The Harry Potter Studio Tour - A Review

The following is a review of the Harry Potter Studio Tour. Please be warned it contains major spoilers and a lot of photographs, so if you don’t want to know about the contents of the tour you would be advised not to read any further.Tx

Since the release of the final Harry Potter film last year there hasn’t been much in the way of excitement or good cheer for the die-hard fans, especially the UK ones. But all that has changed with the opening of Warner Bros Harry Potter Studio Tour at Leavesden.

Although the series (both books and films) is now complete and everyone in the fandom is feeling the loss to some extent, the US is fairly well-served for Potter-related entertainment from the theme park in Florida (and soon to be in Los Angeles) as well as conferences taking place all over the country catering to every facet of the Potter fandom. Sadly, the UK didn’t get the theme park, nor do we have many of the conferences, although there is the excellent Wizard Rock show, The Snow Ball held in Edinburgh, in December most years and Alohamora, a conference to rival any of the US ones is being planned for 2013 in London.

And now we have the Harry Potter Studio Tour, which is probably the closest we’ll ever get to the theme park (although I’m still hoping it will one day open on our shores). The hype surrounding the contents of the tour was intense, the wait for the opening was long and the anticipation of the Potter fandom was high. It finally opened on Saturday 31 March and the initial reviews from the fan pages were all good.

And so it was with intense excitement that Mrs H3 and I (probably more me being excited, if I’m being honest) made our way to sunny Leavesden last Monday to sample the goodies the tour had to offer. And I’m pleased to be able to report that we had an absolutely brilliant time and enjoyed it even more than we anticipated. In fact, I think I enjoyed the experience more than my visit to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Florida last year (I really hate to say that), although the extremely hot weather there may have had something to do with that.

The Harry Potter Studio Tour is not a theme park. It doesn’t have rides and it doesn’t have a fake village of snowy Hogsmeade (which is strange to see in such hot weather) complete with an admittedly impressive Hogwarts castle overlooking it. What is does have, which I believe makes it win out over The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, is the original sets, props and costumes that were actually used during the course of the seven films.

This isn’t exactly a new idea. An exhibition has been, and will continue to travel the world for years, showing costumes and props within recreated settings and other smaller exhibitions have happened elsewhere (such as Harrod’s recreation of Diagon Alley for the release of the last film on DVD). But this is on a far more extravagant scale and the area the items are housed in (sound stages J & K co-incidentally) has real relevance to the films, as this was where many of the scenes using the sets being shown were shot.

Although I was excited at the idea of seeing Potter film memorabilia in such a close environment, I was a little worried that it would turn out to be like the Star Trek exhibition that Mrs H3 and I visited some years ago which had promised much and delivered very little. But from the moment we arrived it was clear this was going to be something very different.

The first thing to mention is that all the people who work there are incredibly friendly. Everyone we met from the car parking staff, security, the tour guides, the hospitality staff and even the shuttle bus drivers, were all incredibly nice, loved to talk about Harry Potter in great depth and were happy to take pictures of us with the exhibits. It really does make a difference to the atmosphere when the staff engage with the subject as deeply as the audience and have knowledgeable tidbits to share with anyone who cares to listen.

Secondly, entrance to the tour is in timed slots and the studio has very sensibly limited the amount of people who can enter the tour at any one time (and I hope they continue to do this in the future as I believe it is the key to its success). This means that although there are several people looking at the same exhibits as you, there aren’t huge queues, (even the queue for the broomstick and flying car green screen photographs wasn’t as bad as queuing to get into Ollivander’s Wand Shop in Florida (and didn’t involve standing in blazing sunshine for over an hour) or so many people milling around that you can’t see or photograph the exhibits properly, as was also the case in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

The entrance hall is light and airy containing giant photos all around the walls of the various characters and high above is the Weasley’s flying car. On one side of the hall is the coffee shop and toilets, on the other is the extensive gift shop containing everything you might need for attending Hogwarts, from clothing and stuffed pets (including replicas of several of the costumes from the movies) to the Marauder’s Map and sweets from Honeydukes. 

Whilst you are queuing to get into the first stage of the tour you are already treated to seeing the Cupboard under the Stairs, the place where Harry’s story began and there are also the handprints of the three leads. Once the tour itself begins you are ushered into a room containing images of film posters from all over the world and after a brief introduction by a guide, a short film explaining the popularity and importance of the series is shown. Once this is finished you move through to a cinema area where you take your place in one of the comfortable seats (smelling lovely and leathery and new at the moment). Another film is shown, starring Dan, Emma and Rupert, who give a quick overview of what you are about to see and then the first, of what was for me, one of several breathtaking moments to happen during the tour occurs. I won’t describe it here so that there are still some surprises if you visit, but suffice to say that it made my heart beat faster and made me very happy to be there.

A talk by a guide follows in the Great Hall, which is a spectacular construct, featuring flag stone floors, and amazing decorations. Two of the House tables are laid out and at various points throughout the room are costumes from the various films.

It is at this point the guided tour finishes and you are left to wander the remaining exhibits in your own time – and you really can take just as long as you like over this (the tour is advertised as taking three hours but we were there for four and could easily have been in there for longer), reminded by the tour guide that there are fifteen hidden snitches to find by the end of the tour.

As you make your way through each area, photographing everything (and you will), there are guides specific to each section who are happy to recount tales, or point out items of interest you might have overlooked (like Neville’s ear extenders or Belltrix’s teeth). By the time we’d reached Dumbledore’s study we had only found one snitch (although to be fair we didn’t have a copy of the snitch list that gives clues as to their whereabouts and I'm completely rubbish at spotting anything) and so I asked the guide there how many we should have found by that time. She told me it was five which meant we really weren’t doing very well, but after a couple of hints we’d found another two of them.

And then we were at the Potions classroom, which anyone who knows me will know was the area I was keenest to see, being a huge fan of Professor Snape. Hagrid’s hut, the kitchen at the Burrow, the Gryffindor dormitory and boy’s bedroom all follow until you find yourself at the Ministry of Magic, the statue showing Magic is Might in the centre with Dolores Umbridge’s office, the Ministry Floo’s and Malfoy Manor, with costumes from the Malfoy family and various baddies, around the outside.

