Dreaming of a green Christmas

Today, it’s over to Mel Thompson, Bluestone HR manager, for some reminders about how to minimise the environmental impacts of the festive season…

Where has 2009 gone? It seems like only yesterday we had to think about how many kilos of Brussels sprouts, the size of the turkey and the amount of mince pies and brandy butter we had to buy! Not to mention the annual New Year’s resolutions we all seem to make with the best intentions – only to give in three weeks’ later, shrugging our shoulders and giving ourselves a pat on the back for at least having a go! So why should this year be different?

Well, here are some New Year’s resolutions we would like you to think about – and in comparison to some, these are really very easy. As you know, here at Bluestone we pride ourselves on being environmentally friendly and for that reason we would like to remind you about disposing of your Christmas waste in a way that is kind to the environment. 

If we have all been good boys and girls, and on the eve of 25 December we excitedly leave the customary mince pie and drink for Santa and carrot for Rudolph (who else still bites the carrot for effect and then wakes up in Christmas day excited because Rudolph has taken a nibble? Just me?), we may be privileged enough for Santa to have gotten stuck coming down the chimney and left us some goodies.

After a tipple, we then excitedly open our gifts and elatedly chuck the wrapping and in some cases, excessive packaging into the middle of the room creating a colourful mound of rubbish. However, in most cases it is recyclable rubbish.

Spare another thought for the poor old Christmas tree. Adorned, loved and cherished in a warm home for nearly three weeks, come January 6 it finds itself dumped unceremoniously outside in the cold. Left in a laneway, shoved in a rubbish bin, dumped on a street corner, its twinkling lights and piney scents a distant memory. It’s a familiar sight each year, but in this era of “reduce, reuse and recycle”, it really shouldn’t be.

Many local councils operate a ‘Recycle your Christmas Tree’ scheme and we therefore encourage you to contact your local council to find out the dates, times and venues of the recycle scheme.

Lets face it, sometimes Santa hasn’t been as on the ball as we would like and he brings us something we would never wear or use. However, we hang on to the item(s) and produce them from the back of the spare room cupboard when the person who gave it to you pops round for a visit.

So here is some information about a scheme called Freecycle that we can all incorporate into a New Year’s resolution to get rid of those unwanted items. Freecycle is a scheme that operates in local areas, whereby you donate your unwanted items, and, equally, you can pick up items for free. The idea is to reduce the amount of usable items that go to landfill, and thus lessen the impact on the environment.

So when you want to get out of your usual New Year’s resolution such as clearing out the garage or going to the gym more often, just log on, upload the descriptions of the items you wish to give away onto the Freecycle website and let Santa’s little elves do the rest, plus the site is stuffed with enough free items people are giving away it’s enough to make a Christmas turkey jealous!

So now that we are all equipped with the recycling knowledge, there is just time to remind everybody about a couple of ‘elf & safety’ matters. Please remember to switch off your very pretty, ambient, twinkling fairy lights when you pop out, even if it is just for a moment and whatever you do try not to get stuck halfway down the chimney!

A merry, safe Christmas and a happy, newly-recycled year to you all!

Acquired Reflex

I once knew a carpet fitter who, shall we say, embraced the party lifestyle with gusto. But whenever he entered a pub or club, no matter how intoxicated he might be, the first thing he always did was look at how well the carpets were fitted. He couldn’t help it. It was a reflex. It’s the same when Bluestone people go on holiday. Naturally, our first aim is to relax and enjoy ourselves, but we can’t help the reflex that notices things, then pokes us in the brain, going ‘Ooh, look at that, that’s not very good’ or ‘Hey, that’s a great idea. Wish we’d thought of that’ etc, etc. And on that note, it’s over to Food and Beverage manager John Glasby, whose recent foray abroad couldn’t help but provide him with food for thought.

After nearly two years at Bluestone and a busy summer, it was suggested to me that I book a holiday with my family before the men in the white coats came along to take me away to a less glamorous (albeit cheaper) location.

With two young boys, aged five and six, we decided to take the plunge and cross the channel and head to Disneyland Paris, having been seduced by various images of children being mesmerised by white-knuckle rides and their favourite Disney characters.

