A lunch that was really out of this world!

Captain Jim and me. Two veterans from different worlds!

I had lunch last week with an astronaut.
Not just any old astronaut you understand, but one Jim Reilly no less, a veteran of four Atlantis Shuttle missions. We met in the unimposing restaurant facility at Kennedy Space Centre in Florida, during a recent visit there to unveil the brand new Atlantis attraction.
Jim was, I have to say, the complete opposite of what I expected, a somewhat self deprecating man who insisted he got into the Space business by accident. I am sure he has had his fill of nosey civilians who want to know all the ins and outs of life in space, mostly to do with toilet habits I might add. I on the other hand was like a breath of fresh air, testing him with questions on more simple things like God and religion; did he feel closer to the big guy up there, or did it give him more of an insight into how creation really happened etc.
He deftly dodged all the  tricky stuff and gave me answers that would avoid any politically incorrect incidents. Jim was, the perfect politician.
Having said all that, the Atlantis attraction was jaw droppingly good, and features at its climax the actual shuttle itself close up and personal. There was I have to admit, a tear in my eye.
Thanks Jim for a lovely lunch and a little insight into living in Space.

Supercar hell

I parked a rented Fiat Punto in the outdoor parking lot of a luxury hotel last week in Italy. It was empty, so naturally I parked as close to the ramp of the hotel entrance as I could. The next morning, I came out to drive to a meeting and found it surrounded by hundreds of supercars parked at all kinds of angles, as if they had been driven in at speed and left exactly as they had braked.
Imagine the sight. I am picking my way delicately through a maze of Ferrari's, Lamborghini's, Maserati's and Porsche's coming up against dead ends and reversing back and forth desperately attempting to solve the parking maze. It seems it was a weekend away for a Czech supercar club who had spent the day driving to Italy.My Punto was, fortunately small enough to squeeze through the tiny gaps left by the owners of these supercars, who thought perhaps that surrounding my little car was an amusing diversion to their day.
I on the other hand was terrified of incurring an eye watering repair bill.
That said, I eventually found the exit to my supercar maze some 20 minutes later.
I was not impressed.

Sunglasses. Hip ways to not to wear them.

Why is it some people feel compelled to follow stupid fashion trends thinking they are super cool. Is it for their own fragile ego or simply to try to impress the rest of us, the clearly uncool, decidedly warm even.  I have long ranted about stupid women wearing 6 inch or higher heels to go shopping; tottering around desperate to avoid breaking an ankle, and, clearly in agony, stubbornly continuing to walk around shopping malls.  However, this new preoccupation to wear sunglasses in ridiculous places on your head has taken top spot in my current trend of hate column.  Anyone who honestly thinks tucking their sunglasses under their chin whilst hanging from their ears needs some serious therapy. Listen up. You do not look cool, you look like a total idiot. For a start, they get in the way of eating and talking, you drip stuff down on them and they fall off given the slightest prompt.
The same goes for hanging them off the back of your head as far as I am concerned.
For me, having them perched on top of your forehead is adequately cool enough.

The Fab Four are still giants in Houston Texas.

Tucked away at the back of an outside lot in Houston Texas lie four remarkable giant statues of Paul, John, George and Ringo. Created by Texan sculptor David Adickes for a show that never happened, they now stand discarded in his now abandoned studio lot. Adickes has moved premises now but his giant fab four pieces in company with a few other notable huge heads, remain as spooky silent sentinels seemingly waiting for a new home.

The Fab Four (c) Andy Mossack

Manhattan Comes To Frankfurt

I was in Frankfurt last week to watch the annual Rhine in Flames festival. Some 50,000 spectators and a flotilla of 50 odd ships collected together to watch a fireworks spectacle lasting nearly 2 hours.
All wonderful stuff; the many castles lining the river lit up red with Bengal Fires adding to the atmosphere.
Anyway, whilst on a downtown Frankfurt walkabout before all the main festivities, I made a point of going to Neue Mainzer Strasse to see if it really does look like New York. This street is often used in European films to depict a Manhattan scene when the budget doesn't quite stretch to shooting in the real place.
Standing there, it really does look the part. High rises on each side of the street and plenty of traffic too. it also happens to be where the famed Helaba tower resides, the tallest building in Frankfurt offering some stunning 360 views of the city from the rooftop.

Touchscreen Windows in Trains Becomes a Reality

It was with some interest I read the other day about plans for touchscreen windows on the new High Speed 2 trains which will be travelling at speeds of around 225 mph. The windows and doors will have 'smart glass' in them so we'll have the opportunity to bring up information on our journey; current destination timings for example or more interestingly, details on the numerous landmarks as they flash by.
Perhaps there might even be some kind of food or drinks menu not dissimilar to the in-seat service you can order via your TV on Air New Zealand flights.
Either way, the technology is in place now for us to use smart glass touch screens to make our journey's more interesting.
The thing that bothers me, as someone who leans towards OCD tendencies, is having to swipe my fingers over glass a thousand other people have used. I can almost see me having a box of wet ones next to me whilst reading a magazine on the window next to me.
HS2 has come in for all kinds of flak but frankly anything that reduces journey times these days must be taken seriously.

The Battle of Waterloo. Again!

I went to the re-enactment the The Battle of Waterloo last week. It takes place in June every year on the historical battlefield just a few kilometers from Brussels in the Belgian province of Wallonia and has a cast of over 600 actors watched by thousands.

Napoleon before it all went wrong (c) Andy Mossack

Much of this historical landmark has been preserved exactly as it was after the battle in June 1815. Napoleon and Wellington's headquarters and the battlefield itself (although the giant Lion's Mount erected a few years after by the Dutch King William to mark the spot where his son the Prince of Orange was wounded in the battle used some of the earth from it - significantly altering the sunken ridge which was Wellington's master stroke).

Me and my buddy the Napster. (c) Andy Mossack

I had the honour of a personal audience with Napoleon on the eve of the "battle" joining him with his elite battalion bivouacked at his HQ. Joesphine was there, with her maidens all looking suitably splendid, sipping tea from elegantly crafted teapots, and his generals were milling around him their boots shined and swords sharpened.

A squad of Wellington's finest (c) Andy Mossack

It was towards this somewhat fearsome gathering that I, a lonesome Englishman, approached and, after being ushered into Napoleon's tent, at the very heart of the enemy lines stood in front of the Emperor and asked him in flawless French "Do you speak English?"  Perhaps not my finest journalistic moment.
He looked at me as though he had just trodden in something soft and smelly, curled his lip in total disdain, spat out "Merde" and turned on his heel and marched out.


Not the best opening to an interview. Perhaps I should have wished him luck first.