.What do you give the man who knows everything?

Well, I did contemplate ‘a punch in the gob if he doesn’t shut up’…

On the usual train back from Manchester to Newcastle, I was somewhat entertained by one of the people sat near me — not in my ‘block’ of seats, but one nearby. I wouldn’t normally talk about this sort of thing (although I have done before), but I reckoned when the gentleman in that section pointed out to all of the people sat near him that the bloke directly across from me was asleep — “look at him, snoring away there!” — he became fair game for comment.

He was an interesting character. I presume he didn’t actually know the people he sat next to, but by the end of the train journey, they knew his opinions on pretty much the lot. It started with a reasonable enquiry — “where are you going?” — to one of them, who responded that he lived in Newcastle. Innocuous enough, you might think. But that’s where it all started.

Newcastle

This prompted a two-minute ramble about everything Newcastle United were doing wrong, from the ’serial quitter’ Keegan through to the problems with Mike Ashley and on the pitch, until at last the prospective Newcastle fan pointed out that he wasn’t from Newcastle, although he lived there, and he was in fact a Liverpool fan.

This was a foolish mistake, as it gave the aforementioned gent the opportunity to extol at some length exactly how good Liverpool were in having beaten Real Madrid so comfortably (a fair enough point), which then segued neatly into how much it cost to see football these days, how all the players were paid far too much, the attitude of the players was all wrong, and basically how back in the day, everything used to be better.

French Ships

The gentleman — let’s call him Henry, as he needs some sort of a name, and I have no idea what his actually was — then expressed his concern about the people in Newcastle being in danger from the French ships. This caused a certain amount of puzzlement, as no-one seemed to have realised that the North-East coast was being shelled by French warships at present, but it turned out that mental image was wrong.

“The French Aircraft carriers! They’re dismantling them!”, quoth Henry, as if his audience were living in blissful ignorance to what was going on in their backyard. Someone ventured that they thought this dismantling of the ‘ghost ships’ might have been actually taking place in Hartlepool, but it was all the same to Henry, who continued unabated suggesting that “I can’t understand what possible reason they would have for taking them. Mind, they need the jobs in Newcastle, don’t they?”

It’s obviously very kind of Hartlepool to take on the ghost ships and the associated pollution risks and give all the related jobs to residents of Newcastle, some fifty miles away. But Henry was not to be stopped, saying it was madness that they would be taken on in the UK when ‘Taiwan and India and all that didn’t want them, because they are so dangerous’. Foolishly, someone then attempted to put up an argument — “maybe they aren’t as dangerous as you think when properly handled”, only to be shot down by Henry’s knowledge again — “don’t you know they are chock full of toxits and stuff?” (I presume ‘toxins’ was what was meant, although he might have meant wotsits).

Again, the argument was batted back to him with “well, isn’t it possible that Hartlepool has the facilities to deal with them correctly, and places in Taiwan or wherever might not have had the same facilities” — but Henry’s riposte was again swift and sure: “I don’t know why they’d do it, it’s just dangerous, isn’t it?”

The fact that…

…the destination of Hartlepool for the ship and an estimated 700 tonnes of asbestos on board won the approval of some of the best known environmental organisations. [...] Hartlepool, they said, has the facilities to deal with toxic materials, particuarly the asbestos and other dangerous substances known to be on board the former French flagship.The Times

…seemed to have passed him by somewhat, presumably because our Henry knows best.

That Bloody Jack Straw

Feeling that he’d won that argument, he then moved directly onto law and order, suggesting that all criminals are being released eighteen months before the ends of their sentences and then being given one and three quarter million pounds in compensation, which apparently he wasn’t happy about. Again, someone pointed out that they didn’t think every criminal was getting out eighteen months early, and they certainly weren’t getting millions each. Henry acknowledged the second point, but insisted that his all-round knowledge was good, because he had read it, and that’s why he thought Jack Straw was doing such a bad job as Home Secretary.

I wasn’t sufficiently daft to get involved in the argument, but it was at this point that I began taking notes, particularly since Jack Straw was succeeded as home secretary by David Blunkett in 2001, with Charles Clarke, John Reid and the current incumbent Jacqui Smith all having had a shot since then.