Discussions with various colleagues confirmed that this was indeed the place to go to guarantee the kids a good time – more surprisingly they also indicated that it was possible for parents to enjoy the experience too. You see, I wouldn’t be the biggest fan of US culture and before the stork decided to visit my wife and I, you wouldn’t have got me near the place.

Having said that, I was somewhat intrigued to see how the infamous Parisienne arrogance/rudeness had been seamlessly absorbed into the cheesy American customer service culture. On a slightly more serious note, from a work perspective I was interested to see how a global leader in hospitality/resorts operates, particularly the F&B side of the business.

We booked for a seven-day break online, chose a mid-priced Disney hotel as a safe option and decided to fly (from Bristol) rather than risk life and sanity by driving via the M25 and Eurotunnel. The journey was fine and we arrived outside the Sequoia Lodge.

‘Nature in all its majesty’ the brochure said. An ‘exquisitely-recreated forest lodge inspired by America’s vast national parks’ the brochure said.

Hmmm. A bit dark and dingy to be honest. Anyway, check in, into the room and crash out. Not so fast. My wife assures me the room smells of stale urine (I have no sense of smell) so we call reception and after 20 minutes, a housekeeping manager arrives. He suggests an air freshener. My wife suggests they find us a new room which they reluctantly do. Not great so far……

Down for dinner, and there’s choice of two restaurants in the hotel (we don’t want to go looking elsewhere on our first night): an all-you-can-eat buffet or home-cooked specialities. Well, no actually. As it happens, it’s an all-you-can-eat buffet in both (identical) restaurants. Not surprisingly, we chose the all-you-can-eat buffet. It’s not great. In fact, it’s really poor. Much to my wife’s disgust, I can’t help but point out the food is all pre-prepared, bought-in produce – nothing made by the ‘chefs’ who hover vacantly behind the servery. Never mind. The kids enjoy the ‘haute cuisine’ chicken nuggets, whilst I nearly choke on the £100 bill.

After a night’s sleep, it’s breakfast – an all-you-can-eat buffet (surprise surprise). It’s continental-style and people seem to be going mad, taking massive plates full back to the tables which resemble a sandwich production line! It gradually dawns on us that everyone is preparing lunch for the day ahead, stuffing huge piles of croissants and cheese into their waiting knapsacks. The staff seem oblivious and we feel it would be rude not to join in the local custom.

Onto the park itself: it’s impressive. Very impressive. Visually, it blows you away and it seems no expense is spared to wow the visitor. Apart from the amazing fairy tale buildings and structures, there were elaborate and extensive Halloween decorations everywhere. Your senses are bombarded with the sights and sounds of jazz bands, parades and a hive of activity everywhere you look. The kids are awe-struck, meeting Mickey just inside the entrance and you are reminded of the magic of childhood.

It’s well laid-out, organised and there are plenty of staff, most of whom seem to be genuinely enjoying their work. The only exception to this came when we went to the ice cream parlour where we waited 40 minutes whilst one (not surprisingly) miserable assistant served  about as slowly as it’s possible to serve without actually stopping.

Eventually, a surly manager/supervisor appeared, stared at the queue and decided to open up another till and then another and the queue of 20 was gradually processed. Needless to say, we didn’t go back there again!

We had a great week, the weather held, very decently raining at night only. The queues weren’t too bad at all until the Saturday, when it seemed all of Paris arrived en masse.

Apart from the hotel, the main negatives of the trip centre on eating out. Between the hotels and the park is the Disney Village which you have to pass through a minimum of twice a day and this is where the restaurants and shops get you in a pincer movement to relieve you of any money you might have.

All the eateries are themed or franchised with big American influence and consequently the choice is very predictable and processed. Perhaps this doesn’t matter as the kids love to eat ‘junk’ and I was probably swimming against the tide, hoping to get some real French food that a talented chef had actually  produced rather than got out of a packet.

But the real shock is in the price, we tended to eat between 5pm and 7pm, dictated by the children’s metabolisms and hence took advantage of ‘Early bird’ offers similar to those we do in Bluestone’s restaurants. Well, the ‘special’ price was around 13-15 Euros for kids and 25-30 Euros for adults, meaning each evening meal was costing us around 80-100 Euros with drinks! With an exchange rate of 1:1 that’s hideously expensive to eat very average fare.

