Scarborough – Skat's Chat

Is ‘someone up there’ really looking down on me….?

It is a while since I have written a blog and that’s partly due to being busy with our new home, meeting new people, partly a lack of ‘inspiration’. Prompted by a note from Dr Michael Ward of Swansea University, who setup the CoronaDiaries Project of which mine is part, I did think about doing one more blog about the pandemic. The two-year anniversary of my first blog seemed a good time to revisit the topic. However, events of the 5th of March 2022 prevented me from writing that blog and are the inspiration for this one.

The simplest way to start is to reproduce the ‘incident report’ sent by Mark, one of the Run Directors (RD) of Delamere Parkrun, which I ran on that never-to-be-forgotten Saturday morning….

Ian Skaife collapsed around 1.2 miles into today’s run at around 9:15. He was immediately attended to by the following: June who was just in front of Ian and heard him fall, June’s partner Matthew, Nikki who was a little behind but did not see him fall. Nikki is a medical nurse (an unknown passing runner, not in Parkrun, who was also a doctor was in attendance and stayed until the paramedics arrived).

Around this time an unknown person called an ambulance.

Nikki reported there was no pulse and Ian was not breathing. Between herself and June and advice from the unknown doctor, they opened his airway and administered CPR for perhaps the next 15 minutes or so. Ian occasionally restarted breathing for a short while, but Nikki did not detect a pulse at any time she checked for one.

Shortly after the incident, perhaps at 9.20 the tail-walker (Liz) arrived who called the RD Andy. I was standing next to Andy when he received the call. At 9:22 I made a call to the Forestry Commission(FC) office. They collect the AED (Automatic External Defibrillator) and drove to the incident – the main FC contact on the day was Liam at Forestry England. I left on foot to the incident and was joined by marshal Katherine who is a medical doctor.

The FC team arrived at the incident at around 9:30 and on arrival immediately deployed the AED once. This was successful in initiating a pulse. Very shortly afterwards the paramedics arrived by which time Ian was conscious and had achieved some sort of satisfactory stability.

I arrived at the scene around 9:37 and called Ian’s ICE (In Case of Emergency number) from his wristband at 9:39. The ICE is his wife Alyson Skaife who informed me Ian was with his son, Mike Skaife (now at the finish), who Alyson then called. Mike appeared at the incident perhaps within 10 minutes.

By 9:50 Ian was on a stretcher, breathing himself and able to talk and knew where he was. The paramedics had been joined by air ambulance paramedics, though the helicopter had to land around a mile away (as we are in a forest).

At around 10:10 Ian left the immediate area in an ambulance to be taken to the helicopter which left with Ian around 10:25 for Stoke Trauma Unit.

Even now as I read the report it almost brings me to tears. I have no memory of the day other than arriving at Delamere and parking the car. I made it to the start where I met up with my son Michael. I can remember talking to a Crusader, a lady with a Superman top wearing a blue tutu and a couple of nuns! Alyson had to tell the nurse in A&E that I wasn’t hallucinating as the run was fancy dress to celebrate the 9th anniversary of Delamere Parkrun’s first event.

Mike had helped the paramedics get me into the air ambulance – apparently an older lady was nearly blown over after not getting out of the way as the helicopter took off from the crossroads where the traffic had been stopped. Alyson had been working at a pharmacy in Gobowen when she got the call from Mark and left immediately and drove to Mike’s in Northwich where they drove together to Stoke. It was the second time in almost 10 years that Alyson & Mike had sat in the family area of the hospital waiting to see if I made it. For those who don’t know what happened in 2012 you can read my blog from 2019.