At this point you leave the first sound stage and enter the Backlot outside which contains 4 Privet Drive, The Potter’s house at Godric’s Hollow, and Riddle Family Gravestone as well as the Knight Bus, Sirius Black’s motorbike and the Flying Car, all of which can be accessed for photos. This is also a refreshment area containing seating and a stall selling sandwiches, drinks, ice cream and the famous Butterbeer which has apparently been imported specially from Florida.

Outside the second part of the tour are several of the chess pieces from the first movie, which are rather magnificent and, as with a Death Eater earlier in the tour, you can’t help wishing that they moved occasionally, although that would have been truly terrifying!

So onto the second sound stage and it’s the Creature Shop and Makeup and Prosthetics, where you are greeted by some of those scary Inferi and a Grindylow. You can see the head casts of all the goblins plus all of the many fantastic creatures that were created for the series. Particularly impressive are Aragog (who Mrs H3 and I eulogised to in the manner of Professor Slughorn, having seen the Half Blood Prince only the day before) and Buckbeak, who is so life-like it’s scary. I personally also adored the Thestrals, although it was disappointing that they didn’t have their wings in the full-size version.

After you’ve looked at the ugly little mandrake and the even uglier Voldemort baby thing from the last film you make your way to another of those amazing faster heartbeat sights (at least you will if you’re a fan), Diagon Alley. Entering by Gringotts Bank you make your way up the road, able to inspect the shops that you know so well from the stories, enjoying seeing the cauldrons in Potages or checking out Gilderoy Lockhart’s books in Flourish & Blotts and of course marvelling at the window displays of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes which dominates Diagon Alley. I was also pleased to see that Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour was there too, although it had never actually appeared in any of the films.

Once you finally manage to drag yourself away from this perfect slice of both the books and the movies it’s onto the Art Department which includes everything from sketches to some beautiful artwork and models both in paper version and more substantial building material.

It’s at that point you reach the most astonishing and powerful exhibit on the whole tour, one which truly took my and Mrs H3’s breath away. It’s the scale model of Hogwarts, but to describe it as that just doesn’t do it justice. For some reason I hadn’t expected it to be as large as it was and once you walk around it, and it takes quite some time to do, you discover more about the castle than you would ever learn by watching the films. It is exquisitely sculpted and so intricate in its detail I don’t think you can take it all in after just one look. The lighting is brilliant and takes you through twenty four hours with the castle lighting up as darkness falls, then coming back to life as day breaks. To be honest I could try to describe this amazing exhibit for hours and still not manage to capture how truly fantastic it is. I think the only time I’ve ever been as strongly moved by a piece as this was when I saw the real Statue of David in Florence and anyone who read my blog about that will know just how was I was affected by it.

When you can finally bring yourself to leave, and to be honest if I’d been there on my own I would probably have spent another hour in there just studying the intricacies of the building, you end up in the wand shop, where there is a mixture of the boxes from the film version of Ollivander’s, along with wands for every person who ever worked on the film series. There are also helpful staff who have memorised where the wands are so you can ask to see Alan Rickman’s wand and they will show you where it’s located.

And then, rather sadly, you’re back in the gift shop and buying Chocolate Frogs (all the chocolate is made in England so tastes better than the US counterparts apparently – I don’t know as I haven’t tasted either) and replica ‘Have You Seen This Wizard’ and ‘Undesirable No 1’ posters, before heading for a cup of tea (where they have a very tasty cake selection, which we were very good and didn’t try) or heading out of the Studios and off home, feeling happy at having been a part of the Wizarding World once more, but sad at having to leave it.

I feel there were one or two little niggles, which are things that annoyed us rather than necessarily being problems for the majority. Firstly, as hardcore fans excited to be taking part in something so majorly Potter we had bought everything - the guidebook and the digital tour guide, which you can buy as a package with your entrance ticket to save some money. We also paid for the special ticket wallet rather than collecting our tickets on the day, but to have to then give in those tickets to collect our guides etc. made the wallet rather redundant (and a waste of £3.95).

The digital guides too, were rather a waste, at least they were for us, as we wanted to share the experience rather than walk around in our own little worlds listening to Tom Felton. There is no doubt that the guides are good value for money, containing something like thirty two pieces of information given by Tom about the various parts of the tour plus extra exclusive information in videos, sketches, picture galleries etc. for each of these, but having decided we would finish going through the guide whilst we had our tea at the end of the tour (as I noticed several people doing before we went in) I wasn’t impressed to discover that by the time we finished the tour the battery was about to give out. We therefore had to give up with the guides about half way through. If I was going on the tour on my own I would probably get the guide again so I could learn about all the cool stuff it contains, but  I don’t think it’s really any good for groups.

The food and drink was about standard for these sorts of attractions. Starbucks are the retailer of choice and their prices are pretty much as you would expect, with a bottle of water selling for £1.50. The one thing they do allow, which certainly isn’t allowed at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, is for you to take your own food and drink, although understandably you’re not allowed to consume it during the tour except in the Backlot.

What annoyed us here was the Butterbeer. In Florida you can get two types of Butterbeer – the ‘normal’ one and a frozen one. In the UK they sell only the normal one (which is a shame ‘cos I loved the frozen one). However, in the US they serve it in plastic pint tankards and aren’t a bad price (I can’t remember exactly how much it was, but it wasn’t too expensive. Over here they sell it in small plastic glasses (the ones that come with water coolers) and they charge £2.95 a glass. This really is extortionate, especially when you discover, as we did that it actually tastes nothing like the Butterbeer from the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. It may have been that the drinks we received weren't very well poured (or maybe that should be mixed) – certainly the delivery method is completely different from the US system, but it was probably the biggest disappointment of the day as we’d both been looking forward to sampling it again. It wasn’t that it didn’t taste nice, ‘cos it was fine, but it was a bit like a cross between ginger ale and cream soda with a bit of creamy stuff on top and didn’t make me feel like I was drinking Butterbeer, whereas in Florida it did. Thinking about it his might actually be a good thing as it saved us a lot of money by only having the one drink. I was also personally disappointed that the Pumpkin Juice hadn’t also been brought over, although several of the bottles were in one of the displays.

Finally, the prices in the shop are somewhat steep. Expect to pay £3.95 for a bar of Honeydukes chocolate and the Chocolate Frogs are more like £7. Scarves, hats and gloves in house colours, which are all going to be desired by the younger visitors, if not the older, will set you back about £60 for the set and I’ve no idea how much the wands were as I didn’t bother looking. Whilst the prices certainly weren’t cheap in the US, they are cheaper than over here. Oh, and if you a spare £200 odd, you can buy a replica of Hermione’s gown from the Yule Ball.

