This weekend was truly glorious in the old blighty – 28 degrees, sunny and beautiful. A perfect weekend to catch our first polo match.

I will admit, I knew nothing about polo as we drove to Coworth Park to watch the match. However, after a few minutes it became quite clear that it is a rather simple game – put the ball in the goal, change horses frequently and stay on.

A polo game has periods of play, known as chukkas (also chukkers). This term originated in 1898 and is derived from Hindi chakkar from Sanskrit chakra "circle, wheel" (compare chakka). Depending on the rules of the particular tournament or league, a game may have 4, 6 or 8 chukkas; 6 chukkas are most common.[1] Usually, each chukka is 7 minutes long, but some games are played in shorter chukkas. Between chukkas, the players switch to fresh ponies. In less competitive polo leagues, players may play only two ponies, alternating between them. For more competitive leagues, and in United States intercollegiate polo, each pony is played in at most two chukkas.

Along the side of the field are horses – waiting for their turn. These were pro teams so I was told that they would switch horses 5 or 6 times.

The lad in the green hat was famous (did not catch his name) and wore the green as a family tradition. The announcer mentioned that his dad had been an international polo star. What I found interesting was the man to man (or horse to horse) coverage during play. Note the below how both riders are looking the other way while the horses fly down the field.

The horses would often cluster and one had to wonder how many injuries happened as they came together as a group at breakneck speed. One can understand why the sport was used to train calvary horses in the old days.

This fellow is the captain of the Australian team, who lost to England the next day in the big polo event of the year, the Cartier Cup. His team won on Saturday.

The referee missed this one as the fellow in black hooked the fellow ahead of him by the arm.

And of course, no event is complete without a glass of PIMMS on a beautiful sunny day. Brilliant.

As we donned our rain gear and headed out of the Wentworth clubhouse and into the rain this morning one of my golf partners remarked that today was to be ‘one of the wettest days of the year’.

That is alright I said, golf is meant to be played in the rain. What are we? Mice or men? I would live to regret that. In my life, I have never, ever, been as wet as I was today.

The rain just kept coming. It would let up into a light downpour (only becoming a light sprinkle once) then when you would see a little light it would hammer you again. The odd thing being that it was not windy, so a couple of us were actually starting to get quite hot in our rain gear – even though we were getting wet. And rain it did and it did not stop when we crossed 9, or 14 or when we walked off the course many hours later. In fact, it is still raining and it is 9:30pm.

But the funny thing is, it was a fun round. Perhaps it was because it was not to cold or because we were playing match play which ended in a tie on 18. Perhaps it was because it was funny to watch one of us lose a ball in 2 feet of water in a bunker or attempt to putt through a literal river on the green. Perhaps it was because it was fun to watch a ball go into the cup and disappear as the cup overflowed with water. Who knows.

This picture shows you just how hard it was raining. Man did it rain! It rained like that all day.

For your enjoyment, a cup that overfloweth.

On one hole (I think it was 10) there was this beautiful four foot high berm covered in flowers that ran right across (at an angle) one fairway. I whacked a 5 wood and it bounced up and what looked like over. My companions were convinced it went over. I laughed and bet that it got stuck right on the top with all my luck.

I was right.

The grimace is because I lost my footing as I swung pulling the wedge and almost hitting one of the other guys on the other side of the green. Footing is not a sure thing in driving rain.

I am now finally dry. A good day. And of course … tomorrow will be a nice day, in the office.

It has now, officially, been a year since our family moved to the UK, how the time flies by! This weekend I was cleaning up photos and reflecting on the last year with the following conclusions:

• On risk:  I have often said that nothing worthwhile doing is every easy. The move to the UK was risky for many reasons; Would the family like it? Would I be successful in a new work culture? Would I enjoy living here? How would the boys integrate into a new school? In the end, as I said to a friend recently, life is about taking chances. Sometimes it pays off and ends exactly how you wanted to end, sometimes it goes awry and you learn a lesson or two, but in the end there is always some type of pay off. In this case, there were lessons learned and many successes, so the risk was absolutely worth it.
• Experiences:  Life is all about experiences and memories. Prior to coming to the UK I was a luddite, opposed to change. Sitting in Canada we had a good life – good friends, family close by, great golf club, great ski club and a home with a great yard where we spent many happy hours lounging by the pool. But I had never really been anywhere, some US travel, trips to the Caribbean and a trip to the UK and Germany on business a decade ago. This year has taught me that there is a marvelous world out there with so much to see, experience, learn about and enjoy. I will never be the same. The last year has changed me beyond measure, I have the bug.
• On family:  When you are in a new situation, it either brings you together or sends you farther apart. As we reflect on the experiences of the year, one thing is clear; our family has transformed into an International family and the experience has brought us even closer together. Life is all about the stories, we have many exciting family stories to tell.
• On the UK:  I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to start our International travels here. The people of Britain are wonderful people with a history that is thousands of years old, a country pride that is deserved and a sense of humour that I truly enjoy. Britain is one of the greatest countries in the world and after a year, we have only scratched the surface.
• On business:  In the end, what has been reaffirmed for me this year is that success is all about people. Regardless of the country I am in, if there are good people to work with, then success is within reach. Sometimes it may take a bit longer than you wish, there will be risks taken that payoff, there will be risks that you take that will fail and turn into learning experiences, but as long as you have good people, you will get there. I work with great people, success is there.

To summarize, as my boys said to Narda the other day ‘This has been the best year of our lives’. I cannot agree more.

It has now, officially, been a year since our family moved to the UK, how the time flies by! This weekend I was cleaning up photos and reflecting on the last year with the following conclusions:

• On risk:  I have often said that nothing worthwhile doing is every easy. The move to the UK was risky for many reasons; Would the family like it? Would I be successful in a new work culture? Would I enjoy living here? How would the boys integrate into a new school? In the end, as I said to a friend recently, life is about taking chances. Sometimes it pays off and ends exactly how you wanted to end, sometimes it goes awry and you learn a lesson or two, but in the end there is always some type of pay off. In this case, there were lessons learned and many successes, so the risk was absolutely worth it.
• Experiences:  Life is all about experiences and memories. Prior to coming to the UK I was a luddite, opposed to change. Sitting in Canada we had a good life – good friends, family close by, great golf club, great ski club and a home with a great yard where we spent many happy hours lounging by the pool. But I had never really been anywhere, some US travel, trips to the Caribbean and a trip to the UK and Germany on business a decade ago. This year has taught me that there is a marvelous world out there with so much to see, experience, learn about and enjoy. I will never be the same. The last year has changed me beyond measure, I have the bug.
• On family:  When you are in a new situation, it either brings you together or sends you farther apart. As we reflect on the experiences of the year, one thing is clear; our family has transformed into an International family and the experience has brought us even closer together. Life is all about the stories, we have many exciting family stories to tell.
• On the UK:  I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to start our International travels here. The people of Britain are wonderful people with a history that is thousands of years old, a country pride that is deserved and a sense of humour that I truly enjoy. Britain is one of the greatest countries in the world and after a year, we have only scratched the surface.
• On business:  In the end, what has been reaffirmed for me this year is that success is all about people. Regardless of the country I am in, if there are good people to work with, then success is within reach. Sometimes it may take a bit longer than you wish, there will be risks taken that payoff, there will be risks that you take that will fail and turn into learning experiences, but as long as you have good people, you will get there. I work with great people, success is there.

To summarize, as my boys said to Narda the other day ‘This has been the best year of our lives’. I cannot agree more.

My hip bag on the lawn in Bath. It has seen a few sights this year and yes, I am a proud Canadian.

On Father’s Day our family headed out to Bath for the weekend with a stop at Stonehenge on the way, a distinctly more enjoyable destination than Baconhenge.

What first strikes you about Stonehenge is that it is in the middle of nowhere. You come over a hill and there it is, at the intersection of two highways on top of a hill.

The next thing I noticed was how cheap people were lined along the 6′ high fence and taking photos either through the fence or over the fence. Now, I don’t know about you, but if I travelled all that way to see Stonehenge, I would pay the fee to go in.