https://skatchat.wordpress.com/2019/10/06/the-long-story/

I am relying on what Alyson & Mike have told me happened after leaving in the air ambulance as my next memory is waking up on Sunday morning in the Cardiac Care Unit (CCU). The junior doctor had written me a note telling me that I was in Stoke and they diagnosed that my heart stopped due to blocked artery and they had started me on some more medication. Alyson had written on the end of the note ‘Middlesbrough won 2-0’!
Back to A&E ‘Resus’ where I kept saying ‘Did I come in a helicopter? and Mike answered yes and I said ‘What a shame I missed that’. Over and over again! They decided to scan my brain for a head injury, but the image hadn’t changed since my last one in 2013. Alyson was pleased that I hadn’t been running in Oswestry as a) the defibrillator is not as close (note 9 April 2022 – having volunteered there yesterday I know this is not true as there is a portable one at the start), b) the ambulance service in rural Shropshire is not as responsive and c) they might have taken me to Shrewsbury Hospital which, although I wouldn’t have been in the recently sanctioned maternity unit, doesn’t have a good reputation. If they didn’t have my scan from 2012-13 goodness what they would have made of my slightly mushed brain!

Stoke is also where I had been diagnosed with angina in early 2021 so they were aware of that. I had been signed off after a ‘stress test’ in July when I went on the treadmill wired to an Electrocardiogram (ECG). Although I was due to have another test this coming July, as one of the A&E doctors remarked I had done my own stress test and failed spectacularly.
Alyson & Mike stayed with me until early evening and weren’t offered any drinks or food and didn’t want to leave me in case another doctor came with information. Eventually I was admitted to CCU and they sat with me there a while.

CCU is a ward of bays in a circle around a central nurses station. It is not a quiet place as we were all wired to heart monitors with electrodes attached to several sticky pads over our chests reporting to a central screen. Alarms were going off each time a lead came loose, and I was confused as I thought it was mine that was setting them off, so would try not to move. Also on my chest were two large sticky pads from the defibrillator used in the forest. The device made sleeping difficult but I was grateful just to be there. Alyson visited me later in the day and I started to learn more about what had happened.

Alyson and Michael had gone back for my car on Sunday morning as it was still parked at Delamere. Alyson parked outside the administration offices and saw Liam who had taken the AED and he was pleased to hear how well I was doing. He admitted than when he first got there and saw the medics working on me he didn’t think the ending would be good. Alyson thanked him on behalf of all of us, and only this week I emailed him to tell him how well I am doing. Often people who help others never find out what the outcome is, and that is a shame.

Alyson visited me later that day and brought my phone in so I was able to message friends and work colleagues to tell them what had happened to me. Mike was frustrated that only Alyson was allowed to visit me due to Covid-19 restrictions, and our other son David – who had been rowing with his club in Bath and left ready to come up when Alyson called him on the Saturday morning – had to make do with a Zoom update on the Sunday evening. Since the pandemic started we had been having a weekly call often with a short family quiz. I may have been able to join on my phone that evening, but was very tired and sore.

The soreness was something that, when the nurses asked me how I was feeling, I told them I was grateful for. It showed that Nikki, June and Matt and the unknown doctor had done a good job. A few weeks previously Alyson had attended a CPR and defibrillator use course, and told me that it was physically hard, and not something one person could do for more than a few minutes. Alyson had also text June & Nikki to thank them for what they had done. I sent an email to the ‘Core Team’ of volunteers at Delamere who I know well having volunteered there many times over the years. These ‘Hi-Viz Heroes’ as we call them in the Parkrun family are the reason events are free every week. I told them in the message that I was well and thanked them for what they had done.

On Monday Alyson came over in the afternoon but didn’t get to see me for long as I was taken down to what is called ‘The Lab’ to have a stent fitted. This was something that I had been due to have last July, but they decided my blood vessels were ‘perfect’. This time the situation had changed, so it was a case of putting one in to be sure. As it turned out my temperature was too high, so I was back on the ward after Alyson had left.

The next morning my temperature was fine and my bloods were ok, so I was back in the lab and this time the stent fitting was successful. As Dr Gunning my consultant said ‘that’s the plumbing sorted, all we need to do now is find a good electrician to sort you out…’. Alyson visited me later in the afternoon after tutoring pharmacy students at nearby Keele University. After getting up at 5am to travel there she said the work kept her busy, and took her mind off what was happening to me. She had also been very busy, as people often are when someone is in hospital, having to phone family and friends and taking calls from people asking how I was doing.