It puts things in perspective when dealing with comments from Bluestone guests who sometimes say our food is too expensive! But boy I wish I had their cost of sales! Oh well, c’est la vie……….

Compliments of the season

Today, it’s over to IT manager Julian Simpson, a man with an eye for the finer things in life, like nice cars, good wine, and Pembrokeshire in general…

With the constant background chatter of global warming blurring all seasons in to one, it is with great pleasure that I, being not of the climate change denier persuasion, do solemnly declare that Pembrokeshire has indeed had seasons this year. A cause for celebration and something I have been quite excited about!

The summer is now sadly a heady memory of open-top driving to various beauty spots in Wales, from the very gorgeous Snowdonia to the nearer-flung Preseli Hills and occasional jaunt to the ‘blue lagoon’. Not Blue Lagoon a la Bluestone, which is, of course, singularly divine as well (especially when full of blood-red water in celebration of Halloween) No, I am talking about a small, disused and not-so-recently flooded slate mine that has taken on the beautiful aqua marine hue of the rock and sea.

It is to this location that summer sun adrenaline junkies flocked in order to throw themselves off of the old slate towers of varying heights in to the cool, sparkling waters. It is also the only place I know where a braver 12-year-old is comfortable poking encouraging fun at an adult they have never met before!

Having been in this neck of the woods for a few years now, this experience is definitely a rite of passage, and one that can be swiftly followed up with a much-needed beer and pub lunch in a local hidden gem pub hideaway like the Druidstone Hotel or The Sloop at Porthgain. Indeed, if you are an aficionado of both good food and friendly people then one of these spots will find you both, in addition to the challenge of fitting your car past a hay wagon on a country lane.

Would that be a winding road with ocean view and stunning sunset?

But summer gave way to autumn and a brief spell of magic in the trees that was reminiscent of Canadian Maple trees turning. A trip up to the south side of Snowdonia took a few hours to do and on the way delivered winding B roads, hilly passes, ocean drives and national parks, all set against a golden yellowing of a billion leaves. This, in fact, presents one with a dilemma. You leave the dull, monotonous English motorways behind, with their speed cameras and middle lane road hogs and then you are forced to slow down and drive down the middle of the empty road so you can admire the view and give yourself some reaction time before the possibility of the side of the road becomes a real one. It’s a beautiful thing and something the locale delivers in spades.

Autumn arrives

 But now, as I write this, the bug splats on the number plate have been replaced by mud down the sills, winter has almost arrived, carried on a blustery wind and I am minded of the increasing need for somewhere warm and cosy, where one can watch the leaves blow around and the rain drops terrorise the somewhat already saturated ground. So that is what I end up doing on the late, dark afternoons and evenings of the working week. The outdoor animal in me does struggle a little I must say, but nature being what it is, one must pay lip service to the slowing down of life in the dusky months of winter.

It’s therefore a great time for reading or playing your choice games in the many friendly pub spots where wood fires burn and people keep you up with a full glass of wine! Give me this over the wintered city any day! After all, I still have the weekend light for an occasional outdoor wander or blast down the Gorlech bike trails on the edge of the Beacons. Now all we need is another sunny day so the top can come off the car once again. May it soon come to pass!

Flood of memories

When Louise Wright, PA to the Bluestone directors, saw the TV pictures of the recent floods  in Cumbria, the memories came flowing back…

Although Bluestone and certain parts of Pembrokeshire have been relatively unscathed by the recent flooding, hearing news reports and seeing television footage of the recent floods in Cockermouth and Workington made me feel extremely sympathetic to the residents in those towns whose lives have been turned upside down by the floods.

For me, it also brought back some very vivid memories of being ‘caught up’ in the July 2007 floods that hit Worcestershire and Gloucestershire. At the time Jim and I were living in Evesham in Worcestershire which has the River Avon running through it.

During the week of the floods I had been staying in Cardiff and on Friday 20th July I left Cardiff at around 4pm to travel back to Evesham.  I had spoken to Jim before leaving, and he warned me that there’d been a lot of rain around Evesham, and that he’d heard the M50 was closed. At that time, however, there were no bad reports for travelling on the M5 so I made my way back to Evesham by the M4 and M5.

