Labouring under a misapprehension

I'm a bit pissed off.

Labour are deciding who is OK to vote in the Labour leadership election.

Apparently not voting for Labour in the recent election means you don't qualify. I think this is garbage.

If you weren't a fan of the way Ed Miliband was running the Labour party at the last election then you're one of the reasons there's a leadership election.  Apparently,  if you expressed your opinion by placing your vote elsewhere,  you don't get a day in who should replace Mr M.  How does that work?

Surely anyone who has a Socialist heart and/or mind should be eligible to have a say in the leadership election.

I know Corbyn is doing well amongst Labour supporters but surely these people didn't vote Labour because the Labour that went into the last election was not Corbyn's Labour.

I'm not sure what the answer is but using the people that voted for Ed as the base for electing a new leader seems to be a flawed policy.

I've graduated

My C25k app tells me I've graduated.

Yesterday's run was for 30 minutes with five minutes for warm up and five minutes to cool down.

The next stage is apparently to run 5k in 30 minutes which I can do whenever I want.

The disconnect is distance.  I can plod in a plodding jog for 30 minutes and yesterday,  including the warm up and cool down my GPS running app tells me I converted a distance of 4k. I guess I just keep going until the time and distance coincide and 5k is done in 30 minutes but I feel somewhat conned. There must be a way of the app helping me to get there. 

The app was called C25k and the plan was 5k. Well I've done everything that was asked of me and I'm not there.  Is it me that failed or the app?

You'll paella vlot more in the UK

On holiday in Spain it would be rude to avoid paella, the national dish.

A trip to a rather mad local supermarket (in Turre) opened up the possibility of buying a paella pan.

If one plans to cook paella at home does one need a paella pan?

I'm pretty sure the answer is no but that doesn't stop me wanting one.

Dave is adamant that we don't need one as is Ethan. Hannah is in the "let's get a paella pan" camp.

I think I might have to buy one because a 6 portion pan costs less than four Euros even though I don't need one.

How often?

Every year the Perseids Meteor shower comes around and every year I can't be bothered to look.

But how often do I have access to a roof terrace with loungers already in situ?

I could climb out of the bathroom window and lie on the conservatory ceiling but that neither convenient not comfortable.

Dave took a look and concluded the sky wasn't clear enough.  He was right about the most air rising above nearby mountains but the view straight up seemed good enough.

I had a lie down.  I spotted satellites,  moths,  aircraft and stars.  Just as I was about to give up I saw my first strong,  obvious,  in your face shooting star.

I've been here a while now and seen quite a few.  The people on a nearby rooftop seem to have stopped their oohing and aching so I think it might be time to call it a night but I think meteor showers might be addictive?

Tomorrow night?

Running away

Yes I have been trying to learn to run.  I don't mean physically how one places one foot in front of the other,  but more how one sustains activity beyond 15 seconds.

That's all very well at home but surely when on holiday such activity ceases.

I confess this is the first time in my life I have packed any kind of exercise clobber into my holiday luggage. This is not through any enjoyment of the activity,  more a fear that any progress will be lost and, when I return home, I'll be back to week one of my C25k programme.

It's hot on holiday though,  very hot. The only option to avoid most of the heat is to run before breakfast,  which for me means about 7:30.

This morning was a warm 27°. This means a lot of sweat and very slow progress for fear of keeling over.

Running away from home can also mean a less than scenic route. The most convenient track is the edge of a dusty local road.  The only thing to remind me of my usual Essex countryside surroundings is the rabbit family I pass.  Today's rabbit count is five.

And today's run was a hour and sweaty 28 minutes,  week eight,  run two.

Disconnected

I might be in holiday in the middle of a desert but it does not give you the right to ignore me.

I don't have 4G here.  I have it in a nearby town, but not here.  The 3G here is also non-existent and I am just about able to get 2G, but only just.

That's all OK because I can get WiFi.  But the WiFi is shared with lots of other people and I imagine we aren't sharing a great signal because we're in the middle of a desert.

What's my point?

Test your websites for loading speed.  Strangle your connection and then see what the other half experience.

I can't tell you how many links I've clicked on and abandoned because after 10 minutes I've exhausted my boredom threshold.

Think about your ad placements.  You may have paid for me to see nothing depending on your contract. I may have clicked to open the page containing your ad but I haven't seen it.

There's no point in paying for Social advertising if my interest results in a spinning circle of frustration.

Don't send me emails telling me about your great new products if I can't view them on your website.

I could move 200yds to a point where the WiFi signal is stronger but I can't be bothered. Your content isn't that interesting, and if you want my engagement then you'll need to try harder.

Beach body

You know those people who have effortless beach bodies?  Well I'm not one of them.

I'll struggle when removing my outer layer of clothing and my swimming costume will get dislodged during the process which will risk indecent exposure.

I will get sand everywhere.

I will get sun cream in my eyes which will be red and sore for the rest of the week.

I will be wearing a swimming costume that reveals white bits that are the shadows of a former outing in a different costume.

If I go into the water I will slip unceremoniously on rocks or seaweed and land on my arse.

I will do the dance of someone avoiding a wasp.

My hair will not acquire a sun-kissed, salty, tousled appearance but will look more like a clumped mess clinging to my scalp for dear life.

When leaving the beach I will struggle to carry the ridiculous accoutrements that I have decided are essential beach gear.

I'll pop a t-shirt and shorts over a damp body and swimwear producing a look that indicates incontinence and hyperlactation.

I'm just not a cool beach person.  Never have been,  never will be.

What's better?

Sat around the pool I can hear men talking about football scores,  transfers and other football related things of which I know nothing. 

At the beach there is a sea of people and some are English,  some Spanish.  A lot of the very tanned women are topless.

Ethan's told me he's not really a fan of the topless scene and I'm not either. Women look unfinished without something to cover them up, up top.

The language I can hear above everything is Spanish.  I can't understand it.

Is it better to be near a conversation one can understand but finds boring,  or to listen to something that's completely beyond comprehension?

Or should I just be minding my own business?

Hot or cold

I'm offered breakfast.

"Hot or cold?" I'm asked.

"What's the difference? " I reply.

"One's hot and one's cold."

I knew that.  What made her think I couldn't figure out that one of the differences was temperature?

One, it transpires is a full English breakfast and one has fruit and yoghurt. I could have assumed a multitude of variations which is why I asked the question.

I chose cold.