A letter to Mark Kermode

Dear Mark

I just finished reading your book 'The Good, the Bad and the Multiplex' and I really enjoyed it.  There were many things I agreed with you about, and a few things I didn't.

In no particular order here they are:

1) I really like the Lake House.  I didn't know it was based on a probably far superior foreign edition, so I took it on face value and really liked it.  But then I really like time travel stories, and I also really like Keanu Reeves.  I can't understand why people find him so dumb and wooden.  I think he's pretty convincing (please see Speed and the Matrix).

2) I feel exactly the same as you with regards to going abroad (or in fact anywhere).  Most places I've been to, I went because my wife thought it would be a good idea.  Although I feel out of my comfort zone when I'm in a foreign country, I do normally get a lot out of the experience.  Also, it's nice to listen to foreigners talking, as it's a lot more difficult to get wound up by other people's opinions, if you can't understand them.  French people for example, always sound very exotic, even if they're just talking about nipping out to buy some sugar.

3) You are pretty darned scathing about Michael Bay.  I agree the Transformer films (I've only seen the first one) are absolute garbage, but I did really enjoy The Rock and Armageddon.  Sometimes I don't want to think about stuff while I'm in the cinema, and the good guys being in orange jumpsuits and the bad guy being an asteroid helps to keep things nice and simple.  Also, there's a lot of humour in both, which makes it less dreary than it might otherwise be.  Oh, and some good actors.

4) I agree with what you said about film reviewing being very subjective, and also that the person that you are when you go see a certain film can really influence whether and how you enjoy it.  This has been true of most of the films I've seen in my life.  For example, when my wife and I found ourselves in central London on her 40th birthday looking for something to do in the evening, we thought we'd go to the Odeon Leicester Square as a treat.  But it was £15 to get in, and all they were showing was In the Valley of Elah, which I didn't really fancy anyway.  At those prices I'd have expected to sit next to Tommy Lee Jones himself.  I might even have insisted that he stump up the cost of the refreshments.

Anyway, completely by accident, we ended up finding the Prince Charles Cinema, which happened to be  showing 'Once'.  And it was only 2 quid each!  We saw this instead, and we loved it.  I particularly liked it that the ending wasn't all Hollywoodised and they didn't end up living happily ever after (at least not together).  At least some of the enjoyment derived from the film, was the unexpectedness (and cheapness) of it all.

5) I agree with you that there is very little choice at the Multiplex.  They often seem to have the same 2 or 3 big films showing in about 9 of the screens, and the rest of them are showing Vince Vaughns, Adam Sandlers or Kate Hudsons, films which are usually so bad (Wedding Crashers for example) that you can feel the minutes of your life positively being flushed down the toilet as you watch.  When you're wading through a turdfield like that it's a shame the lights aren't on, or you could while away the 90 minutes going through some coffin brochures, to minimise the admin for your relatives after you're gone.

6) I agree that 3-D is a complete waste of time.  I saw Avatar in it, and totally fell asleep (the love story sucks), I've accidentally seen a couple of other films in 3-D because when I arrived at the cinema, it wasn't showing in 2-D.  To paraphrase Jim Royle (who said widescreen is 'the same shite only wider'), I would like to advance the argument that '3-D is 'the same shite only nearer'.

I used to live in a caravan when I was younger (it's a long story, something to do with my dad dying) and I watched 'Some Like it Hot' and also 'Call Northside 777' on a teeny tiny black and white TV, which we used to run off a car battery.  As the battery ran out of charge, the picture used to get smaller.  But I can assure you, that even sitting in a caravan being bereaved and watching old black and white movies on a shrinking screen powered by a car battery was better than 'Avatar' in 3D.  Because those two shrinking black and whitey's held my attention, something Avatar totally failed to do.  I'm not saying I could have done any better.  I couldn't have knocked up something as good as that in my back garden, with a few tins of blue paint, a couple of trees and some tall people.  I'm sure it was technically very difficult.  But it's stories I'm interested in, not technology.

7) Finally, I also write film reviews sometimes, and in nature, they probably resemble more closely the ones you used to do as a child.  I doubt they have all of your five elements in.  Mostly it's still just about me. what I thought, and how I felt at the time.  Sometimes, you wouldn't have the faintest idea what the film was about, from one of my reviews.  But I love doing them, and one of the best bits is I usually make myself laugh.  As I often say, frequently after I've had a row with my wife, and we're not speaking, 'you're never lonely if you can make yourself laugh'.

So, in summary, thanks for the book, and keep doing the reviews.  Although I don't agree with you on everything, I like your honesty and enthusiasm.  Also, sometimes your reviews prevent me wasting time and money at the local multiplex seeing American romantic comedies, which has to be a good thing.

By the way, my local independent cinema is the Arc in Stockton.  I've seen some right garbage there, but also some real gems like Another Earth and Sound it Out.  So, if you're ever up here seeing a film, get in touch.  You can come round for tea.

Symmetry, Loss, Letting Go, Life of Pi, Inception and Deja Vu

I went to see the Life of Pi movie last night.  I went by myself which is just as well because it cost me £11.  This was partly because I didn't want to wait an extra half an hour to watch it in 2D.  This would have saved me £3.  I really wanted a coffee too, but that would have been another £3, so I decided to have the 3D instead of the hot milk.

Even the cheap seats at the cinema now cost around £8.  With prices as high as these, I might have to keep going to the cinema by myself.  There's a bit in Trading Places when the really mean Duke brothers give one of their staff a very small Christmas bonus, and he says 'Gee thanks, maybe I'll go to the cinema....by myself'.  Well, now it's not just poor domestic servants that have to go by themselves, the prices are almost reaching personal loan proportions.