The journey from Cardiff to Evesham would usually take around 90 minutes to two hours, but it was after 10pm when I finally exited the M5 at Junction 9 for Tewkesbury. 

The motorway journey was horrendous. So much water and traffic made the journey extremely slow and tiresome. 

From Junction 9, I took the road to Evesham and started to travel – slowly, thanks to the traffic jams – toward a village called Ashchurch. There, the roads were flooded and at one stage, we were being directed to come off the road and up onto a wide footpath to cross the water! 

After travelling a mile further, we came to a halt as the local council had decided to close the road for the night as it was too dangerous. There was no way of going forward and because of traffic jams, we could not go back. At this point, I was about eight miles from home. 

All of the cars were pulling slightly off the road as everyone knew that this was where we would be spending the night. It was now nearly 10.30pm. Fortunately, I had pulled in about 100 yards from a pub which had lights on, so I walked there but it was so crowded there wasn’t even any floor space! So I bought a couple of bottles of water and a packet of crisps and headed back to my car for the night.  Luckily, I had a duvet and pillow in the back of my car (from staying in Cardiff for the week) and so I tucked myself up.  After an uncomfortable night, at about 6am on the Saturday I set off to try to get back to Evesham. The eight-mile journey took over two hours but I eventually got home. 

I could not believe what had happened to the town.  The River Avon, which was usually so calm and beautiful with barges along the side, had burst its banks. The shops, houses, apartments, caravan parks, cars and our doctor’s surgery that were all close by, were completely taken over by the river.      

The river, normally about 200 metres away from our house had come to within 30 metres to the junction of our road. However, we were the lucky ones. Many people had a huge amount of damage to their homes and some could not move back into their properties until after Christmas that year.

During that Saturday (21st July,) the rescue teams were working to full capacity in Evesham and then moving onto Tewkesbury. We looked on as people were air-lifted by Chinook helicopters from the apartments next to the river just down from our house.

It is unbelievable that so many people’s lives can be turned upside down by what seems initially to be some ‘heavy rain’.  However, having seen the amazing rescue job that the services did in Evesham and Tewkesbury back in 2007 and the work that the local council and community did afterwards, I hope that the communities of Cockermouth and Workington will soon be able to re-build their lives, homes and livelihoods. 

We really should be thankful that Pembrokeshire and Bluestone have not been so badly affected, and look forward to a drier and brighter 2010!

Photo taken from our bedroom window of rescue about to take place from apartments by the river just down from our house

Road and junction leading to our road (river usually back beyond the tree in the centre at the back of the photo)

River Avon spilling over the road and the bridge

Just (OK, a bit) like Victor

Remember Victor Kiam? He was that bloke who used to advertise shavers, saying he liked them so much he bought the company. We have our own equivalent in the form of our new sales manager, Sharon Adams, who came to Bluestone as a guest during the summer, but liked it so much, she decided to stay…

I have recently moved to this beautiful area after a short break at Bluestone in August. I had originally come away to get away from the stress of my work life and to not have to spend any time in the car and with Bluestone just two hours away from where I used to live it was the perfect short break for me.

Little did I know that while on a rainy day in August, after being totally chilled out from a morning in the thermal rooms, a bright spark (and being sad enough to have my laptop with me) would change my life forever.

Being a little bit cheeky (well, a lot if I’m honest) I sent an email to Bluestone’s HR department while sat in the Tafarn after lunch, explaining that I was looking for a new challenge in my career. It was one of those moments where you press the ‘send’ button and then think ‘what have I done? They’ll all be in their office thinking ‘who is that cocky so and so?’

Far from it, actually. I had a lovely email back asking to meet me, which I did and the rest, as they say, is history.

So now I’ve found a great house, only 15 minutes from work and not the hour and a half as before, and moved myself and the cats west. Now my boxes are unpacked and the curtains are hung, I’ve started to explore the area around my new home.

Narberth! I love Narberth – it’s just amazing. Lots of little shops with the quirkiest of nick nacks to buy and everything from antiques to even a shop wholly dedicated to fabric squares to make patchwork quilts. There’s also some great fresh food available with butchers who could tell you the name of the cow who supplied your sirloin. The greengrocer has proper carrots, just pulled from the earth, their full leafy tops still attached. And there’s the most amazing delicatessen, where I could spend a whole day.

