Task 30: Take a Caterham for a spin in the Sussex countryside

Michael, our older son, is a mechanical engineer, and like so many engineers before him, decided to build himself a kit car. He collected various large pieces of metal, went on a welding course, bought himself a boiler suit and set to work in our garage. Meanwhile Andrew and I dreamt of being taken for nippy little rides along country lanes. That was in 2006. In 2011 I threw a wobbly, the pieces of partially welded metal were swiftly removed from our garage, and the kit car was re-homed in Derby where Michael lives.  Here's an up to date photo of the car, hot off the press, taken outside Michael's workshop. Note that the car now boasts two very fine embryonic front wheels and some interesting inner bits - that's definitely progress. But somehow I don't think we're going to get our ride in it this side of er - 2020?

So earlier this year when my friend Linda suggested taking her partner Peter's Caterham kit car for a spin as one of my sixtyat60 tasks, it seemed like far too good an opportunity to miss. 

On Sunday, the day before our Caterham spin, I experienced something of a sartorial meltdown - I mean, what does one wear when riding in a jazzy little sports car through the leafy lanes of Sussex on a sunny September day? In the end I decided that the best course of action was to model myself upon Bridget Jones (I refer you to the film Bridget Jones' Diary), who in the infamous sports car scene with Daniel Cleaver was modelling herself upon a screen goddess. On Monday Andrew and I duly eased ourselves (and I do mean eased ourselves) into the Caterham and posed for the camera. Here below are Bridget & Daniel and Andrew & me (I should just explain that Andrew and I are in the right hand photo in case you're finding it difficult to tell the difference).

       

Peter had spent hours fine tuning, polishing and buffing up the Caterham so that it would look at its very best for our mini road trip. Andrew firmly gripped the wheel, revved the engine, eased the car into first gear - and we were away! 

I suspect if anyone were to read through all my blogs to date, they'd notice that I have a bit of an obsession with the weather. I feel sure I use the phrase 'bluer than blue' far too often. But the sky was....well, very blue on Monday. Which was especially fantastic since we'd originally arranged to do the task on a summer's day in August and had to put our plans on hold because it was bucketing down with rain. This is what the view was like from inside the car on Monday.

Andrew did most of the driving through the leafy lanes. I took over for about 5 miles where the road was straight and not too bumpy, but in truth I really enjoyed being a passenger. It may not surprise you to hear that Andrew loved being at the wheel - he had a big smile on his face from start to finish (I watched him gradually morphing into Toad of Toad Hall). 

We met up with Linda and Peter at the Ginger Fox near Albourne for lunch. The food was wonderful and really good value.  We all returned to the car park feeling full of bonhomie (and calories) and took a selfie to mark the occasion. I do think Peter is looking a little squeezed out of the photo, which seems very unfair after all his hard work. Andrew and I returned to our own car. What an anticlimax. Andrew uttered small 'poop poop' noises all the way home. 

I'm really grateful to LInda for coming up with such a great idea, to Peter for allowing us to take over the controls of his special vehicle, and to both of them for being splendid Caterham companions. It was a lovely task from beginning to end - my scarf didn't fly off like Bridget's, the weather stayed dry, and the car wasn't stolen, even though Andrew accidentally left the keys in the ignition all through lunch...... 

Michael - over to you now - we're counting the days!

I'm doing the sixtyat60challenge to raise funds for Alzheimer's Research UK. For further information or to make a donation please visit my JustGiving page at https://www.justgiving.com/Vivien-Hunot  

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Task 32: Flamenco dancing in Seville, Spain

When my daughter Lucy was on her gap year ten years ago, she travelled round Europe for two months and became a bit of an expert on European cities. She admits now that her assessments may have been slightly biased by the quality of the youth hostels she stayed at. But one city that she took a special shine to was Seville. 'Oh Mum, Seville's totally wicked!!' she enthused at the time, 'You must go there!!!' 

Seville was duly added to our ongoing travel programme (Lucy was very convincing), but when push came to shove, it always seemed to lose out to another destination. And then back in April this year my hairdresser Emma happened to mention that she'd just returned from a flamenco festival in Seville. Her description of it made my eyes gleam - and Task 32 was on my sixtyat60 list in the time it took Emma to get her scissors out. 