In last night's case, going alone wasn't entirely to do with the cost.  Ruth thought the book was garbage, so she didn't want to see the garbage film that went with it.

It was either 10 or 11 years ago that I read the book, I'm not sure which, but one thing I do know is that I read it over Christmas Day and Boxing Day, so going to see the film on Boxing Day had a nice symmetry to it.  I'm a big fan of symmetry.  Earlier in the year I took great delight in going to see Total Recall aged 44, 22 years after going to see the original when I was myself 22.  For good measure I took my 22 year old stepson with me to see the remake.  Numerologists could have a field day with that one.  The only problem being that the remake seemed to have been hit by the recession and instead of going to Mars they had to tunnel to Australia instead.  I was blown away by the special effects of the Arnie original but the Farrell affair just made me want to go to sleep.

Anyway, the film of 'Life of Pi' was pretty good, in places it looked stunning, but overall I think I preferred the experience of reading the book.  In the film, I could have done without the boat, and the phosphorescence, and the special effects and all the jazzy stuff they can do with computers now, the most compelling parts were listening to the older Pi talking.  In fact, I would have probably enjoyed it more, if it was just him talking.

Looking at it from a selfish point of view, it's possible I just didn't actually need this film to be made.  For me the experience of reading the book was such a rich and imaginative experience, that I already had all of it, and more, in my head.

There were times when I found the film very moving, and mostly these parts were created by a man sitting in a room talking to another man and recollecting stories from the past.  There was a point near the end, when I nearly started crying, but I managed to suppress it, because I didn't want anyone else to hear.  I was already wearing stupid 3D glasses over my own, I couldn't cope with any more embarrassment..

The part that got to me was when the older Pi was talking about the point where he and Richard Parker went their separate ways, and he said something like this, which I am paraphrasing terribly.  'Life is all about letting go, but what hurts is when there is no pause, no time to share what we've been through together, no time to acknowledge the passing, before we part'.  He was talking about the tiger, but also about his family, who were lost in the shipwreck.  This is maybe why it's so important for people to be with their loved ones, as they die.  Just to be aware of the process of letting go.

One of the things I love about the film Inception is the part where Leo finally realises that he has to let his wife go, and move on.  He finally accepts that they had their time, but now he has to go.  He has to move forward, and be with his children in the future.

And thinking about the subject of loss reminded me of another of my favourite films.  Deja Vu.  In that Denzel says 'Everything you have you lose', and although it's never explicitly stated, it seems likely that the family he no longer has, were lost in a terrorist attack, which partly explains his determination to change the past.  He makes a comment along the lines of 'loved ones gone in an instant', and his suffering is very much like that of Pi in Life of Pi, whose family are lost very suddenly and without warning.  This must be the hardest loss of all to take.  As miserable as losing someone to an illness is, at least you get used to their absence in increments.  It doesn't just go from all to nothing.

When I read Life of Pi, one of the parts I enjoyed the most were the descriptions of animals, and their behaviours, and this had more resonance with me at the time than the human stuff.  But I think 10 years on, the parts that stuck with me from the film, were the human dramas.  The decision to sell the animals and move to Canada, which took the family away from their home and their country, and Pi away from his girlfriend, and then the loss of Pi's family in the shipwreck, and finally the bonding with, and then the loss of Richard Parker.

I usually find it quite annoying when people in the cinema start talking, just as the credits start to roll, about how the film of their favourite book, wasn't as good as they expected, and how they missed this bit out, or that part was too long, or about how Galadriel isn't as tall as I imagined etc..

But I think that almost happened to me yesterday.  Because I'd already seen the extended edition 10 years ago, in my own head.  And I loved it.

101 Places I went before I died

I've been working in a bookshop again these last few weeks.

One of the things that has always annoyed me about working in a bookshop is that series of books that give you a list of 1001 things to do before you die. 1001 places to go, 1001 movies to see, 1001 albums to listen to...blah, blah, blah, the list goes on.

The main problem I've got with these books is that 1001 of anything is just too many. I had a quick look through the 1001 places to go edition, and I think I'd been to about 20 of the places in it. And I'm 44! At this rate I'll be lucky to get to 50.

I think a much better title for a series of books would be '8 places to go before you die'. I think I could do 8. Even if I only did 1 a year, I could probably manage that before I kick the bucket.

Also, the other problem I've got with 1001 things to do blah blah blah is this: What if I do all these things, but I don't enjoy any of them, because I'm busy ticking them off my list? Earlier this year I was nearly trampled to death going up Helvellyn by a team of speed walkers in pink T-shirts, and although they were doing it for charity, their demeanour seemed to be 'Oh, let's do Helvellyn this morning and the Eiffel Tower this afternoon'. Whatever happened to pausing, and enjoying the moment?

And another thing. I sometimes think that some people only go to the places listed in 1001 things to do before you die books, so that they can sit behind me on the train and show off about it. The number of times I've sat within earshot of people on trains while they whine on about the places they've been to...it happened to me just last night, someone bleating on about paying 200 dollars for a helicopter ride round Manhattan...and also about getting two pairs of Manolo Blahniks at knockdown prices from some TKMaxx like outlet near Wall Street.

So, if I was going to write a book along these lines, the title might be this: 'Instead of trying to speedwalk yourself into oblivion trying to do 1001 things before you die, just pick 8 or 9 things, and take some time to bloody enjoy them'. Admittedly, this is not a very catchy title.

