Rocks and rolls

Greetings campers (although we’re not camping, that’s next week) and welcome to Corfu.

With Jamie hopefully off to the World Scout Jamboree next summer and possibly doing something else the following summer (don’t worry, no fundraising), this could be our last sunny family trip for a while. So we’re determined to tear the arse out of it.

I’m thrilled to report that it’s going to plan thus far. Yesterday’s journey across the sea and stuff was spot on. It seems Leeds Bradford Airport - Jet2 in particular - are outdoing themselves, good for them.

The food’s been great (and not stupidly expensive), the locals here have been chilled and even the sea’s been get-inable (I’m not good with cold water, especially at this age).

I can swim but I’m not a good swimmer. That’s why I was a bit pleased to make it all the way to the rocks with Jamie, and even make it back too.

That said, I was late to the party, with Jamie having already made it there and back with his mother and sister only minutes earlier.

Then we went to the pool.

Tonight, we had some Greek food, as you/we would.

It came eventually.

And afterwards, Jamie met a little kitten.

We called him Barry because, in normal circumstances, you wouldn’t even lumber a stray animal with that moniker. And yet we did. 

Before I go, let’s talk bathrooms.

Here’s ours. 

It’s been quite a while since we’ve been to Greece so I forgot about the national arrangements.

I make two observations.

First, why is there only one side on the shower thingy? The drain on the floor is there for a reason. (The reason being it’s not a fab idea to have a one-sided shower).

Second, check out the sign above the shitster.

The dark depths of my brain reminded me of this state of affairs but let’s not dwell/smell.

On a practical level, the rule in our resort is that you’ve got to request more hole roll from reception. 

So, because ladies don’t poo, Jamie has been designated as our pipe wipe picker upper because I’m not doing it.  

I’ll be in touch.

Job done

Thanks to the support of many, many magnificent people, Jamie's 12-hour spinathon to help fund his trip to next year's 25th World Scout Jamboree in South Korea was a huge success.

Indeed, it could not have gone better.

The sun shone, the flow of people to help with the pedaling and cheer him on never stopped - and neither did the donations.

If one major pledge of support materialises, it seems that at least £1,000 will have been raised, a simply eye watering amount.  We'll let you know a precise figure when everything is in. With £3,800 required for the trip, there is still a lot of work to be done but we are well on the way.

As well as the pedaling, Charlotte's cake sale was a stormer with every one snaffled well before the end.

Leaving Charlotte with time to do a bit of pedaling too.

Earlier in the day, my old mate Paul "Merv" Gail came along on behalf of the Coleraine massive, with lots of donations making their way across the Irish Sea throughout the day.

The most heart-warming moment was when the wonderful members of 15th Airedale Scouts arrived to support Jamie - and stayed for three hours.

Almost all had a go, including James who, along with Kathrin and Harry, have led the pack in such an inspiring way - despite the challenges of Covid.

Without their help, Jamie would not be going to South Korea.  He will be forever in their debt.

Thanks so much to them and to everyone who has supported him in any way with the spinathon and in other ways.  

A special mention must go to Rob Rattray at Syno Education, who was lead sponsor of yesterday's goings on, Chris Kempton for providing the extra kit needed for Jamie's bike, plus Guiseley AFC,  Wharfedale Observer, Ilkley Gazette, BCB Radio, Yorkshire Post, Yorkshire Evening Post, Telegraph & Argus, Leeds Live and Bradford Zone who did so much to help us promote the event.  We are grateful to you all.

Thoughts have already turned to what comes next, with a couple of straws in the wind.  Full details will be revealed when everything is nailed down but fun will be the prime motivator in what we do.

In the meantime, Jamie's GoFundMe page remains open should you have some spare coppers to chuck in his virtual bucket.   

Thank you again, you're fab. 

In a spin

I wrote here late last year that Jamie had been chosen as a member of the UK Contingent travelling to the 25th World Scout Jamboree in South Korea next summer.

He'll be one of over 40,000 scouts from more than 150 countries around the globe.

One of the conditions of attending the event, in the best traditions of the movement, is that each scout must raise the costs of making the trip themselves.