On the right of Stonehenge is the parking and this huge field full of sheep. As you can see by the above, we spent some time in the field walking around near the sheep. But, no matter how hard we tried, they would not let us pet them (smile).

The place itself is pretty amazing. Like the Pyramids, it took a huge amount of effort to get the stones in place, especially the second stage of building stones:

The second and most dramatic stage of Stonehenge started around 2150 BC. Some 82 bluestones from the Preseli mountains, in south-west Wales were transported to the site. It is thought these stones, some weighing 4 tonnes each were dragged on rollers and sledges to the headwaters on Milford Haven and then loaded onto rafts. They were carried by water along the south coast of Wales and up the rivers Avon and Frome, before being dragged overland again to near Warminster in Wiltshire. The final stage of the journey was mainly by water, down the river Wylye to Salisbury, then the Salisbury Avon to west Amesbury.

This astonishing journey covers nearly 240 miles. Once at the site, these stones were set up in the centre to form an incomplete double circle. ( During the same period the original entrance of the circular earthwork was widened and a pair of Heel Stones were erected. Also the nearer part of the Avenue was built, aligned with the midsummer sunrise.)

The use is up for debate, but obviously it has some form of religious or practical use (i.e. marking the seasons). John O’Farrell has a good summary of Stonehenge:

No one quite knows why it was built, but it seems sensible to presume that some ancient ceremony took place there every year, hopefully slightly more meaningful than today’s annual beating up of New Age travellers by the local riot police ….

We know that they followed the movement of the stars and the planets, the presumption being that they worshipped the sun, which as religions go seems a bit ‘first base’, but then it was a long time ago. It is a temple of a civilization about which we know very little and so tend to presume was very simplistic. But they must have had a fairly advanced social structure; in addition to a good number of labourers or slaves they would have needed managers, engineers, surveyors and designers. Basically they must have had a middle class. How Stonehenge managed to get planning permission with all those objections from the ‘Friends of Salisbury Plain’ is just another one of its ancient mysteries.

Each stone is slotted so that the horizontal pieces fit in ‘tongue and groove’, which is why they have stayed in place over the last 3500 years. It is also important to note that as much as another 1/3 of the rock lies in the ground as they dug them in to erect the stones and keep them standing upright. Amazing.

  

The below is a ‘pre-retaliation shot (smile).

And of course, it is always great when the sun is shining. Next, off to Bath.

While at Wimbledon I was drawn into the nationalistic fervour surrounding Andy Murray, the 21 year old Scot who was able to battle his way into the semi finals where he was completely, and utterly trounced by Nadal. In the Guardian, they described it this way:

He came, he saw, Nadal kicked his arse. The 21 year old 12th seed had raised British hopes by cruising through the first round: we sat up and looked interested: the second round: we renamed Henman Hill Murray Mount:and the third: we rebranded the Scottish player British. Then he looked like crashing out of the fourth round in straight sets, before staging the most terribly plucky comeback after his opponent had served for the match in the third set.

The crowd roared. Andy roared. He showed his biceps. Through to quarter finals! We felt like a top nation once again. Nadal beat him 6-3, 6-2, 6-4. Never mind. In that increasingly well rehearsed phrase – there’s always next year.

Of course, there is always Laura.

In reading about this phenomenon, what has been very interesting is the tone of the articles. A quick flip through the glorious interweb shows that young Andy has a checkered history and that people find him as charming as a rock. From his declaration that he would support anyone ‘but England’ in the world cup on his blog (which lead to a good old fashioned Scottish vs English battle on his blog) to his well documented tirades and asinine behaviour on and off the court. Universally, people are having a tough time liking the guy and cheering for him ‘despite who he is’.

When I was in the stands, I was caught up in rooting for a Brit to win. However, after only one exposure to his yelling and obnoxious hand pumping after winning each point (Andy – you need something new) I was left with a distinct impression that he is not much of a sportsman. Words like obnoxious, arrogant and spoiled brat come to mind.

Too bad. Go Laura!

We had the good fortune to attend our very first tennis match on Saturday at Wimbledon. The weather was beautiful (again) and there was real excitement in the air as Britain was cheering for Andy Murray, the 10th seed Scot to pull a win.