The ‘electrician’ turned out to be Dr Baynham who came to see me when Alyson visited on Wednesday, by which time I had been moved to a nicer room on a nearby ward. The room had been a ‘day room’ before the pandemic where patients could sit and watch TV and had panoramic views overlooking the helicopter landing site. It was converted to a 3-bed bay and was light and comfortable.

Dr Baynham said the plan was to give me an implantable cardioverter defibrillator (ICD) which would deliver a shock should my heart fail again. There were possible side effects such as infection, and it giving me a ‘shock’ when it wasn’t needed, but overall it seemed a good solution to my issue. I needed an app on my phone to send data from the ICD back to Stoke – Alyson was disappointed that it wouldn’t allow her to turn me off and on.

The procedure was planned for Friday afternoon confirmed at the ward round Friday morning. The device was fitted at about 3pm under a local anaesthetic. Due to the blood thinners I was on the surgeons struggled to get it under my collar bone in a ‘pocket’ they cut into my chest muscle, but eventually they managed. An X-Ray about two hours later confirmed it was in place with wires to my heart, and by 8pm my discharge letter and medicines were ready. Alyson came to pick me up and drove me home for 10pm. I slept in my own bed.

For the first few days home I was very sore and couldn’t sleep well on either side. This was both from the bruising to my chest and ribs from the CPR and the scar and the device under my left shoulder. I was also very weary from the whole thing, and this added to my ‘usual’ fatigue from the brain injury. I often have a short 40-minute nap during the day, but now needed one morning and afternoon. But it felt great to be home with Alyson.

The NHS had done an amazing job in the 5 days since I was admitted. I underwent two procedures, and the surgeon told me the ICD cost £30,000 (not sure if that is the cost of the device only or for the surgeons, operating theatre and nursing care). The care of all the nurses, doctors, pharmacists, physios, catering and cleaning teams was fantastic.

I sent WhatsApps to June and Nikki from Parkrun telling them that I was home and what had been done to me. I also said I was very grateful for the pain I had in my chest which showed that they did a great job! I said that without them I am certain that Alyson, Michael & David would be planning my funeral. Both sent gracious replies and June said although it was her slowest time for a Parkrun as they all took an hour and 14 minutes by the time they got back to the finish, ‘it would always be a personal best (PB) for a different reason..’ It had only been her 3rd run, and she nearly didn’t go, as it is her partner Matt who was the runner. I said that I hope that what happened wouldn’t put her off doing another!

The following weekend we had planned a trip to some cottages outside Scarborough in the north east where we have been many times. I felt strong enough to make the journey but as I can’t drive for 6 months Alyson had to do it all in our new all-electric car (the story of ‘range anxiety’ is for another blog!). We had planned to do the Parkrun at Whitby (Alyson is also a member of the ‘Parkrun Family, having done 35 since she took it up a couple of weeks before her 59th birthday). So at 9am on a Saturday two weeks after my incident the RD gave the usual pre-race briefing and when she mentioned that they had a defibrillator people start to laugh. Alyson shouted ‘It’s not funny! My husband needed one two weeks ago at a Parkrun!’ It went quiet and someone asked ‘Is he ok?‘ to which she replied ‘Yes, he’s over there watching the start..’.
Alyson enjoyed the run which was down a disused railway but reflected afterwards that the surface was hard paving, much less forgiving than the forest track at Delamere.

Last weekend we were also away at a large house with 18 of Alyson’s family and on Saturday morning a group of six went to Ross on Wye Parkrun. Five to run and me to watch. Alyson and Mike both ran in this one. However, this time no one laughed when the RD mentioned that they had one portable defibrillator at the start, and another was in the nearby sports centre. I was chatting to some other ‘tourists’ at the start, and one older guy from Leeds who, when he asked if I was running and I told him my story, announced ‘Oh I had one fitted 12 years ago and have run lots of times since including a few marathons.’
I have been told that I should be able to resume ‘normal exercise’ eventually, but am not sure I will ever do a marathon given the furthest I have ever run is several half-marathons and the last of those was the 2006 Great North Run! However, it gave me some hope.

