear... something I just don’t think is going to happen going from game to game.

We’re all taking it seriously... but I think we need to find the fun in it again.

Jungle Diaries

2007-12-12T20:55:00.000Z

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and not, when I came to die, discover I had not lived." Henry David Thoreau

I've been lucky enough to spend the last week in the Belizian Jungle with the Welsh Guards, reporting on their jungle training. Here's my jungle diary

Tuesday 20 - Houston or bust

Twelve hours in the air followed by a fun night out in a Houston bar, which had a larger-than-life model of a shire horse in the middle of it?!. Amazed at how knowledgeable the Texans are about their politics (and about ours) and so passionate about it too... some are a little too passionate about it for me after 12 hours on a plane.

Wednesday 21 - A last bit of luxury

Four hours to Belize. Texas had been freezing in the morning so I'm still wearing a woolly jumper when the open the doors of the plane at Belize. Wham! The heat and humidity hits you like a wall and by the time I'm at the bottom of the steps my clothes are soaking. Short drive to Price Army barracks where we enjoy a meal, a dip in their pool and a bed in one of the officers huts. A last bit of luxury.

Belize is a strange place outside the camp, struggling to overcome problems with drugs and crime, with a woman murdered a short distance from the camp in the few hours we were there. That said, the Belizians are a very friendly, welcoming people, whose love of the British stems from the British army's support in the country's defence.

Thursday 22 - Into the jungle

It's the end of the monsoon season, but nobody has told the weather that. It's dry when I start walking towards the vehicle, I'm soaked by a rain storm by the time I get there, then it's gone again! It's so warm though, the rain is very comfortable and you're dry within a few minutes.

The journey is a long one. Along the way you can see the make up of the country, from the Afro-Caribbean community around Belize, to the fascinating Mennonites two thirds of the way along the route - living isolated lives that reject technology, then on into the jungle, where you find the Mayan people, descendants of the people who built huge stone temples in the jungle, before being forced out by the Spanish, returning back with a new mix of Mayan and Mexican.

Arrive at Augustine Camp on the edge of the jungle and are issued with our jungle equipment, including hammocks, ration packs, mosquito nets, ponchos, machetes, compasses, candles, water purifiers etc. Met up with Three Company in the admin area (just inside the jungle where they come to take on supplies and regroup, without leaving the jungle) Meet some great characters, among them an officer from the TA, who has a Phd from Oxford in Military History, specifically the 100 Years War and is able to give a fascinating take on the army and modern warfare. The guys give me a demonstration in how to set up my hammock (I think I'll be getting them to help me set it up on the first night).

Friday 23 - Jam Boys and Iron Men

Met up with Prince of Wales Company, the Jam Boys (given an extra serving of jam with their rations during the war as they were so tall). Returned to Three Company to set up hammock etc for the night (got a couple of lads to help to avoid spending the night on the floor) actually very comfortable.

Before it goes dark (about 4.30pm) we start a fire and get a crash course with our hexi-block stoves and 24hr ration packs... on tonight's menu is Ration Pack 'B', soup, beef stew and dumplings, chocolate pudding in chocolate sauce, oatmeal block, fruit biscuits, biscuit brownes, meat pate, chocolate, boiled sweets, chocolate drink, tea, coffee, stock drink, orange drink, chewing gum, waterproof matches, paper tissues and water puri tabs... I looked for the wine list, but it must have fallen out of mine!

It's pretty tasty stuff, though I can imagine after a month in the jungle it becomes a bit heavy, not surprising at around 6,000 calories a pack, but that's what you need out here, together with at least eight litres of water a day.

When it goes dark, you swing your torch away from the fire and back into the trees and for a split second you see tiny little green dots everywhere, as the torchlight picks up the eyes of the spiders watching you in the darkness... Think I'll check the the ropes on my hammock one last time!

Even in this more open edge of the jungle, the night time noises are wonderful. It's still hot, but I'm not muddy so it's just a case of undo the shirt, roll up the trousers, keep the boots on and lie back listening to the animal orchestra the other side of my mosquito net.

Saturday 24 - Soap and scorpions

Up early to meet Prince of Wales Company again in the jungle, then meet with Lt Col Richard Stanton to see the new Bowman communication system. Return to Augustine to talk to the support company. The chefs are amazing, really skilled guys with incredible imagination, who turn ration pack food into really tasty dishes. The one I spoke to here from Wrexham has cooked for royalty and at Jamie Oliver's 15 restaurant, while another I had met, was making chocolate balls by hand!

