SIT DOWN AND BE QUIET....

...now let's begin. Get out your books and start reading chapter three. When you've done that go away and write 500 words. Class dismissed.

Education was once a bit like that for many of us. School may be 60 years back in the past and time may have softened some of edges of our memories but for more and more people, learning is the new retirement buzz. Going back to college, night school or even University is certainly a challenge and, do you know, we can achieve something which once seemed a distant dream - a degree.

That happened to me and it was a rewarding experience that I never expected to get in my third age. After qualifying as a City of London Guide and spending a year learning about Samuel Pepys and Charles Dickens among many others, I not only qualified to take people on walking tours of the City but also stimulated my interest in history.

A year and three 12-week evening courses later I felt the time had come to go for the big one - a University degree. I signed on at Birkbeck, University of London and began four years of study that ranged from the establishing of convict colonies in Australia, the impact of the Indian mutiny, the rise of Hollywood and the building of London's main sewage system.

Twice a week I would leave home, take my bicycle by train into London and then pedal across to Malet Street. Time in the library was followed by lectures and seminars before setting off for home at 8.00 pm to make sure I was indoors in time for a cup of hot chocolate before the BBC News started. No diving into a pub or the Students Union for a beer or two. Remember, I had my bike!

In four years I completed and passed all the modules and wrote 12 long essays and a dissertation. It wasn't easy for an ageing body to cycle through London on a cold January evening or retain all the information and knowledge in a brain that was already well-stocked with a lifetime of working experiences. But I kept going. My daughter had got a history degree at Warwick University, the first in the family to do so, and I was determined to achieve that success as well.

Six months after my 71st birthday, my name was read out at the Graduation Ceremony and I stepped forward to collect the certificate to prove I had achieved a 2:1 BA History (Hons) degree. Yes, it felt good and all the other golden oldies around were looked well satisfied. Birkbeck has a great record in part-time University learning for older and 'mature' students and we all consider it now 'our Uni'.

It's not easy returning to education after such a long gap and many people had real problems about their ability to write essays. There were those who struggled and even agonised over their efforts and then were incensed that the mark did not reflect the number of hours they had spent outlining their theories on paper. I was one of them at first, submitting essays which were considered too journalistic and not showing enough analysis and argument.

But on Graduation Day in July 2010 it all seemed worthwhile. It had been challenge and, at times, doubt had crept in. But the achievement made it worthwhile. It was a hugely enjoyable four years.

OLYMPICS 2012: WE CAN'T TAKE PART - BUT WE WANT TO BE THERE!

The man on the radio was very enthusiastic. Yes, he said, the 2012 Olympics were going to be a great boost to everyone and it didn't matter whether you were living in Stratford or South Shields, the Games would offer something for you. He even suggested that people, ordinary people, were going to get caught up in the Olympic spirit and maybe even compete in the beach volleyball in the Mall or the canoeing at Broxbourne. Wow! Count me in!

But he wasn't talking to me. I don't think there's ever been someone over 70 who's won any kind of Olympic medal even though Sir Stephen Redgrave was almost hailed as a golden oldie when he collected his fifth gold at the 2004 Games. He was on the same radio programme giving his well-rehearsed "I-am-an-Olympic-legend" chat and reminding us all that even he, at 50 years old, was no longer capable of getting to the starting line let alone running, swimmming, rowing or doing anything else that requires either speed, stamina, power and often all three at the same time.

Sir Stephen will have plenty of media attention and VIP treatment during the 2012 Games while some of us will need a bus pass just to get there. Will there be any concessions for the millions of oldies who will be taking this last chance to see the World's greatest sporting spectacle? I doubt it. When the man on the radio was asked about tickets for 2012 he made no mention of special rates for oldies - but I bet students and under-16s will get some concessions.

The tickets don't go on sale until 2011 - and there will be around 7 million available. A lot of those will go to 'privileged' representatives, officials and corporate customers and you can be sure that many of them will be making quite a song and dance about the fact they have tickets for the opening ceremony, the 100 metres final, the swimming and all the other high profile events. You won't see them on Hadleigh Downs or at the canoeing heats!

We need to have a campaign: I love campaigns. Let's make a fuss and insist that all those over 65 should qualify for special admission prices and at least have a chance of seeing some of the athletic or swimming finals. We don't want to have concessions for the Greco-Roman wrestling and early rounds of the boxing that often take place before lunch. We should be able to buy - at a reduced rate - a book of tickets that include a cross-section of sporting events and include one or two finals.

They keep talking about the legacy of the Games and what it will mean to the children and young people who will be inspired by the events and performances they see in London. That's alright if you are 7, 17 or 27 - but tell me what anyone of 67 and 77 will get out of it! Well I suggest the man on the radio goes back to his Olympic friends and they all put on their thinking caps. Let's have some ideas that embrace the whole population.