I am not sure Alyson feels the same, but I have promised that I won’t go out on my own – as I had thought of doing the week before my incident when I fancied a quick jog up to the woods in our local area…

The final ‘twist’ to the story is that this weekend we celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary. We had booked a trip back to Paris to stay in the same hotel in the Place de La Sorbonne down from Notre Dame, where we went for our honeymoon and revisited on our 25th. There is a Parkrun close by and we had planned to do that one…it doesn’t bear thinking about what it would have been like if I suffered my cardiac arrest there – not with two failed O-Levels in French between us!

Something that Nikki replied after I shared the blog about my brain injury has stuck with me. She wrote ‘What an amazing story! I think someone up there is looking down on you!’ Another friend wrote ‘You know my thoughts on God, but you are a special case so I will pray for you’. A university friend who I will call Speed wrote ‘God clearly still has work for you to do! Thank God for all the prompt medical help you got.’

Even Alyson and her sister, neither of whom attend any church, in talking together when we were away in Ross on Wye concluded that God really didn’t want me joining him just now as that is twice I have tried and twice he has sent me back!

Since we moved from Crewe, a year ago this week, where I had been deeply involved at my local Methodist church and held various roles at circuit, district and attended the annual Methodist Conference, I have not found my ‘place’ in Oswestry. This is partly a deliberate choice as I wanted to take some ‘time out’ to discover the area and people. In September I met our local minister Rev Julia in her manse garden for a long chat. She was wonderful and encouraged me to work out what I wanted to do. This despite being very busy with pastoral care of 23 churches and knowing that, as in all places Methodist, there is a shortage of willing and experienced people for all the roles. The local churches have been very welcoming, despite numbers being down and attendance less during Covid. I have certainly not been to many services or joined local house/prayer groups, and even my attendance at the online Methodist Central Hall Westminster (MCHW) setup during ‘lockdown’ has been patchy.

Perhaps I am being given a ‘message’ through what has happened, and I definitely have more time to think things over, as I can’t just take myself out in my car without Alyson coming with me. I attended our annual ‘Covenant Service’ in January at which Methodists say a prayer which has these lines in it.

Your will, not mine be done in all things, wherever you may place me, in all that i do and in all that I may endure.
When there is work for me, and when there is none: When I am troubled and when I am at peace. Your will be done.
When I am disregarded: when I find fulfilment and when it is lacking;
The Methodist Worship Book P.288 (Modern Form)

The more traditional version is even more ‘stark’ with the lines ‘…Put me to doing, put me to suffering; let me be employed for you or laid aside for you..’

With all the cards. messages, calls and support I have had, I certainly don’t feel disregarded – quite the opposite. But in this season of Lent as we look towards the suffering of our Saviour Jesus on the cross, even though I am not doing a formal lent study, maybe I need to take some time to consider my place in the local area, my family and church, and commit to doing something positive.

I am definitely going to sign up for a CPR course and use myself as a living example of what can be done. I will commit to raising some funds or donating to any Parkruns who need to get a defibrillator. But beyond that I will try to find something in the coming months or years to take the place of the work I have done in the past for my local church and community.

I will continue to volunteer at Parkrun events and be a ‘Tail Walker’ who follows the slowest person so that no one ever finishes last. To be fair to the core Team at Delamere it might be some time before I turn up in my new branded orange Parkrun shirt – my old one having been sliced down the middle by the paramedics! And I will definitely update my ICE barcode wristband which currently says ‘ no medical conditions’!

Life & Death Part 2. Walking in the light, a life well lived, three orphans & time to move on…

Our mum used to say ‘..as Methodists we have faith and don’t believe in superstition’. We had no problem holding dad’s funeral on Friday 13th January. It turned out to be a day that started with a light covering of snow, but this didn’t settle and we were able to follow the hearse from Thornton Dale to the Crematorium in Scarborough. On the journey there, and also on our return, we saw a complete and very bright rainbow. Adam, our funeral director and fellow Methodist, commented – ‘Seeing a sign like that, makes you realise all will be well’.