All around the area, I’ve been delighted by the amount of really good quality farm shops and I’ve taken to visiting these and the good old traditional local shops rather than going to Tesco. I’ve even bought eco-friendly bags to take shopping, which three months ago would have been totally un-heard of, so this area has definitely changed me!

There’s a farm shop just a mile or two away from Bluestone which looks nothing from the outside but is a total Aladdin’s cave inside with the most amazing local produce.  And tucked away in a village called Milton there’s not only a farm shop, which is always busy, but a traditional fishmonger as well. 

When I came down in August I was hoping to explore some of the many beaches I had read about while I was down here, but as it was a typically British summer, I ended up spending my break in the Spa and the Tafarn and not feeling one grain of sand! So I set to make this right and got out the Tom-Tom and entered ‘Beach’ into it and set off!

First, I came across Saundersfoot which reminded me very much of a traditional seaside town although early on a Sunday morning you could tell it’s where everyone goes to give the dog a run or walk off the night before.

Tenby was just down the road so I thought I would pay a visit, although it’s more ‘commercial’ than the areas I wanted to find. I had heard so much about it and now live very close to it, but it really is as picturesque as I’ve seen on the websites and TV with all of the pastel-coloured houses and the towering spire of St Mary’s Church.

I’ve since found out a little bit more about Tenby’s history with its medieval wall which dates back to the 1260’s and looks stunning as you walk through. But I’ve been even more surprised by everyone raving about Tenby’s night life so I think that needs a very thorough investigation – for research purposes of course!

The beaches everywhere are immaculate and the water looks so blue that even on a cold and windy Sunday morning you still wanted to go and dip your toe in.

So the first couple of weeks of my new life in West Wales has been exhilarating, whilst at the same time I’ve had to learn to slow my pace down a little – well a lot, but I’ve firmly got my feet in the sand now and cant wait to watch this amazing part of the country come to life and change through the seasons.

Visiting Bluestone was the best decision I’ve ever made and had the weather been better in August perhaps I would be just visiting next time. But, if you are ever in doubt if you should press the send button – do it!

Let us never speak of this again

This is the staff at Bluestone’s sales and marketing offices, dressed as children’s characters to raise money for Children In Need. NB: the weirdo in the Thunderbirds outfit is not me. It’s my evil twin.

Mmmm… creamy

Today, it’s over to Bluestone’s HR manager Mel Thompson, who shares with us her recipe for a delicious-sounding seasonal snifter…

Mel’s Merry Christmas Cream Recipe

We are coming up for that time of year again where we all think it completely acceptable to consume copious amounts of rich, indulgent and totally delicious food and drink. Indeed the usual suspects are being advertised and many people will be digging to the back of the cupboard and dusting off special glasses ready to brave their annual snowball whilst wearing their new Christmas jumper and socks courtesy of Aunty something. So I would like to share my recipe for Irish Cream (Bailey’s) with you, which is quick, easy, is totally divine and makes a great gift.

Ingredients: (makes one litre)

300g / 10oz (one tin) Dulce de leche

1 tbsp instant coffee dissolved in one tbsp boiling water

1 tbsp vanilla extract (not essence)

300ml whiskey (cheap brand best, alternatively make with brandy)

426mls single cream

Bottles (single serve wine bottles are ideal)

Method:

Put Dulce de leche in a bowl, beat in coffee, vanilla and whiskey until smooth. Stir in cream. Put through a sieve into bottles. Keep refrigerated and serve over ice or ice cream.

Bluestone to Denmark and back

They say you can always tell a keen motorcyclist by the flies stuck to his teeth. Personally, I’m not sure what they mean by that. Doesn’t sound very hygienic does it? Anyway, this week, I’m delighted to hand over the blog reins to Richard Brookman, our health and safety manager, and a man with a passion for the pastime they reckon is the closest you can come to flying without leaving the ground…

Summer 2009 was a very busy time for all of us at Bluestone, and it was not until autumn had arrived that I got the chance to take a break from the rural haven that is Pembrokeshire. So it was with a sigh of relief that I rolled the bike off the Eurotunnel train at Calais and headed off towards the autoroute. Remember to ride on the right, I told myself, before filling the tank, scooting off down the slip-road, and joining the insanity of the French motorway system.