The other thing about setting yourself the goal of going to 1001 places in the future, is that it's just too much pressure. There's enough to do just thinking about what to eat, and keeping the kitchen tidy, and worrying about the fact that the felt has blown off the shed roof, without having to worry about scaling Kilimanjaro this week. And don't they know it's bloody Christmas, I haven't got time to be running up and down Sugarloaf Mountain. I've got sprouts to burn.

No, there's enough pressure on my time, without setting ridiculous goals. And I don't need to. I'm pretty old now, a large part of my life is already behind me thank God, and even without being particularly adventurous, I've actually been lucky enough to go to some fantastic places in my lifetime. So instead of setting goals for the future that require money and effort, I thought I might just take a look back at some of the places I've already been. That way, if I do drop dead before I go anywhere else, I'll be happy enough knowing I got about quite a bit while I was alive.

I definitely wouldn't be able to name 1001 places I went before I died, but I might be able to do 101, so here goes: It might take me some time to compile this, and I have to go out today, so you might need to come back to this. I might even add pictures to prove it at some point.

Some of the places are pretty touristy, and some are not: When I get round to it, I will try and put some description in for each of the places, in case you want to go there yourself. Alternatively, if I've previously written a long and detailed blog post about somewhere I've been, I will just put a link to that in, rather than trying to write it all again from scratch.

1) The Eiffel Tower
had a hot dog with mustard on which I nearly choked on.

2) The Berlin Wall
amazing, surreal, the strangest place I've ever been.

3) The Hydro-Electric Power Station at Pitlochry.
Not marked on the Sustrans map although the fish ladder next to it is.

4) The Taj Mahal
I got my polos stolen by the Indian Army, I got whistled at and I had to spend 12 hours in a taxi to get there.  But I got a free bottle of water! Not sure it was worth it.

5) Bruichladdich Mini-Market, Islay
A brilliant local shop, not just for local people.  They will serve you even if they're shut, and the locals who are only buying a frozen pizza will let you go first with your millions of things for making a meal in the youth hostel.

6) Scott's View (Scottish Borders, cycled there from Kelso in 2010)One of the best 10 minutes of my life up there, laughing with Ruth.  In the background you can see the Eildon Hills, which had been a regular presence on our first proper cycle tour in 2005.  Because I am very focused on schedules and time keeping and planning when we're on tour, I wouldn't let Ruth go into Kelso in 2005 because I didn't think we could afford the time.  Even though she didn't go on about it, I decided to take her back there in 2010 and we spent a weekend there, during which time we cycled leisurely up to Scott's View, which was something else we'd missed in 2005.  Even at our leisurely pace, and taking a full 6 days to cover 200 miles Newcastle to Edinburgh, this return trip made me realise how much you can still miss, even if you take things slowly.  Sometimes, especially going up hill, I feel like I am aware of every blade of grass, and I regularly feel like I get to know individual sheep, because it takes me so long to cycle past one, he ends up looking familiar by the time I get past him.

7) Rob Roy's Grave.  Balquhidder, Scotland.
It always makes me want to behave myself when I'm in Scotland, the thought that the ancestors of the B&B and teashop owners and my ancestors were probably trying to kill each other hundreds of years ago.  It makes me not want to start anything off again.

8) The William Wallace Statue (Dryburgh, Scotland).
I had a similar feeling of not wanting to provoke the Scottish while I was here.  We visited this statue whilst doing the 4 Abbeys Ride (Kelso, Melrose, Jedburgh, Dryburgh Abbeys) on the same weekend as riding up to Scott's View in 2010.  With the benefit of perspective I look almost the same size as Wallace in the first picture, but in the second one you can see that Ruth is very small (or is she just far away?).

9) Dortmund Square in Leeds
I used to meet people there, before people had mobile phones.  There's a big bronze German guy with a barrel there.  I went back to see him a year or so ago but some E-on bloke was trying to sell me electricity so I didn't hang about.  It's all because Leeds and Dortmund are twinned, and not only did I used to hang around near the barrel man, but I also once went to the Dortmunder Bierkeller to see John Otway play live.  I've never been a fan of live music or beer, so it wasn't the best night out I've ever had.

10) Leeds Square in Dortmund.
I had to go there, to complete the circle.  During my time in Duisburg I befriended a travel agent called  Britta Biernoth and she agreed to drive me from Duisburg to Dortmund to see the so-called Platz von Leeds.  It wasn't all that good to be honest, although it did have a red phone box, and I think she thought I was a bit nuts for wanting to go there.  I also stayed at her parent's house the night before coming home after my 3 months in Germany, and her mum gave me a lift to the bus station the day I left.  The car journey was interesting because on the way she was very precise in pointing out to me all the buildings that had been flattened by the Allied bombing in the Second World War.  To be honest, it was almost all of them. 

11) York Minster
This is somewhere I've been to a lot over the years.  It's so close to home I've actually cycled there on quite a few occasions.  This is me just before I set off on my bike ride from there to Durham Cathedral in 2011 (not as spectacular as it sounds as I did it over two days, with a sleep in my own bed in between).  One of the things I liked about York Minster is that it's much easier to visit than the Taj Mahal.  You can just walk right up to it, with a guidebook if you feel like it and nobody makes you go through your pockets first. 

12) Durham Cathedral.
This is the following day.  I spent so long worrying about the York to Ingleby Barwick part of the route that I forgot to find out how to get to Durham and I had to call Adam Slowcoach in as a local guide to get us there.  That's him on the left.