Came back to the lighter edge of the jungle to wait for another company, a family of enterprising Mayans, still living in the jungle, were making money selling drinks out of the back of their home. A guy ran up with a huge pack on his back and collapsed onto the stone bench next to us. Lying there with his eyes closed he began sniffing the air and his eyes suddenly shot open: "God, you smell fantastic!" he cried (I should point out that having not washed, or shaved in four days, we thought we were smelling anything but fantastic), "Wow. I haven't smelt soap in weeks," he said, almost sniffing the person sat next to him. It turned out he was one of the officers from the Advanced Jungle area and had just run 20km with pack in the mid day sun as training.

Over a drink he told us that on his first night he had made his way to the advanced jungle area and had been too exhausted to bother setting up his hammock, so decided to sleep under one of the Mayan's jungle thatch covers: "I was just falling asleep when a huge scorpion fell out of the leaves onto my chest," he said, "I wish I could say I didn't scream like a girl."

Travelled to the highest point on the surrounding hills where a fire watchtower has been built above the trees, giving the best and perhaps only view of the jungle... it's vast. All around is a shifting blanket of green, as though thrown over the landscape, with the small tree covered steep hills, sticking up from underneath it. Some parts are still charred and stripped bare, where areas were burned to kill off a beetle that threatened to destroy much of the jungle. It gives the place a split personality. One of the soldiers told me that these torched areas with their exposed red clay felt more like Kenya, while the outer reaches felt like dense British woodland and the innermost core, more like Vietnam.

Sunday 25 - Waterfalls and Kevlar

Up before dawn 4.30am. Three company are now 'tactical' so there's noise and light discipline and we follow them out of camp in silence.

Great morning watching them move into a position, set up a concealed 'harbour' area and send out reconnaissance groups, bringing back the information and building a stunning scale three-dimensional map model in the ground for them to plan their attack.

Went to the Thousand Foot Falls with Two Company for a much needed wash and a swim. It's an amazing place where the water flows in waterfalls from pool to pool right down the side of a mountain. Jumped straight in wearing my clothes... then jumped straight out again when I realised my notes were still in my pocket!

Get back out and my clothes are bone dry in under ten minutes. Back to Camp Augustine to be issued with body armour and helmets ready for Tuesday's live fire exercise, it's heavy stuff and the thought of carrying that, plus all the rest of the equipment the soldiers have, in the jungle heat, is daunting.

Monday 26 - Monkeys in the night time

Advanced Jungle, the deepest in we have been so far. It shows how dense the jungle is that you don't even know the lake is there until you're right on top of it. Arrived at dawn and watched as the huge dense banks of mist rolled down the valleys. Followed the soldiers down to the water where they did capsise drills, tipping over their craft then bobbing under it to reach the breathing space underneath.

Talked to one amazing young guy who, having almost drowned as a young boy, was terrified of the water and could not swim, but with the support of the others overcame this to complete the exercise.

Travelled out on the water to see some more of the area, the guy piloting our dingy had been out the day before looking for crocodiles and was disappointed to only find a few small ones... I was not so disappointed. Travelled further down the water to a huge dam built a few years ago. It was like something out of Lost, coming round a bend in the dense jungle, to be confronted with a wall of concrete.

Stayed deeper in the jungle near the Offensive Operations Area. Set up our hammocks early. Lost my bearings twice going to the toilet, emerging from the undergrowth somewhere unexpected... and that was in the day time!

Torrential rain. It's like the jungle floor, suddenly turns to liquid and flows away, taking with it any equipment not raised up on logs. Sat round the fire with the range guys, then off to the hammock. The noises here are even better, with hundreds more birds, insects and monkeys. Boots muddy so they're upside down on sticks to try and keep out the spiders.

Tuesday 27 - Indiana Lawson and Temples of Doom

A lie this morning until 5.30am. We followed Prince of Wales company as they entered the live fire range, simulating an attack on a jungle encampment. After the stealthy silence of the long jungle approach through deep mud, the contrast of the simulated mortar explosions and bursts of machine gun fire is fierce.