The original plan had been to tour France together on the bike. My wife is not a seasoned biker, but she was prepared to give it a go, and I even changed my bike to something with a wider, softer, better seat for the passenger in honour of her bad back. However, she suffered quite a lot of ill-health this year and we decided to postpone the Big Trip until 2010. That left me with itchy feet and nowhere to take them, so I was delighted when she suggested that I should go off on my own for a week or so.

I have a friend in Denmark who has a bikes-only campsite, and when he heard I was looking for a destination he suggested that I join him there. And so it was planned. I booked the crossing, took out some insurance, and left Pembrokeshire on a cold Tuesday morning.

I crossed by Eurotunnel and was in Belgium by tea-time. I had a campsite marked on the map, which had been recommended by a friend, and turned up there. Unfortunately, the owners were Flemish-speaking and refused to communicate in any other way. English and French were clearly offensive to them, and even my basic German and Italian were not deemed acceptable, so we did the deal in sign language. I don’t think the leathers and 500 miles’ worth of dead flies on the helmet helped my case.

The following day I got back on the motorway and headed through Holland and Germany to Denmark. The ride was, to be honest, very dull, although the ability to do three-figure speeds through Germany without the fear of being pulled over was quite a novelty. I arrived at the campsite at 10 pm, to meet my friend and be plied with beer. I’m still not sure how I got the tent up.

It was my first time in Denmark, and I loved it. It’s clean and well-managed, a bit like Holland, and the drivers are courteous and – how can I put this kindly? – slow. They will tell you that they are all descended from good Viking stock, but in reality they are pussycats. My good impression was helped by the generosity of my hosts, who plied me with food and drink and wouldn’t take a penny in payment.

We had a few good days out, touring round Jylland and seeing the sights. The most memorable thing for me was the museum in Århus, and the sight of Grauballe Man, a body dug out of the peat in 1952, and estimated to have been buried around 300BC. He was perfectly preserved by the chemicals in the peat, so that even his fingerprints were clearly visible. I sat for a long time in mute contemplation of human destiny, the fragility of life, and so on. Then we went to lunch.

We went to a ‘treff’, or rally, at the end of the week. I didn’t quite know what to expect – just that bikers from all over Denmark would be there. It was a fairly quiet affair in the end (most bikers are getting on a bit these days) and I was surprised to have an excellent night’s sleep, as from 11 pm the place was silent.

I set off on Sunday morning to return to Bluestone. I stopped before I left Denmark to see the fabled Runestone of Gorm, and after that it was motorway all the way to Holland. I stayed the night at another bikers’ campsite near to Arnhem, and spent the next day visiting the war cemetery at Oosterbeek, where the dead from the Arnhem campaign (the ‘Bridge Too Far’ battles) are laid to rest. My wife’s uncle is buried there, and I duly paid my respects.

The following day I made it home in one long hit. Five countries in a day (Holland, Belgium, France, England, Wales) and about 500 miles. The journey was uneventful except for a Biblical downpour between Folkestone and Reading, the only rain of the entire trip.

The holiday ticked off a few ‘firsts’ for me: first time abroad on a motorbike, first holiday on my own, first crossing by Eurotunnel, and first visits to Belgium, Germany and Denmark. Sometimes it is good to push oneself to do new things; it’s all too easy in middle age (which I suppose I am now, reluctantly) to go with the routine and stay comfy. I was very glad I made the effort to go. 2500 miles, seven countries, plenty of interesting food and drink, and a whole lot of new friends. The bike (six years old, with a hard life of Police patrolling behind it) never missed a beat.

Next mission – the four corners of the UK. Read about it here first.

Spooktacular II

Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, we are proud to present some footage taken at Spooky Splash, the Halloween event at Blue Lagoon…. 

Spooktacular

People are still raving about the Spooky Splash event held at Blue Lagoon the night before Halloween, so I thought I’d belatedly post some pics of it. The line-up of forthcoming events at Pembrokeshire’s premier water park is due to be announced shortly, so watch this space for details (or, at least, a link to where you can find the details).