As this was our first trip to Wimbledon, we decided to drive into town so that we could get back at our leisure. Of course, this meant paper based navigation as I had lent my TomTom to a Canadian friend who is the country for a few weeks. Big mistake. I successfully turned a 45 minute drive into a 1:30 minute drive. How did people get around before GPS?

Eventually arriving, we started the day at the Wimbledon Club, which is across the street;

Wimbledon Cricket Club was founded in 1854, just nine years after Surrey County Cricket Club. Early matches were played on Wimbledon Common. By the 1880’s visiting teams increasingly expected a permanent pavilion, which was not permitted on the Common, and in 1890 the Club moved to its present ground in Church Road, initially on a ten – year lease with an option to purchase the freehold after then years. This was duly exercised with the help of Debenture holders, most of who had no expectation of a return on their investment. When the debentures were redeemed in 1965 it was at the same price at which they had been issued.

It is interesting to note that Wimbledon started as a Croquet club:

The All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club, which is responsible for staging the world’s leading tennis tournament, is a private club founded in 1868 as The All England Croquet Club. Its first ground was situated off Worple Road, Wimbledon.

In 1875 lawn tennis — a game introduced by major Walter Clopton Wingfield a year or so earlier and originally called ‘Sphairistike’ — was added to the activities of the club.

We enjoyed a fantastic lunch, champagne and Pimms (again) while watching the members play tennis on the grass tennis court. We never drank champagne before coming to Britain, where it is a staple offering at dinner parties and events, and one that I have become quite fond of. Of course, there was also tea accompanied by strawberry’s and cream – nothing is more British than that on a summer day.

I enjoyed looking at these lists as you entered. Note the ‘war years’ annotations.

Then it was off to Wimbledon. What an amazing place. Packed to the rafters with 20 matches going on at all times, from world ranked professionals to boys and girls. The below map gives you a great idea of layout of the event.

We were fortunate to be sitting in centre court. I am not a big ‘sports watcher’ on TV, but I love it live. The atmosphere was electric.

Of course, the royals have their own box. I forgot my invite on the kitchen table so the guards turned me away.

The stadium is actually quite small. There really isn’t a bad seat in the house. It was a little irritating as I don’t have a zoom lens on my camera. A new lens is now ordered.

The first match was between No.2 ranked Jelena Jankovic (SRB)[2] and No. 31 Caroline Wozniacki (DEN)[31]. It was an amazing match (with many surprised by Caroline’s tenacity). She was screaming the serves over the net at 106 mph (versus Jelena’s sub 100mph serves) and at times looked to have Jelena on the ropes. As the match progressed, Jelena began to limp, calling out her trainer to put a tensor bandage on her knee (after losing the next set without winning a single point, she had it removed). In the end, she won 2-6, 6-4, 6-2. You can watch the match (or download it) here. In the end Jelena pulled it out and won. Great match.

It was amazing to watch the power and form of these athletes.

 

Early on in the match, a man was yelling out to Jelena. Turns out it was her father, the only one who could get away with that (although as the day progressed, the crowd got more and more vocal). He is the one with the video camera, a few seats down from us. About half way through the match, at a point where she was really battling, he yelled something in Serbian that made her look up and start laughing. I would love to know what it was …

The second match was the one everyone was waiting for – Andy Murray (GBR)[12] versus Tommy Haas (GER). It was explained to me that Andy (Scottish) was Britian’s best hope for a winner in the tournament. It was a good match but Haas was no match for Andy’s 135mph screamer serves.

What was also noticeable was the military presence. Every branch of the military was present operating the gates. Quite cool to see and for them, I would hope a nice perk.

I could not help but notice the dress of the officials, with their great old fashioned hats. It was also fun to watch what much have been young volunteers as they eagerly handed the players towels and quickly grabbed discarded balls.

One story floating around was about a ball boy/girl stopping a pro from taking a towel that was not theirs from the court. The Times call the whole Wimbledon towel thing the ‘great Wimbledon towel swindle’:

We’ve all done it. You’re on holiday, the hotel is expensive, and for some reason it’s difficult to leave those complimentary items behind, regardless of how complimentary they actually are. Soaps, shower gels, perhaps even sachets of coffee or sugar are fair game.

