Return to York

Acomb is No1 for charity shops and pies!

Our tour of Northern England included a couple of days in York staying with our pregnant and showing Sarah and Rob. Having wandered around York with a class of 30 kids earlier in the year, I was quite eager to get back there and look around without having to count heads all day.

I decided to go for a run. The last 2 weeks have been away and have involved eating lots of food, mainly junk and plenty of it. But I have had very few runs. Getting motivated to get out of bed and run in traffic in Manchester was hard so I didn't bother. York however has a couple of rivers running through it so I headed down one into the city centre where I had planned to run the circuit of the city walls. However the city walls are not complete and at 2 points they run and you have to find your way to the next section. I found myself right in the heart of the shopping centre in my skimpy vest and shorts, looking slightly out of place and lost. York is a city but it has a small town feel about it. I noticed this when I happened to see Anna Woodcock an old friend of ours and relative through marriage sat in her office window. It would be rude not to go and wave, and she politely came out to say hello to me. Eventually I managed to pick up the walls again and found my way to Acomb, the village where we were staying. Then I bumped into another person I knew. Derek Wooldridge used to run the camps in Criccieth before I did. He is a legend and someone I always associate with York. There he was walking in the rain. it was nice to stop and have a chat, although it must have been a bit strange for him to see me on his street on a friday morning.

The rest of the visit included a trip to the York Dungeon. Stuart was terrified enough to give a genuine gasp of horror, but not enough to be scarred for life. It's a bit pricey but worth a look if you get the chance. These actors come out and tell you tales and explain it all. The price was scarier than the horrors in there. We also visited Acomb. Acomb is a hidden gem. There are 6-or 7 really good charity shops, a Peacocks, loads of bakers, and other cheap and cheerful shops. We managed to stock up on Action Men, books and a few other bits you can only get in charity shops. There's everything a man needs in Acomb, I look forward to a return visit.

City Life - Church

Whilst staying in the hood of Burnage, we went to our old church St Margarets. The services there was quite a bit longer than the 45 minutes we get in Dunbar. 45 minutes in and Emma needed the loo and knew that the sharing of peace was coming up. Everyone gets up and shakes hands, whilst Emma gets up and shakes her lettuce!

Anyway we were only 3 shakes into the peace when a bit of a doo was going on in the central aisle. One of the old ladies had passed out. In fact her heart had stopped and right in the middle of the service those around her had to do CPR. The service could not go on until Greater Manchester Ambulance Service had come to attend. 20 minutes later they were there, and whisked her off to the MRI. The sermon hadn't been that bad! In fact there was a time when the service would have gone on, pretending nothing had happened, so it was good to see a bit of impro taking place.

This slightly sombre moment was broken when an old mate pointed out one of the notices to me. Sheila is the old Guide leader and faithfully does an annual afternoon teas thing for the women. However the notice read
- Wednesday: Sheila's p.m. teas

Now I am not sure what we were supposed to do with that information. Maybe give her a wide berth, say nice things to her, I'm not sure.

The visit was rounded off with one of St Margaret's legendary parish lunches. Basically everyone brings a pile of food and swaps it. Everyone gets well fed and you get to mix your meals. Curry and quiche, lasagne and egg rolls, rissotto and diced cheddar and cubed pinapple. Then for pudding, trifle and penguins, tunnocks and jelly, and cheese cake and curry (there was still some left so it seemed a shame to waste it).

City Life

We have just returned from our summer holiday city break. Living by the coast and in the countryside we now find a trip to the city is a welcomed change for us. You can't help have the small town mentality, when you live in a small town. In Dunbar you do know other people's business, people are related and not much happens. So off we went to Manchester to see the family and friends down there. It was a good journey, travelling under 70mph to save on fuel. At the service station in the Lakes a coach full of Asian people in posh traditional dress came in. They had obviously been to a wedding or something and looked very colourful. In contrast to Manchester, Dunbar has a tiny population of black people. I think there are no more than 15 black people that I can think of in Dunbar (adults included). So the sight of this crowd caused Andrew to point at them in amazement, causing us to cringe. 'Why aren't there any Muslims in Dunbar?' was asked and a brief history lesson commenced. Only 3 years ago he had been at a school where 30-40% of the class were Muslim. In fact much to the disappointment of the head, the kids organised their own football matches, the Muslims vs the Christians! How could he forget?