I honestly think that the ticket price, which I have heard criticised by some as being too expensive, definitely wasn’t for what is on offer during the tour and that it is interesting enough for those who are not Harry Potter fans, but are interested in looking behind the scenes at how films are made, to get something out of it too. But the concessions have the ability to make the experience very much more expensive, especially if you’re a family with children. Once we’d bought green screen photos (which reminds me of another little gripe, that they only had Gryffindor robes available for the broom flying photos - definitely not what a Slytherin wants - and whilst I understand the problem of green screen and green robes, not everyone considers themselves Gryffindor and there are two other Houses at Hogwarts too) and food and drink, Mrs H3 and I had spent about £50 between us on top of the price of entry – and we really didn’t overdo it, or buy anything from the shop. 

Oh, and we only found 9 of the golden snitches in the end, so we’re going to have to go back so we can look for them again!          

Snow!

I hate the snow!

There I’ve said it. I know it’s not a popular opinion, but finally after 46 years I’ve decided to be honest about it. The idea of a skiing holiday is my idea of absolute hell. Not even the après-ski would make me consider wasting my life on a place with snow. I would happily relocate anywhere in the world that never has the stuff – and would never miss it if I never saw it again. I don’t even like being out in the snow long enough to make a snow angel or snowman, or to throw snowballs. And I definitely wouldn’t want to go sledging. Snow makes me cold, wet and very depressed.

I will admit that for about five minutes last Saturday night, the freshly falling, powdery, glitter-strewn white stuff did enchant me enough for me to post a sappy Twitter/Facebook message, but in my defence I wasn’t at that point snowed in, I was on my way home from a brilliant evening out which had involved good friends, good food and a considerable amount of cake - and I’d had several large glasses of wine. By the morning normal service had been resumed and the discovery that I was once again trapped had me scurrying back to bed in a major sulk.

Snow looks very pretty when you are in a nice warm house and don’t need to actually go out in it, but open that door and suddenly you’re left with the nasty reality – either you’re snowed in and can’t go anywhere decent (and by that I mean anywhere other than Walderslade village and even that’s a major chore which resembles an arctic trek), or you can finally get out as the roads have been cleared, but then risk breaking your neck on the too slowly thawing snow and ice.

Before I worked at home, being snowed in was a great way to have a few days off work and something I vaguely looked forward to just as long as I didn’t have to actually leave the house at any point. But now that I have access to the office from home, being snowed in doesn’t stop me from working and so it loses its appeal. When it stops you from actually doing stuff, like going to concerts, or seeing friends it then becomes actively unpleasant. Fortunately, this year we haven’t had any concerts yet and so we haven’t had that problem, unlike last year where we had to miss several because of the white stuff (although had we known about Peter Doherty’s secret gig on Sunday I wouldn’t have been able to go, as was the case last year too).

Unfortunately, snow makes me lazy. I have problems leaving the house in normal weather and sometimes have to really force myself to set foot outside the door. But once the snow and ice come it’s even harder. Partly it’s because I’m not very sure-footed and have had too many painful tumbles on the ice to feel comfortable about walking in the white stuff, but also because, surprisingly for a winter baby, I just get the urge to hibernate, to curl up under my duvet and not re-appear until Easter.

The beautiful glittery, powdery snow that so enchanted me on Saturday night has now been around for five days and is hard, icy and generally a pain in the arse (sometimes quite literally) to deal with. And according to reports there could be more to come. I have to admit that I’m really hoping that the reports aren’t true!

Every Cloud's Got A Silver Lining?

I’ve been having a bit of a rough time for the last week or so. A week ago today I received a letter at work telling me that my post will cease to exist on 31 March 2012. Now I knew this was coming, at least I was aware of the likelihood as I’d been told last year it was going to happen. But since then there had been radio silence on what exactly was happening or when, apart from rumours suggesting that nothing more had been heard as it still wasn’t certain to happen. So receiving the letter was a bit like hearing that someone who you knew was ill and had been for a while had died. It wasn’t unexpected, but it was still a shock – and it still hurt.

The loss of my post makes me very angry when I think about it, as for a second time within my current career, the time I have spent training for my specialism has been thrown away for no seemingly good reason. Whilst I am aware that the decisions were based purely on post rather than anything else (or so I’ve been assured by my section head), it annoys me that other people within my division with no relevant experience or training are actively seeking to leave and yet their posts are remaining. Of course these people are at a higher grade, because once again the cuts have removed the remaining lower grade posts to ensure the higher still have a job.

In reality I suppose I am lucky that the loss of a post doesn’t mean the loss of my job (at the moment, although compulsory redundancies must be coming soon as the Department has to reach the 40% target imposed by the Government and they just aren't getting the numbers through voluntary redundancies, and I don’t want to be without a post when that happens). Even once my post ends, I will still be employed, but need to find a different post within the Department. And this too is causing me some distress. Whilst I haven’t yet been shown the whole range of posts available to the “redeployment pool” which will be my new home from the beginning of April, the ones which have been posted for general consumption have been insipid, tedious or generally of such poor quality that it is almost enough to induce a severe bout of depression whenever I look at them – and quite often reduces me to tears. I am hoping that once the pool is open to me there will be something with a little more quality about it, but to be honest I’m not holding my breath. I am also hoping that I can get something in London (not guaranteed as I’m classified as mobile and therefore theoretically could be posted anywhere in the country, although being frank I’d rather get posted to the Falkland Islands than Bristol – at least I’d make some decent money and get to see penguins in their natural habitat!)

Of course, neither of my specialisms are likely to make an appearance, as the IT jobs were all contracted out a long time ago and Health and Safety doesn’t seem to be very popular at the moment and most H&S jobs are dead-men’s shoes. Unfortunately the biggest H&S section and the one in London, is the one from which I am losing my post anyway.

I have been wondering whether my career would have been any more successful if I hadn’t followed the advice that the Department gave out in the late nineties that people should develop one or more ‘anchors’ – streams of specialism that would see them through their career. Maybe if I hadn’t bothered getting all that training, doing all that extra work to make myself more employable and get a better quality job I’d be rattling along somewhere in a safe job, or maybe I’d still be in HR (which come to think of it is a third specialism)RHRh.     

As if my week wasn’t bad enough I also received a lot of bad financial news too, which, when I received a nasty letter about the Council Tax was the final nail in the coffin. The despair, pain and general self-loathing which had been building up for quite some time erupted like Mount Vesuvius.