There are limits, though. Many people would stop at towels. Not the millionaire tennis players enjoying the plush surroundings of the All England Club locker room it seems. More than 2,500 lush cotton towels, at £24 each, went missing last year, costing Wimbledon around £60,000. Even Roger Federer admitted the practice was commonplace among the affluent elite at this most refined and traditional of sporting institutions, although the numbers of disappearing towels are down this year.

Last, it was interesting to see the photographers with their huge lenses. As a Canon user, it was interesting to see the Canon white to Nikon ratio, by my count 2:1. I was surprised.

All in all, another AMAZING day in the UK. Thanks Britain!

As I walked past Westminster Chapel I saw this and took a quick phone picture. A proud Canadian.

I have very little time to blog over the next couple days as it is 4th quarter for us and insanely busy. But suffice it to say that I have a few exciting things to share after an amazing Father’s Day long weekend surprise trip (I took Monday off) …..

Cool.

Over the last year I have gone from dreading roundabouts (and cutting off more than my fair share of people by taking the roundabout in the wrong way) to loving roundabouts.

I think Canada should SERIOUSLY consider roundabouts in new urban planning. They are so much more efficient for low and medium traffic locations than stop signs (and the eliminate those ridiculous rolling stop tickets).

That is until I met a roundabout that has gone too far, the magic roundabout in Swindon.

Until September 1972, there was only one Magic Roundabout and it was a children’s television programme featuring Dougal the dog, a hippy rabbit called Dylan and the spring-loaded Zebedee.

Then a revolutionary idea (in more ways than one) which had been tested in Colchester, Essex, was also tested on Swindon’s County Ground Roundabout. Until then the area had been a motorist’s nightmare which routinely failed to handle the volume of traffic which converged on it from five directions.

The new roundabout was the work of the Road Research Laboratory (RRL) and their solution was brilliantly simple.

All they did was combine two roundabouts in one – the first the conventional, clockwise variety and the second, which revolved inside the first, sending traffic anti-clockwise.

And magic it certainly is. Though it may confuse or amuse new visitors and baffle American tourists, the average Swindonian finds that his or her passage through one of the town’s busiest junctions is actually quite fluid, even at peak times. Twenty-five years on, the Magic Roundabout still works, despite ever-increasing volumes of traffic.

As I almost ripped the back wheel off my car on the weekend, I was in a rental and without my TomTom which was conveniently located in the glove compartment of my towed away car. So last night I went through the magic roundabout to a meeting without guidance and I got lost, honked at and definitely did not feel like a happy ‘Swindonian’. I talked to a few of my peers after the meeting and they all laughed ‘We knew you would get lost, just glad you eventually got there’.

I also stopped to take this picture with my phone. Who would have thought?

I was in London today, another beautiful day. I continue to marvel at how amazing this city is. I had the good fortune to sit at a cafe around St. Paul’s cathedral while enjoying a coffee outside. How amazing is that?

The below is a click from my phone. Amazing.

Your choices are:

1. The scratches really do not bring out the shine of the metallic paint.

2. The car needs a wash.

3. Back wheels are meant to be straight.

If you answered all of the above, you are correct! The above is the direct result of my car having an argument with a concrete pillar after a wonderful day of enjoying the UK sun. The car lost – and the angle of the wheel is all bad.

Last week Narda took me out for a day to celebrate my 40th. To start it off we did the ultra-touristy thing, the Big Bus. If you are coming to London, I would highly recommend it. It is an open top double decker bus with multiple routes around London. The bus has a guide who points out the key sites and their history, allowing you to jump on and off at your convenience. Fantastic way to see the city.

One of our stops was the Cabinet War Rooms and Churchill Museum. 

