On the Road Going Nowhere Podcast | Episode 3
Many thanks for the picture! http://www.visitpitcairn.pn
So, last night in a flurry of boredom on Google, I came across a small group of islands, that are a British overseas territory. The name of the group of islands is the Pitcairn islands. In a bid to raise the population census, they are looking for Great British citizens to occupy the island.
So far, many inquiries have been made – although only one person has agreed to move to the group of islands in the south pacific ocean. The overall population of Henderson island is just fifty six inhabitants, as compared to the one hundred and thirty seven inhabitants that lived on the island during the nineteen thirties.
The government of the islands provides land to all immigrants. Although you have to put in an application first. The land is plentiful and the weather always good. Temperatures as low as seventeen degrees centigrade in winter is hardly bone chilling, through the summers the temperatures vary between twenty and thirty degrees centigrade.
Henderson island is just two point three square miles. It is one of the most isolated places on earth, with a supplies ship being the only node of transport between the island and New Zealand. The ship only comes every three months with supplies and tourists and citizens who work abroad or who are seeking further education.
So, whats not to like, heck, they even have a bar, and a cafe and and sell alcohol and tobacco in the local government shop.
The island has two official languages the two being: English and Pitcarnese. The islanders follow the seven-day Adventist form of Christianity. The islands main source of income come through agriculture, honey production and arts and crafts. The estimated GDP for 2015 being eighty seven thousand New Zealand dollars.
This must capture the imagination of the child inside of everyone of us, and even the adult in all of us. It seems to be a good deal, frankly. So, would you move to Henderson island ? Tell me more in the comment section.
So, I have been looking into the prospect of starting up a podcast and then, possibly, linking it to my WordPress account. So far the research has proven difficult, it would appear that finding a free host with unlimited bandwidth is next to impossible.
I have purchased all the necessary equipment for the podcast. It seems very hard to find a free host so I may have to run it on a shoestring. As much as it pains me to admit it.
The podcast shall have the same name name as my WordPress account and as I previously stated I shall try and link it to the my current web page here on WordPress.
If only the problems stopped there. Then I have to think about what themes to talk about. So far I have thought of a mixture of: Music, poetry, and general topics of conversation with a little humor thrown in for extra spice.
I do love podcasts and thought it’d be a nice idea to do one despite their going out of ‘fashion’.
I would be open to any other suggestions and would love to hear opinions of the current selection of topics chosen.
So, I have been granted permission by my parents to turn the spare bedroom of the house into a man cave. I shall finally have all the space a late adolescent could need. Oh, and what plans await this sorry room, you may ask.
It’s great, because I will have space to put all my guitars,books, and a new flat-screen television for sports. I also have made the purchase of a rather quite large pool table. We shall have to see if there is enough space in the man cave for it to fit. No fears, I shall make it fit.
I am also currently on Amazon looking for a sofa bed. Which, might I add, was the deal-maker of this situation. It serves a reasonable purpose; when we have guests coming to the house, they shall have somewhere to rest their precious heads, as if the settee in the living room wasn’t good enough! Furthermore I get to take the king size double bed into my room. Which is huge bonus as i get to upgrade from a single to double.
I also shall need to invest in a beer fridge. Every man cave needs a beer fridge. So what I need from you guys is some suggestions as to what else to add to the man cave. Silly suggestions are also welcome.
Far away from the city smog and hustle of everyday inner-city life.
Is the dreaded peace, quiet and bore, of the small suburban district I call home.
Where the condition of the roads is more of an issue than inner-city poverty and drug addictions.
Today, was a day like any other;
drunken, underage adolescents drinking beer in the park, disgruntled old men tisking at them as they walk by with their dogs.
Busy, young professionals rushing to their corresponding bus stops and metro stations.
Pensioners getting in their way almost on purpose it would seem, as they have no better to do.
As for me?
I walked to the center to withdraw some money from the ATM.
As I needed to go into the city center to cash in a check into my fathers account.
I was pumped full of adrenaline and excitement as I walked to the ATM.
”What other wonders could today hold, I wonder.”
I arrived at the ATM to find I had forgotten my bank card, and so begrudgingly I took up the task of walking home and fetching the card.
Might I add the excitement and adrenaline had since perished.
Now I had the money all I had to do was return home and find the check, simple right?
Don’t be so naive!
I rummaged through the drawers where it was supposed to be, only to find it was nowhere to be found. the bank was due to close within the next hour or so.
Alas, I decided to sit down and have a cup of tea and a cheese and pickle sandwich.
When I saw it!
The check had been hiding under the corner of the coffee table. Typical!
I had under and hour to get to the bank. The next train was due in ten minutes.
Feeling the pressure, I rushed to the metro station.
Only to miss the train. The bank was to close at five O’clock.
the time now was four thirty. the next train was due in seven minutes.
I jumped on to the train, and after fifteen minutes I had arrived with only minutes to spare.
Now feeling like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible, I started to run through the station into the city, running like a mad man.
I approached the bank. Would it be open ?
I arrived with a minute to spare and was the last client of the day.
I left the bank and bought and cold drink and went home for some well deserved dinner.
That my readers is the excitement that could only come in an English suburb!
© Alex Turner 2015