Having been in this position depression-wise many times in the past I know how hard it is to drag myself out of the pit of despair once I’m there and was seriously considering that I might need to pay a visit to the doctor (something that Moodscope has been suggesting for a few weeks now) as retreating to bed to bury my head in the sand doesn’t help to sort my finances or find me another post. But then, when I was probably at my lowest point for a long time I read a blog post by a friend, Mel, which made me stop and think.

I haven’t yet read The Fault in Our Stars by John Green as I can’t afford to get it at the moment, but everyone I know who has read it (and that’s a lot of people from the HP fandom) all loved the book and raved about how much it had made them laugh and cry, just as Mel described. And her admonition to enjoy life, along with her list of the brilliant things she had done last year made me sit down and think about all the amazing things I did last year too.

As a natural depressive it’s sometimes hard to think about the good things that have happened as the bad always seems to overshadow them. It’s hard to think about the little pleasures, the enjoyment one has taken in reading a book, for example, when everything in your future looks bleak, or you’re still holding onto the bad things that have already happened. For instance I once vaguely considered joining a dating website but gave up the idea when I reached the question which asked me to explain what I was thankful for. At the time this question was impossible for me to answer, because I couldn’t think of a single good thing in my life (I was deep in the midst of the worst bout of depression I’d had for many years at the time). I’m not entirely sure I could answer it satisfactorily now, but I could at least cobble together some sort of answer. And after reading Mel’s blog I could at least think about the good things that happened last year.

And do you know what? They really did outweigh the bad things (with the possible exception of dad’s death which was a massive bad thing).

Thinking about the good made me more positive, and that in turn made me more determined. I finally tackled all the rubbish that I’ve been storing in my flat, meaning to get rid of, but never quite getting round to doing it - meaning that I finally have a little space to breathe. It’s only a start and there’s more that needs to be done, but it is definitely a start and I already feel that I can better cope with what’s left (before I often considered setting fire to the flat just to get away from it all).

Then I tackled my finances. It turned out that there had been a series of computer errors which were fairly easily sorted once I summoned up the nerve to contact the various companies. Of course finances are still tight, after all it’s that really long month after the Christmas overspend, but at least I now know that with careful budgeting I can afford to live, although unfortunately not in the style to which I’d like to become accustomed – I really do still need to win the lottery or marry a millionaire for that to happen.        

Now I have to sort out my job, and in particular I need to write a CV and my competences. This is something that has been giving me trouble since I first found out that I was going to lose my post, but I think I’m finally ready to deal with it and hopefully with a little positivity I’ll be able to make a good enough job of it to get a decent post.

I did, for a very short while, entertain the idea of leaving the Civil Service and going to work at Leavesden at the Warner Brothers Studio Tour (which opens just as my post finishes), as it would be an ideal for job for me. I even discussed it with a few people, all of whom were equally sure that it would be a great choice for me (let’s face it, a chance to dress up and show off my knowledge of Harry Potter = heaven). But in reality it wasn’t a good choice. Whilst the job would be great, I imagine the money isn’t wonderful and I am far too old, as they are looking for youngsters who are willing to work for the enjoyment rather than the money. And with my current financial commitments I have to seriously consider the money. It was also too far away. A huge trek to get to work every day does not make for a healthy mind and body as I already know, even if you get to dress up as a witch at the end of it.      

And so next week is my birthday, another potentially depressing day when I realise that yet another year has gone by without me becoming significantly skinnier, wealthier or more loved. But whereas earlier this week the black cloud of my despair had already turned the day into something bad because of my inability to afford to celebrate in any way, my new more positive self is looking forward to it. Yes, I might be another year older and all those bad things may still be true. But it’s the start of a new year where, if I can keep up the positive outlook, great things could happen. And I know, that even without the money to celebrate in style, I have friends who care for me enough to make my day special regardless of what we do.     

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year everyone and welcome to 2012.

I thought I’d start with an early blog post as I’m seriously intending to try and post more regularly this year (yeah yeah, I know, I always say that – but this year I’m actually going to do it).

I’m not really one for resolutions, as they are too easily broken, but with a tough year ahead (some people would classify it as challenging and relish it, but I’m afraid I’m not one of them and am going to find it hard going and quite possibly upsetting at times) I think I’m really going to need to get stuff out of my system and this blog (and the fitness and nutrition blog) will be the way to do it.

I haven’t really got much in the way of exciting things to look forward to in the near future due to a lack of money and anticipate spending rather a lot of time at home on my own. However, the up side to this is that I received a lot of DVDs for Christmas and will at least have something to keep me occupied whilst I’m stewing at home.

First up will be an episode of Lost a day, which, if I manage to stick to that schedule, should see me finishing the final series at the end of April. I will also be catching up with season three of Castle and Fringe and finally attempting to watch series one of Downton Abbey (I have actually watched the first episode twice and couldn’t manage to get into it at all, but I am persevering as everyone else in the world seems to love it, so I must be wrong). I’ve also the first three series of Merlin to catch up on (I loved series four) and the first series of Bones (to see if I want to get the others).   

I also have, courtesy of a fabulous Christmas present from Mrs H3, the ultimate, limited edition Blu-Ray and DVD versions of the Harry Potter films which I never have a problem watching again and again – and I’m hoping that my new LCD tv will make the final films more watchable than my old telly.

That’s not to say that there won’t be some good moments during the year. My birthday is fast approaching and I expect there will be a fancy dress evening at the Sherwood Oak to celebrate as usual (although I haven’t yet decided what the theme should be) - featuring (hopefully) Mrs H3 and the Foxhunter and maybe even other people.

And there will be concerts too. Already booked are Justin Furstenfeld (lead singer of Blue October) and David Hasselhoff (yes Mrs H3 is VERY excited about this). I Am Kloot are due to release a new album shortly, which I’m really hoping means a load of concerts that we can get to, as it’s been far too long since I last saw them. Also I think Gary Numan will be releasing his new album later in the year, which should mean more supporting concerts too.

Filmwise, my interest is taken up by The Woman in Black due out in February, The Hunger Games in March and the long-awaited The Hobbit which is out in December. Of course, there is also the final part of Twilight: Breaking Dawn (I still have absolutely no idea why this was split into two films, as unlike Harry Potter there wasn’t much story to begin with and the first film had quite a lot of filler in it).