Charlotte held a little cake sale just before Christmas to get the ball rolling.

Then, in April, Jamie fronted a jamming session at Aireborough Rugby Club with musical friends.  That's him on the mandolin beside Andy Smith (left), the brains of the operation. 

Act Three of the fundraising thriller will be written on Saturday when Jamie begins a 12-hour spinathon on our driveway.  

Thanks to Chris Kempton, who kindly provided the necessary equipment, Jamie and assorted others (yes, including me) will keep the wheels turning from 8am to 8pm with passers-by gently encouraged to chuck some spare readies into his bucket.  

And, as the good folk of Yorkshire may have read in their local papers, his sister has stepped forward again with the offer to sell more cakes. 

The media coverage - including a long radio interview with Jamie - has really helped to stimulate donations.

The wonderful Rob Rattray, the main man at Syno Education, has also stepped forward as Jamie's first corporate sponsor.   It is greatly appreciated and where Rob has characteristically led, hopefully other businesses will follow by getting in touch with me directly (Tel 07787 514324 or email barry@vanbarassociates.com) 

Jamie also has a GoFundMe page which has attracted support from friends and strangers alike. Should you wish to join them, you can do so clicking on to THIS LINK.     

Saturday should be a fun day.  I'll keep you informed.   

50-year old Virgin

Wednesday 2 July 1997 is a date I will never forget.

It was the day I met Richard Branson and John Major, and appeared on the BBC Six and Ten O'Clock News.  (Oh, and I also met my future wife but that's not relevant to this story).

Yes, Richard Branson.  He was hosting a Virgin Atlantic reception in Westminster that night and one of the MPs I worked for took me along as his plus one.

My experience of meeting my first billionaire was initially underwhelming.  First, he had broken his right hand which was in a cast and was reduced to giving guests a rather limp left hand to waggle.  Second, as he waggled my hand, he was actually talking to someone else and didn't look at me.  

Unperturbed, I was determined to have a word which I did after a couple of glasses of posh fizz.  

I wanted to tell him about the time he flew over our house in Coleraine in his big balloon in July 1987, after initially touching down in Limavady before landing with a splash in the sea off the coast of Portrush.  

My dad was in our back garden and saw Branson's stricken "Virgin Atlantic Flyer" drift overhead.  

Sadly, I was on the toilet at the critical moment and missed the whole thing, but chose not to share this anticlimactic fact with my host.  (To be fair, I'm not convinced this would have heightened his enthusiasm for my monologue which did not appear to be hitting its target).

We all had to put our business cards in a big bowl as we left (I had a homemade card I designed in the Post Office) and, about a week later, all attendees received a signed letter from the great man to say thank you for coming and what a wonderful company Virgin Atlantic was.

As the least important guest at the event (on the grounds that I hadn't been invited), I took it upon myself to respond to say thank you back.

To my surprise, I received a second letter from Branson about a month later, this time a handwritten job on notepaper headed with his home address. 

I make no apology for saying that I have written to him at least a dozen more times over the past 25 years although never received another reply - until yesterday.

Because last night, when I was celebrating my 50th birthday at home with Vanessa and the kids, a knock came to our front door.  It was a courier with a letter for me.

It was from a gentleman by the name of George Whitesides, Chair of Virgin Galactic's Space Advisory Board.  

Unfortunately Charlotte has taken the letter to school to show her classmates so I'll have to paraphrase.  But in short, he said that Richard Branson had told him of my many years of writing to him and he was aware that yesterday was my "special day" (i.e. I had turned 50).

And to celebrate this "momentous occasion" (I remember some of the phraseology) he was inviting me to "take a trip to the stars" on board one of his Virgin Galactic planes.  Goodness knows how much these flights cost but I suppose that's not my problem.   

It takes off and lands in New Mexico where I've got to go for two days' training with the flight on day three.  They will cover the costs of getting me there, plus accommodation - further details to follow. Sadly the flight won't be until 2025 - when I'll actually be 53 - but I'm not going to quibble.

Because for the next three years I can go to bed every night every night in the knowledge that I am to become Coleraine's first spaceman.  (Eat your heart out, Jimmy Nesbitt).