At my 60th birthday lunch a few weeks later, I was handed a fat envelope by Jonathan and Liz. In the envelope were the booking details for a long weekend in Seville at a boutique hotel, together with tickets for a flamenco show and a note saying 'Enjoy working your way through the 60 at 60 challenge! Hopefully we can help you on the way.' I was very touched by their support - and goodness, what an amazingly fantastic present!
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Andrew and I duly arrived in sunny Seville last Friday. The temperature was a sizzling 37 degrees and the sky was bluer than blue, as you can see in the photos below. We were staying in the old part of the city, where there are an abundance of quaint and quirky cobbled streets. Everywhere we went we could see evidence of flamenco - toy guitars, flouncy dresses, castonets, shawls and ornamental combs, not to mention men hovering around restaurant tables strumming guitars (one of Andrew's pet hates by the way)......yes, Seville clearly lives and breathes flamenco.  

  

We spent our first day sightseeing in the sunshine. We explored the third largest cathedral in the world, climbed up the Giralda tower, cooled down in the gardens of Real Alcazar Palace and had a tour round the Plaza de Toros (no bull- fighting that day I hasten to add). We also stopped for regular glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice.  

         

But the highlight of the weekend - and the focus of Task 32 of course - was the flamenco show on Saturday evening at Casa de la Guitarra.  We arrived at the venue to be greeted by the host of the show, who welcomed us all as if we were his personal guests. He ushered us into a small and intimate room, which contained a tiny stage, seating for about 50 people (each of us had our name marked out on a chair), and cases of rare antique guitars on the walls.

A guitarist kicked things off with a series of beautiful flamenco pieces, after which he was joined by a male singer who sang songs of despair in a curiously haunting cracked voice. And then the dancer 'La Yera' appeared on the stage. Wow......the power, the passion, the intensity, the speed of her tapping feet - she was astounding! The show felt completely authentic -it seemed clear that we were watching professionals at the top of their game - and we left La Casa an hour later in very high spirits. 

Having read my account so far, you may well be thinking this task was entirely about pleasure and fun, and it certainly was that. However, just a few days before our trip, Emma (my aforementioned hairdresser) decided to push me outside my comfort zone a little by daring me to have my photo taken in a flamenco dress while I was in Seville - and on hearing about this dare, Jonathan upped the ante by saying he wanted to see Andrew dressed as a flamenco dancer too. Oh noooo!!  During the weekend, this challenge did weigh on our minds a little. Then I had one of my mini brainwaves. We headed over to a busy touristy spot in the nearby Plaza de Espagna, took a deep breath, approached a young man, slipped him 3 euros, got our heads into position and subjected ourselves to 120 seconds of public humiliation and embarrassment in front of a gathering crowd of onlookers.  Did we achieve the dare? Well I like to think so! The things we do for good causes eh.

The above experience not withstanding, I whole-heartedly agree with Lucy's assessment of Seville - it is a totally wicked city!  Massive thanks and the biggest of hugs to Jonathan and Liz for a memorable 60th birthday present. Tiny tattoos next Liz....... 

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I'm doing the sixtyat60challenge to raise funds for Alzheimer's Research UK. For further information or to make a donation please visit my JustGiving page at https://www.justgiving.com/Vivien-Hunot  

Task 26: Admire the Tudor treasure trove at the Mary Rose Museum

When I was 9 years old, I was fascinated by archaeology. I was given a book for Christmas called 'All about archaeology' by Anne Terry White and I used to read and re-read her stories about ancient hidden treasures. My absolute favourite was the one describing the discovery of the Sutton Hoo Saxon ship in Suffolk. Needless to say, my burning ambition was to become a world famous archaeologist. 

As I grew up, I let go of my obsession for archaeology and hidden treasures. Then on 11 October 1982, the hull of the Mary Rose, Henry XIII's favourite flagship, was lifted out of the water a mile from Portsmouth Harbour, and in a flash my former obsession was re-triggered. The mystery - why did the Mary Rose sink? The excitement - all those Tudor warship artefacts. The tragedy - only 35 from the crew of 500 men survived. The envy - if I'd stuck to my childhood dreams, I could have been the female chief archaeologist in charge instead of that lucky lady Margaret Rule.