So some tough times ahead, but hopefully with enough bright spots to stop me from sinking too far into depression. Hopefully this new programme I’ve discovered called Moodscope will help me to better gauge things and help me to stay on an even keel, although after just three days of completing the tests it suggested that I see a doctor (although it was over New Year which is always a down time for me).  

The Countdown is On....

According to the internet there is 10 days, 1 hour and 59 minutes left until Christmas. Where has the time gone? It was the beginning of December yesterday. My tree is up, my lovely Snape angel is complete and taking pride of place at the top (although he’s still a little bit big for it, but far more suited to the role than any of my other Snapes have been) and I have at least managed to make and write most (although not all) of my Christmas cards. I haven’t yet started wrapping the presents, although I have drunk the wine I bought to drink while I was wrapping.

Strangely, although I’ve been wearing my Christmas tops (including a rather fantastic snowman dalek, which satisfies both my nerd and Christmas sides at the same time), have my workstation decorated with more tinsel and fairy lights than Santa’s grotto and have already been to the works Christmas dinner (a bit of a disappointment to be honest, All Bar One) I’m not really feeling very Christmassy. Partly this is because I’ve got other things on my mind which are detracting from me enjoying myself and partly it’s because of that pile of presents still needing to be wrapped.

This weekend is the Wizarding Winter Fair, which is a replacement for the Snow Ball and is being held in Macclesfield. Unfortunately I can’t make it, which would explain why this year, instead of being snowed in (as has happened the previous two years when trying to get to Edinburgh), it seems that with the exception of a bit of wind and maybe a storm, the weather will be fine. Gutted as I am not to be able to join my fellow wizards for some pre-Christmas wrock and fun, Mrs H3 and I will instead be spending Friday evening celebrating our own early Christmas (due to my imminent departure to Spain) at Bluewater with a meal, presents and Robert Downey Junior (phwoar!) in Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows. I’m hoping that by Friday I’ll be feeling a little more in the spirit.

It occurred to me that I’ve never documented my Harry Potter Christmas tree properly before and so I’ve taken some photos of the tree, Snape angel (I made the wings from decoupaged glitter card in the end and they look fab in real life), and the decorations so you can see just how wonderful they are.        

I’m not sure if I’ll get a chance to post again before I go to Spain as I’m pretty busy for the next few days, but if not I’d like to thank you all for reading my blog, sporadic as it’s been over the last year or so and wish you all a very merry Christmas (holiday season etc.) and a happy and healthy New Year!

Knitting

When I was in my teens I used to knit all the time (it started during a phase where I made all my own clothes). I knitted some fabulously intricate patterns: from a jumper covered with multi-coloured Egyptian hieroglyphs and a jewel-bright Pharaoh’s collar to match, to fashionable tops containing the latest and most interesting wools. Nothing was too difficult for me to have a go at as several large fluffy cable knit jumper dresses and a very difficult to knit (and hugely expensive) silk and alpaca cardigan showed.

And then I stopped.

Thinking about it now I have absolutely no idea why. I’m not even quite sure when I stopped as I can remember days of sitting at boot fairs, knitting my way through balls of angora wool and I remember showing Jane how to knit when she got pregnant, so that she could make some baby clothes. But at some point I stopped, and although I made a couple of scarves a few years ago, I’ve not really been involved in serious knitting for years.

Until now.

A few weeks ago I was trawling the interwebs trying to find something to go on the top of my Christmas tree (my beautiful Severus Snape dolls are either too big, and thus too heavy or too small and not imposing enough) when I discovered a knitted Snape doll which I thought would be perfect, both in size and weight. There were two choices: I could buy the doll ready-made, which was quite expensive, or I could buy the pattern and knit it myself. I decided to go for the latter and have spent the last few evenings immersed in trying to create this doll.

But somewhere along the way I seem to have lost my ability to knit, or at least, I’ve lost the ability to do anything but row after row of stocking stitch. Increasing without creating holes in my work is a problem I need to solve (Snape’s face depends on it) and, sad to admit, I even had to look up how to cast off because I couldn’t remember how to do it. Fortunately knitting is a pretty well-covered hobby on the internet and so there’s a million tutorials on every possible subject and even helpful videos, so hopefully the holey face will soon be sorted, but working on the doll has re-kindled my enjoyment of knitting and I’m seriously considering making a jumper … perhaps I’ll make a Weasley sweater for Mrs H3.

Mrs H3 is knitting too. She started making me a Slytherin scarf for Christmas about three years ago and I’m still waiting for it. She has recently moved home and is currently without television or the computer so I told her she might want to finish the scarf for something to do, a suggestion which she didn’t seem too happy with. She has promised that I’ll have it by my fiftieth birthday though – so only another five years to wait!

Photos of the doll will follow once I get him finished. Now, I wonder where I can find a pattern for angel wings?

       

A Catch Up

Here it is almost the end of November and my current total of words for NaNoWriMo stands at zero – yep I’ve not written a single word. At least I haven’t written a word of my novel. I have of course written blog posts for my other blog, written a bit of fan fiction, made lists of stuff, done some writing for work, but the novel has remained elusively out of sight. And so, for this year, I officially give up.

And now it’s almost Christmas again. It seems to me like it was only a few weeks ago that I was writing about it being Christmas last year, time flies so fast these days. I have seen the billboards with the Coke lorry, M&S have released a dreadful Christmas advert and John Lewis have split the country with their offering which is either tedious and mawkish or unbelievably cute and tear-jerking depending on which side of the line you fall. I have to admit to quite liking the advert, although it didn’t reduce me to tears – but then maybe that’s because I was picturing something nasty in the present he’s so eager to give.

I’m actually feeling ahead of the game for probably the first time ever in my life as almost all my presents are bought and are ready to be wrapped (I can’t actually wrap them until my Christmas tree goes up and that doesn’t happen until 1 December, obviously, although it may be delayed as I still have to knit my angel Snape for the top of the tree). The only person who I haven’t yet got a present for is my God-daughter Leanne, but she’s easy to buy for and so I’ll get her sorted in the next few days. As long as there’s no problem with the post I should be all done and dusted by next weekend, which leaves me a few weeks to get cards sorted out, as I haven’t yet got started on those, although I’ve meant to a few times.