13) The cyclists' cafe in Elsdon, Northumberland.
This is basically some bloke's dining room, and if you need to use the toilet you have to nip up the stairs to the family bathroom.  I felt bad for interrupting his wife's knitting and TV watching to ask the way.

14) Kielder Water
On my 40th birthday, I had some pie and custard at the cafe there.  I don't have any digital photos of the occasion because even though we had a digital camera by then, my stepdaughter had taken it away with her and she didn't get back before we left on our trip.  This might have been a blessing in the long run, as I had some Neoprene cycling overshoes and some skinny lycra bottoms to cycle in at the time, which my brother said made me look like I was standing on two sticks that were melting.

15) The top of Helvellyn
scared myself half to death and ruined it for Ruth and Helen.

16) The Ajanta Hotel in Delhi
My little oasis in the middle of the craziness of India.  It was a long way to go just to have a curry and a few cocktails with Dean and Elsa, but in the end, it was worth it.

17) Neuschwannstein (the fairy tale castle from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang)
I haven't got any pictures of it, because all I took were pictures of the girls I went there with, I was only 15.

18) The campsite at Fionnphort, Isle of Mull.
what a beautiful place.

19) The scenic route to Salen from Pennyghael on the Isle of Mull.
One of the best roads I've ever ridden on, and we picked a beautiful day to do it.  Saw some sort of eagle, and then stopped at the Spar shop at Salen to top up on chocolate milk.  We won't see the like of those days again.

20) Lochranza, Isle of Arran
nice youth hostel which has a double room, also nice campsite, had a tour of the distllery even though I don't like whisky, a nice 1 mile straight bit of tarmac which is good for cycling along, but the place seems to shut on a Wednesday afternoon, so if you haven't brought any food, you might have to eat packet noodles, like we did.

21) The Mouseman Museum tea shop in Kilburn.
I would never pay a million pounds for a small chair, but they do really good coffee. some of the best I've had.

22) Costa Coffee in Northallerton.
I used to go there for a treat on long bike rides.  By the time I got there and had a bucket of milk and something almondy I knew I was almost home.

23) Lakshman Jhula Bridge, Rishikesh, India.
I crashed my bike trying to swerve round a monkey and somebody wanted to have their picture taken with me, even though I'm not famous, only white.

24) Venice
It's very quiet there, especially for a city, because they don't have cars making a racket, only boats.  I went in February and drank hot wine in St Mark's Square and ran around shooting people with a water pistol.  It was great.

25) Verona
I went there and had some pizza, and I found a scarf on the floor of the restaurant, which I kept.

26) The red light district in Hannover, Germany.
Some German friends of mine took me down there, and I saw some women in shop windows, but they all looked a bit full-on wearing lingeries and stuff, and I didn't feel comfortable, so I didn't get out of the car, and was glad when we drove off.

27) The English Garden, Munich, Germany.
More naked people than you could shake a stick at, and a naked guy who I called 'Dingly-dangly' who kept trying to get me to play badminton.  You could tell who the English were, we were all wearing clothes (except when my swimming trunks fell off in the river).

28) Bhandari Swiss Cottages, Rishikesh, India.
Run by some very funny Indians, many of whom were whacked out of their skull on drugs all the time, and mostly populated by Westerners dressed in carpets looking for the real India.  A monkey stole my garbage.

After 3 days of cycling from Delhi to Rishikesh and not seeing another white person, it was lovely to meet Lorna just round the corner from Bhandari Swiss Cottages.  When Dean and I told her we were finding India all a bit bonkers she gave us lots of encouragement, and advised us to 'Relax into our stress' and 'Go take a dip in the Ganges'. She wouldn't shake my hand because she was picking up garbage off the streets in plastic gloves, but I did track her down to Port Charlotte on Islay a few months later, and I finally got my handshake.  See 67) Port Charlotte.

29) Wembley Arena, London.
I took my first wife there, so she could be healed by a tele-evangelist.  It didn't work.

30) Palastampa Arena, Turin, Italy
I took my first wife there, so she could be healed by a tele-evangelist.  It didn't work.

31) Stewart's Park, Middlesbrough
I used to take my dog there, so he could chase squirrels.  He never caught one though, but he liked to run a lot.

32) The Pyrenees.
Went to the ski resort of Superbagneres and the town on Luchon, but it was in the summer so there wasn't any snow.  Could almost see Spain.

33) Carcassonne.
The city in France, not the board game.  Really enjoyed it until I heard some English people speaking, which ruined the moment.  French people's conversations always sound exotic, even if they're talking rubbish, I can't tell.

34) Tobermory.
This was the start of my world tour of places named after Wombles, although I've got a bit stalled since then, as I haven't got any immediate plans to go to Bulgaria or Orinoco.  I'd heard so much about Tobermory that it was actually a bit of a let down, partly because during almost our entire visit we were buttonholed by some old Scottish guy who kept advising us on how to knock people out who might want to mug us.  But still worth going.

35) Cheddar Gorge.
Rode up it after having a massive burger at an ex-rugby player's cafe.  I doubted some aspects of his story, if not all of it.

36) Osmotherley.
We've had some nice walks and bike rides round there, and some nice meals at the Three Tuns, and the public toilets are a marvel.  They usually have fresh flowers and thank you cards, and certificates and allsorts of stuff on the walls saying how great they are.

37) The Tan Hill Inn.
The highest pub in England.  It has lots of stuff behind the bar saying what a great pub it is.  I'm not so sure.