After many hours of watching the extraordinary salvage operation take place live on my TV screen, did I leg it down to Portsmouth to see the Mary Rose and her treasure trove of artefacts?  Er.......no. Somehow life just seemed to get in the way. Until at last, thirty-three years on, it was added to my sixtyat60 list as Task 26. And since Portsmouth is situated somewhere between East Sussex and North Devon, my North Devon-based friend and colleague Rachel agreed (I'm delighted to say I didn't have to press gang her) to accompany me on this childhood-inspired task. 

Last Thursday morning, Rachel and I met at Portsmouth Royal Dockyard and after a vital coffee break to plot our course for the day, we navigated our way to the Mary Rose Museum. The museum building has been designed around the Mary Rose in such a way that she can be observed by visitors whilst the the final stage in the preservation process is completed. Her timbers are being slowly dried out with air pipped through long ducts in tightly controlled conditions, and visitors can only view her from behind glass screens. 

Our first sighting of the Mary Rose was in fact a rather fine model of her. We decided that a photo of me standing next to the model would be reasonable evidence that I was actually at the museum.  

We then entered into the dimly lit viewing gallery and made our way to the first window. I was holding my breath. Back in 1982 when the hull was first brought to the surface, I thought quietly to myself that it didn't seem all that large. So I was preparing to see a structure of very modest proportions. But oh my goodness....there the hull was, towering above me, with a series of decks still attached in an almost perfect cross-section.  I was transfixed! We walked along each of the three viewing decks to gaze at the ship from different levels and angles. Her size isn't conveyed in the photo below at all (and she's somewhat hidden behind the air ducts), but I thought I must show it to you anyway. 

Of course, a key feature of the museum is the Tudor treasure trove of artefacts. There are many instruments of war on display, including beautifully decorated cannons and shot, archers' longbows, swords, small iron guns and the like.  But of more interest to me were the day to day 'living ship' items that have been carefully extracted from the silt. There was the surgeon's hat and his instruments (oh my heavens, that poor crew, the super-large syringe for treating venereal diseases and the trepanning tool would have had me in full flight to the crow's nest) and the cook's kitchen gadgets, including an Aga-like brick oven, two vast cauldrons, and loads of oak storage barrels. I was especially moved by the cook's shoes. 

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The museum is about to close for the final phase of restoration, after which the glass screens will be removed and the air ducts dismantled - and then the Mary Rose will once again be on open view to all. And when that day arrives in summer 2016, Rachel and I are determined to be at the front of the queue! A huge thank you to Rachel for being my trusty companion on board the Mary Rose (see below - you can tell I don't know how to take a decent selfie) - a brilliant day at Portsmouth Historic Dockyard.

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I'm doing the sixtyat60challenge to raise funds for Alzheimer's Research UK. For further information or to make a donation please visit my JustGiving page at https://www.justgiving.com/Vivien-Hunot  

Task 23: Tracey Emin’s bed at Tate Britain

I've been asked a number of times over the past few months where the idea for my sixtyat60 challenge originated from. Time to clear up that particular little mystery! Several summers ago I was having lunch with my friend Hilary, and she happened to mention that she was in the midst of putting together a wishlist of sixty cultural activities to celebrate her sixtieth birthday. The list sounded amazing and a lot of fun......so much so that I couldn't resist squirrelling away the idea for myself. The twelve 'culture vulture' tasks that kick off my own list were inspired by Hilary's original concept - and so who better to accompany me on a culture vulture task than my paragon of inspiration Hilary?  

The setting for Task 23 was Tate Britain, a beautiful neo-classical building near the Thames at Millbank.  Its exterior oozes culture and it was looking at its very best against the backdrop of glorious September sunshine and the bluest of blue skies last Thursday (see photo below - please ignore tourist in jeans unwittingly taking centre-stage). 