Light also had a part to play the day dad died at the end of December. We had been staying for the week at a cottage on the North York Moors, with my wife’s family to celebrate Christmas. It was a beautiful spot with views over the hills & valleys of the moors. We enjoyed stunning sunrises and on many nights the sky was so clear we could see an endless canopy of stars. With the only artificial light from houses in the village and RAF Fylingdales early warning station, it was a ‘dark sky’ area.

sunrise-over-fylingdales-27-dec-2016 — Sunrise over Fylingdales 27 Dec 2016

stars-over-fylingale-27-dec-2016 — Stars over Fylingdales 27 Dec 2016

Dad was nearing death as the result of his Parkinson’s causing an inability to swallow two weeks’ previously. After a short spell in hospital – beside the crematorium that he would return to – dad was allowed to go back to his care home in Pickering for palliative care. Our cottage was only a 30 minute drive away, so we visited him several times. My younger brother, Andrew, and his family called in to see him on their way to relatives in the south.

The night before dad passed away I set off to drive the short journey, but a heavy fog had come down. It was obvious after taking 10 minutes to get less than a mile that it was a dangerous journey without streetlights or markings at the edge of the roads. A phone call to the home confirmed that it was they same there. I had already visited dad that morning and now he was settled down for a good night’s sleep. I returned to the cottage.

Next morning I woke up early; the fog had cleared and through the skylight a host of bright stars shone in. Lying in the quiet stillness I thought about dad and prayed to God that if it was His will then it was time to let go, and for dad to pass on to his next life. I also remembered my mum who had died four years ago of a sudden heart attack. Dad had missed her terribly and took about two years to get over his grief. Recently, in a cruel twist brought on by his dementia, dad had started asking us when we visited if we had seen mum, as she hadn’t been to visit him for a while. If we told dad the truth he looked shocked and said it was too much to bear. We decided not to lie but changed the subject and distracted him with something else.

As I got up and went down for breakfast, the sun was just coming up over Fylingdales and the sky was a beautiful pale orange colour. The air was still and a few tufts of high, white cloud were visible. Through the large glass kitchen doors overlooking the garden & fields of sheep, a tawny owl flew past slowly and gently settled out of sight among a clump of grasses. A rabbit hopped across the gravel driveway and under the wooden gate to the field. Four female pheasants came onto the lawn to feed on the breadcrumbs and nuts we had put out. A robin and sparrow sat on top of the wooden table where we had put the remaining food. The place was teeming with life and the beauty of nature.

There was no mobile phone signal so we had been using wi-fi and WhatsApp to communicate. We finished breakfast and were packing up to leave, as we were due out by 10am, when Anne Marie (the owner and nurse manager of the care home) sent me a message asking me to call on WhatsApp. I managed to speak to her long enough to tell me that dad had passed away a few minutes before. I heard her say it was peaceful then the signal went and I couldn’t phone back. Driving up the half mile farm track to the main road I managed to find a good signal to call Andrew. Anne Marie had called him already, and we shared a short silence and a sense of relief that it was over. I called the home to say I would visit after we left the cottage.

As I made the journey to Pickering the sun was rising higher against blue sky & reflecting off the rail tracks in the deep wooded valley of the preserved steam railway that curves through the moors. I passed the end of a narrow track off the road down which lie the ashes of dad’s brother and wife, overlooking the valley and the moors beyond.

The closer I got to town the fog, light at first, got thicker so that by the time I got to the care home it was dark, damp and cold. As Anne Marie took me to see dad she told me that she had checked on him at 25 to 9 and he was sleeping peacefully and five minutes later she came back and he had died. The night shift hourly care records all said ‘settled and sleeping quietly’. Dad’s earthly life had come to a peaceful and pain-free end. Anne Marie confided that when she awoke that morning she too had prayed the same words as me. When she had opened the window to ‘let his soul free’ as they do in many hospitals and care homes, I like to think that dad escaped the darkness of the town and soared up to see his brother and sister-in-law at that beautiful spot I passed on the way in. A place where the sky was blue, the sun shining and the birds singing. All would be stillness and peace.