Camouflaged, covered in mud and sliding down the sloping jungle floor, the men were almost invisible, even from right on top of them and the accuracy of the machine guns, as they fell trees in a single burst is breathtaking. Live fire was fantastic, but for me the best part came afterwards. Already deep in the jungle, we were just 10 miles from the ancient Mayan city of Caracol and were given a couple of hours to explore its stone temples.

(The view of one of the smaller mounds from the top of the stone temple)

Approaching the site you round the final bend to be presented with vast stone temples rising high above the tree tops, but from down below the canopy is so dense you do not see them. It was phenomenal, with steep stone steps, tiny inner chambers where they found remains of the human sacrifices and other rooms only accessible by a small hole a few inches square.

The trees are so thick here that the city, which was home to around 110,000 people, having been discovered in the 1930s, was promptly lost again, reclaimed by the jungle and only rediscovered a few decades ago. They were a fascinating people, typically around 5ft 3ins tall and creators of incredible stone artwork and masks. More incredibly, the last of their cities was only abandoned in the 1700s... that's just 100years before my house was built!

Travelled back five hours out of the jungle all the way back to Price Barracks, had another much needed bath in a river on the way back (not having shaved to avoid infected cuts or washed to keep off mosquitoes). Headed out to a bars to celebrate our return. Towards the end of the evening, misread the signs at the end of a neon-lit corridor pointing to 'toilets' and 'tattoos' Went through the wrong one and nearly came back with an unexpected souvenir of my trip.

Wednesday 28 - Flight back

Belize Houston, Houston Gatwick, train Gatwick Reading, Reading Shrewsbury, Shrewsbury Gobowen, Gobwbowen Home... Back home within 24hours with a new found appreciation of toilets!

2007-12-02T23:51:00.001Z

Meeting your heroes

2007-11-12T13:02:00.004Z

"Without heroes, we are all plain people and don't know how far we can go." Bernard Malamud

Meeting heroes is a risky business, but who can resist when given the opportunity? I recently had the chance to meet and interview Peter Snow who I first remember from Tomorrow's World. Growing up without a dad, grandads or uncles around, television helped fill in the gaps, and for me like many others, Peter was everyone's favourite uncle, who over the years taught me about inventions, politics, lost civilizations and bygone battles.

He's a wonderful chap, every bit as warm and funny as you'd imagine, though much more calm and relaxed than people make him out to be. It really was great fun, but as I've promised to stop boring my friends with the story, here it is one last time. Thanks Peter!

- Mid Wales & Border Living / Border Counties Advertizer -

From Newsnight to Twentieth Century Battlefields, for more than 50 years, Peter Snow has been one of the most respected and recognisable faces on British television, taking time out from a hectic schedule to talk to Chief Reporter David Lawson.

“David, how wonderful! Delighted to meet you.” Peter Snow, bursting with enthusiasm is clearly enjoying himself as he comes off stage after his Battlefields lecture, the final event of this year’s Ludlow Festival.

Most will recognise Snow from BBC2’s Twentieth Century Battlefields, or remember his Newsnight and election broadcasts. As for me, having grown up watching Peter on shows like Tomorrow’s World, when I became a reporter I was determined to try and emulate that same style and energy in my own reports. It’s not often you get to meet your heroes, so I had jumped at the chance to meet him in person.

There aren’t many people who make me look small, but at a little under 6ft 6ins, Snow towers over the crowd gathered at the exit to Ludlow’s Assembly Rooms, telling him how much they enjoyed the evening. As they head home, Peter and I make for one of the nearby pubs and sit outside.

“So what did you think?” he beams keenly, eager for a second opinion, not that he need worry. After more than 50 years broadcasting from around the world, he’s a polished presenter and his latest Battlefields series has given him plenty to talk about: “They’re such pivotal events,” says Peter on people’s fascination with wars, “They’re moments when whole nations could have taken massively different paths, but of course the reason we find them so powerful is the human sacrifice involved.”

Focusing on this human element has been the job of his historian son Dan, and Peter tells me working alongside him has been one of the unexpected pleasures of a career, that taken the father-of-six from Diplomatic and Defence Correspondent for ITN, to BBC Newsnight presenter, alongside election broadcasts, Tomorrow’s World, a host of other programmes, a CBE... did I mention he survived a plane crash?

He was once even asked to audition for the role of James Bond, until he arrived at the studio and they realised how tall he was (“I always thought I’d have made a better Q”) and more recently learned he had a grown son living in France he had known nothing about, responding to the stunning news in typical Snow fashion: “It was a wonderful experience,” he said at the time, “I’ve got to know him very well. It was all very exciting!”

