Senior Railcard

I have just passed a „Tipping Point” in my life, from which there is no return (I’ve always wanted to use the expression “Tipping Point”, although I have no idea what it is). Yes, I have reached 60. This defining moment was reached on 16^th April. This was evidenced by the fact that two weeks later, I bought my “Senior Railcard”.

(By the way, in case you are worried by the lack of complaining in this blog, you should go directly to the penultimate paragraph.)

For the birthday itself, there have been three celebrations. I have had my “Zurich Celebration”. This celebration was brought forward to March to accommodate our early departure to England.

There was a small celebration on 16^th April here in “less than sunny / totally record breaking rain filled” Norwich, which included the consumption of Kentucky Fried Chicken (not available in Thalwil) and Champagne, donated by our friends, the Barringtons. Now that is what I call living.

A week later, a third celebration took place, when Louise (the daughter with the Bump) conspired successfully with the rest of the family to get me out of bed at 4.00 am to listen to the dawn chorus at Whittlingham Broad.  And very loud it was too. What are all those birds doing up at this time of the morning. Why can’t they stay in bed like everyone else? (I can’t believe that the coffee shop wasn’t open at 6.30 am, when we finished our walk around the lake)

In case you are interested, which you are probably not, but I am going to tell you anyway, Whittlingham Broad is the venue for the Norwich Sprint Marathon on 1 July. Cold looking lake, don’t you think.

Then of course, it was on to a full English cooked breakfast at the “Town House” at 7.00 am. What am I doing up at 7.00 am, having a full cooked breakfast? But then, how many opportunities do you and your spouse have for a breakfast with all your offspring.

There was barely time for a pause. 10.00 am saw us on the back of a charabanc, being driven around Norwich for nearly two hours, by one of Norwich’s top guides, Fred, including going past “Norwich’s 12 Iconic Buildings” – www.norwich12.co.uk . The oldest of these is the castle which dates back to the same time as the Tower of London (but without the ravens or the crown jewels). Both “Fred” (www.oldenorwich.co.uk) and the iconic buildings are highly recommended, if you passing through Norwich. (Does anyone pass through Norwich? Do you get £200 and not go to Jail.)In the afternoon, Ed and I paid a quick visit to the Arts Centre for a cup of tea and to see an exhibition of Photos remembering the bombing of Norwich, which was exactly 70 years ago  (27^th, 28^th April 1942), part of the Baedeker Raids (named after the guide book). Unfortunately, as part of the exhibition was in the canteen and the canteen was being used for a folk concert, so we failed to complete either of these missions.

But we need to return to the title, “Senior Railcard”.  This poignant moment seemed to be the instant in time on which the great milestone became a reality and was set in stone. “I was 60 two weeks ago. I believe that I can buy my first Senior Railcard”, said quietly, so as not to be overheard, and in the same tone of voice as “I think I’ve seen a flying pig”. Not merely the purchase of a discount card from British Rail (or whatever they call themselves these days), but also a secret confession.  I am now keeping a tally of the financial benefits, not just of the railcard, but of being 60 years old.

- £2 off my entrance into Brooklands transport museum in Weybridge. They did not ask for ID. I was very insulted.

- £25 off my new pair of glasses from Spec Savers
- £13 off my rail fare to City Airport from Ipswich

and the imminent saving of £10 for a return ticket to Peterborough.

….all of which amounts to considerably more that the price of a pizza in Thalwil.

Now there has not been enough moaning in the blog, so I will end with a familiar story of the super-intelligence of technology. Firstly, my new printer, bought from Tesco, Norwich, decided to install all the instructions in German. Secondly, Google, (who else) have also reverted to German, after I had taken the last 6 months persuading the ***** machine that I prefer English and www.google.com and not .ch.

It’s good to know that technology will always be a fruitful source of moaning and groaning. Like the English weather and British Rail, perhaps technology was really invented so that we could have something to talk and write about.