So why did I want to see Tracey's bed? Quite simply, curiosity. What was it about this installation that had shocked and polarised opinion 17 years ago? How could a messy bed generate a current price tag of £2.5 million? And what was the human story behind the installation (ever the psychotherapist me...)?

Tracey's My Bed was installed in its own small gallery at the far end of the building.  Here's our first sighting of it. Anyone stepping over the brown line around the bed would set off an alarm, although there was no warning of this, so it went off every couple of minutes and everyone just ignored it.

Hilary asked me for my initial reaction to the bed. I had to confess that my instincts as a one time mother of three teenagers were kicking in.  On the face of it the installation looked very sordid and student-like. I wanted to straighten up Tracey's slippers, recycle the empty booze bottles, strip the sheets and throw open the windows. I remember reading that a cleaner had once hoovered the piece of blue carpet by mistake and frankly I could understand why she did so.  

Then we began to become intrigued by the items strewn around the bed. There was a soft toy dog, loads of different tablets, a sachet of ketchup, a packet of blister plasters, a razor, a mirror - not just the used contraceptives, dirty underwear and KY jelly that journalists always like to highlight.  We were also struck by the 1998 timewarp - no mobile phone, tablet, kindle or charger, almost unthinkable in 2015. And another random thought - all those cigarette butts and packets, yet not a sign of matches or lighter??  

As we became drawn into the detail of the installation, we got to thinking about the state of mind that Tracey Emin had been in at that time. A relationship had just broken up and she was in a state of suicidal despair. She must have been in her mid-30s at that point, which seemed to give the scene added bleakness. We agreed that her ability to step back and observe the bed as a conceptual piece of work at a point when her life had felt so intolerable, together with her willingness to expose her inner turmoil to the world, was nothing short of impressive. 

Tracey Emin commented recently that whilst in the 90s 'My Bed' was all about cool Britannia and the shock factor, she thinks it now shows how time affects all of us (she says the black leather belt on the floor of the installation used to go round her waist and now only fits around her thigh). Certainly a quick eyeball of my childrens' bedrooms in their own homes these days shows change over time - not a single soggy towel on the floor anywhere now. 

Hilary and I stood by Tracey's bed and talked about it for over an hour - perhaps that's an indicator of its £2.5 million value?  Here's the evidence that we really were there (we weren't standing on the bed, honest).

And finally, how many cigarette packets could we see littered around Tracey's bed? The answer is...........three packets.

So a brilliant first visit to Tate Britain for me (I can't wait to go back and look round the other galleries) and a really interesting insight into 90s BritArt and its doyenne.  A big thank you to Hilary for a wonderful afternoon of musings - I'm already looking forward to our next cultural expedition to the Jerwood Gallery in Hastings!

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I'm doing the sixtyat60challenge to raise funds for Alzheimer's Research UK. For further information or to make a donation please visit my JustGiving page at https://www.justgiving.com/Vivien-Hunot  

Task 8: Hold a snake

When I was working as a psychotherapist, people often came to see me because they wanted to deal with phobias and anxieties. 'It may sound illogical' I used to say, 'but avoiding whatever it is that makes you anxious will make you more anxious - the best thing you can do is face your fears'. When compiling my Sixtyat60 list, I decided it was about time I tried facing a few of my own fears, one of which involves snakes. 

My fear of snakes isn't so much about the thought of being bitten, poisoned, constricted or squeezed, but rather a feeling of complete revulsion - I literally shudder from top to toe whenever I see a photo or image of a snake. Apparently this disgust response is quite common and to date it hasn't had a significant effect on my life - after all we're not exactly teeming with snakes in East Sussex - but the principle of confronting a fear is an important one,  and in any case, we're going to Mumbai and Goa in November where snakes can apparently pop up anywhere (just read this article in the Mumbai Mirror - eeekkk!!)

The first challenge in Task 8 was to find a way of getting up close and personal with a snake. As fortune would have it, our vet Kirsty is a reptile specialist, and she was able to put me in contact with a couple called Pat and Mick in Eastbourne who keep a variety of reptiles. I spoke with Mick on the phone, and found out that they own three corn snakes and a boa constrictor called Boris. A visit to their house was duly arranged. No going back now.....