One of the nice things about Christmas is the countdown and advent calendars. Whilst I do have the traditional Thornton’s chocolate one (bought by my friend Richard as he has done every year for the last ten years or so) I’m trying to lose a bit more weight and am wrestling over whether to eat it or not. But I also have (and have sent to friends and family) the Jacquie Lawson advent calendar. I got last year’s and it was a delight, having a little animated scene to play out every day, and I understand that Freddie and Aiden enjoyed it almost as much as I did.

I’ve added a few photos from Halloween and the Labyrinth Masked Ball that Mrs H3 and I attended, along with a few other friends (that’s Foxhunter in the Hannibal Lecter outfit). Unfortunately there aren’t many of Mrs H3 as they didn’t come out too well apparently. As you can see we had lots of fun – and no, of course we didn’t get looked at all, travelling across London by tube dressed like that!

 

Hello World

Oh dear, once again my resolution to blog more has been hijacked by life. It’s been a real whirl since I last posted: concerts, parties, farewells, fun times, job losses, lottery wins ….

Okay, actually that last one isn’t true, but I have been a busy beaver recently. I don’t really want to dwell on the second to last item, which I was rather unhappy about  when I found out (a slight understatement), but have pretty much got over now, so let’s concentrate on the more fun stuff instead!

Saturday 24 September was the six month anniversary of my dad’s death. I had brought some of his ashes back to England with the intention of scattering them in the Thames, as he’d wanted, having previously worked as a Thames Lighterman, but it had never seemed quite the right time. As the six months drew nearer, however, it really was time to say goodbye.

Mrs H3 and I took a journey on the Thames Clipper with a view to inconspicuously scattering the ashes as we made our way down the Thames. However, the boat was considerably busier than we’d expected and it was impossible to even get near the side of the boat, let alone empty the ashes without being seen and to add to the stress we were both feeling a little seasick. We therefore sailed to Embankment and walked down to Cleopatra’s Needle, which is a nice spot, and after a few minutes of contemplation and remembrance, added his ashes to the water there. The journey back was on a catamaran rather than a boat and was much better seasickness-wise and, of course, was much quieter (sod’s law) and we could easily have scattered the ashes in the wake. I would love to go on a catamaran at full speed down the Thames without it having to stop every few minutes at the various piers as it would be brilliant fun.

We have been to a few concerts recently, although sadly not I Am Kloot, as astonishingly, they seem to be taking a break from touring. I can only assume this is because Johnny’s girlfriend isn’t happy with him being on the road all the time, as he used to play solo gigs in-between the IAK ones and was therefore touring constantly all year. Hopefully it won’t be too long before they’re back down South, maybe even with a new album (she says hopefully).

Gary Numan played an absolute blinder of a concert (and that’s not just me being biased, honestly). He also made the error of having a decent support act for the first time since the 1980s – a guy called Jayce Lewis (check him out) which meant that instead of being able to get a seat, which we normally manage with no problem as everyone stays in the bar until Gary takes to the stage, the place was packed for the support and we ended up having to stand all night, which was not fun for my poor old arthritic feet.

Pete Doherty was, I have to admit, a real disappointment for us. Having seen him several times over the years we’ve seen the highs and lows that he’s capable of, but this concert – his last for a long time (his words), was absolutely diabolical. Pete has made no secret of the fact that he’s had problems coming to terms with Amy Winehouse’s death and sadly it really showed at Brixton, where once he had come onstage he seemed determined not to stop playing for anything. There were no breaks between the songs, his usual quite skilful guitar playing was a shambles and he spent a good deal of time dedicating songs to Amy and another friend of his who had died recently. His singing, usually a high point, even when he’s been stoned out of his skull, was average at best and below par for most of it. It was sad to see him in such a state and can only agree with his assessment that he needs to go away and sort himself out.

And so onto the Bluetones, who played a wonderful set at Shepherds Bush. I was pleased to see such a good turnout for their final show and Mrs H3 and I both thoroughly enjoyed it, despite Mrs H3 not knowing a single one of their songs, not even their hits. I have to say that part of me was pleased that whilst they were entertaining they weren’t totally fabulous to the extent that I regretted not having been to see them during their previous seventeen years of touring, but I am glad we went to see them at the end.

Marc Almond at Tunbridge Wells Assembly Halls was a much quieter evening and one for which we were late (as we always seem to be for his shows). This was partially due to bad timing advice from Mrs H3’s dad and her dodgy Garmin sat nav, which has a mind of its own and is not always very helpful. Every time we’ve seen Marc he’s always been different and this time was no exception. The first half was mainly him sitting on a stool, with a pianist and a harpist for accompaniment, wearing a pair of grey trousers and a black velvet jacket. It was torch song heaven, surrounded by an amazing amount of table lamps and he made us laugh a couple of times when he cranked up the dry ice and turned the lights way down low as it reminded us of Echo and the Bunnymen, although we could still see Marc as he sang.

The second half was slightly more upbeat, and included a dress change from Marc, into jeans and black leather jacket and his band who were wearing grey suits with Hawaiian shirts. What impressed me most were some of the unusual cover versions he performed, beginning with David Bowie’s ‘John, I’m Only Dancing’, continuing with Syd Barrett’s ‘Terrapin’ and ending with Lou Reed’s ‘The Bed’ – which he amazingly managed to make sound like a half decent song (I’ve always thought this to be one of the most depressing songs ever written and always had a problem listening to the original).

I had a little detour last week, without my partner-in-crime as she was busy elsewhere, to see Rockin’ Republic, a local covers band containing an old friend of mine at a nearby pub. It gave me a chance to catch up with some old friends that I haven’t seen for ages and was a pretty good evening and certainly made a change from sitting in on a Saturday night.

So this takes us to last night and our annual trip to see Alice Cooper at Alexandra Palace, with his Halloween Night of Fear. As always he and his band provided a good show, although it was slightly less theatrical than in previous years and there was a lot of guitar work, I guess due to the fact that he had three guitarists including Lou Reed. However, the snake, dead Ethel and the guillotine were all in attendance as well as a giant Frankenstein’s monster version of Alice. This year there were a lot more people dressed up, as were we, Mrs H3 as a corpse bride and me as a witch with a fabulous feathery bright red hat. There was also a late surprise during the encore, when Arthur Brown appeared onstage to sing his hit ‘Fire’ whilst wearing that famous flaming headdress.  Unfortunately, as ever, we arrived late and missed the support which was the New York Dolls, who I would have liked to have seen, but it also had the added benefit of having missed the freaks who stab themselves and stuff, that Alice so likes to pepper his shows with. All in all another brilliant evening – and in fancy dress too, which always cheers me up.