We had a trip into the city centre and the Trafford Centre. You could see Isabelle thinking 'why did we move away from this?' Even I was taken in for a few moments by the size and range of shops on offer. It lasted for 5 minutes and then I realised that these shops are only any good if you have some cash and part of the brain that tells you that wandering around aimlessly is fun. I used to hang around the Arndale Centre quite a bit in my teens. In those days very little other than the large escalators with tubes of flowing water down the sides of them were in place to entertain you. Wimpy was there long before MacD's, KFC and all the other fast food places cashed in on our desire for junk. These days the new entertainment is coffee. Yes it seems that you can't walk more than 2 feet without having to stop and have a coffee. Fortunately our Beck offered a staff discount at Starbucks where the kids enjoyed their frappachinos (cold milk shakes with a fancy name so you can pay £3 for the joy). Me and Emma had a cappuccino (only because it was one of the few items I had actually heard of). In fact we actually had a bucket of cappuccino each as they came in those oversized mugs they do. This led to an afternoon of visiting most of the public toilets in town for my own expresso's (no froth thanks). In a time of a credit crunch where do people find the time or money to sit drinking coffee. The good thing about it is people watching and most memorable was the tranny goth with 5 o clock shadow...it was there I realsied where Andrew got his pointing trait.

We did a few other things like go to Urbis, the Manchester Eye and went for curry. Very enriching and worth going to. They also have a Primark, so we were able to kit out the whole family for under £5. The city centre is changing rapidly with more and more high rise offices, hotels and apartments popping up. However there is little point to it all unless you have some cash in your pocket. I can't help but wonder if it is all going to come to a sudden end.

More about the trip later.

They're not young for long you know!

Photo: Isabelle on her way to the prom with her M8s!



Today marks the end of an era. Our oldest child left primary school. How old does that make a man feel?

It was a great day for them, and I managed to get along to the leavers assembly to soak up the occasion. The highlight is them all leaving the school for the last time, where they have to walk through a huge line up of all the other classes and waiting parents. Pretty impressive and a great celebration. They also had a prom, where lots of frocks and kilts were being worn and a load of 11 year olds arrived in stretched limo's and Hummer's. Pretty cool, all I remember about leaving school was having to do a line up and give Mrs Rudolph a kiss. I escaped via the fire exit!

We have worked out that the next time Isabelle, Andrew and Stuart will be at the same school together will be when Isabelle is in the 6th form. Now I will feel very old then.

Life's a Snore!

Check out this extra loud snoring. The image of the culprit is masked as she didn't have her teeth in!

Splat!

Photo: Splat in happier times, crapping on ELC's Single Status contracts

Have you ever considered that the name you give somebody could turn out to be a self fulfilling prophecy? Careful thought goes into choosing a name because it defines who you are and could even set you up, or let you down for the future. You know from your school days that certain kids with certain names, and simply because they have that name, will turn out to be either a complete nerd, a tearaway or pregnant with their 4th child by the time they are 13. I will leave you to work out the names in case one of them takes offence.

But names have a meaning and it goes for pets too. Trefor is named after a Welsh coach firm I am fond of (which is also a little Welsh village), Frank was named after my Uncle...so was Harold. And some animals live up to their names, such as pit bull terriers called Tyson, that really do bite your ears off. So when we got 3 Guinea Pigs at Christmas, the choice of name was also important. Spike for the long haired one whose hair stood on end, and Splat for the white one with a black face that looked like a splat of paint. But of course splat is also the noise you get if you drop a heavy on something soft and furry...something like a rabbit hutch on top of a stray Guinea Pig!

On Friday we noticed Splat was missing. They are out in their pen a lot so quite possibly a fox or the near by nesting buzzards might have had him. But a thought crossed my mind that perhaps he had got under the hutch. Sure enough, poking out from underneath it was a little paw. I lifted it up and there he was, Splat! If you have ever watched Tom & Jerry and seen how Tom ends up flat when an anvil lands on him, well then you will appreciate how flat Splat was. As a pancake! Legs spread out either side and wafer thin. Whilst not wanting to downplay the tragedy, it was very funny to see.

The guilty pet murderer was Emma. It seems she had lifted it up whilst cleaning it out, and thought Splat was inside with the others. Instead he was under their feet doing the Guinea Pig version of flower pressing. Poor Splat.

The World of Sport

Have you ever found yourself entering the world of the unknown? We are in the middle of doing so right now...entering the secret world of sport! Not the classic ITV sports programme (you can see that here)World of Sport but the world of football.