As well as his work on Radio Four, one of his most recent projects included being given the city of Pompeii to himself for a night to host the real-time history show 'Pompeii Live': "That was wonderful," he remembers, "Terribly frustraiting, because of course what we really wanted to show was the excavations, where as the authorities wanted us to promote their conservation work, but nevertheless a great experience."

His trademark over the years has been the use of cutting-edge computer graphics and the Battlefields series has been no exception. So what’s his latest invention? “...we created a map case which opens up to show moving troops, tanks and aircraft and shows an overview of the battle. There’s a huge amount of work involved,” enthuses Peter, “You’re constantly working with the graphics team to see what’s possible and what we can do next, it’s tremendously exciting.”

Swept along by his bouncing enthusiasm as Peter asks about my own reporting and talks eagerly about the sailing trip he’s planning to Canada, it’s impossible to believe he will be 70 next year, and even after a four hour drive from London, an energetic two hour lecture and a trawl around Ludlow with a young reporter, as we finish our drinks it’s me who is caught flagging first, trying to hide a yawn.

People warn that you shouldn’t meet your heroes, in case they disappoint you... but I think some people just need better heroes.

The Lion's Roar!

2007-11-07T16:05:00.000Z

“Things may come to those who wait ...but only the things left by those who hustle.” Abraham Lincoln

If we're honest, this was a team we should probably beat, but I'm not going to pretend there isn't something satisfying about going behind, summoning the effort to come roaring back, then winning the game at the buzzer... it's very Days of Thunder!

We beat Mold Wizards 76-78 away, but even I had a sneaky look at the scoreboard after the final buzzer - just to make sure - before I started cheering. With our slam dunk champ Titch out with surgery and another young shooter sidelined through injury it was just nice to have a core of players turn out, who had practised the plays together.

After two losses on the trot, coach Dan was anxious for us to get on track, and while we played far better in the opening stages, the missed shots and rusty mistakes meant we were a fair way back coming into the final quarter.

When you get into the last few minutes of a game and you're determined to keep fighting, you push and push until you’re sure your body can’t go any further, then something clicks. Your brain, realising you’re not going to listen to it, finally gives up and says to you: “Fine! I’ll turn the pain off, but I hope you know how much it’s gonna hurt after!”
From there it’s like a little dream world, where you’re aware your arms and legs are moving where they should, you’re just not sure who’s making them do it.
If you win, that’s great! Your brain is so busy cheering and dancing around with pom-poms that it forgets to turn the pain back on, at least until the next morning. Just don’t lose.... that's a whole adventure in pain!

This was a good blow out of the cobwebs. We went behind, got angry with ourselves for making stupid mistakes, then came back with so much momentum that it caught our opponents on the back foot and they couldn’t fight back. Some good defensive stops and a few three point daggers from point guard Sean and we were right back in it, winning by just two points.

It's just what we needed. Working hard through that huge and punishing loss last game was like folding steel, hammering it to make it strong. Coming through to win this week was like plunging that steel into cold water.... now what we need is that sharp cutting edge!

As for me, I'm still desperately frustrated with my shooting. I don't know if it's a timing thing or just bad positioning on my part, but whenever I get the ball I can almost always see a better pass than a shot open to me.

Perhaps I need to go to the other extreme and start putting too many shots up, in order to find that middle ground... Training tonight, so I'll give it a try and let you know how it goes!

A very long night

2007-10-26T11:45:00.000+01:00

“That's what learning is, after all; not whether we lose the game, but how we lose and how we've changed because of it and what we take away from it that we never had before, to apply to other games.” Richard Bach

There’s no escaping it, this was the biggest beating I’ve ever been on the end of, but I’ve felt far worse about much better scorelines before now.

We lost to Wirral Hornets by a whopping 128-48! But let’s be clear, these guys are 'National League' good and we knew before we started that it was going to be a long night.

When you’re playing against a much better side, the first few minutes hit you like a rush of cold water in the face as they race away and rack up the points. It's not pleasant. But then things settle down, you get into a rhythm and then you have a chance to take stock of what’s going on around you.

As we came into the last quarter I looked around and nobody’s head had dropped, nobody was sitting back and letting them walk over us. Of course no-one likes losing, but coming in for our last time-out there were still smiles among the players (no matter how wry), which is so important... it’s a game!, it’s supposed to be fun, especially at our level, and if you can’t find any fun in playing a game then there’s really no point to it.

