PETER COOKE – Author and Publisher

If there’s one way of not getting too much exercise, it’s sitting at a computer writing. In the last five months in particular, I’ve spent a great deal of time doing just that. My second novel has been causing difficulties as I am weaving fictional characters into actual historical events. Finally about five weeks ago a number of issues were resolved and I began to write at a furious pace.  30,000 words now since I started.

The lack of exercise was becoming a problem.  I hate jogging and gyms with a great passion and although I have an exercise bike and do go on it from time to time, to be honest, it’s a bit boring. The solution came from an unlikely source, namely my local Morrison’s customer board. An advert for a swing dance class at a local Social club caught my eye. I should explain that I have been a huge fan of the big bands for as long as I can remember and grew up through the Rock era. To cut a long story short, my partner and I went along. After five, two-hour lessons, we’re really hooked. The class is great and a good place to meet people and enjoy music I like. Not to mention the fact that already I’m starting to feel a lot healthier.

The version of swing dance we go to is called Lindy Hop. This was developed in the 20’s and 30’s and has it’s roots in the charleston, blackbottom and other dances of the era. Jive, jitterbug and Rock are all versions of Lindy Hop. I’ve been amazed at the number of people involved and have just signed up for my next set of lessons. If you like this sort of thing,  there’s sure to be a class somewhere near.  Why not give it a go, it’s a great fun way to exercise.  More later.

Bedraggled and wet we arrived at Saint Fagans and The Old Post Office(see blogroll for link) just as the rain ceased and we saw our first bit of blue sky. It proved to be a good omen. We were given a warm and friendly welcome by Cressida Slater, the owner and shown to our rooms. The accommodation was of an extremely high standard and it was great to get out of our damp clothing and relax.

The meal that evening was one of the best I can ever remember (there are typical menus for you to drool over on the website). The staff were very friendly, professional and attentive. They have a small, but well chosen wine selection and we enjoyed an excellent Prosecco, which became a favourite of ours when we were in Venice researching my first book The Glass Dagger. After dinner we had a little stroll round the very picturesque village. We vowed to come back as soon as possible to explore further and visit the nearby National History Museum.
Chef and joint owner Simon Kealy, learned his trade under the watchful eye of Franco Taruschio, OBE, at the famous Walnut Tree Inn near Abergavenny that had two Michelin stars for most of his time there. Simon was formerly at the Millennium Centre and he and Cressida bought The Old Post Office about nine months ago. They have already built up a fine reputation for good food and accommodation and an article in Good Food Guide is in the offing for 2008. Well deserved in my opinion. Ann and I have no hesitation in recommending it to anyone looking for first class accommodation and food. Why not give it a try if you are looking for accommodation near Cardiff. I doubt you will be disappointed.

Last Thursday was my sister-in-law’s 60th birthday. John, her husband, had arranged a surprise party for her and managed to break precedent by keeping something from her for the first time in 30 years! My partner Ann had not been to Cardiff before, so on Saturday we set off to remedy the situation. Wales were playing Argentina at the Milennium Stadium, so we were advised to go to Cardiff Bay and avoid the city centre. ‘It’ll be absolutely heaving in the centre,’ said John and he was right.

The weather which had been poor, deteriorated rapidly and by the time we reached Cardiff Bay, it was absolutely teaming down. It was very windy too and we dashed into the nearby Visitors Centre to find out where we could go on a day like that. Having visited the Norwegian Church, now a cafe and art gallery, full of their excellent coffee and welsh cakes, we headed for the Millennium Centre nearby.

We arrived just in time to take one of the regular guided tours. I’d recommend it to anyone. Especially the Welsh, who I was told tend to take the centre a little for granted, being on their doorstep. The concert hall is magnificent and the acoustics amazing. They have gone to extraordinary lengths to ensure the acoustics are right for every type of event. For opera, the auditorium uses totally natural acoustics – no amplification. Because human bodies absorb sound, to ensure the acoustics stay the same, the unoccupied upturned seats have holes underneath. The sound goes through to be absorbed by the foam seat, imitating the amount absorbed if the seat was occupied.

The tour continued backstage and we began to appreciate the sheer scale of the place. It’s enormous. The dressing rooms were next on the list and our guide explained all the nuances of the way the lighting helped to get the artists stage makeup right. She also showed us a halter neckline, sequined dress to be worn by one of the performers. It was amazingly heavy. Ann commented she would have difficulty walking in it let alone perform opera!

To complete our tour, our guide explained how the designers came up with the very distinctive shape. It’s designed to follow the typical sweep of the Welsh hills. In fact the whole design is a celebration of Welshness. Very impressive.

Due to the barrage that was erected, the enclosed Cardiff bay is now a fresh water lake. The architects have gone to great lengths to show their green credentials, in the Millennium Centre and the Sennedd Building where the Welsh assembly meets.  They have solar panels to generate electricity; heat pumps removing heat from the air; collected rainwater for flushing toilets, very green indeed. They even collect debris that comes into the bay from the River Taff, with a special boat. About 700 tons a year comes down, 7o% of which is wood. This is chipped and used as biomass for the boilers.

Finally our tour was at an end and with the rain still persisting, we headed for the village of Saint Fagans, north of Cardiff and our overnight accommodation. See next post.

You’d think it would be quite an easy task to get someone to do a bit of gardening. Not a bit of it. I looked in yellow pages and made a list, easy I thought. A dozen phone calls later and a lot a wasted time waiting for people who never turned up, or didn’t ring back as promised, I turned to the local free paper. I spoke to a man who said he was interested and would visit at 2pm. Curbing my scepticism, I agreed to be there waiting. About 10 minutes before he was due, he rang to say he’d be about half an hour late. Fair enough. When he arrived more or less as promised, he looked around and said, ‘Sorry don’t do this sort of job, I’m more of a tree man. But I know a man who will!’ He rang him and the ‘man who will’ said he would come in about an hour. Very promising.

The ‘man who will’ arrived as arranged. Very good start. He turned out to be an Irish gentleman in his fifty’s. After a quick look round, surveying the weeding that hadn’t been done for weeks, he listened to my plea to get it done before the coffee morning an the Saturday and said, ‘Not a problem, sor, just you leave it to me. I can do it for sure by Saturday and it will be £260. Realising at once, that for that price he was planning for more than one day, I asked which days he would be coming. ‘Well, sor,’ he said scratching his head. ‘I would t’ink we can fit you in T’ursday afternoon.’

Wow! Even my maths told me that, at about 4 hours for an afternoon, this was sixty pounds plus an hour. When I told him that was rather a high rate, for an afternoon, he laughed. ‘Well bless you sor, there’s not just me, there’s two of us.’

I’m afraid I gave a rather disbelieving laugh and told him that was still thirty pounds an hour and I usually paid about ten. He just touched a knuckle to his forehead and said, ‘Well good luck to you sor.’ Then turning on his heel, strode off up the drive shaking his head sadly.

Being a cheap skate, bad knees and all, I tidied up myself with the help of a willing friend and made a donation to the coffee morning instead.