38) The Kirkstone Pass Inn.
The second highest pub in England.  One of the best welcomes we've ever had anywhere.  Miles better than the Tan Hill Inn.

39) Hartside.
I've cycled up it several times now, and I enjoy it every time.  It's not very steep and it's actually quite an easy ride up.  Nice view from the top, but the cafe's not up to much.  Also, it's usually full of coast to coasters.

40) Wells Cathedral.
I once went there with Ruth on Easter Sunday.  It snowed on the walk down there, and then the sun came out while we were inside and all the little bits of dust showed up in the sunlight, and it was beautiful.

41) Schwartz Brothers in Bath.
Best burgers ever.  Introduced to them in about 1987 by Paul Edgar.  Still as good 11 years later.  I hope they're still there next time I go back.

42) Glastonbury Tor.
Watching the sunset from up there, and shouting 'Hello' to people down below. Amazing.

43) Solva, Wales.
Did some Scottish country dancing and then went to a Swedish house.  In Wales.

44) Mevagissey Harbour, Cornwall.
Reading Murakami's Wild Sheep Chase and trying not to get hooked in the eye by Michael and his fishing rod.  When he eventually caught a fish, we suggested he threw it back, and he did, but like a javelin.  The fall probably killed it anyway.

45) Alnmouth.
Lots of happy memories there, too many to pick just one.  I've spent both a birthday and a wedding anniversary there.  The wedding anniversary was part way through our Newcastle to Edinburgh trip in 2005.  We stayed at Beaches, and we were so knocked out after our evening meal and the sea air, we were fast asleep by 8.40 pm.  If it hadn't been for the house cat dropping a dismembered bird on the floor at Ruth's side of the bed in the morning we probably never would have woken up.  We also stayed at Sefton House when it was still a B&B rather than a holiday cottage and Simone who owns it was always a fantastic host.  Also, when Beaches wasn't available, we've always had good food at the Red Lion.

46) Edinburgh
(or more specifically a hilltop several miles from Edinburgh, where we ate pies and sandwiches and saw the whole Firth of Forth spread out before us in the sunlight, viewed through some borrowed binoculars.

47) Glasgow
Being helped when lost by a man carrying some wrapping paper, and landing there by accident after getting back from India.  I've never been so pleased to hear a Scottish voice in my life.

48) The Isle of Lismore.
A long thin island with amazing views in all directions.  One of the best days out ever was had there in 2012.

49) Gurudwara Bangla Sahib Sikh Temple, New Delhi, India.
A lot more enjoyable and relaxing than the Taj Mahal, and a lot closer.

50) St Paul's Cathedral.
Very lovely views from the top, which I didn't get the best out of, because I was absolutely shaking with fear in case I fell off the top.

51) Trafalgar Square.
Having spent a lifetime watching people jumping in the fountain here and observing people on TV trying to climb on the lions and being wannabees on the fourth plinth, it felt positively historic to finally get there.

52) Machir Bay, Islay.
The day we found this deserted bay on the Atlantic Coast on the Isle of Islay, one of the best days ever.

53) Arnside.
Both the finish and the start of the two most epic bike rides I've ever done.  Spent some time there drinking energy drinks in the middle of the night and generally hanging around with some other middle aged men dressed in lycra with pictures of cartoons on.

54) Saltburn.
I felt pretty emotional arriving here in July 2010 after successfully leading a group of 14 cyclists across the country in style, wearing matching tops and only losing two of our number to accidental hospitalisations, thankfully neither of them fatal.  We also raised loads of money for the Great North Air Ambulance, although we did take a bit of a chunk out of the NHS's resources by having to call a couple of land ambulances out, but you can't have everything!

55) Padua, Italy.
The thing I remember most about our rugby tour there in 1987 was playing King of Boxer in the arcade and mostly losing to a guy called Brown Pants, and buying 30 flavours of ice cream from the ice cream parlour there.  Mostly up till then I'd felt blessed to even get Neopolitan.  The rugby was okay too, except for having to play on a half frozen pitch, and making a bit of a fool of myself giving an incoherent Rambo like speech after we got beaten in the first game.

56) Duisburg, Germany.
Living with the Parpath family and working at the local chemical plant.  I got my own room though, and I lost loads of weight by doing a manual job, walking a lot and mostly only eating at McDonalds for 3 months.  Unfortunately I managed to upset the father Horst with an ill-timed joke about chocolate spread and things were never the same after that.  During the time I was there my mum and brother visited and we went to Duisburg Zoo for the day.  It was there that I saw the saddest monkey I'd ever seen.  I know some animals must benefit from being in the zoo, but this little monkey just looked incredibly sad to be in a cage.  It wasn't till I went to the Taj Mahal earlier this year that I saw an even sadder monkey.  It was on a string and some Indian guy tried very hard to get me to have my picture taken with it while I was waiting to pay the tourist tax to get to Agra.  I tried to tell him I'd seen loads of monkeys in Rishikesh, and I already had some pictures of me and them (mostly with me looking wary due to not having had my full allocation of rabies shots), and those pictures were a lot more natural because wild monkeys just tend to do their own thing while the camera's rolling.  Eventually I said to the guy through the window 'Why don't you let him go?, he looks miserable', but he didn't take any notice.  I don't think he understood that if I did want a picture of me and a monkey, I wouldn't want one that looked suicidal spoiling the shot.

