SARDINIA TRAVEL ADVENTURE

Last year we intended to go to Sardinia but after the car broke down, we had to think again as the cost of a new vehicle much depleted our budget. Instead we decided to venture only as far as the Switzerland border and follow the roads along the Rhine from Rotterdam to Basel via Germany.

So this year we determined we would get there even if, to be honest, we weren't sure that it would be possible because we wondered if we could afford the ferry - it gets more expensive at the height of the season - we worried the island would be so busy that camping without pre-booking would be hard to find, and the thought of the road trip ahead seemed daunting in itself. But we are adventurers so even though the thought of getting to Rotterdam and embedding ourselves there for four weeks instead of travelling further seemed the easy option, and tempting, it would also have been intensely boring and inevitably lead to regret that we didn't even try to get to the island that we both longed to see and experience.

We skipped Rotterdam on the way from Calais and followed much the same path to Italy as we did when we travelled around the boot and Sicily in 2014. However, this time we felt more confident about where we were heading and research in advance about where camp sites lay on route helped to avoid hours and hours of driving around looking for camp site signs to follow. We don't have smartphones and we don't have a satnav. We use paper maps and Google route maps, printed off before we leave, which served us well. We also managed to avoid many of the pay toll roads in France and ended up in a delightful country campsite in a village called Val De Vesle for our first stop and then the city of Dole for our last overnight stop in France.

There wasn't much to see in Val De Vesle apart from a church and a house and some lovely countryside. We had a walk around the village, and along the Vesle near the site, but we didn't stay long enough to consider hiking in the area. We stayed one night and moved on.

Dole is a pretty city and easy to get around. We followed a guided walking route led by brass cats embedded in tiles on the pavements which took us for a circular walk around the city and back to where we started near the camp site we stayed at which was next to a canal which had some delightful house boats along its banks.

We suffered a bit of a detour through and around Geneva on our way to the Mont Blanc Tunnel but soon found the right road.

We pitched up in Italy at Sarre in the Aosta Valley. The camp site manager remembered us from our trip there in 2014 which was nice. He often went around the site on his horse and looked more like a Ranch head than owner of a camp site. Our neighbours there had brought their two cats camping. I'd never seen that before but apparently, it is quite common. They did spend some time every day looking for them and making sure they didn't wander far but the cats seemed to enjoy themselves, stalking birds and popping over to say hi to other campers.

Aosta town was only a 4km walk along a track by a river. The heat was intense so we couldn't resist having a paddle in the fast flowing stream at a point where it seemed more stable. Some points were dangerous to enter and big warning notices were displayed at varying parts as we walked along.

I had hoped to move straight on the next day to Genoa and the ferry that would take us to Sardinia but we stalled here for a few days because it is one of my husband's favourite parts of Italy. We both love the narrow streets and the mountainous region that has a slightly French flavour to it. Last time I managed to pick up some Grappa which is very expensive to buy in the UK and this time I found something quite unique, to me anyway, Tobacco Mead.

As a tobacco connoisseur, I was intrigued and stood looking at the bottle on display when the lady in the shop came out and insisted that we try some. It was delicious, really moreish, so I had to buy it. A pretty pack of brown sugar came free with it but I still haven't worked out why. The mead is sweet enough without it. I Google translated the wording on the bottle when I got home and it appears that the tobacco mead is a speciality of the region that was outlawed during the early days of the unification of Italy when local dialects, customs and traditions were frowned upon in the move to make Italy one country, one people, one language, one land. The bottle pays tribute to those who kept this tradition alive when Tobacco Mead from Aosta was made contraband. It seems tobacco has been the target of political attacks from the very first day Christopher Columbus brought it back to Europe from the Americas.

It was another beautiful day when we left Sarre four days later. We took the pretty mountain roads for most of the journey and then crossed over to the motorway when we got a bit closer to Genoa. We followed signs for the port and ended up in the traffic heading for embarkation onto the boat but we didn't have tickets. A nice port worker who was directing traffic kindly allowed us to pull out of the line. He told us where to go to get tickets but only allowed one of us to leave the car. Afterwards, we had to head back to the main road and try and find a way into the port's main reception and shop. Our boat wasn't due to leave for a few hours. We boarded at 9pm for the sailing time of 10pm. It was a 10 hour overnight journey but we didn't have a cabin. That would have been 100 Euros more which seemed excessive when the one way tickets I got cost us 100 Euros. We thought we would work out how to get back once we got there. We both remembered the hell in trying to find the right dock and the right boat operator when we bought return tickets to and from Sicily a couple of years ago so we figured we would wait and see how things lay when we got to the Sardinian port of Olbia.