Anne Marie gave me dad’s Bible to read whilst I sat with him. A bookmark was placed at the first chapter of John’s first letter; a section headed The Word of life, walking in the light.

God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth.
But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.

There was a Post-it note in dad’s writing of two other passages about faith and actions and helping those in need. A further bookmark was at Psalm 121 which we had used in mum’s service. It seemed that I had been given the readings and theme for dad’s service of remembrance.

Dad’s was the first dead body I have seen. When I kissed the top of his head it was cold, but holding his hand it was still warm. I sat quietly listening to the hymns which had been playing all week at his bedside. I cried a few tears, but the overwhelming feeling was one of gratefulness & peace.

I am usually a blubbering wreck at funerals, even for people I barely know and who have been ill for a long time. I was always amazed that the family could stay so calm. However, having spent two weeks planning the service and writing dad’s tribute, for the service back at Thornton Dale Chapel, after the shorter one at the crematorium, it seemed natural to be calm and speak joyfully of dad’s life of faith and service. We shared lots of stories and some jokes with his church friends and family from near and far. This continued over lunch afterwords.

I was given a book for Christmas written by one of my cousin’s friends Rosalind Bradley titled ‘A Matter of Life and Death’, consisting of 60 short passages by various people sharing their experiences of death. It asks us to treat death as a natural part of life. To think, talk and plan for it, so that when it comes – which it certainly will – we and those who know us can go through the process in a peaceful, ordered way. I have yet to finish it, but some useful words found already are;

Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come. Rabindranath Tagore.

Do not seek death. Death will find you. But seek the road which makes death a fulfilment. Dag Hammarskjold’s words as chosen by Arrchbishop Desmond Tutu in his foreword.

Our dead watch over us from inside our hearts. We talk to them, they talk to us, and their love and wisdom bless us. Rabbi Jonathan Wittenberg.

The picture at the start of this blog is we three brothers who can now be classed as orphans, standing next to ‘mum’s tree’ at Wilton in front of the small Anglican church. We buried mum’s ashes under a flowering cherry we bought to replace one that had died. The bungalow in the background was where mum & dad spent 24 years together in retirement. Mum loved her garden so now looks over that and the Wolds nearby. Dad will be joining mum in the spring. The photo was taken after the funeral service and the flowers are the cross from dad’s coffin and another wreath from our cousins (whose mum’s and dad’s ashes are in the valley overlooking the railway and moors near Fylingdales).

As we said at the end of dad’s tribute:

…we join our cousins in becoming ‘orphans’, we also join them as living testimony to the care and love of our parents.

The fact that we hopefully are contributing in a positive way to our local community and society, being aware of social injustice & poverty, the needs of our neighbours near and far, means we will continue to be a tribute to them.

And that love and care will continue as our families grow from one generation to the next.

We all need to move on to the next stage in our lives, to let go of, but not forget the past.

Experiences not ‘stuff’…three wishes achieved!

Around Easter Alyson & I went through the annual round of trying to decide what to buy each other for our upcoming birthdays. Perhaps it was the experience of clearing mum & dad’s house prior to selling it, which we had been doing for the previous 3 years; or maybe looking at the amount of ‘stuff’ we have accumulated in over 35 years of being together, but Alyson declared she didn’t want anything material. She had realised there is beauty all around in the natural world, and that the pressure of work and family means that free time is more precious than so-called ‘valuables’. Freedom to look around at the beauty in nature, or to sit and watch a glorious sunset, is priceless, with memories last much longer than material possessions.

Alyson has never had any interest in expensive jewellery or clothes, and can’t believe that anyone would even consider paying hundreds of pounds for a handbag. Sure we live in a large family home & have nice things; lots of ornaments, collectables, books and electronic gadgets. These things have a tendency to gather dust or become ‘unusable’ due to being superseded by the latest model. We are fortunate to have some savings and good pension arrangements, so holidays & travel are regularly on our agenda.

With these thoughts Alyson declared that this year she had three wishes.