Andrew went along to play his first trial game for Aberdeen on Friday...in Glasgow! They have a West Coast training base there in Hamilton, so it's an hours drive as opposed to 3 and half to Aberdeen itself. The way it works is that the lads get a game and asked to come back if they are worth another look. Andrew and his mate Jack played well and did get asked back. The coach seemed an nice enough bloke but you like to check them out just in case. Also because i know little about the beautiful game, and even less so about the Scottish version of it. A quick Google search reveals Bobby McDonald was himself a Premier League player for Villa, Man City, Leeds and Oxford. The result was Cumbernauld United 3, Aberdeen 3. 'Come back on Monday' he said.

So last night we went back and met the staff before they played East Kilbride YC. Have you ever felt like a fish out of water. Well I felt like one floundering as these footy blokes talked footy. I just stood there nodding and shaking my head. Then another 2 appeared. "That's Peter Weir" said one of the scouts with a definate tone of reverence. The blank look on mine and Nick's (Jack's dad) prompted him to add "He played for Aberdeen and St Mirren and Scotland, and he is the head of youth for Aberdeen". So there I was stood amongst some proper footballers discussing my sons future with the club.

The game went well and Andrew scored. Both lads played hard but stood out. they have been asked back again on Saturday for a friendly, and then if that goes well they get a 4 week trial in the summer, including some games against the big clubs like Celtic, Rangers and Hibs. Then they get the offer to sign. It really is another world and there's loads for us to weigh up and think through. Of course it could come to nothing but we don't want to be caught like a rabbit in headlights if an offer does come through. Watch this space!

Ginger Twists

One of the things about ginners is that they get noticed. I reported on Andrew's hair dyeing disaster, which has turned out in his favour. Recently Andrew's team played a friendly against the mighty Aberdeen FC Youth Team. Unknown to us a scout from there had his eye on a few of our lads, including Andrew. But at first the our coaches were unsure who they meant when they described him as a the 'ginger kid on the wing'. Then it twigged, and sure enough he was asked to go for a game last week. So there we are, a big point scored for the gingers of the world...'ginners are winners'!

Wet One

Sunday was my first real taste of hill running. I've done a few short ones but none that require a map, whistle and compass and waterproofs. It was a 12km route that quite literally runs along the edge of the Scottish Border (only a wire fence to seperate us) and a route that takes in the end of the Pennine Way. You also need a small bag to carry them in. I searched high and low for one in the house and found the perfect solution, one of the kids England rucksacks. It might be child sized, but it did the trick. It also infuriated the Scottish nationalists who were behind me in the race. The alternative was a Spiderman rucksack, but that might have annoyed any baddies on the run!

Now having a map and compass is one thing, but knowing how to use them is another. I've been shown numerous times how to use them but I just can't retain the information. But then who would need a map and compass on a well defined route like that? Well it appears everybody doing the race. Cloud level was around about 2 minutes into the race. From there onwards you could only see 20 feet in front of you and nothing more. Knowing my weakness in navigation skills, I decided to follow the man in front. That of meant having to keep up with him, and at times I lost him in the mist which was scary. The mist also hid how high the hills were. I think I counted 5 hills, up and down them all, but number 4 was a bugger. It just went on and on. Also it was now cold and raining hard. The border fence I was following never seemed to end. Eventually I caught up with the bloke on the desecent and even passed him at one point, but then my laces came undone. Ever tried to lace your shoes with cold hands? I was still following him when suddenly he stopped! 'I'm sorry, I've gone the wrong way." Out came the map and sure enough we had. "We will just have to traverse". The diversion cost us at least 1/2 a mile but eventually our destination of Yetholm the end of the Pennine Way was in sight. So without further a do I finished the race (one second ahead of him) but in a poor 47th place. At the end it emerged that most of these hill runners don't actually know how to map read either, as nearly half of them had got lost too. Whilst I enjoyed the change, I think I will stick to roads and paths in the future.