To my mind, the fact he hadn’t been Home Secretary for the last 8 years would possibly explain why he doesn’t seem to be doing a great job in that role. However, I am being a little mean to Henry here, as Jack is Secretary of State for Justice, which does relate to, well, the justice system. But I won’t let that stop me, as there was so much more to come…

Whitley Bay

Jumping back into the geographical field, he pointed out that Whitley Bay was lovely, and a lovely place to go for a holiday, indeed quite a nice place to go for a weekend and a lovely night out. One of the people across from him queried this slightly, suggesting that the town centre got a bit ‘wild west’ on a saturday night and was perhaps a little boisterous.

Personally, I took this to mean ‘full of violent drunks’. Either missing or completely ignoring the point, Henry ploughed on, suggesting that it was a shame that the weather wasn’t like it was in Spain, so all the young ‘uns didn’t go there for their holidays.

Now before all you Bayites write in and complain, I’m not saying Whitley Bay is necessarily a hotspot for drunken disorder and crime, merely that I suspect someone who lives nearby is more likely to have an accurate perception of it than someone who doesn’t live nearby.

Facebook

I was too busy scribbling down notes about Jack Straw and Whitley Bay to catch exactly how Henry’s enclopedic knowledge of Facebook came to light, but he wasn’t one for hiding it under a bushel, and proceeded to take us on a destination from ‘young people using Facebook’ to ‘that’s what’s wrong with the world today’, calling at ‘Don’t Play Outside Anymore’, ‘Hang Around In Gangs On Street Corners’, ‘Arrange to trash peoples houses online’, ‘They ought to try living in the real world and getting a job’, and, of course ‘National Service’.

I had to admit at being particularly impressed at the way he segued straight from ‘Don’t Play Outside Anymore’ to ‘Hang Around In Gangs On Street Corners’ without seeming to notice any contradiction. And as to specifically why Facebook was responsible for all the world’s ills, I’m not entirely sure, but Henry was convinced of it.

By this time, I had noticed that Henry’s poor travelling companions (well, the people unfortunate enough to have taken seats near him) were restricting their answers to nods, the occassional ‘uh-huh’ and general grunts of vague assent. Henry was of course oblivious to this: he, the master lecturer, was holding court and those on board the train were privilidged to be present.

The White Sausage

Fastening on to the gentleman who lived in Newcastle, Henry asked him if he’d tried the ‘famous white sausage that they have up there’. He said he didn’t know about any famous white sausage, causing Henry to laugh and exclaim that of course it was foolish that he, a Scouser, would be expected to know about it, it was a proper Geordie thing, and all the Geordies loved them.

The Scouser’s two companions — both claiming to be Geordies — then claimed that they hadn’t heard of it either. Henry expressed dismay at this, saying that it was a traditional Geordie dish, eaten with ‘Scottie bread’, and that “Geordies eat them all the time”.

For what it’s worth, I’ve not heard of ‘the famous white sausage’ either. Nor have I heard of ‘Scottie Bread’. Although I have heard of Stottie bread (also called Stottie Cake) which is a traditional foodstuff… and indeed very nice for sandwiches, toast and so on.

Update: I presume this was a reference to white pudding, but I had always seen that as more of a Scottish or Irish thing, the only place I have ever seen it offered in the North-East being Oirish theme bars.

The Leeds Museum

Disgusted with the lack of knowledge the people near him had about the area they lived in, Henry proceeded to tell them about what was in Leeds, where he lived. It has “The Leeds Museum”, with three floors — he emphasised the three, which apparently contains “everything”. One of the Geordies (Geordie Lass) enquired as to whether it still had the stuffed Tiger and the stuffed Yak, which Henry confirmed, whilst re-affirming that it had everything.

Whether Leeds Museum actually has a stuffed Tiger and a stuffed Yak, I have no idea, but I rather hope that Geordie Lass had made the whole thing up for her own amusement.

Update: sadly, it would appear not — the Tiger and a Yak both getting a mention…

She then asked where Leeds Museum was.

In Leeds! Where on earth did you bloody think it was going to be?Henry

She then explained — rather more patiently than warranted, in my opinion — that yes, she had presumed that it was in Leeds, but she was endeavouring to determine whereabouts in Leeds such a thing may be found.

Bins

I think we should just all go back to the black bins! I’ve got two different bins I’m supposed to put my stuff in, I just sling it all in one, I don’t see why I should have to sort it all out. Have you still got black bins up in Newcastle?Henry

The idea that someone should have three separate bins into which they are supposed to put different sorts of waste seemed somewhat confusing, as did the colours, Henry questioning that anyone should have a blue bin, and asking the person whether or not they were sure it wasn’t brown.