We realised when we boarded that many other passengers didn't have cabins either. There were adults, children, babies and even dogs, laid out on mattresses and in sleeping bags on every spare piece of floor and every seat in every bar. We could hardly find anywhere to sit let alone find somewhere to sleep. But we did find a small spot in the children's play area where there were already people settled down for the night.

My husband managed to grab a few hours but I couldn't sleep at all. I was too excited and maybe a bit too British to doss down. I walked from floor to floor, bar to bar, carefully stepping over bodies so not to disturb anyone's slumber and the 10 hours went a lot quicker than they should have done.

Blurry eyed passengers began to wake as we got closer to the island and the sun rose just before we got in at about 7.30am.

The port was much smaller than we encountered in Messina, Sicily, and seemed simple enough to to get to so we decided we would find a camp site somewhere near Palau which is where you can get a ferry over to La Maddelena but the camp site there was crowded and we couldn't take the car to the pitch. We moved on and the next site we saw was one called the Arcobaleno. We didn't know where we were exactly and so the owner showed us on the map. We were near Santa Teresa Gullura in an enchnating little place called Porto Pozzo. We had found a corner of paradise of earth and we would both have been happy to hang around here for as long as we could. The beach was superb and used mainly by campers, so it was never overcrowded, people were lovely and even if we didn't speak the same language, they always said hello, buonasera, buongiorno or even the more informal salve, as they walked past our tent. Those who did speak some English, always made time for a chat when ever we saw them at the sinks, the showers or the bar.

The owner spontaneously appeared with two glasses of Sardinian wine for us one evening as we sat near the office posting pictures to Facebook on the camp wifi. He gave us a bottle when we left as a gift and it was the most scrumptious wine we ever had. My husband doesn't drink, I'm a lightweight, and so this wine had to be shared to be fully appreciated in one sitting. We saved it until we got home and then took it to share with a friend, who also really enjoyed the tobacco mead too and a small bottle of local liquor made from Sardinian red berries that we bought as a present.

After we got settled, we needed to find an ATM. A local shop assistant told us that the nearest place to find one was at nearby San Pasquale a stunning hill top village a five minute drive away.

We had wanted to visit the La Maddelena but apparently, the beach with pink sand, which is what we really wanted to experience, is now closed to tourists after too many of them stole sand from the beach putting its unique colour under threat. We were so overwhelmed with the beauty of where we were that nothing could have topped it and anyway, there were pink bits of coral in the beach at our site so we decided instead to head off to the other place that also inspired our want to visit this island - La Grotta Di Nettuna.

We walked the 654 steps down to the cave and then took the 654 back up. It wasn't as difficult as we thought it might be. There are up and down bits and straight bits along the way, and plenty of vista spots to stop and get your breath back on a day when temperatures hit 36 degrees. One lady stopped and between panting breaths, pointed to a bracelet on my arm and said : "That is lovely." I had enough breath left to squawk out a thanks and a smile.

We had intended to take the steps down and then get the boat back but that would have involved then walking up a big hill back to where the car was parked so we didn't. At the top there was a bar where we both got ice lollies and ice cream and a delicious cup of tea. In fact, it was so nice, I had to have two cups.

The two and half hour drive back was like a white knuckle ride as we found ourselves in the pitch black negotiating twisty roads with mountain drops off the side. The journey was made longer by taking a wrong turning and then having to find the way back to the main road through two small villages which seemed lost in time and with no clear signs telling us which way we should be going. I had faith in the map on my lap and again it served us well, in addition to the small compass I have which always tells us which direction we need to be.

We spent the next day just chilling in the heat on the beach and in the sea and then later explored the site and the area around during a beautiful evening walk.

The next day we headed into Santa Teresa Gallura to find the Capo Testa and the magnificient rock formations unique to Sardinia.

It was another glorious day and there was plenty to explore. We spent time trying to find animal shapes in the rocks, and climbed many, and then later went for a walk in some woods nearby where we found an old bandit look-out point at the highest spot which tourists now visit to get the best panoramic view of the area.