I was massively impressed by our the guys who came off the bench and lifted our game, with the younger lads working hard right the way to the end. That’s such a key role. If you can do that, it inspires the people who have just sat down, who end up itching to get back on the court to try and match that determination.

Immediately after a loss like that, all you can think in terms of your own game is what you did or didn’t do that might have let the team down or could have helped (in my case shooting... again). Fortunately though, you are able to be objective about the other players and even with a few of our big guns missing, there was plenty to be pleased about.

Mike led from the front, our long range sniper Max was looks set to ignite from three point range at any second, and our former Warrior Rob Clarke put in some nice moves on the inside and judging by the amount of running he did is getting fitter and fitter... Though that may have been his shiny white new shoes, imported from America on the back of a unicorn and made of gold (...apparently).

At the end of the game, we had earned some respect from our opponents for fighting hard to the buzzer and walked off the court with our heads high, in fact my biggest concern was not the scoreline, but that one or two characters on the squad threaten to kill the team spirit we have been working so hard to build. There’s nothing gained by shouting criticisms at your own players in a game, especially at the younger guys who were doing such a good job.

The American writer Richard Bach once said, ‘it’s how we lose that’s important and how we’ve changed because of it...’ and I really did feel a change in us, as we each started to realise that the people around us were prepared to work hard for each other and wouldn’t give up.

Richard Bach went on to write that “in a strange way, losing is winning”... but sadly that’s just crap.

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Hope for the best

2007-10-17T14:08:00.000+01:00

“Commitment to the team - there is no such thing as in-between, you are either in or out!” (Pat Riley)

A new season, a new team, a new (slightly snug) kit, and hopefully a new improved Davey to go with it!

Well, sadly the Wrexham Raiders folded, with Hope Lions picking up the registrations of our battle-worn survivors. By the end of the year we had just five players struggling against teams with huge squads and endless benches of players, but fought our way through to third in the league, thanks largely to our captain Mike... it was like something out of The 300, I was exhausted by the end!

Having only started playing properly last year at the age of 27, there’s a nagging sense of urgency in the back of my mind, so the day after the season finished, I could be found in the gym and on the court, trying to push on and get ahead for this year. Hopefully it’s worked, the hours of shooting has made me more accurate (at least in practice) and I’m a stone heavier, so hopefully not as easy to push around as I was last year. I’ve also had great support from the nice people at the Sports Council who helped me out with equipment, as well as support from Joyce Barrow and the Wynnstay Coach House Gym who helped me out with free use of their equipment, which has been awesome and something I could have never afforded on my own.

We’ve had our first game with the Lions, who as well as picking up our registrations, also acquired a some really good players from the Apex and Shropshire Warriors sides, like Rob Clarke, Max Gore, Chris Jones and Aziz Ibraham. Mind you, after last year it feels so strange to back to training with a huge squad of players again!

I was chuffed to bits to be on the starting lineup for our opening game against Wirral Metros. Some of the new guns weren’t available, but even so we had a huge squad. Our starting five played well and got to a bit of a lead. The matches up to Christmas only count towards the cup seedings, so we can afford to try new things and get to know each other. We tried some different lineups and tactics... which as you can tell by the losing scoreline, didn’t work straight out of the box, but I thought was good for a first game shakedown.

Annoyingly I’m carrying an injury as my ankle is still not right. I went over on it the first day of preseason training with the Lions and though it’s got quite a bit better, it’s still painful and alarmingly... well... ‘crunchy!?’ I’ll give it a while longer, but it might yet need a trip to the quacks!

I do miss our old Raiders kit and if I’m honest I still miss being a Raider, but I really think we're going to come together as a unit at Hope. At the team shout at the beginning of the match, I’m sure I heard our old captain Mike whisper RAIDERS! instead of Lions... old habits!

I hope you like the new home for the blog. It’s got all the posts from last year here too and you can even leave me a message or comment by clicking below!

The Last Blog - The End of the Raiders (03.05.2007)

2007-09-28T16:19:00.000+01:00

"The Last Blog - The End of the Raiders"

Wrexham Raiders v Hope Lions
Welsh Basketball League

With Wrexham Raiders set to fold after after tonight following its financial problems, this was to be our last ever game together as a team... I don't remember ever wanting to win so badly.
We had the bare minimum five players compared to their full bench and while we got off to a good lead, we eventually tired and they pulled us back, going ahead at the half way point. We rallied in the third quarter then one of our guys injured his ankle, but stayed on to help out in defence.