57) Lizard Point, Cornwall.
I don't really know why all the attention is focused on Land's End, because Lizard Point is actually the southernmost point of the UK (I think Land's End is the furthest south-west).  Had some tea and cake there in 2003, and it was very nice.

58) Poros, Greece.
A very small Greek Island with only one bus, where I got hideously sunburnt in 1982 after jumping off a pedalo, but I did see some topless women swimming in the sea and at age 14 that has got to be a good thing.

59) Zante, Greece.
I went there for my brother's wedding in 2008.  It all seemed a bit nuts to me to go all that way to get married (I got married within walking distance of home), but each to his own.  It was a very nice trip in the end.  Oh, and also it may have been the smartest I ever looked, so that in itself is a bonus.

60) St Francis Church, Ingleby Barwick.
Not only got married there, but set off on many bikes rides from there, some of them amongst the best bike rides ever.

61) Smithy House, Pennyghael, Isle of Mull.
A place recommended to us by some other cyclists as having the best scones on the island, Ruth and I stopped off here on our way back from Fionnphort to Craignure in May 2012 and had a lovely time chatting with the host, playing with his dogs and watching his ducks almost go under the wheels of the passing tourist coaches.  Lovely.

62) The Carpenters Arms, Felixkirk. Royal Wedding Day, 29th April 2011.
Burgers so big we could hardly walk out of there, about 20 side dishes and a ride through beautiful English villages in the sun all done up in bunting and having a great time celebrating the Royal Wedding.  Priceless.

63) Craignure on the Isle of Mull.
On a really hot day the big swing is a really great place to have a nap.  The campsite is pretty good all round, except the pitches are made of astroturf so you need a huge mallet to whack your tent pegs in with, and also we got eaten alive by midges.  It's also a very short walk to the lovely Craignure Inn, where we had some nice meals.

64) The Isle of Iona, Scotland.
We picked a beautiful day to go there, and I had some chocolate milk.

65) The Paps of Jura.
Ruth thought it was fairly infantile that I was consistently amused by the name of these hills, which are after all named after women's breasts but it didn't stop me saying it about a hundred times a day.  We didn't actually get onto the island of Jura but they were a constant presence on the horizon for the duration of our holiday on Islay, and I have to say they are very nice paps.

66) Aberfeldy, Scotland.
The best cullen skink I have ever tasted at the Black Watch Inn, and one of the best bed and breakfasts too, Balnearn House.  We got robes and everything.  The pub doesn't look  anything special at first, but the food and the welcome were both faultless.  And the young couple who ran the B&B were also lovely, leaving us with a really positive impression of the town.

67) Port Charlotte, Islay.
Really nice youth hostel run by the lovely Lorna and Karl, and enough wildlife within a mile of there that a 1 mile bike ride took us over an hour.  We kept stopping because there was so much to see (including Alpacas).

68) Portnahaven, Islay.
A beautiful little bay which was full of seals on the day we went there, the only break in the tranquility was the local sheepdog Len, who liked to bark at the seals to get them off his rocks.

69) Kildonan, Isle of Arran.
There's no nicer place to be on Arran when the weather's nice, although it's not so great in the wind and the rain.

70) Hotel Godawari, Roorkee, India.
Dean and I seemed to be the only guests and at first I thought our bikes were going to get stolen by a mob, but then I realised they were the staff.  The only time I can recall being served my evening meal by a man in an orange hoodie while a builder was knocking hell out of a doorframe next to me.  But the most amazing Paneer Butter Masala and Butter Naan I have ever had.  Left them a big tip, which they seemed to appreciate.

71) NH58. National Highway 58. Delhi to Rishikesh.
My first experience of cycling in India. Riding at right angles to 12 lanes of interstate highway traffic certainly brings you back to living in the moment. Once I realised that the only rules of the road are the ones you make up yourself, I really got into it. Also, by travelling slowly and passing through every village on the route, I saw a lot more of Uttar Pradesh than you see from the window of a tourist coach. Getting stared at all the time for 3 days was weird, although equally weird was people wanting to talk to me and shake my hand just because I was from England. Also, the only time I've ever encountered a road sign advising me to give way to elephants.  Didn't see any though, until we got back to Delhi that is, when there was one at the traffic lights.  In the city he seemed to be obeying the traffic laws.

72) The Palace of Versailles.
I went in the room where they signed the Armistice in 1918 to end the First World War.  Shame they didn't get round to it 4 years earlier.

73) The Louvre.
I saw the Mona Lisa although it was behind some glass for security.  It's much smaller than you might think (or was it far away?).

74) East Germany.
A country that doesn't exist anymore.  I only went through it on a bus, but I did get off to go to the toilet there at the services, and I got a stamp in my passport,

75) Silverdale.
I went on a holiday for under-privileged kids there in 1980.  Apart from what we travelled in, we weren't allowed to take any of our own clothes (we were just randomly given stuff out of a cupboard, so no-one was better than anyone else), we pretty much spent the entire two weeks running everywhere and playing 40 a side football, or playing cricket with half a bat.  Everyone got tonsilitis, but they still made us eat the really hard potatoes that we could hardly swallow, and we had to get bathed by the matron on a regular basis.  But it never did me any harm!

76) Buckingham Palace.
By some extreme good fortune, Ruth's friend Amanda used to live about a mile's walk from Buckingham Palace, and when we went to see her for Ruth's 40th we managed to see just about all the major landmarks of London.  Previously I'd only ever travelled to London to one of its airports or train stations, and so it was nice to finally get to be a tourist in my own capital city.