The day of my snake visit dawned earlier this week.  Lisa arrived to clean the house and heard about my latest challenge. She got very enthusiastic about it and said she would double the donation she was planning to give me if I put Boris round my neck. My anxiety levels soared skyward at the image of an 8ft snake wrapped around my neck. The day passed slowly. At 7pm Andrew and I arrived at the House of the Snakes. I didn't want to go inside.  'Just do it' said Andrew (spoken like a true CBT therapist). 

Pat and Mick were lovely - very calm, cheerful and down to earth. They were clearly used to people like me! We went into the sitting room, which is where the three corn snakes are kept in a vivarium. Now at this point I should just explain that my  knowledge of corn snakes is based solely on my experience of a small one called Skittles that our godson James owned in his early adolescence. Like I say, Skittles was a small snake - about 4 feet shorter than the extremely long snake called Arthur that Mick deftly extracted from the vivarium. My anxiety levels hit the ceiling. Arthur was so massive....he looked so slippery and slimy (sorry Arthur, I know that sounds very rude).....and oh my word, he just kept sliding and coiling around and up Mick's arm.... 'Just sit with the anxiety and you'll find it'll gradually settle down' I used to say to my clients. So I just sat with it. And gradually my anxiety did settle and I began to notice Arthur's beady eyes, which were rather sweet and twinkly. 

Then I touched Arthur. He didn't feel at all slimy of course, he just felt cold and smooth, a bit like marble. Then Mick placed part of Arthur's body on my open hands. Oooarrggh.....waves of revulsion.....

Gradually I became more brave. About half an hour or so later - just look at me and Arthur bonding!

And finally here's a video-clip. Pat and I were talking about the effect Alzheimer's has on other members of the family, but as you'll see I was finding it quite difficult to concentrate as Arthur was trying to grab my attention. 

After my session with Arthur, Andrew and I went upstairs to see Mick's collection of gekkos and lizards, and to pay our respects to Boris the boa constrictor, who has been staying with Pat and Mick for 3 weeks since leaving a home where he was apparently unknowingly shut in a bedroom for 9 months without food.  I found myself stroking him quite willingly - poor Boris, what an awful time he's been through.....but we decided it was best not to take him out of his 'viv' so that I could hold him.  Really sorry Lisa - it wasn't to be!  

As I look back at the photos now, I honestly can't believe that I actually managed to hold a snake, let alone one of that size. I'm very grateful to Kirsty our vet for putting me in contact with Pat and Mick - and a huge thank you goes to Pat and Mick for helping me to confront my fears. Pat and Mick belong to an organisation called East Sussex Reptile and Amphibian Society (ESRAS). The website is at http://www.esras.co.uk and contains lots of interesting information, including photos of all sorts of snakes. I looked at the photos just now and do you know I didn't shudder once - now that's progress!

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I'm doing the sixtyat60challenge to raise funds for Alzheimer's Research UK. For further information or to make a donation please visit my JustGiving page at https://www.justgiving.com/Vivien-Hunot  

  

Task 40: Bake a loaf of bread

I've only tried to bake bread once in my life. I was newly married, Andrew and I had just relocated from London to rural Sussex and bread-making seemed the thing to do.  However my dough mixture refused to rise (I think it took offence at being shoved into our tatty airing cupboard at the proving stage), and once baked, it was more solid than cement. So bread-making was swiftly crossed off my list of wifely duties and I've never attempted it again.

Fast forward 38 years to a conversation earlier this year with my brother David about my Sixtyat60 challenge during which I invited him to suggest a task to add to my list. His first idea was rejected out of hand (no, never in a million years will I take a ride on a roller coaster David), however his second idea sounded just the ticket - to bake a loaf of bread and make a jar of jam. I imagined the smell of freshly baked bread, the soothing qualities of kneeding and the pleasure of watching syrupy berries bubble contentedly on the Aga, and my bread-making failure of 38 years ago slipped away into my unconscious. What perfect skills to have in retirement I thought - two excellent tasks for my list.

