Football - the beautiful game...

 My arse. And here's why:

I'm planning a reunion weekend in Sheffield with a couple of old (in every sense of the word) mates. We all went to uni there and thought we could re-enact old times with a visit to Sheffield United FC as they pit their dubious skills against QPR, followed by a gallon or so of ale and a curry.

One could reasonablyask if a finer day out is known to mankind? I think not.

However, this simple plan has to date been foiled at every turn by SUFC. I've tried booking tickets for the game online and by phone and the online system don't work (and there would be charge of £1 for each booking despite the fact that the punter has done all the feckin' work), whilst the premium rate phone line has you waiting for a small eternity before some woman comes on and says tickets aren't yet available for the game, even though it's less than a month away. And when they are it'll cost you a quid for the privilege of using a premium rate phone line to book them.

As I politely informed the unfortunate woman on the other end of the phone, "It's no bloody wonder you don't have any fans!".

This is, of course, of a piece with English football's never ending attempt to wrest every penny out of the poor saps who choose to watch it. And yet we put up with it all, for I'll be trying again in a few days to book those bloody tickets - for the fifth time.

Bit it's this kind of contempt for the people who keep the sport alive that saw me abandon footie long ago for surfing, skiing and mountaineering - at least Nature doesn't charge for the waves and mountains. Well, not in cash, anyway.

According to a press release I received today Galloway Forest Park in SW Scotland has just received a 'Dark Sky Award' from the International Dark Sky Association (no, me neither...) for the - well, as you might guess, for the darkness of its skies.

This makes the new 'Dark Sky Park' a prime spot for star gazing, and with so much of the UK suffering serious 'lightpollution' this is of course a GOOD THING; apparently less than 10 per cent of the country's population can see the Milky Way from where they live, paartly because we're such a nation of terrified milksops that we need to have street lights along every road and lane in the country.

But I disgress. It seems that Galloway is one of only four Dark Sky Parks in the world - the Natural Bridges National Monument in Utah, the Cherry Springs State Park in Pennsylvania and the Geauga Park in Ohio.

Two things occur to the cynic in me - first, there must surely be a vast number of other spots in the world where one can view the Milky Way with ease; and far all its new found fame surely Galloway suffers a serious disadvantage, especially when compared to Utah - isn't it one of the cloudiest, wettest places in the world?

Which may be one reason its so dark...

I'm part way through Roger Mansfield's fascinating book ‘The Surfing Tribe', a history of surfing in Britain, which I'd recommend for both the words and pics, but I have noticed that the book brings out an interesting and unexpected similarity between Cornwall and London.

London, of course, sees itself - particularly the media that are based there - as being representativeof wider Britain, which is clearly nonsense but nonetheless true. As an example I once checked the content of The Guardian's 16-page G2 section to find that the stories within ran to a 66-33 per cent split between London and the rest of the country, even though this is a ‘national' newspaper with its (long forgotten) roots in Manchester.

Likewise, Cornwall seems to see itself as being representative of British surfing to judge from much of what I've read so far in ‘The Surfing Tribe'. It's true that no area has had as much influence on UK surfing as Cornwall, but on a purely personal note I was more than a little piqued to discover that my own base here in Pembrokeshire merited less than half a page in the entire history of surfing in Britain - even less then North Wales and Cardigan Bay despite the fact that people have been surfing here since the mid-sixties (at least) and we have far better surf than either of the above named locations.

None of the established locals from the 70s and 80s - the Harvatt brothers, Chris Payne, Rod Thomas, Robin Copley, Reg Goddard, the Kitchell brothers, the Simes (and one of the oldest surf shops in Wales, Ma Simes), Andy Middleton of TyF Adventure and a host of other merited a mention either.

But then I considered again and realised that was actually pretty good news. Because it means that Pembrokeshire really has remained a surfing backwater when even esteemed individuals such as Roger Mansfield and co-writer and all-round good bloke Sam Bleakley have so little cognisance of its existence.

And being a backwater means we avoid all the excesses of Newquay and Bournemouth (see previous blog) which can only be a GOOD THING!

Fame beckons - after writing this I'm off to be interviewed for BBC Radio Four's ‘You and Yours' programme (Mon 19 Oct Mid-day since you ask) on the conundrum of Bournemouth's surf reef and the impact it may have on Britain's self-styled surf city Newquay.