77) The Prince Charles Theatre, Leicester Square, London.
We nearly paid £15 each on Ruth's 40th birthday to see a Tommy Lee Jones film we didn't want to see at the Odeon Leicester Square, but couldn't face paying such exhorbitant prices, then just round the corner we found the Prince Charles Theatre, which was showing the film 'Once' for only £2 each.  Excellent.

78) The Arc de Triomphe, Paris.
Went up the top and had a look round Paris, but felt pretty nervous in case I fell off.

79) Notre Dame Cathedral.
Again had some problems with vertigo at the top, particularly when a French man tried to lift me up to get a better view and I thought he was going to chuck me off the top.

80) Cumberland Hotel, Alston.
After climbing Hartside there's no better place to end up than here.  Good food and drink and comfortable rooms.

81) Ballachulish, Scotland.
Beautiful views from here.  The 20 mile ride we did from here up to Glencoe and around Loch Leven, was one of our best bikes rides ever.  It actually took us two days to complete it because the first day we got caught in quite a scary shower, and I bravely, bravely ran away back to Port Appin to try again later.  Also, I saw Buzz Lightyear in the public toilets, but no-one ever believes that part.

The thing about mountains is, they're a bit like giants.  You have to show them proper respect, or they can totally smash your face in.  Especially when the weather turns nasty, I think it's best to run away.  You don't have to be up the top of one of them to get done in, just hanging around near the bottom can be pretty nasty.  That road around Loch Leven seemed to have a weather system all of its own.

82) The Tibbieshiels Inn and St Mary's Loch.
Had a lovely ride out to here from Moffat on a gorgeous Autumn Day.  We arrived at lunchtime and only wanted coffee and cake but the barmaid couldn't have been nicer, and we felt really at home there.

83) New Lanark.
World Heritage Site blah blah blah.  Almost froze to death attempting a bike ride from there when our map turned into a wet sail in the strong winds.  Had to follow a bus to get back when we lost all sense of direction.  I peed myself a bit, and I've never been so happy to see a Morrison's in my life as I think Ruth was about to expire from hypothermia.

84) The Arc, Stockton on Tees.
Seen some truly terrible films here, one that I didn't understand and some that were just plain awful, but it's so much nicer than going to the multiplex.  Also, saw Dara O'Briain here before he was a big star, and that was good too.

85) Port Appin.
Another lovely Scottish holiday spot.  Beautiful views and the gateway to the Isle of Lismore via the very small ferry.  However, we didn't bother with the very expensive seafood restaurant as it seemed to be about a million pounds for a main course.

86) Hannover, Germany.
Spent a fantastic 3 weeks there on a school exchange trip in 1985.  Saw Boris Becker win Wimbledon, played football against the German army, rode a bike while drunk and generally felt happy enough to die.  I only wish I'd been nicer to my host Sebastian, who I was a bit rude to at times, particularly regarding his fondness for Judas Priest.  And I wish I'd been more sympathetic after he ran through a glass door and got glass in his arm after his sister punched him following an argument about a borrowed music cassette.  But I was only 17 at the time.

87) Tarbert, Kintyre Peninsula, Scotland.
Possibly the best takeaway sandwiches I've ever had, but also the slowest service ever in the local Co-op from a man that appeared to be about a hundred years old.  This is the future I thought to myself, now that there aren't any pensions anymore.

88) The New Inn, Headingley, Leeds.
I used to do a lot of under-age drinking here while I was still at school, including celebrating the end of my O-Levels.  It had a lovely open fire, and because it was in a student area, we schoolchildren used to blend in quite well with the proper students.

89) Thorp Perrow Arboretum.
You wouldn't think a place with lots of trees would be all that interesting, but it's actually very nice.  The cafe isn't brilliant in terms of what it serves, but the outdoor seating area is absolutely lovely and very relaxing.  Also, we managed to incorporate this as a stop into lots of our long bike rides, including some of our century rides where it comes in at about 70 miles in.

90) Kirkby Fleetham.
This place has a great little shop that serves really good quiche, and I've often stopped there on long bike rides.  The last one I did we arrived there at about 4 in the afternoon and we were disappointed to find that the shop had closed at 1 pm but they heard us milling around and opened it for us anyway, which was lovely.  They also lent me some lubricant for my bottom bracket, even though I think they had to go and wake someone up to get it.  In addition, on one of our very wet century rides, this was the only place we went through where the sun came out.  A properly nice little village.

91) Kettlewell.
One of our favourite places in the Dales, particularly Sunters Cottage where we've stayed a couple of times and had a very happy and relaxing time.  Also, as well as being very picturesque, it's also a very compact village with the shop, the tea room and the 3 pubs all within walking distance of the cottage.

92) Bellingham, Northumberland.
The first time we arrived here by bike we camped and after our evening meal at the local pub we asked if they did coffee.  The publican just laughed.  We took that as a no.  The second time we stayed there was in a farmhouse B&B, and the couple who ran it were kind enough to take us to the pub and back in their car, to stop us getting wet.  The next morning when I woke up, it was my 40th birthday, and I saw a red squirrel out the window, and then rode on to Newcastleton, via Kielder.  The bit after Kielder we had a massive tailwind and we just laughed all the way.  One of the best days of my life, no doubt.