To sleep in a windmill
To see a puffin.
To see a kingfisher

The windmill has been on the list for quite a few years, as every time we pass one Alyson declares a curiosity about what it would be like to stay in a dwelling with round rooms.

At Easter we were on our annual family weekend at a cottage near Bamburgh in Northumberland & Alyson took a particular interest in the sea birds, guided by ‘big Pete’, who volunteers at a nature reserve near his home. This led to the last two wishes.

As is the modern way I put ‘staying at a windmill’ into my search engine and one of the results that came up was The Windmill Hotel in Scarborough. Now, I have been visiting the Yorkshire seaside resort for over 50 years so dismissed this as ‘just a hotel’ with the name, perhaps because it was on the site of a former building. But no, it was somewhere that had rooms but with a couple of them in an actual windmill. I chose the apartment on the top two floors. The bedroom with en-suite on the lower floor and kitchen/living room above. It also had sails and a balcony which went the full 360 degrees. The stay was booked for the end of June.

Before then we made a return visit to Northumberland in May when the boat trips to the Farne Islands were running, we could land on one and get close to the nesting birds. Our first attempt was foiled not by bad weather but swelling seas. Our boat left Seahouses with a promise of landing on one of the islands manned by National Trust Rangers. The vessel Glad Tidings V was packed full of 60 people who seemed to be aged 55+ and from a coach party. We saw lots of birds nesting on the rock stacks and the largest of the 20+ islands, Inner Farne. We also saw grey seals bobbing around the boat looking at us with great interest. There were plenty of birds in the air; guillemots, razorbills, cormorants, shags and some puffins with their distinctive rapid-flapping flight, and a flash of orange bill. However, despite watching the boat ahead of us almost landing successfully, when it came to our turn the swell was too high to get us safely on and off the jetty. We made do with a tour round the other islands. Arctic tern pecked away at the ranger’s hat on Inner Farne as he came between the birds and their young. There were plenty of eider ducks or ”Cuddy’s ducks” as they are known locally, after St Cuthbert who set up a monastery on Holy Island (or Lindisfarne). We spent the afternoon watching small waders in the mud around the harbour as the tide was out and saw kittiwakes on a nearby cliff.

We decided to have one last go before we left, managing to get on one of the early morning boats. It had only six other people onboard and a cast-iron guaranteed landing on Staple Island, the National Trust run bird sanctuary. We did land and what a treat! Lots of time to wander on the rocks and grass, near ropes separating us from the nesting birds by only a few feet. They seemed oblivious to us as they had got used to the rangers being there alongside general visitors. This meant we saw literally hundreds of puffins close up as they came in and out of their underground burrows. So one line crossed off the wish-list. The photo below is one that Alyson took with my digital SLR camera.

We thoroughly enjoyed our time in Northumberland and I plan to post a blog devoted entirely to this beautiful county.

At the end of June Alyson’s recently changed work pattern meant that we had time for a long-weekend break, so we stopped at The Windmill in Scarborough for two nights. It exceeded all our expectations. The owners have done a great job in the 18 months since they took it over. They have developed it tastefully, added some home comforts and wi-fi whilst at the same time maintaining the character of the place. The balcony went all the way round and we had to walk under the sails. Admittedly the views were over the rooftops of the nearby houses towards the sea and hills. Someone on Trip Advisor wrote that it was in the ‘wrong place’ and views over hills and meadows would have been nicer. As the owner said in reply that was the case when it was built but, they can’t be held responsible for the decisions of local planners over the years to allow residential development! There have been windmills on the site for more than 400 years, with the present one originating from 1784. It was restored after becoming derelict for many years after it ground the last corn in 1927.

The accommodation was warm and the en-suite in the rounded room behind our bedroom was modern and comfortable. The wind rattled round it during the night due to being the highest building in the area, and I know it will be much colder and breezy in winter. The steps up to it are on the outside and could be treacherous if there was snow or ice on the ground. Breakfast was served in the reception area at the base of the windmill and the outbuildings serve as the other rooms of the hotel. The car park has ‘spaces’ for seven cars, but anything larger than a family saloon will struggle to park in them.