Alas, our time in Sardinia did not last as long as we would have liked. On our fifth day it began to rain a little and so we decided this would be a good day to drive to Olbia and get our ferry tickets back to Genoa. That was a good move because rain began to lash it down for the rest of the day and stopped about an hour after we got back to clear the way for the blue skies to return.

We hoped to stay on the island at least until the end of July, or even into the first few days of August, but the price of the tickets at that time of the summer were at their highest. If we left when we wanted to that would have cost us, without a cabin, 350 Euros. However, if we left in two more days, then we would get tickets for about the same price as our outgoing trip. We had no choice but to take them and then set about planning what we would do on our last full day.

We both wanted to see the ancient olive trees which our guide book said lay at the end of a cul-de-sac at the north end of Lake Liscia. These are between 1000 years old and 4,500 years old.

Getting to the lake seemed easy enough. On the map it appeared to be a one hour drive south from Porto Pozzo but after several hours of driving we didn't find the trees, if we did end up overlooking the lake and wondering how we could get down to it to explore further. We drove all around, ended up back on the main road between Olbia and Porto Pozzo, and then diverted off again in a last ditch attempt to find these elusive wonders. But still we had no luck. We were both so deflated after a day's driving and getting nowhere - even if we did enjoy the breath-taking scenery around us - that when we happened upon the Nuraghi village neither of us felt inclined to take another long walk on a searing hot day. Instead, we stopped in the country when I spotted some ripe prickly pears.

I had never tried them and up to that point all the ones I had seen were green and not ripe. But these were bright orange, hanging down and begging to be picked. We only had some kitchen towel in the car so I grabbed a couple of doubled up sheets and picked three. That didn't protect my hands though as I had tiny invisible thorns stuck in me that made my hands sore for a couple of days. The prickly pears were delicious though and I'm pleased I managed to taste them. Next time, I'll make sure I have thick gloves in the car should I ever get the chance to pick them again.

Because I am a wimp who hates my bare feet on sand in the sea, because I worry what might be beneath it wanting to grab my toes, I bought an inflatable lilo so I could get in the water on it and then drop off it and swim without my feet touching the ground. It then occurred to me that I could take this onto the ferry and sleep on it. When the time came, however, I felt a bit embarrassed to take it aboard so we just grabbed our sleeping bags after we parked up and then found a spot where we would stay all night. This time I did get some broken sleep and I'd bought a book to keep me busy, The Girl In The Spider's Web which I found impossible to put down for the rest of the holiday.

As we pulled into the port at Genoa, there were two ships following us in and it was another glorious day.

We decided on a quick drive straight back to Sarre in the Aosta valley and so we took to the motorway for the whole journey which cost 23 Euros in tolls. We hung around there for a few more days before setting off back to France, through the Mont Blanc, and then on to Rotterdam.

We didn't stay in Dole on our way back but decided to check out a smaller site in Poligny. It should have been an easy straight route from Aosta but again we got scuppered by taking a wrong turning and ending up in Geneva with no clear way out. After a few hours of driving around in circles, going the wrong way, and finding ourselves driving back through Geneva again, we pulled off onto the motorway and hoped we were going the right way. We had no idea where we were at one point so we pulled into a service station to buy a new French map. Mine had become so completely worn out I couldn't read it anymore. The female assistant was marvellous. Not only did she tell us where we were, which wasn't on the map, she plotted our route, told us which way to go and before long we heading straight for Poligny. We had taken a zig zag approach to it. When we arrived, the sun was still hot and the skies a clear blue. That didn't last. The dark clouds began to gather after we had got pitched up and then the most dramatic lighting storm I had ever seen persisted through the night. A loud crack of thunder near the tent and sheet lighting that lit everything up woke me up. I sat a while just watching it. I wish I'd had my camera but I think I was too sleepy to think about getting it out.

The next day was dry and humid. There are lots of walks around the countryside in Poligny and we decided to walk up to the Croix Du Dan which we could see in the distance from our site. Once there, we left our name in the cross as others had done before us. There were other country walks that we rambled through too.

I could have stayed longer and on reflection, perhaps we should have done. Instead we moved on to our next stop. This time we choose a site in Chalon En Champagne but neither of us liked it much. It was on the edge of what looked like a council estate, and you had to pay for wifi, to use the games room, and smokers were definitely not made welcome. This is something that matters a lot to me. It also rained and we didn't have our tent sail on which meant next morning, we packed up in drizzle and arrived at Rotterdam with a wet tent which meant one damp night's sleep.

