If only I could blog a photo from a UK phone.
Currently sitting in the midst of the Yorkshire Dales National Park outside the Grassington hotel with a foamy pint of Tetley's bitter.
Having done the rounds of the village itself I decided a sit-down in the sun was in order. There's no shortage of amiable aged locals to banter with which makes the whole scene so much more pleasurable.
And the aroma of horse-dung.
It's a rare old summer's day here in Admiral's Park in Chelmsford and the weather is serving to justify my current reason for being here. I have three hours to kill while my car is prepared with its new music system.
I decide that after three months without having fitted the spangly new bluetooth head-end with iPod adapter it was about time I called in the pros. And I mean pros only in the sense that they do this sort of thing on a regular basis and have the know-how to take apart AND replace a dash, not because of their attention to detail and panache.
I know I could do a better job if only I could get past those progess-stopping unforeseen pain-in-the-bottom problems. The sort of problem that requires all sorts of running around to get hold of a specialist tool that you just know those pros would have in a handy drawer and which kills any enthusiasm to get the job done.
So as the guys in the sound shop get frustrated over that hard-to-access and burred facia screw and the restricted access head-end location, I am blissfully unaware eating Thai takeaway snacks, sipping on a cool Coke and soaking up the sun by the river.
