Life, laundry and the lure of the sardine
A new washing machine sets off a week of fun, fish and fundraisers
I was just starting to write this week’s in-depth report on my life but was stopped by the arrival of a new washing machine. The slightly defunct one is fifteen years old and, for the past three years, has been held together by gorilla tape. Last week it went into its spin cycle and sounded like a skip lorry reversing. The new one looks like it fell off the back of the NASA space programme and actually comes with an app! I am not sure what the app does, but I assume you can switch it on when you are in the boozer.
The young man who delivered it asked if I wanted to be taken through its main washing cycles.
‘No,’ was my reply. That was beyond my pay grade and, to be honest, I should not be trusted with anything technical. When I asked if the app was of any use, he did point out that it told you when things had gone wrong. I pointed out that six inches of soapy water, the smell of burning rubber and a total power outage has the same message. I know, I have experienced it and I might as well tell you the horrific tale.
I failed to close the door properly of a washing machine in a friend’s house. I had carried out a few home-made repairs to the door which proved pointless and interesting as the machine filled, leaked and filled for what we think was about an hour (we had gone to the pub) until the depth of water in the cellar reached the electric motor and stopped the whole process in a shower of suds and sparks.
Anyway, speaking of outages, throughout history, many cultures viewed sudden darkness during the day as a terrifying sign of doom. The arrival of an eclipse predicted that monsters were eating the sun, that gods were growing angry, or that the normal order of the universe was breaking down. Our recent celestial darkened movement happened on the same day as my water bill arrived.
It was not my first eclipse, back in 1999 I was getting ready for the ‘great’ eclipse, a wonderful non-event where tens of thousands of people crammed into Cornwall and Devon to witness cloud, slightly darker cloud and then more cloud. I was at St Mawes with the Devon and Cornwall Police making a documentary on our then Chief Constable Sir John Evans. It was a great privilege to be able to jump on board a police helicopter and glide over total road chaos.
Long snakes of vehicles jammed roads, fields had sprouted tents and caravans and seemingly the entire population of Britain had packed into the far southern tip of this country. For a minute or so it went dark’ish, or dimpsy, temperatures dropped, the birds stopped singing and the crowds went ‘Ooooo’. Then slightly brighter clouds, disgruntled birds and the crowds all tried to leave at once. I got to Exeter via the Gazelle helicopter in 35 minutes; the rest of Southern Cornwall took two days.
Sardines! I have never been a great lover of fish and therefore have always been chosen to host every fish-based food event that comes up. From the Galway Oyster Festival to Crabfest in Salcombe, get Fitz… is the cry. This time it was Brixham and speaking on stage with a nutritionist at The Sardine Festival. I was seen last year nibbling a sardine on the harbour and I must admit that it was good and so they invited me back!
My hatred of fish came from the 1970s when glassy-eyed, packed in chillers, been there for days… fish… came to the table normally in a white sauce and tasted of cardboard and sea water... in fact the box it came in tasted better than the contents. It was master chef Mitch Tonks who stepped forward and has shown me the way with fish that tastes how it should, cooked how it should and presented simply and perfectly.
It was also a great chance to catch up with Matt Tebbut from Saturday Morning Kitchen who emerged from the barbecue smoke like a remake of the film Grillers in the Mist. He and I host Crabfest in Salcombe every year and every year we end up in trouble, too little crab and too much fest! I’ll leave it there.
Next on the list of engagements was a fundraiser for Sherwell Valley School, an evening with Colin Lee and Dave Speedie, two Chelsea football legends. There is nothing I can report back and most, if not all, of the stories would be subject to a legal examination. What I can say is that over £2400 was raised for the school and I sold my football boots which renders me void from ever playing again… not that I did… playing would not be a description suited to what I did on the pitch.
A few days later I turned up in Buckfastleigh at another charity event for the Camphill Devon Community. They run a residential care home for adults with learning difficulties but have just purchased what used to be Tikka’s Café in the Fore Street. I was asked to cut the ribbon and reopen it on the morning of Tuesday 18th August under its new name of “Café Neuro”.
These remarkable projects are close to my heart as I believe inclusion, equity and diversity in the workplace can build happy and creative teams, boosting personal confidence and deliver a productive and improved life for all. The smiles on the day were a testament to the success of the project and my thanks to Darren Hands for asking me along to hold the scissors and snip. He had to stand in for the town crier who… cried off!
These things happen. I once waited for a health minister at a radio station only to be told he was ill and thus had to bring forward the interview with a man who had one of the top five MENSA scores in the UK. I watched him walk past the open front doors and the sign that said ‘entrance’ and tried to get in the ‘no access’ back door with the ‘no entry’ sign on it.
The day was completed with the presentation of my very last Gus Honeybun keyring to Amanda Greenaway, the CEO of Camphill Devon Community, as a good luck charm but somehow with her incredible dedicated team behind Café Neuro, the luck of the rabbit might not be needed.