Now assuming the reef is ever finished there are some who say it will attract surfers away from Newquayto Bournemouth and who feel that Newquay's surf business owners are being somewhat complacent in the face of this potential ‘threat'.

In my opinion there are a number of factors to consider here. First, anyone who chooses to travel to either Newquay or Bournemouth to surf is either desperate or not a ‘real' surfer. What ‘real' surfer would want to travel hundreds of miles (or even ten miles) for a weekend surfing Newquay's overcrowded, overhyped waves and then endure an evening in the piss stinking streets avoiding binge drinking morons, fat lasses and fights to finish it all off with a night in some pseudo surf lodge (the last time I stayed in Newquay was to review one of these places for The Guardian - it was so crap I bailed out at 10.30pm and went back to sleep in my camper near Watergate Bay)?

On the other hand, what ‘real' surfer would want to travel tens of miles (because let's face it, we're looking primarily at the London crowd here) to Bournemouth's pseudo surf beach with its designer beach huts and surf boutiques to ride an overcrowded wave that with the best will in the world will rarely ever be anything other than mediocre? I hope I'm wrong on this fact since over a million quid has been invested on the new reef, but for any reef to work you have to have decent, consistent swell and wave conditions and Bournemouth has neither.

Which leads us on to point two - the fact that both destinations are likely to attract the lowest form of surfing life, the surfer wannabe who cares more about image than wave riding. Newquay long ago sold its soul in return for their cash, and Bournemouth is well down the road to doing the same.

And that brings us neatly on to the final point; bearing all the above in mind, what ‘real' surfer (by which I mean those of us who do our best to avoid the crowds when we're on surfari and as such keep away from surf ghettos like Newquay and designer surf outlets like Bournemouth) really cares?

I wouldn't like to see anyone's business go under in Newquay as a result of Bournemouth's new role in Britain's surfing life, and I really do hope that the new reef creates great designer waves for the designer surfers who will visit it, but at the end of the day, like most British surfers I don't really care.

I do feel grateful that I'm not a local in either town though...

Apparently the more a writer blogs the more chance their is of their blog/website coming up in search results.

The only trouble is it seems that the more a writer blogs the less they have to say. It's a bit like the Facebook/Twitter conundrum - the more time you spend telling people what you're about to do/have done the less time you have to actually do it.

So I'm off todo something - although I'm not sure what. 

Facebook. Twitter. Possibly the biggest waste of time in human history?

If it's worth informing your friends about it deserves more than 140 characters or a nudge, poke or whatever on Facebook; and if it's not worth more than an entry on Twatter of Boookface then it's probably not worth the trouble of making the entry or anyone else reading it.

C'mon, haven't yougot anything better to do with your life than switch on your pc, log onto Smatter or Arseface and then let us all know the fascinating fact that Joe is going to the dentist or Jess is having her lunch?

Quite honestly, who gives a toss?

Regular newspaper readers will perhaps have become aware of how much more reader input is encouraged these days - reader's tips, reader's pics, even reader's articles in some cases.

 This can on rare occasions result in something worth reading or viewing, but on the whole it's a bit like Nissan offering 'customer's mechanical tips' in their garagesor your local plumber asking for 'client's advice' to put on his website - neither Nissan nor the plumber would bother because they're the acknowledged experts in cars and leaking taps and don't need some amateur advising them how to do it, whilst their customers probably wouldn't hold such free advice in too much regard either.

 And, of course, they'd lose business through it.

Newspapers are different though. Many no longer appear to give a toss about the quality of reader contributions because all they want to to is fill news or web pages for free.

For instance, I recently read a reader's tip that was several paragraphs in length on the website of what was once my favourite newspaper that was hackneyed, inaccurate and misspelt. But hey, it cost bugger all so the editor of the paper in question had absolutely nothing to lose by posting it, apparently unedited.

And even when readers are offered prizes for their work they essentially get next to nothing even if they win (a £200 digital camera, for instance, no doubt given to the paper for free by an advertiser); what the paper gets in return is a stack of pics with which to populate its pages both in print and online, some of them maybe half decent, which it promptly copyrights for its own free use worldwide forever.