York Minster

Henry then announced that it was disgraceful that people should be expected to pay £5.50 to go and visit York Minster, because “you should be able to go to a church for free”. Geordie Lass suggested that maybe this was because the upkeep costs were high, and besides you could still get into some parts of York Minster for free, apparently.

No, Henry insisted, they shouldn’t be doing that. They shouldn’t charge you money to go into a church.

Geordie Lass suggested that she didn’t believe you actually had to pay to go to the church services, only to look round York Minster as a tourist, but that cut no ice with Henry, who maintained that they shouldn’t be doing that, that everyone had to pay, whether they were wanting to attend a service or not and pointed out that “you don’t have to pay to go to the one on Holy Island, up near you, do you?”

Geordie Lass suggested that yes, you did. Henry again proclaimed that they shouldn’t be doing that, that he rather doubted that they actually were, and anyway, even if they were, last time he’d been on Holy Island they had rang a bell and told him to get off the island and you don’t see walruses there anymore.

Note: for those of you, such as Henry, who appear to demonstrate ignorance of the geography of Holy Island, it is an island with a causeway which connects it to the mainland at low tide. They therefore warn people to get off the island as an alternative to being stuck there (or driving their cars into the sea and having to be rescued by the coastguard at great public expense because they assume the warnings don’t apply to them for some reason). Of course, Henry would probably argue that they shouldn’t be cutting people off at high tide, and that would be the end of that.

Oh, and here’s the admission charges for Lindisfarne Priory. And as for York Minster…

Charges are made for those visiting for sightseeing (see below) [...] No charges are made for those who wish to enter the Minster to pray or light a candle: please ask a member of staff on arrival.York Minster

And as regards Walruses (shouldn’t that be Walri?) while I suppose it’s conceivably possible you might find a walrus up there, it’s a bit out of their normal range.

Bees

I’d actually been having a conversation about bees recently — there’s a chap I know who is doing a beekeeping course. As an aside, I don’t understand what’s allegedly so hard about ‘beekeeping’. You get bees, lock them in a safe, you’ve kept them. They might not be productive bees, or even alive bees, but no-one could argue that you weren’t keeping ‘em.

Anyway, Henry pointed out that bees were disappearing. He informed those nearby (by this time he had also started directing his attentions to someone stood near him, as well as the three sat nearest) that this was because of the ainti mite (he spelled it out) which was attacking queen bees and making them fly off elsewhere, and that this would inevitably lead, within 5 to 8 years, to everyone starving because there would be no plants.

Now I have actually heard about the collapse of various bee colonies — he was on to something here — I’ve certainly heard about what is being termed Colony Collapse Disorder. However, I believe the “cause” is less clear, and had actually read recently that there was ‘no proof’ of bee killer theory. Anyway, where was I?

He suggested that bee colonies had collapsed in Yorkshire, indicating that Yorkshire used to support 36 bee hives but now 10 of them were gone. I’d suggest this would mean that Yorkshire was already particularly low on bees, and that either he’s got the number of hives wrong, or someone in the York & District Beekeepers Association is lying when they say…

With over 100 registered beekeepers, York & District is one of the largest Beekeeping Associations in the Yorkshire area.York & District Beekeepers association

…unless of course around 65% of the York District Beekeepers don’t actually keep bees.

It’s amazing what you can find out if you look. I didn’t realise the Government has a National Bee Unit for a start…

Anyway, I accept that if bee stocks collapse dramatically or disappear completely, it will have a significant impact on us because not only do bees produce honey (which is nice of them, I mean, you don’t get wasps making jam, or ants making peanut butter), but they are also significant pollinators and lots of crops will struggle.

So the crop problem is true, to a point. If you suggest that bee stocks will continue to collapse dramatically, and that nothing else will be able to carry out the appropriate insect pollination. However, and presumably because he’d included too many facts in the current diatribe, he ploughed on, insisting that without bees, our standard cereal crops such as corn and barley would not grow, because they would not be pollinated.

These particular plants will not bee pollinated in the first place of course, because they are in fact wind pollinated. This is why they don’t have nectar, or big flowers or bee guides. However, there are still plenty other crop plants pollinated by bees.

Leeds (2)

And then, just when I was considering whether I’d need to split Henry up into two blog posts, he got off at Leeds…

And I didn’t even thank him, for making an otherwise boring journey more fun. Obviously, I wouldn’t have had so much fun if he’d been talking at me — at least unless I’d had the courage to be making notes while he was talking to me — but from my point of view it was entertaining to watch and listen to.

And, unlike my previous train journey story, this one is true.