We both hoped to catch the festival in Rotterdam that we enjoyed so much last year but this time there was a small fee to enter. It wasn't yet open when we wandered along so we walked into town instead and found another festival, Afro-Caribbean, that was free so we hung around there for a while.

The weather in Rotterdam wasn't great but it helped to acclimatise us for when we got back home. We spent longer there than we wanted and because the weather was so bad at one point, we even considered coming home earlier. But then things improved. We spent a lot of time watching the fast moving Rotterdam skies and the shapes of the clouds.

Just before we set off on our camping trip, I bought a sail, which is a square piece of waterproof material that sits above the tent. This kept us dry when wet and offered shade when it was really hot. My husband didn't much see the point of it but reluctantly set it up not convinced of its worth. He changed his mind by the end of the holiday.

During a stormy night with gale force winds, a chunk of tree branch (which my husband said was more of a twig) fell on us in the night but we were saved by that sail which stopped it falling on us. It woke me up with a thwack as it came down. I thought we were being attacked, at first, but when I poked my head out of the tent, I saw what had happened and decided to leave it until morning. My husband slept soundly throughout the drama. For sure, if the sail hadn't been there, then at the very least our tent would have had the hole it that the branch caused to the sail.

After 8 long days in Holland, we made our way back to Calais and home. Usually, the weather at home is grey and cold when we return from our travels but this year it was day after day of sunny and warm weather which felt like an extension of summer.

We both know that next year we want to return to Sardinia to see all the things we missed, and there were plenty, and on our wish list next time we are in the Piedmont region, is to find the Tibetan Bridge in Claviere which is about a two hour drive from Aosta.

Summer is over and now my thoughts return to work. Sadly, I lose my year 3 students who go into the world of work well equipped with the sort of skills they need to get their dream job and I wish them well. I will have a new year one that I am looking forward to meeting for the first time and my new year 3 is full of students ready to face the shorthand challenge and gain their 100wpm industry standard as soon as possible on their return.

Feeling refreshed and invigorated from the summer of travel, I am raring to go and can't wait until term starts again.

NEW RECRUIT

My eldest granddaughter tells me that she wants to be a journalist like her granny so I told her that she would have to learn shorthand. I had to buy another theory book after the dictation speed-building disc in mine stopped working so about a year ago I gave the old one to her to play with.

She's obviously been working hard at it and recently made me card to show off her fledgling skills. Shorthand students will notice that some of her outlines are a bit squiffy - particularly her use of the NTH blend for the word one, and not using the R principle for words beginning BR/CR/GR etc, plus the use of vowels in words where they are not needed - but she managed to understand the PL blend, generally got the hang of the system and as we shorthand nerds know, outlines are only "wrong" if the person who wrote them cannot read them back. She clearly managed to do that because, for my benefit in struggling to read her shorthand, she transcribed it and included that transcription on the card.

Considering that she is only 9 years old, she's progressing well and has enough years ahead to become a shorthand expert before her journalism training starts - unless of course in the years between she changes her mind about her future occupation.

Either way, shorthand is a unique skill that, as a shorthand tutor, I would say is useful in all aspects of life.

FUN WITH THE LUNCH BUNCH

About once a month or so, I appear as one of three guests on Radio Lincolnshire's Lunch Bunch slot. Usually, the programme is hosted by the lovely Nicola Gilroy but new presenter Chris Berrow is standing in for her for a few weeks as she hosts the drivetime programme. Other presenters who have stood in for Nicola during my appearances are Rob Underwood and Jo Wheeler.

The Lunch Bunch slot begins at about 1.15 in at this link and fellow Lunch Bunchers were Sue Richie and Phil Crow. I think it's available for another 29 days on iPlayer.

It's a bit like a pub lunch chat where light news issues of the day are discussed. This time we talked about average speed cameras and the family who loved their five year-old goldfish so much they travelled 200 miles across the country to take it to a vet willing to operate on it for £200 after a local vet told them it wasn't worth it.

A new aspect of the show is that we were asked in advance to suggest our favourite three songs and why we like them. It was an impossible task so I chose three that I liked on the day. Chris then chose one of each. Sue's choice was America by Simon and Garfunkle, Phil's was Ashes to Ashes by David Bowie and mine was Sway by Dean Martin which is one of my all time favourites because it is so uplifting and makes me want to dance and more than that it makes me wish I could dance like the professionals in the Youtube video below.