Tomorrow night is another fancy dress party at the Beacon Court in Gillingham where there will be some live bands and on Thursday we are going to see Blue October, which I’m really excited about as it’s been a long time since they were last in the UK. We’re also having a bonfire party at Mrs H3’s house on Friday, where they are going to let us set fire to things (mad people). Later in the month we’re going to a Labyrinth masquerade ball at the Prince Charles Cinema, where we get to dress up again and wear masks, before spending the evening enjoying David Bowie’s incredibly tight trousers.

Oh, and while I remember, this week saw David Hasselhoff announce a tour of the UK in March next year and of course we have tickets for his date at IndigO2. Unfortunately, we were a little too late for the V.I.P. meet and greet option, but we’ve still got prime seats. Excited? Me not so much, but Mrs H3 certainly is and that’s all that matters.

Of course, it’s also that time of the year again. I mean of course NaNoWriMo, that annual torture where I try to force myself to write 50,000 words of a story and generally fail abysmally – although last year I did manage it, but only by writing fan fiction rather than an original story. This year I’m going into it completely blind, with absolutely no plot, no characters and not even any idea, at this stage, of what type of story I’m going to write. Yep, sounds to me like a cause for failure again too, but I’m not going to let it put me off. So, once more into the breach dear friends!

Autumn

So it's Autumn. The weather is finally showing signs of being vaguely Summery, although subject to change at any moment and the night's are drawing in. I'm now getting up for work and the gym in the dark and noticing the early morning chill in the air. Also depressingly, the first adverts related to Christmas have already been shown on the telly (thanks Sun newspaper!)

The good thing is that with Autumn comes Halloween and, of course, a spate of concerts. I'm really pleased about this as I've been dying of boredom sitting at home without anything interesting to do but nerd out on the internet.

The first of these concerts is tomorrow - Gary Numan at Shepherd's Bush Empire. I am really looking forward to this as it's a showcase for his new album Dead Son Rising that was released this week and I will be buying a copy at the show (one of the few artists that I'm still getting physical copies of their work rather than just the MP3 version).

Next is a visit to see our old mate, Peter Doherty (assuming he manages to stay out of prison until then) at Brixton Academy, which will be good as we missed out on his last concert due to the snow, swiftly followed by a stop to see the final ever concert by The Bluetones at Shepherd's Bush. Then it's a trip to Tunbridge Wells to spend a pleasant evening with the ever lovely Marc Almond, leading us neatly up to Halloween when we will, of course, be joining horror-meister Alice Cooper on his Halloween Night of Fear tour at Alexandra Palace. Then, just when you think everything's calmed down we'll be going mad over Blue October, finally coming back to the UK and appearing at O2 Islington. Sadly there's no sign of any imminent I Am Kloot shows, or even Johnny Bramwell solo evenings, but I'm hoping they'll be doing something soon.

Currently there isn't anything past Blue October, but after that it won't be long until Panto season starts. Whilst there's no majorly exciting productions this year (with the Hoff reproducing his Captain Hook role in Bristol and Brian Blessed not appearing at all) there are still enough to keep us going for a few weeks over the festive season.

If anyone is checking out my old posts you'll notice that many of the photos and slideshows have gone. This is because the company I was using to host them closed down. I do have another hosting site now so future posts will once again feature photos, but I'm not going to bother to put the old photos back unless anyone is desperately interested. If so, please let me know.

Also, I just want to remind you about my health and fitness journal which you can find here. I'm doing quite well so far, but support and recipe ideas are always welcome - and I've managed to get a post in every day so far, which is more than can be said for here, although I really am trying!

Gosh it’s been a long time since I last blogged. I really did mean to start writing again, but time slipped away as it has a nasty habit of doing these days and suddenly it was time for Mrs H3 and I to go on the holiday of a lifetime (something I will be making a separate blog about in the near future, featuring lots of lovely photos) and then there was the extended recovery from the holiday of a lifetime. Suddenly months have gone by, summer (whatever that is) has gone and it’s almost Halloween once again.

So what have I been doing? To be honest with the exception of the holiday - not much. We’ve been to a few concerts and seen a few films, but mostly it’s been a staying in kind of time due to the expense of going to the USA and to Universal Studios and the Wizarding World of Harry Potter in particular.

I will still try to update this blog slightly more often assuming anything interesting happens – there are a few concerts on the not too distant horizon, but I will also be keeping a daily journal to record my latest attempt to live a healthier and fitter life which can be found here. Please feel free to join me over there with any helpful tips, advice or encouragement.

Oh and don’t forget to watch out for the holiday of a lifetime special, coming to a blog near you shortly. 

In Memorium – Raymond Edwin Sexton

I am aware I haven’t posted anything for a very long time (four months excluding the Rebellion post-it, which doesn’t really count), but to be honest, I haven’t actually been in the mood or even really been able to write much.

My wonderful and much beloved father spent the past four and a half years battling with prostate and bone cancer. Although it was something I would normally have blogged about, as I have often used this blog as a stress reliever, I was unable to do so as we’d kept the true severity of his condition a secret so he wouldn’t lose heart and give up. As my father was an avid reader of my blog, always wanting to keep up with what I was doing, it was hard to express my feelings on his illness when he was likely to read it and therefore I moved into complete silence on the subject, but then found it hard, especially once his condition became critical, to write on more light-hearted matters.

As you know, I spent three months in Spain last summer, which was actually to help my mother with caring for my father in what we thought (and were told) were his final days. In fact we spent a week in hospital with him, during which we were all sure that it was only a matter of days if not hours before we lost him. However, being the fighter he always was, dad wasn’t ready to go then (despite dire warnings from every medical person to cross his path - the reason we were keeping it a secret and hence my three month ‘vacation’). As autumn drew on, he began to show an amazing recovery – the pain seemingly absent and with his steely determination he forced himself to get himself out of bed, an amazing feat as the muscles in his legs had almost withered away to nothing. Although not well by any means, he was at least able to enjoy some quality of life again – being able to watch the television, read his beloved books and use the computer, and over time had even managed to get himself walking again with the use of a frame.