We enjoyed the break, going for a meal with Janice, our friend from university who trained with Alyson almost forty years ago now, and her partner Graham. Janice declared that despite living in Scarborough for many years she had always wanted to stay in the windmill, and now she had seen it they would definitely book it sometime. As a family we always enjoy stays in Scarborough, and I have been going there since I was about five. Dad was evacuated to a hotel, and went to a local school during the second world war. It was considered safer than his boyhood home of industrial Middlesbrough – a prime target for German bombers.

We managed an eight-mile walk from the South Bay cliffs all the way along the sea front to the Sea Life Centre at Scalby Mills. Lunch was at the recently refurbished Watermark Cafe on Royal Albert Drive, just down from the bus turning circle on the North Bay.

So another one ticked off and I know we will return in the future.

Seeing a kingfisher was proving more difficult, but that was no surprise as this small bird is well-known to be elusive and if you see one it often described as ‘a flash of blue’ as they rarely perch on a branch. That didn’t stop everyone Alyson mentioned it to coming up with plenty of advice, and claiming to have seen lots of them. Karen, Alyson’s sister, said we need to go on a canal holiday as that is where she had seen them many times. The lady we rented our holiday cottage in Ireland from in July said that the river boat trip in Bath was a good one as well. Someone else had mentioned that trip and as our son David lives there we have set him the task of booking it for the next time we visit.

Plenty of the RSPB reserves have kingfishers on the ‘recent sightings list’ often as ‘in flight’, but we never seemed to be there at the right time. This was part of my plan when I bought Alyson RSPB membership for her birthday. Driving up to Northumberland I stopped at a truck stop near Carnforth for lunch. Alyson declared herself unimpressed with my choice of this stark, industrial looking place, despite my protestations that it was perfectly ok. I came clean as we got out of the car and handed her the early present of a membership card, bird guide book and another with information on all the reserves. We drove to nearby Leighton Moss, the one Pete volunteers at. He told that me if we went to the Eric Morecambe hide we may see kingfishers, perched on the fence posts in front of the hide overlooking the tidal marsh there. We had lunch in the wonderful cafe at the visitor centre, drove down a very narrow track under a railway bridge to the car park near the hides in the reed beds. Eric Morecambe hide is large & comfortable, with plenty of poster to help you identify the birds. This was Alyson’s first formal bird-watching experience. We didn’t see a kingfisher but saw little egret, a heron and many species of ducks and waders.

Over the months we kept looking. Then two weeks ago we saw one very close to home. We have been looking after our eldest son Michael’s new house in Northwich whilst he was working in Australia for three months. On one of the visits we took a trip to nearby Marbury Country Park close to the historic Anderton Boat Lift. We walked to the mere and the bird watching screen there. A couple of weeks previously we had visited and not seen much except coots, moorhens and lots of mallards. We did see a nut hatch in the tree on the edge of the mere. This time, however, there were tufted ducks, cormorants and what we now call our ‘daily heron’ as it seems we always see one of these wherever we go – even in the sea off the beach in Ireland. We saw three together that day at Marbury Park. Then it happened! Alyson exclaimed ‘what is that..’ as a small bird flashed past on the edge of the bushes below and landed on a branch. Alyson managed to see it through her binoculars ‘It’s a kingfisher, yes it is!’ I was sat at the wrong angle to see it through mine, and after about 20 seconds it flew away and I saw the ‘blue flash’. Alyson was delighted and we stayed a while longer but it didn’t make another appearance. Walking along the edge of the mere we saw great crested grebe, the three herons, little egrets, and a cormorant. Two men were in the screen when we came back and told us the kingfisher had made a couple more appearances. We didn’t see it again, but Alyson had finally achieved her wish list.

This past week we were walking along the river Severn in Shrewsbury with my university friend Clare and her husband Stuart – and as we came under the railway bridge Alyson saw another kingfisher in flight. I don’t have an original photograph of the bird we saw, so that one is still on my own wish list.

I wait with interest the next experiences/challenges Alyson comes up with.