HONOURED

Whenever you go away there is always something happening at home that you miss and as much as I enjoyed the The concert in Verona I am gutted to have not been present at the Lincoln School of Journalism's ball.

A couple of my students at the University of Lincoln had asked me before our classes came to an end last month if I was going but because of my trip away I was unable to make it. Therefore, it was only today when I had to go into work to invigilate for an exam, that I found out students had honoured me with a recognition award for helping them along with their Teeline Shorthand.

I'm told the applause was massive and I am very sorry that I was not there to hear it or to say a huge thank you to the students for their appreciation, and of course to congratulate them for their own hard work in gaining the relevant speeds from 60wpm upwards that they wanted. Shorthand is not an easy subject but with regular study and practice it can be nailed and I am glad that I can help those who are determined to master it.

I was also over the moon when some of my students presented me with a card, and chocolates, after they finished the course and achieved their 100wpm passes. "Bonkers but lovely shorthand tutor" is a description I can happily live with. I am pleased you have all enjoyed (if that is the right word) your shorthand sessions.

I've often told students the reward is in the effort and maybe they decided I needed some reward for my efforts too. I am truly humbled and thrilled to get this award and really sorry that I couldn't be there on the night.

Thank you all again - and good luck with your future careers. There are some real stars coming out of our university and I am very proud to have been one of the tutors involved in helping to create and train the next generation of journalists to the highest standard expected of editors.

I will treasure this award and your good wishes for years to come. I will never forget any of those who I have met during this first three years of teaching the subject. It has been an absolute pleasure.

THE MAGIC OF THE 2 CELLOS IN VERONA

Picture by Simone di Luca/Fabrice Gallina from HERE. Right click to translate if it appears in Italian.


Sometimes just one word sums up an experience and the one we had in Verona at the fifth anniversary concert of the 2 Cellos was Wow!

I must admit, I'd never heard of them until a YouTube video of their version of Michael Jackson's "They Don't Care About Us" flashed past my Facebook page one day. I was captivated by it and the drama of Croation Stjepan Hauser and Slovenian Luka Sulic as they played those instruments in a way I'd never seen or heard before. More than that, they gave an edge to a song I wasn't that keen on and made me love it. I followed the links to click to buy tickets for the concert and I'm glad I did. It was one of the best experiences I've ever had.

Despite a nightmare when booking flights and B&B (I got dates mixed up) the trip started great and just got better as we wandered around until the moment arrived we had come for. The venue was magical, the atmosphere electric, the event had me feeling like I was riding some musical astral plane where all the songs I loved and liked were made so new and unique by the sound of those epic cellos it was like hearing them for the first time ever. The passion and energy of the musicians on stage, which included drummer Dusan Kranjc, had me stomping, stamping and head banging all night.

The Piazza Bra in the Italian city of lovers was packed with people waiting to get into the venue and once inside they crowded into every single space and seat available.

Initially, I worried that the security man's legs would be our view for the night but after I took a photo of those handsome legs, and showed it to him, we had a giggle about it and red faced he moved sideways. When the concert began, he took a seat and our view was magnificent. The amphitheatre is great because it allows everyone to see. The acoustics were fantastic.

The supporting acts, Remo Anzovino and Lon Loman were warmly received but when the boys with the cellos came on stage there was a roaring welcome. They thanked everyone for coming and seemed genuinely humbled by the amount of people who turned out, having once said that if anyone had told them five years ago that they could fill a concert hall with just 2 cellos they would never have believed it. And yet there they were, standing in front of thousands of people all screaming, singing and dancing in wild appreciation of a truly new and unique talent deservedly flung onto the edge of superstardom after being discovered by Sir Elton John who, like me, was wowed when he first heard their version of a Michael Jackson song.

(pic credit Simone di Luca/Fabrice Gallina)

The 2 Cellos began in traditional style with a classic that sent shivers down my spine and brought tears to the eyes of my husband. I thought I even heard him say that this was a moment he had waited for all his life. When they finished and I felt the spell break, I heard them say that this was not a classical concert. This was no ordinary concert. This was most definitely a rock concert with songs interpreted and given fresh energy by two young men who play as if they were born with cellos by their side. This was like being carried on a wave to musical heaven for two hours and swept up in the same intense passion of the crowd who couldn't get enough and the artists who held us transfixed with their dramatic performance.