93) Kirkby Stephen.
We arrived in Kirkby Stephen one afternoon on our way to Appleby in 2007.  We hesitated about carrying on in the torrential rain but we thought we'd give it a go.  Thanks to my complete lack of navigational skills, one hour and 7 miles after leaving Kirkby Stephen, we ended up back in Kirkby Stephen after having gone in a circle.  We put up the tent, went to the pub and dripped dry all through our evening meal.  Some people in a camper van who saw us said we were lucky we didn't get to Appleby as they had just come from there, and the roads were like lakes.  By the morning the rains had eased and we made it to Appleby quite easily.  Sometimes there are advantages to being incompetent, you see.

94) Carrbridge, Scotland.
Stopped here on the way to Inverness in 2008, at a lovely B&B run by a lady called Shona and her small dog.  Carrbridge is famous for its old bridge which we saw too.  Amazing it hasn't fallen down really.

95) The Old Smithy Tearoom in Caldbeck.
Very sadly due to the ill health of the owners this place has now closed, but it was one of the few places I've been as a cyclist where you could get a big bowl of porridge to see you on your way.  A lot of places only seem to do snacks suitable for sparrows and old ladies so it was lovely to stop off here on our Reivers cycling holiday in 2008.  Shame it's not there anymore.

96) Robin Hood's Bay.
Our first attempt at cycle camping was our trip there in 2007.  We took the tent away on the back of the bikes for a one night stay only.  The 46 mile ride was bloody hilly, especially because some locals seemed to have nicked some of the signs so we went up and down the hills more than once.  What made it even nicer was that it was our wedding anniversary.

97) Holy Island (Lindisfarne), Northumberland.
I took Ruth there on sort of a first date in February 1998.  It was a lovely sunny day, and we got a free car parking ticket courtesy of someone who was leaving after 10 minutes 'because it was shut'.  What were they expecting, a theme park?  Then we went back to stay in a B&B there in 2005 as part of our first proper cycling tour.  Blasting across the causeway at 25 miles per hour plus without even trying because of a massive tailwind was one of the best cycling moments of my life.  The next morning wasn't so good though, as we grovelled off the island into the same wind at a speed not exceeding 5 miles an hour the whole way.  The B&B was okay but they served their meals with salad and peas, which I found confusing.

98) Jama Masjid Mosque, Delhi.
The biggest mosque in India.  The first time I almost relaxed when I was in India was when I was sitting outside here on the steps.  There were many families arriving who seemed to be on a pilgrimage there, and I enjoyed seeing their happiness and celebration as they arrived.  Unfortunately Dean managed to fall out with the small boy at the entrance over a 200 rupee charge for taking a camera in, and so we never saw inside.  Then I had a devastating loss of form in a urinal where you were supposed to kneel down, and after that we went on a terrifying rickshaw ride around Old Delhi, and I ended up getting delivered back to the Ajanta a couple of hours later a mere husk of a man.  Shame I never got to go in the mosque though.  It looks awesome, and probably as good as the Taj Mahal.

99) The National Gandhi Museum, Delhi.
Maybe it was the sign saying 'Violence is Suicide', or maybe it was just the release of all the stress of getting myself to India, but I felt very wobbly and emotional at the Gandhi museum.  I even cried a bit.  It probably didn't help that we arrived there by tuk-tuk.  It was my first experience of Delhi traffic, and within a few minutes, my initial fear just gave way to laughter, as it was too random for any rational analysis to deal with.
We made a friend too.

100) Essen, Germany.
I went to this city on a day off when I was working at the chemical plant in Duisburg, just to wander around a bit and explore somewhere new.  I was intrigued by a city whose name translated as 'Food'.  I no doubt went to the Macdonalds as I used to have almost all my meals there in Germany.

101) Rhandirmwyn, Wales.
Seems to be pronounced Randermoin or something, I'm not sure.  Had a rainy week in September in 2011 based at the campsite there.  There's a very reasonably priced shop and tea room at the top of the street, and the campsite owners let us leave our car there for a few days while we went touring.  We got as far as Devil's Bridge where Ruth and I inadvertedly lost each other for about 5 hours after a mix-up trying to buy meths from an old lady who seemed to think I wanted to drink it.  Also, Ruth made a faux pas by trying to talk rugby to some Welsh people.  But it was a good week and one night we stayed on a teeny tiny campsite on our own in the pitch black where I saw the best starry sky I've ever seen.  It hurt my neck to keep looking.

102) Home, especially coming home, after time away.
I don't think I've ever had a perfect home.  I've had good and bad times in all the places I've lived, but one of the best feelings in the world is arriving back at home after a trip, even a trip that you're sad has ended, and putting the kettle on, and ignoring the post, and any telephone messages, and just sitting down on your own sofa, and going to sleep again in your own bed.  And waking up the next morning, and being at home, and being glad.  And then possibly ordering fish and chips.  I remember coming home from 3 months in Germany in 1987, and being surprised that British rear number plates are yellow, because they're white in Germany, and I can remember my plane getting diverted to Glasgow on the way back from Delhi in February, and getting a bath in the Holiday Inn in Glasgow, but not wanting to be there, and wanting to get home, and leaving that room, and dragging my suitcase and my bike across Glasgow in the snow, and spending 3 hours on a train, just to be able to sleep in my own bed.

I don't think I could ever live like a nomad, moving on from place to place, and never having a base.  And despite the great good fortune I've had in going to the amazing places I've been, I knew that in the end, I could always come back home again afterwards.

When I was in India, I used to laugh at the Westerners dressed in carpets who were trying to find themselves.  When it was cold at 4 am in the morning, and I had to listen to my India playlist because I had trouble sleeping in the cold, I used to think of my friends and family back home.  And I used to reflect on the fact that:

I don't need to find myself, because I already know where I am.