Our tiny lead gradually began to evaporate as we moved into the last few minutes... each time one of their side fouled there was a huge relief as we got a quick breather. Looking at the others with a few minutes to go, I could see how much I wanted to win reflected straight back at me in their faces... we were only two points behind!... that was the last time I dared look at the scoreboard.

With the last few seconds counting down I got free on the right side of the court. A long and perfect pass from James our pointguard came straight to my hands at the half way line. (...Five... Four...) I steadied and took aim (..three... two...) up went the shot.... (..one...zero...)

It's funny how time slows down when you're waiting for something to happen. Like everyone else I was watching the ball sailing slowly through the air. For ages I was still thinking about the shot... you always wonder what taking those last second shots would feel like when you see them on TV, but you're never quite sure... As the ball eventually arced and started downwards though, all I cared about was where it was going to land...

'it's on target... the length looks good... flippin' eck it's going to go in!!'.... bang!.. the ball clips the back edge of the rim and bounces out.

It was absolutely silent. I didn't know how many points we had been behind, but I couldn't bear to look at the scoreboard... From half court it would have been a huge three pointer and the thought that we might have missed out on the win by one or two points was unbearable.

It wouldn't have mattered. In the end we were four points behind... but that didn't make me feel much better. We'd lost games before, but this was different. We'd lasted out a season, no-one thought we would complete and in our last game we'd finally produced a performance we were proud of... Everything, from the look on the others' faces to the blood soaking into my socks told me we'd done all we could... everyone had performed and even I had put up my best numbers of the season with 12 points, but it just hadn't been enough...

It's not all bad though. We finished third in the league and having been 45th in the rankings for scoring early on, I ended up 27th which was much higher than I expected.
Of the five of us left standing at the end of the season, our two juniors have been picked up by a national league side's academy which is great, and ironically this last game had been against the team who picked up the option of our registrations for next season. After the game they confirmed they wanted the rest of us to join them next season, which was a big relief and a nice way to finish.

Thanks for letting me bore you guys all season, and thanks too for the support... (one last time) Go Raiders!

Many thanks to sponsors Wynnstay Hotel and Oswestry & District Sports Council

2 wins, 6 points, 322 bruises (27.03.2007)

2007-09-28T16:17:00.000+01:00

The Adventures of Slam Dunk Davey

"Two wins, six points, 322 bruises"

Chester Filipinos 70, Wrexham Raiders 92
Welsh Basketball League

Wow those Filipino guys are wide!
Because of a querk in the fixtures, this game counted as two against a side we really should beat, but we hadn't pulled away after the first quarter and at the half way point they were three points in front, mainly beause of their huge number three who seemed to just bulldoze his way behind our zone defence.

After trying to make the zone defence work for three quarters and with the game still finely balanced, we changed and kept four men doing a zone defence, me staying one-on-one with the big fella and our point-guard James hanging back beyond the halfway line to stop them catching us on the break... They're not the tallest of people, but damn they're wide. I've still got the bruises from where the no.3 ran into me, backed into me and landed on me (I think he may have jumped up and down on me a few times as well for good measure), but it worked. James cut out their fast breaks, I managed to stop the big guy getting the ball so he only scored a couple and the other Raiders caught fire, scoring over 40 points in the last quarter.

Annoyingly the big guy camped out in our half looking for fast breaks, so I didn't get too near the basket in the second half and had to be content with another woeful six points!

If anyone wants a good laugh, I've borrowed a giant wooden Oscar from work which we had made for our Christmas parade float. I'm hoping this will give me a bit of practice at shooting over someone or cutting around them, but it don't half look silly playing against a giant gold Oscar behind an old cowshed...

...I found an old T shirt of Guy's in the shed so I've put that on it... it's very surreal. I thought of printing out a picture of Michael Jordan's face to put on it, but I'm worried being beaten at basketball by a piece of wood might be more than my already battered ego can stand.

Any idea's whose face I should use?