Last weekend I duly arrived at David's house for my masterclass in bread and jam-making. Before I go any further, there are three things you should know about David. Firstly, he's morphed into something of a Master Baker since his retirement from the world of psychiatry two years ago. Secondly, he and his partner Henry have one of the nicest, smartest, largest and best equipped kitchens this side of the Thames Estuary. And thirdly, he's supremely well organised. So whilst I wrote copious notes, asked many pernickety and probably pointless questions, took lots of photos, prodded, briefly kneeded, and occasionally stirred, two different types of loaf and 4 pots of damson jam were effortlessly created before my very eyes. 

The photo on the left below show the breads rising beautifully in David's collapsible prover (which I've fallen in love with - yes, I know that sounds strange). And the photo on the right shows the baked breads. 

     
Here's David looking quite pleased (as well he should) with his efforts, and here are the two of us together, with me outrageously attempting to take 50% of the credit for the stunning sourdough loaf.

 

As the dough was obediently rising and baking, David turned his attention to the damsons. He put them (already prepped - I told you he was organised) into a shiny saucepan with sugar and water. The mixture bubbled, it reached 120 degrees, it set and it was duly poured into jars. I wrote the labels for the jam jars - a small but (I like to think) vital role.  

     

                                      

Of course the best bit of all was eating the bread with loads of tangy damson jam on it and I was very good at doing that.  Back at home I had such a large piece of bread smothered with so much jam that when I showed the photo below to my daughter Lucy and my daughter-in-law Liz, they thought I was eating a slice of watermelon. 

As you can tell I had a great day - it was lots of fun and a massive thank you to David for a very fine demonstration.

HOWEVER.......

if you think I've got off lightly with this task, let me just assure you that there's a fiendish twist to it. In Task 41 I'm required to replicate the skills demonstrated by David in his Masterclass. I shall be making crab apple jelly using the fruit picked from a trio of young malus trees in our garden AND baking a loaf of white bread.  My kitchen is very poorly equipped for bread-baking (looks like it'll have to be an airing cupboard effort again) and all of a sudden those memories of abject failure 38 years ago are flooding back. Me baking bread? Are you having a laugh? Watch this space....... 

If you would like to follow this blog click here for information on how to do so. 

My sixtyat60challenge is to raise funds for Alzheimer's Research UK. For further information or to make a donation please visit my JustGiving page at https://www.justgiving.com/Vivien-Hunot  

Task 1: Complete a 10k run in less than 60 minutes - polite appeal!

Of all the tasks on my sixtyat60 challenge, I think it's fair to say that Task 1 is the one giving me the greatest pause for thought right now (although taming the saxophone and steeling myself to hold a snake are a pretty close second - hmm yes, and that tiny tattoo.....) 

I've been plugging away at my running for the past 3 months and I have managed to increase my distance and pace - but oh my goodness so slowly.  Then last Friday, a couple of minutes before I headed out for a morning run, an email popped up in my inbox alerting me to the fact that a lovely friend of mine had made a donation to Alzheimer's Research UK through my JustGiving page. I felt a little whoosh of happiness and started running with a bounce in my step.  Two rather surprising things happened - firstly, I ran a whole kilometre further than I've ever managed before, and secondly, I shaved 2 minutes off my personal best.  I was astounded!  Was my RunKeeper app trying to give me a bit of a boost?  Or did the donation actually inspire me to up my game?  Of course I'd like to think it was the latter......

So I'm going to make my first official attempt to complete Task 19 on Sunday 18th October when I take part in the Worthing Seafront 10k Fun (fun - really??) Run, which I registered for yesterday. It'll be the first organised run I've ever done in my entire life and that thought alone is giving me palpitations, let alone the thought of trying to beat a 60 minute deadline. But I'm determined to give it my best shot!  Andrew wants me to wear a t-shirt with the words 'It's a hill. Get over it'. Except there aren't likely to be any hills on the Worthing Seafront Fun Run. So I shall be wearing my stylish ARUK t-shirt instead (see below - note devoted fans at my feet).

If you think my run is worthy of a donation, however small, I know from my experience last Friday that your support will really help to inspire me, and even more importantly, will fund much needed research into treatments for dementia. For further information and/or to make a donation please visit my JustGiving page at https://www.justgiving.com/Vivien-Hunot  


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