Girl Guiding at ADSA

The Girl Guides are off to Switzerland on some expensive trip next summer. This means loads of fund raising to bring the price down and it also means parents getting involved. So when Isabelle and her squad of Guides headed off to ADSA for a bag pack they were looking for parents to help out. Reluctantly I got roped in. However it turned out to be a top afternoon of people watching. I spent the whole afternoon not only talking to people I knew, but seeing what goes into their shopping bags. Of course I realised that some items might be a bit embarrassing if I were to pack them. I'm sure the librarian wouldn't want me to ask her if i should put her Anusol in with her kippers, or ask the milkman if he wanted all 4 bottles of Gin putting in the same bag as his Smirnoff...I wouldn't need to as he could probably carry them in one hand like they do with the milk.(These are of course fictional scenarios in case anyone thought of offering the librarian a rubber ring next time they were in). Isabelle was trying to ignore me and sent me to another till, so I had thought of anding over a basket full of embarrassing items for her to pack, like lingerie, 10 packets of condoms and a box of feminine wipes. Anyway the day was a success with £1300 being raised and one or two eyebrows. I can't wait for the next one.

Now had we done it the following Saturday we would have been treated to a sighting of Gok Wan. Yes the celebrity flab fiddling dandy was in Dunbar's ADSA on his way back from Edinburgh. I hope so anyway, as it would just be awful if someone we knew appeared on that 'How to Look Fat Naked' programme....I think that's the name of it.
Picture: (Top) Isabelle packs another bag of shopping
(Bottom...as in the location of it not the content) Gok with the ADSA girls!

Pipe Band Day

Ever wondered what a swarm of giant wasps sounds like? Then head to Dunbar's Pipe Band day next year. Bus loads of pipers descend on Dunbar's Winterfield for a day of piping. The sound is really quite amazing. Amazingly bad but certainly one to remember. It's not that they can't play the pipes, but when you get 30 bands trying to play a different tune at the same time it sounds pretty bad. think a giant with a severe case of asthmah! Pipe Band Day is one of those things that has gone on for years and yet half the locals know nothing about it which is a shame. It is a good day out, with many people just enjoying the atmosphere, the beer tent, the bottles of Buckfast, the WKD, etc. There is also a spot of highland dancing for the kids and a new one on me...baton twirling! So if you fancy swinging your baton with a Gay Gordon then head this way!

Pictures:
Some Pipers had a crash landing on their magic carpet.
The pipers head into the arena for some ear drum piercing devil's music.
Some kid wearing some silly trousers.

Church of Scotland knees up!

A couple of weeks or so ago I got myself along to the Church of Scotland's National Gathering. Because everyone is so spread out thinly in Scotland someone had the idea of bringing them all together in a tented village. The highlight for me was seeing the Archbishop of York speak as he seems to be one of the few remaining Church of England clergy who has a believable faith and who seems to understand that there is a world beyond the 4 walls of his church/minster/palace! Through a distant relative (through marriage) I managed to get my account of the event on the Archbishop's website. Check it out for yourself

The report

It was a good event. It got a bit boring after a couple of hours, and the music was a bit tree hugging in style, and the venue was far to big. As someone said, 'it was like a size 8 foot in a size 10 shoe'. All that said, it was a unique opportunity to meet some of the Christians from around Scotland and actually support each other. When you go to these kind of gathering in England they are a bit competitive and you find that they are just full of people selling their wares...their latest book or resource that promises to change your church, another CD of 'Now That's What I Call Plinky Plonky Praise on those electric Piano's', 'Graham Kendrick: The Reggae years' and a new course that is slightly similar to the last one..in fact so close it's just an anagram of it 'Halpa'. Of course few of them deliver on their promises, and you come home fleeced of your pennies and annoyed at yourself for believing that some 'quick fix' answers to the problems of the church were out there. Without wanting to get into this idea of 'our church is better than your's' I shall look forward to the next Church of Scotland event and hope that it grows from strength to strength.

Permission to drown

The waters around Dunbar are safe again. After losing one lifeboat to the elements, the RNLI have forked out £1.1 million for a new boat. It arrived last week from Poole so it safe to get those air beds out and float out as far as you want into busy shipping lanes. More importantly the boat has arrived in time for Lifeboat Day later this summer. It's one of the town biggest events and well worth a visit to Dunbar.

Picture: Courtesy of
grianghraif (Flickr) Neville (the boat) arrives.