Unfortunately, a couple of months ago, in his haste to move (impatience ever being one of his faults, as it is mine) he fell and this set him on a downward path. A detached retina in one eye added to a worsening cataract in the other meant he could no longer read, always his greatest pleasure in life and his worst loss, and a swift return of the pain, increasing to the stage where no painkillers could help (and he was high as a kite from the cocktail of drugs most of the time), meant that for the second time in a year we had to prepare ourselves for the worst. Once again I went to Spain, ready to help my mother, exhausted as she was from the constant round-the-clock care she had been providing since his fall – and of course, to say goodbye to my precious dad.

Heartbreakingly, my father passed away, peacefully and finally free from the pain he’d been in for so long, at nine am on a grey and rainy Thursday, on 24 March 2011.

I had been due to fly home the following day, as the coming weekend (containing Mrs H3’s birthday) was going to be the busiest of the year, with concerts by Chas & Dave and Elbow to go to, as well as an England football game at Wembley and a 1970s themed fancy dress party (an excuse for Mrs H3 to finally wear the roller skates I got for her previous birthday!) At that moment all those things ceased to exist for me and all I could think about was being there to support my mum through those first few tough days (although I will admit I was gutted not to be able to do those things so long planned - especially the Elbow concert, which I understand was brilliant).

The Spanish custom is for the funeral to take place as soon as possible after death, usually within twenty four to forty eight hours. However, mum and dad have a funeral plan (if you live abroad you really need to get one of these, seriously, as it really saves you money and a lot of hassle) which allows them to extend the mortuary time, and the people running the plan were incredibly efficient and extremely helpful. Mum, ever considerate of other people, even at such a distressing time wasn’t keen on the funeral happening on the Saturday, as friends of theirs were celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary at a party that evening, and there was the question of whether any of the family would be attending and so the funeral was arranged for Monday 28 March.

Mum and I, along with Sam, a good friend of my father’s went to view the body (also a Spanish custom as they only ever hold closed coffin funerals) on Sunday evening. This was a strange time for me as I wasn’t sure I wanted to see him, but felt I ought to, in support for my mother. I will admit I only lasted in the room for a few seconds. The body lying in the coffin wasn’t my dad. He was long gone and I couldn’t bear to see his body lying there, looking somehow artificial. There was also an awful smell, although I apparently was the only one who noticed that. Bizarrely, and I suppose it’s always at stressful times you get these odd types of thoughts, the first thing I noticed was that he seemed to be covered in glitter… sparkling you might say, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether my father had turned into a vampire (although I was careful enough to keep that part of the observation to myself).

Monday was a beautiful sunny day, in total contrast to the day of dad’s death and (possibly because of the old wives tale) it made me feel that he was happy now he was free from pain. As he was an ex-Serviceman, the Royal British Legion (of which he was a member) gave him a Service funeral which was held in a nice chapel in a lovely modern-looking Tantatorio in Orihuela. The coffin, draped in the RAF flag and bearing a poppy wreath and a tribute from my mother, sister and I stood in place of honour as standard bearers carried their flags into the chapel and took their places for the service. This was conducted by a friendly and caring lay preacher called Keith Brown and was heart warming and touching, at times both funny and sad.

Originally mum and I had decided we weren’t going to say anything at the funeral, but surfing the web the day after dad’s passing I found a poem which expressed perfectly just how his last moments had been and how mum, Jo and I felt about his leaving us. As soon as I saw it I knew I had to read it at the service, although every time I read it through the words always left me in tears and both I and the preacher were a little worried that I wouldn’t be able to go through with it.

Although upset and still somewhat raw during the service, I was determined I wasn’t going to cry. If I’d done that the poem definitely wouldn’t have been read as I’d never have been able to stop for long enough to get through it. Instead I gritted myself and tried not to think about the sadness as I waited for my cue, about half way through the service. I was so glad they didn’t play any of the music we’d chosen before my big moment or I’d have been a blubbering mess.

And then it was my turn. Suddenly I had to read the poem (slowly, Keith had told me) and it was then, standing at the lectern and looking out at the mourners that I realized just how many people had come to the funeral. The room was full and all those people were looking expectantly at me as I tried not to lose it up there in front of everyone. I took a long deep breath then launched into an explanation of how I’d come across the poem and finally said the words that meant so much to us:

God saw you getting tired,
When a cure was not to be.
So He wrapped his arms around you,
and whispered, "come to me."

You didn't deserve what you went through,
So He gave you rest.
God's garden must be beautiful,
He only takes the best

And when I saw you sleeping,
So peaceful and free from pain
I could not wish you back
To suffer that again.

Amazingly, I managed to get through it without crying for the first time ever, but almost before I had a chance to sit down mum’s choice of song came on – “True Love Ways” by Buddy Holly and that was it for me. With mum sobbing openly now, all I could do was stroke her arm and try to comfort her as my own tears flowed silently down my cheeks. How we got through the farewell, where mum and I stood by dad’s coffin as the Kohima Epitaph was recited and the standards were withdrawn I don’t remember, I was too busy thinking of dad to take much notice of what was happening. And then they were playing our second choice, dad’s favourite song by his favourite band – “Wild West Hero” by E.L.O. and my tears were no longer silent. The song, always a favourite of mine too, evoked such strong memories of my dad that I couldn’t help but release the pent-up sorrow that I’d been holding inside for so long.

And then it was over and the final Spanish custom (touching the coffin to say farewell) was taking place, with mum and I at the head of the procession. Outside, we talked to the huge quantity of people that had attended and I admitted that I’d been terrified about my reading. Many of them told me the poem had been absolutely perfect for the occasion and most had assumed I’d written it as it was so “from the heart”. I shall state here that I’ve no idea who wrote the poem as it is generally credited as being by an unknown author, although several people have claimed credit for it, if Google is anything to go by.

Flowers are also not a Spanish custom, so instead we had asked people to make a donation for the Paul Cunningham Nurses, who had done so much to help dad in his final year. I am pleased to say that this raised almost five hundred euros for the charity.

And so a month has passed. In some ways it all seems like a distant memory, yet in others it’s still as raw as it was on the morning of dad’s death. I won’t lie, there were a few tears yesterday morning at 8am when I realised that it was exactly a month since he’d left us. A part of me can’t believe that he won’t be there waiting for me when I return to Spain and I know that whilst he will always be with me in my heart there will also be a little part of me missing that will never heal.

Jo, Freddie and I will be heading back to Spain in May, to spend a week with mum – giving her the chance to enjoy her grandson properly, for the first time, and giving us all a chance to say a final goodbye to dad as we scatter his ashes up in the mountains where he used to walk to the dogs.

Goodbye dad.