This is easier than boring my mates individually, but if you don't want it just email 'BLOG-OFF' to david.lawson @ nwn.co.uk

(C)2007 BASKETBALLBLOGS.ORG 27.03.2007

A Zen Guide to Basketball (20.03.2007)

2007-09-28T16:16:00.000+01:00

The Adventures of Slam Dunk Davey

"A zen guide to basketball"

Wrexham Raiders 76, Hope 70
Welsh Basketball League

I didn't realise I could get worse.... blimey! Forget 'stepping-up'... last night I'm not sure I even 'turned-up!'

We got the win and the others played really well... if you ignore our shooting (...which come to think of it is pretty important)

Big thanks for the advice people gave me, there was some really good stuff which I'll defintiely be using, though my favourite was my zen guide to basketball from Surfing Buddah Chris, which was actually really useful. I don't know what you've been smoking over there in Iraq matey, but If I can just master that levitation business, it'll be slam dunks all the way. Keep the advice coming, it's much appreciated.

Oh yes... the game...Tried putting up more shots, but they seemed so rushed that I don't think I actually scored a single point. To make matters worse, I was hitting shots from all over the court in the warm up, so they were epecting more than a big fat ZERO. In the last quarter when the game was close, I just put my energy into defending and rebounding to set the others up.

With such a small squad at the moment, our runthroughs are done against imaginary oponents and all the rest of my shooting is done without anyone infront of me... I need a plan to get more practice at being defended. The only positive was a new role in the centre of defence, where I was a little bit small, but quick enough to turn them over a few times.

This is easier than boring my mates individually, but if you don't want it just email 'BLOG-OFF' to david.lawson @ nwn.co.uk

(C)2007 BASKETBALLBLOGS.ORG 20.03.2007

At Last a Win (08.03.2007)

2007-09-28T16:15:00.000+01:00

The Adventures of Slam Dunk Davey

"Riding high on a one-game winning streak!"

Wrexham Raiders 79, Rhyl Pioneers 62
Welsh Basketball League

Phew... you could feel the relief at breaking the run of losses (we'd actually lost again since I last wrote), even against a team who were... well... a bit rubbish, but that made it even more important... if we'd lost to them that would have been bad! Still, it was only our defence that pulled us through, we're not exactly lighting up the scoreboard.
I could do with some advice from my sporty mates. I've hit a bit of a frustraiting period. With so many of our first teamers away, I've had a rare opportunity to see something of the court other than the bench, but the coach and captain have both had words with me, frustraited I'm not "stepping up" and scoring more points.

No-one can tell me how exactly you 'step-up' though. Despite working hard, I'm being swept along with the game rather than grabbing it by the scruff of the neck and have a real influence. It feels like there's a set of gears I'm not using and I've no idea how I get at them. Some of you guys must have come across something similar... send help!

This is easier than boring my mates individually, but if you don't want it just email 'BLOG-OFF' to david.lawson @ nwn.co.uk

(C)2007 BASKETBALLBLOGS.ORG 08.03.2007

I Spy Another Beating (23.02.2007)

2007-09-28T16:14:00.000+01:00

The Adventures of Slam Dunk Davey

"WANTED: 70's platform shoes (8inch high or over) suitable for basketball, ring Dave on 01691..."

Hope Lions 90 v Wrexham Raiders 82 Welsh Basketball League

I spy with my little eye, something that looks like another flippin' beating...!

With a couple of our Wrexham team's big name players back for this game I thought Big George and I were destined for the bench again and packed myself a cushion and a magazine, but surprisingly they let us start the game. Settled in with a couple of easy baskets and got into a nice rhythm, but old George was getting shoved around... I didn't even know you could move the guy without a forklift!

They brought us off after the first quarter off and replaced us with the big-guns, but for some reason things didn't click and the missed shots turned into turnovers. While we waited on the bench, George and I decided once we got back on, none of their team was going to touch the ball again - we were going to get to every rebound!

Okay so maybe we didn't get every rebound, but between us we dominated the boards at both ends, and ended up leading the game for rebounds. That meant the others could claw back the difference, but we ran out of time before we could catch them... I've decided losing sucks, so for Monday's game we're going to try winning instead.'

In other good news, had some sponsorship from the Sports Council who have paid for some new basketball shoes and moved up three places from 45th to 42nd in the league for scoring... at this rate should be in the top 25 by my 60th birthday!

This is easier than boring my mates individually, but if you don't want it just email 'BLOG-OFF' to david.lawson @ nwn.co.uk

(C)2007 BASKETBALLBLOGS.ORG 23.02.2007