Ginger Nuts

Andrew has taken to tinting his hair with blonde highlights. However the operation went all so wrong the other day when first it went all blonde. In an attempt to reverse the damage, another dye was applied only to make things worse...it became ginger. Ginger hair is cruel anyway, but when it is not even natural then your in trouble. Fortunately he has had a 3rd colour added to heal the wounds....and a severe trim at the barbers for good measure. Now he is a different colour...not sure which but one that has got him noticed. All week parents and teachers have been coming up to me to pass comment his golden/ginger look. Today though some cheeky little tow rag came up and commented on my streaks...they are grey! Almost as cheeky as the little snotball who pointed out to his class mates my varicaeus veins

The Big One

I recently completed the Edinburgh to North Berwick road race. It's a 22 mile run, taking you along the coast through several of East Lothian's little towns. It's the longest run I have ever done in my life, and I was not sure if I would actually cover the distance. It all starts at the Meadowbank Stadium. Built in the 60's it is now due to be pulled down, but it resembles something from the Eastern Block with these grey concrete walls, rusty girders and rows of faded plastic seats. There was 137 starters and after a lap and 3/4 of the stadium we hit the streets via the marathon gates.
Each town has it's own features...Prestonpans the waft of chip shops and bakers and annoying youths shouting less than encouraging comments, Cockenzie...a power station and then you reach the posher parts like Gullane where Ronnie Corbett has a pad and where most of the land seems to be posh golf courses. A few supporters came out to cheer us on which actually helps. I was doing fine until 20 miles when I got to the top of a gradual but long hill, when cramp kicked in. Is this the 'wall' you hear marathon runners talk about? I don't know, but i had to work hard on not doing any permanent damage. Then the only woman I had seen in the race passed me, along with 3 Hunters Bog Trotters (It's the name of the club which is basically a load of posh blokes who fail miserably to be rebels in the white middle class world of running. They believe that drinking lots of beer, wearing brown vests and shouting HBT at every opportunity qualifies you for being the 'bad boys' of the running world. The arses of the running world perhaps!). Anyway 3 of them passed at 21 miles. Gutted! However, the end was in sight and somehow I made it with a an unbelievable 2 hours 31 minutes, 44 seconds. I had at best hoped for a 2:40 so I was very pleased. I also came 23rd! So I am hooked on the long distance stuff now....well whilst my body can cope that is.

Picture: Me at the finish. Emma reckons I lost 3 stone in that run alone!

Victory at last

I've been working with the PE teacher training up the school cross country team. Yesterday was the finals and we were the hosts so the heat was on. However our strict training regime seemed to pay off as we had runners win both the girls and boys race. In fact all our girls came in the top 20, and the lads top 21. This meant that we also scooped the team prize thanks to the efforts of the kids who really did try hard. I've now been roped in to coaching the athletics team. I don't actually know anything about coaching, so I will be blagging my way through it. I thought Fred Dibnah was the world number 1 steeplechaser! All that is needed is a bag full of motivational phrases....'beleive in yourself' 'that trophy has got your name written all over it'...you know the kind of stuff that you will find on some USA education website. Then sit them down and watch some motivational films like the Karate Kid, Fame (fame costs and here's where you start paying) and Cool Runnings. Well I suppose I had better go now and brush up on my javelin technique before someone loses an eye!

I Love Old York!

Aside to the luggage difficulties in York, the trip was a gooden! The main purpose for me going is to help the school out and to get to know the kids that I will be working with over the next few years. I did it 2 years ago and I enjoy the best response to my work with that group because they have got to see beyond the 'bloke from the church' veneer.

We stayed at the Race Course Centre, which is where the stable hands stay when it's the York races. We were sharing it with another primary school and a 6th form college from Colwyn Bay. How disappointed the 6th formers looked when they arrived for a wild living field trip, only to discover they were sharing a corridor with 30 primary school kids. No late night parties for them, or we'd set the kids on them.

I really like York. I've visited it for years for camp reunions and planning days, but normally I got no further than St Paul's Church or the Micklegate Bar. So it was good having the free benefits of open top tours, guided walks, a visit to every museum and even Castle Howard (quite boring really...wow it's a big house showing off the wealth of local posh people who exploited the poor...are we supposed to be impressed?). The downside was having to shepherd 30 kids around with me. Also the tedious routine of having to go around gift shops looking at crap replica Viking coins and genuine Roman snowstorms and pencil cases. I did get a nice surprise in Jorvik, the Viking Centre. My photo taken 2 years ago, is up on the wall as part of the display boards. Another part of the entertainment was a visit form one of those Viking reinactment people. 'Danelaw Dave' lives and breathes the Viking life and scared the pants off the kids. He was good but I wish he would use the toilet and not crap out of the window on to the streets below!