The obvious loser in all this is people like me - freelance journalists and photographers (well, why else would I be having this rant?). Why pay people who are actually capable of penning a few lucid words or taking a properly composed photograph when you can get a second rate version of the same material free from Joe Public?

But that said I feel that readers DO lose out. Do you really want to read badly constructed, unedited copy from some bloke who sees himself as the next Bill Bryson but can't spell Mediterranean? Or the next Ansel Adams' slightly out-of-focus digital shot of the nice view from his hotel room?

I certainly don't. I buy newspapers to read quality copy and study excellent photography presented by professionals (not so with the Internet - I usually expect drivel on the net and am rarely disappointed).

In no other professsion are punters provided with material supplied by rank amateurs. You wouldn't allow the 12-year-old next door to fix your car's brakes because he like watching Formula 1; and you wouldn't take French lessons from your neighbour because he's been going to the Dordogne for the last five year; but you'll happily read 350 words in a national newspaper or on its website provided by those same people whilst professional journalists are forced into taking on jobs in bars as a result.

The newspaper owners are happy - they get copy for free and you're presumably happy because you're not discerning enough to realise that you're ingesting rubbish.

Let this state of affairs continue for too long though and newspapers will become like 'reality tv shows' - cheap rubbish fed to people who are too lazy to use their brains.

Is that you?

Like most people I get regular requests to become someone's 'friend' on Arsebook or Twatter, often from people I've never met, and for various reasons - invariably business related - I've had to sign up to both these sites.

God help me. What a quivering waste of space they both are. Why would I want to 'poke'  someone or write on their 'wall'? Why would anyone on the planet give a rat's arse about what I or anyone else is doing in less than 140 characters?

Sure, it's an age thing to detest all this drivel (well, up to a point - Stephen Fry has plummeted in my estimation since he started annnouncing loudly and regularly that being a Twatterer is his idea of fun), but really, what is the point of all this?

If you can only be bothered to stay in touch with 'friends' via Facebook just how much of a friend is he/she/it?

 And if you really must take time out of your thrilling life to sit down, turn on a computer, log on and then send me 140 characters informing me of what world changing event you'll be participating in today once you get off the bloody computer might I suggest that you GET A FECKIN' LIFE and go out and do it rather than (t)wittering on about it.

I'm currently enjoying a few weeks skiing and other outdoorsy stuff in Canada (it's work actually...), and y'know, apart from the thrill of zooming down snowy hills, one of the great joys of being in this country is meeting the 'locals', who almost without exception love living here.

Ok there are some complaints about politicians, local government and the like, butcertainly none of the endless moaning and whining from people like me who are sick of the venality, corruption, pollution, overcrowding and general crapness that make up everyday life in Britain.

Wonder if there's space here for one more moaning Brit? I promise to stop moaning, honest. Well, what's to moan about when there's a foot of fresh powder outside your front door?

16/2/09

Your ref. 266335

Dear Miss Mills,

Thanks you for your recent letter. First, please do not take the comments below personally since they are aimed at the overpaid individuals who are in charge of the shambolic operation that calls itself Arriva Trains (perhaps Non-Arriva would be a better name?).

Anyway... I see that you have decided to decline my application for the refund of an unused ticket as a result of illness on the basis of your terms and conditions, viz ‘Advance tickets are non-refundable'.

This, I assume, is something Arriva's directors have conjured up out of thin air (shame they can't do the same with their trains) and essentially amounts to ‘We're happy to sell you a ticket but if you don't use it through no fault of your own we keep the money, you get nothing - on your bike, sucker'. A bike, incidentally, is invariably faster and more reliable than an Arriva train.

This means that after years of enduring late trains, overcrowded carriages, no buffet service, stinking toilets and even in some cases no trains at all (get on the bus, pal), Arriva still manages to kick me when I'm down (as opposed to standing interminably on a freezing cold platform) and filch £80 from my pocket when I have ‘flu and am unable to use their distinctly second rate service.

All par for the course in this country these days of course - money grabbing bankers, corrupt politicians and third world train services are something that we, the ludicrously tolerant public, just seem to put up with these days.

I realise that this letter will serve no purpose other than to waste your time and mine along with a small amount of ink, but perhaps if a few more customers were to let you know what a pathetic joke of an overpriced service Arriva offers then maybe your directors would do something about it?

Then again, probably not...

Yours etc.