Shortly after becoming Prime Minister in May 1940, Winston Churchill visited the Cabinet War Rooms to see for himself what preparations had been made to allow him and his War Cabinet to continue working throughout the expected air raids on London. It was there, in the underground Cabinet Room, he announced ‘This is the room from which I will direct the war’

It was fascinating to see the place where Churchill coordinated the effort against the Axis and through the museum, get a feel for the life and times of a truly great man. One of the first rooms you come upon was the meeting room where Churchill and his team would plan military strategy. The writing emphasized that Churchill was a head strong man, with opinions and ideas but that as a leader he did not take Hitler’s approach where he would overrule his team and make the decisions. Instead he was a leader who worked with the team to get to the best decisions.

The working conditions were rather sparse and as part of the audio tour they made it clear that living and working in the underground bunker was not exactly luxurious.

The rooms are full of map and communication rooms. I found this one interesting as behind it is a map of Britain. The legend maps out how Britain would defend itself against an invasion.

The Battle of Britain was a turning point in the war, stopping the Axis invasion of Britain. The below is a particularly moving ledger, showing the activities (and casualties) of the RAF.

The Churchill museum is one of the best museums I have been in and very moving, full of intimate details on the life and times of Churchill. It makes if very clear that his indomitable spirit helped bring Britain (if not the entire free world) beat the Axis.

The museum is arranged into 5 chapters, the last being his death and a fascinating piece of trivia. He was given a state funeral and it is the only commoner funeral that the Queen has attended.

By decree of the Queen, his body lay in state for three days and a state funeral service was held at St Paul’s Cathedral.^[168] This was the first state funeral for a non-royal family member since 1914, and no other of its kind has been held since.^[169] As his coffin passed down the Thames on the Havengore, dockers lowered their crane jibs in a salute.^[170] The Royal Artillery fired a 19-gun salute (as head of government), and the RAF staged a fly-by of sixteen English Electric Lightning fighters. The funeral also saw the largest assemblage of statesmen in the world until the 2005 funeral of Pope John Paul II.^[171] In the fields along the route, and at the stations through which the train passed, thousands stood in silence to pay their last respects. At Churchill’s request, he was buried in the family plot at St Martin’s Church, Bladon, near Woodstock, not far from his birthplace at Blenheim Palace.

Going through his museum prompted me to whip through a book I had on my ‘to be read pile’, The Wicked Wit of Winston Churchill. He is known as one of the worlds greatest orators, and this book captures some of his best moments. A few that will stick in my mind:

• One of Churchill’s most famous speeches is that of June 1940: ‘We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills …’ It is said that, as he paused in the great uproar that greeted these words, Churchill muttered to a colleague next to him, ‘And we’ll fight them with the butt ends of broken beer bottles because that’s bloody well all we’ve got!’
• ‘Eating my words has never given me indigestion’
• When he eventually came round to the idea of women holding executive positions, he signed the order for their appointment with a flourish and declaration: ‘Let there be women!’
• The first woman MP was Nancy Astor, known for her great wit and who Churchill spared with often. The following exchange some claim to be apocryphal, while others suggest that the man in question was not Churchill … It is said to have taken place at Blenheim when the Astors and the Churchills were guests of the Duke of Marlborough over a weekend, during which Churchill and Nancy Astor apparently argued ferociously the whole time. Nancy Astor: ‘If I were your wife I would put poison in your coffee’ Churchill: ‘Nancy, if I were your husband, I would drink it.’
• ‘My most brilliant achievement was to persuade my wife to marry me’
• When, in 1960, a reporter from London Evening Standard asked Churchill what he thought about the recent predictions that by the year 2000 women would be ruling the world, he muttered gloomily in reply, ‘They still will, will they?’

And of course, in England, even the government buildings are a marvel. This entry way takes you between the Revenue office and the Foreign office to the museum. Beautiful.

A worthy outing and a great book.

I was sitting in a meeting when someone said ‘I think they will cockasnoot to it’. Huh? I stopped the meeting and asked for a definition: ‘To turn your nose up at something’

I learn something new every single day.

I have heard through side comments that health and safety is very highly regulated in the UK. This morning I came in to the following note on my desk:

‘As part of the Heath and Safety policy your chair has been tested this weekend. We apologise if the settings have been altered’

A pain to get it back to exactly how I like it, but better safe than sorry.