Pic from HERE

They covered hard rock songs like AC/DC's "Highway to Hell", Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love" with a splash of Beethoven, a mash up of Iron Maiden's "Trooper" with a slice of "William Tell", and had the audience singing to The Rolling Stones "I Can't Get No Satisfaction", and rocking to headbanging tunes like Guns and Roses "Welcome to the Jungle" and Nirvana's "Teen Spirit." Their interpretation of Sting's "Shape of My Heart" and "Fields of Gold" (which ended the show) took my breath away.

For a full review see HERE Right click to translate.

(pic credit Simone di Luca/Fabrice Gallina)

The surreal experience was made more intense and dramatic by the thousands of lights all around us that were held aloft from mobile phones against the darkness of the Roman Arena in Verona and the clear night sky. Even the predicted rain stayed away. The crowd chanted for more and more and were determined not to let the show end. The 2 cellos did not disappoint and came back for several encores. After the magic was taken away with the instruments back stage, and the artists left the stage for the final time, the crowd reluctantly knew they had to let them go and began to file out of the ancient landmark. We left the Arena in a daze as if we had just experienced a journey to another world. Floating on air as we walked back toward our hostel, the Juliette B&B with the 2 Cellos music still in my head, we stopped at a wine bar and sat for a while because we needed time to come down a bit before heading to our room. As we walked, we passed the occasional piece of silver and gold paper slips that had been fired into the crowd during the concert in an explosive sparkling display. A few must have floated over and into the streets or dropped from people's clothes as they headed home or onwards to end their night as we did. These intermittent lonely scraps were like full stops reinforcing the end. The concert was over and soon the whole experience would be too and we would soon be back home to reality.

If you haven't heard of the 2 cellos then check out some of my favourite Youtube videos of theirs below. They are coming to the UK in July









The show was the highlight of our trip but the Italian city of Romeo and Juliette was beautiful in itself. We took advantage of the day we had there before the concert and the time we had before our flight the next day to see all the sights, including Juliette's house and balcony, and like many other lovers before us, we left our love lock - even though it was tiny and came from my suitcase because that was all we had to hand. We weren't sure what to do with the keys but decided to keep one each and then, later, we dropped one of the keys into a wishing well at Juliette's tomb. The other one got lost down a drain when it fell from my purse as I boarded the bus to the airport. It's just as well that neither of us are romantics at heart but as they say in Italian : " Siamo fatti l'uno all'altra" - we are made for each other - perhaps because we share the same cynicism but with the enchanting venue, the passion of the music, the atmosphere of the crowd, the charm of the City, and some time to care about each other, that characteristic soon melted away. Life could never be better than this.

MY PHOTOS

THE "HATED" HITCHENS CHARMS IN LINCOLN

Famous people often look shorter in real life but not Peter Hitchens. He is neither tall nor short but, as a voice to my left whispered as he came on stage, he looked about right. Straight up, solid and as forthright as his opinions, he speaks from the experience of more than 30 years as a political and foreign affairs reporter, observer and commentator.

Delivering a guest lecture at the University of Lincoln last night, he began by saying : "Same sex marriage is unimportant, the EU referendum is a waste of time, New Labour is not right wing at all, and everything you have been told about Russia is completely wrong." If he expected an adversarial or shocked reaction to suggest that these popular issues are irrelevant in the current global storm of war, Britain's uncertain economic and political future, our frenzy with an in/out EU referendum, Russia, Putin, and other world leaders, then he would have been disappointed. Most people either agreed with him or kept their reactions to themselves.

"We are told we face a new Cold War threatened by an aggressive Russian dictatorship which proposes to sweep westwards and we should be prepared to stand up and position ourselves against this enormous and powerful country," he said.

He spoke at length and in detail about Russia's historical relationship with the Balkans and the Caucasus, the public joy at the collapse of Communism and bursting into song himself as he drove through Moscow, the West's lack of understanding of Russian borders and the problem of the EU "following German policy" and moving in on the Ukraine and Georgia which, Hitchens said, provoked the reaction from Russia to annexe the Crimea. "In the Russians' view, this was a bit like parking its tanks 20 miles outside of Guildford," he said. "Which country gave up quantities of land in Asia? Which country has given up 700,000 square miles without any kind of physical struggle? Which power expanded its authority given up by Moscow which no longer controls Belarus, Ukraine or Georgia or any of those old Warsaw Pact states such as Hungary, Romania and Bulgaria? They all come under the control of the nation of the EU."