I know a lot of people in York and it was inevitable that I would see one of them. Rob & Sarah met up with us at the bowling, but apart from that I didn't see anyone until the last hour of the trip where I saw Beth Tew (Criccieth Camps) on the York Eye. Sadly we were just getting on and had to rush off afterwards to get the train so I didn't have chance to chat. Tom our bus driver was up for an award for best ambassador for the city. If you get a chance to visit then I'd recommend the open top tour bus as a way of understanding the history and geography and social background to York. we even got to see the York Ness Monster!

Carrying a lot of baggage

I'm just back from the Primary 5 week in York. 30 kids and a load of staff jumped on the 9.30am train to York and spent 4 days there sight seeing. More on that in later blogs perhaps. Anyway, there's one thing that seems to have defined this trip for me, and that is luggage.
Being the only bloke in the team, it was left to me to load the train with all 33 suitcases. Getting them on is ok, but getting them off when the train is itching to get on its way to London is slightly more stressful. The train pulls up and its a case of chucking the bags off as quick as possible. With seconds to spare it was all off, but it never crossed my mind that other people might have put their luggage in there with ours too. It was only when an irate American chap retrieved his bag from the platform that I realised trouble was ahead! The kids all lined up, picked up their bags, and yet somehow there was still a bag spare! Oh dear someone was going to be arriving in London with slightly less luggage than they set off with.

That was the first luggage incident. The second was outside the Minster in York. The climb up the 275 Minster steps was made
easier by leaving our rucksacks with 2 of the teachers. However this put temptation in the way of the local crooks, and one of them sneaked up on his bike and pinched a bag, emptied out the money and put it back and swapped it for another. It was like a scene form Oliver as 3 kids got their cash nicked, before some good samaritan intervened. The culprit is locally known as Nigel Flynn...so if you are ever in York and near the Minster and bump into a bloke called Nigel...check your wallet.

That night we were on a guided tour around York and some of the group needed a pee. I pointed them in the direction of some bushes, only to discover that there was a rucksack lying amongst them. I jumped in and grabbed it and hoped it might be the missing bag. After talking to colleagues, we opened it up only to discover it was full of sheets, a towel and some other bits that clearly belonged to one of York's vagrant community. Realising our mistake we went back to try and dispose o fit quietly. Unfortunately a large crowd of tourists had gathered, the alarm of the solicitors( whose gardens the bushes lay) had gone off and so we just had to dump it and run. How ironic it would have been if that was Nigel's bag!

The final incident was getting on the train back. On arrival at the platform, the guard tells me that the luggage needs to go in Coach 'F'. 'What end is that on then?' I ask. "Well it depends on what end First Class is...either the front or the back. 'F' is at the opposite end to 1st" replied JO.B.Sworth of National Express Trains. Sure enough as the laws of Murphy go, we were stood on the platform with all the cases, and First Class rolls up along side us. It was a mad dash to get them from one end to the other, but with the help of some locals (not Nigel) we got them in on time and delivered safely back to Dunbar where the guards were very helpful...and the fact the train was running late had nothing to do with their enthusiasm!

Young Guns

It was the Dunbar 10km race on Saturday and somehow Andrew managed to get the responsibility of firing the starting gun. It was just like being back in Manchester. Young kids waving guns in the air and police lining the streets. Anyway the race went well from my point of view. I got a personal best of 38:04 and a can of Belhaven Best for my efforts. The race is sponsored by the local brewery so all runners get a can of beer. You can't complain at that!

Geeks Galore!

Over the holidays we ventured out to the big smoke of Edinburgh for the annual Science Festival. It was Emma's idea and I have to say I was doubtful about it. Why would spending a day learning about science be interesting? Anyway to my surprise it was all very interesting. Loads of robots, experiments, bangs, etc....and nerds! You see the festival is a showcase for how good the universities are, and they roll out their students to run the festival. Most were pretty good at doing their bit, but be honest, most of us associate science with geeky blokes and women. There were plenty of them with no skills in dealing with kids at all. Not that Andrew played on that when he went in the dark room for the 4th time (your'e only supposed to go once). The geeks couldn't contain him. But it wasn't just the students who were like that. Loads of boffin brain kids and dads too. If I was a bully I reckon I could have made a fortune nicking 50p from them. Anyway, hats off to them, they kept our 3 entertained for 6 hours. Whether it will make them interested in science is yet to be discovered...let me think..."Andrew do you want to play footy with all your mates, or do you want to go and operate lego robots with Sebastian and Rupert?"