It is not that Hitchens is a Putin fan. Far from it. But he shares in common with many British people the concern of the EU's empire building and sees Germany as the architect and driver of it all. "I yield to no one in my dislike of Putin," he said. "I was one of the first journalists to write about his threats to liberty. He is a tyrant. He won't speak to me and his spokesman won't take my calls."

Western and British hypocrisy also got caught by Hitchens' sniper fire as he questioned our Government's strong moral tone against Russia while welcoming Saudi officials from a country with appalling human rights and delegates from China including a visit to Buckingham Palace by the Chinese president.

"China is a country that is currently engaged in kidnapping book shop owners in Hong kong, it has gulags, and it executes people and then harvests their body organs," he explained to anyone in any doubt about the regime in power.

He doesn't rate any of the candidates currently running in the US elections. As much as he would like to see a woman President in America, and as much as they needed one, he said, "belligerent" Clinton was not that woman. He's no big Donald Trump fan either but he'd rather him or anyone other than Hillary although he would laugh if Bernie Sanders made the White House, "because there would be no more US sponsored wars."

Questions from the floor included whether he thought that our view of Russia had been influenced by America, whether Russia was right to side with Assad, and whether Tony Blair should face prosecution for war crimes.

I missed the answers to the first two as I was preparing a question of my own but someone then beat me to it. As far as Blair is concerned Hitchens described him as "olympically dim."

"War crime is a misleading term because all war is crime. I don't think Blair should be prosecuted. I think he's too dim to understand what he was doing and in some way it would be unkind to put him on trial."

Something of a school boy smirk occasionally flashed across his face as he spoke. He answered questions with sincerity and held your gaze as he explained his view. My public question was whether he thought there could ever be peace in Syria. He said it could find peace and he hoped it would soon and although Assad was a nasty tyrant, most of his downfall was orchestrated by Saudis. When asked about the refugees, he said the Syrians fleeing war didn't go far from the borders and they want to go home as soon as they can. Others currently walking through Europe are a mixture of economic migrants and others seeking better lives but few are Syrians.

He said he would be staying home for the EU vote on June 23rd believing it a waste of time because even if the country votes no, it will take us a good 15 years to extricate ourselves from the EU but before that, like when Ireland voted no to the Lisbon Treaty - the EU constitution - if the leaders don't get the yes they want then it will keep coming back until they get the right answer eventually.

At the end of the event, as people began to file out of the room, I wandered up to the desk as Hitchens gathered up his papers. I had to ask him a question completely unrelated to anything he had been talking about and I felt a bit embarrassed to ask in the public hall in the middle of so much intellectual analysis of world affairs. I think he was a little taken aback by it.

"Do you do shorthand?" I ventured.

Hitchens smiled and then recalled his days 40 years ago learning Pitmans, something he still uses and can read back but his speed is not quite what it used to be.

"Can I tell my students that Peter Hitchens says shorthand is very important?" I asked. (They need motivation and it helps for them to know their journalistic heroes and heroines use it too.)

"More than that," he replied, "you can tell them that Peter Hitchens says he bitterly regrets not keeping up his speed and he wishes his shorthand teacher was here to help him again," he said.

He remembered the name of his shorthand tutor, as many students do throughout their journalism careers, and of course it would have been churlish of me as a shorthand lecturer not to offer to help him reach that speed in Teeline but he graciously declined the opportunity to sit in with my Year 1 or Year 2 students although I think they would have enjoyed it very much.

The "hated Peter Hitchens" as he often describes himself appeared to charm all who met him in Lincoln and I was one of those. Dare I say he is a lovely man. I profoundly disagree with him on many issues but there are many more that simply make sense.

You can read more from the pen of the man himself HERE and below is a video of Lincoln University student Jarrad Johnson's interview with Hitchens on his opinions, his politics, and his general visit to Lincoln.

THE GUITAR GENTLY WEEPS

So many musicians from my era have been lost this year, most notably, Lemmy Kilmister, David Bowie, and Glen Frey, but lest we forget, it is five years ago today that we lost Gary Moore, one of the greatest guitar players ever born who could make that guitar gently weep like no other in its time. We've still got the blues for those greats we've lost but their music is the legacy they left behind and that makes them immortal.