Of course the Olympics are all about sporting achievement and supreme fitness but that shouldn't exclude anyone who can't run for a bus or jump over the puddles outside Sainsburys. As I have said many times on this blog, there are a lot of us out there. So the question is clear - what are they going to offer the golden oldies before, during and after 2012. We deserve a legacy as well.

A gold medal for the best suggestion!

THE CHRISTMAS YAWN

We all love it, of course. Christmas. Eat and drink too much then stretch out and snore away the hours until the next round of food and booze. Happens every year. Just to make you realise it's not all fun and festivities there are always a few family arguments to liven up the proceedings. The latest board game seemed like a good idea when it was purchased - but the rules weren't designed to be understood by anyone who has just had a few too many Bristol Cream sherries. You cheated. No, I didn't. That's me finished. Count me out.

Was it always like that? Well, yes it was actually. The TV also seemed to dominate Christmas Day and Boxing Day and there weren't many who would switch it off if Morecambe and Wise were doing one of their specials. And those who liked to wear some silly Santa outfit could spend the afternoon on the terraces watching a football match that was often an anti-climax for the largest crowd of the season.

As the years go by, the attractions of staying up late to play games, get drunk and watch a Hollywood blockbuster are not so appealing. Bed is far more inviting even if that means leaving the grandchildren downstairs to cause havoc as they become too tired for comfort and often very fractious.

The best part is still that walk after Christmas lunch..."to get a bit of fresh air". It does help to release some of the flatulence induced by the Brussel sprouts and the cup of tea when you return is very welcome. The presents which seemed like a good idea when you saw them in Marks and Spencer or Toys R Us are now piled in the corner almost forgotten. They will come out again on Boxing Day - but those gloves were not a good idea and there's already a suggestion that the shirt will be returned because it's the wrong size. Next year you vow to buy everything on-line.

The build-up to this period of over-indulgence becomes more frenetic as the hours and minutes tick by. By Christmas Day it's clear that there are too many tins of Quality Street, plates of nuts everywhere that bring on coughing fits and enough alcohol to have the neighbours round every night for a month. Next year, says someone, we are thinking of going to a hotel for a few days.

You never do. It's a just another example of the idle chit-chat that dominates the social banter when the tele isn't on. This is not an occasion for deep, philosphical conversations and for that we should be more than thankful. In fact, it's the best time for doing nothing except eating, drinking and sleeping. And my favourite is sleeping.

So I'm off to bed. You can't do that; it's only 10 o'clock. I can - and I am.

Good night.

BACK TO THE BOOKS AND THE BICYCLE

Back at college - year four, week one. Just nine months to go before my exams next May and handing in my dissertation. It seems like only yesterday that my journey towards a BA History degree at Birkbeck began yet by the time I celebrate my 71st birthday in December, the pressure will really be on.

This week it was good seeing some familiar faces, students who were with me on previous courses, especially Giles, another grey-haired oldie, who admits to struggling but is hanging on. He and I are on the "Social Changes in 19th century Britain" course and this fits in nicely with the other courses I have completed in previous years.

I have volunteered to do a presentation on "The European Experience of Declining Fertility" in week three so reading papers on subjects about women, sex and contraception is high on my list of learning priorities! Can't say that I know much about these sort of things but, who knows, I may finish up with a lot of knowledge on this issue. My LONDON FOOTSTEPS walkers may like to know more!

The other course is "Colonial Encounters: Race, Identity and Cultural exchange in the British Empire" which is all about events and developments in Africa, India and Australia. It will focus on the role and attitudes of the Brits as Empire builders and colonialists but from a different perspective.

The bicycle has been cleaned and oiled so the twice-weekly journey across London from the railway station to the college is on two wheels rather than relying on London Transport. Makes a big difference after lectures because I can be back on the train within 30 minutes and home before 10 pm. This may sound irrelevant but waiting for a London bus on a dreary winter evening is no fun so the bicycle has been an essential part of my travel plans over the past three years.

The College has been expensively re-organised with new lecture rooms and computer facilities everywhere. Dell must be making a fortune. The college is always crowded during the first few weeks and this suggests that a lot of people are signing on for a whole range of degree courses and willing to combine work with part-time education. Those who have work and family commitments must find it very difficult giving a number of hours each week to their studies. Several of those who started at the same time as I did have decided on one course a year instead of two and extended their time from four to five or even six years.

I'm looking forward to this final year but not without some trepidation. The amount of reading and studying has increased which is why I have given up my job as Chairman of the Manchester Drive Allotment Society. You wouldn't believe the amount of paper-work, telephone calls, emails and trouble-shooting the job demands! That's the subject for another blog.

For the moment it's back to the study of "Gender and fertility decline among the British Middle Classes". Here we go again.

A GREAT WAY TO FLY. RUBBISH!

It's time to put the record straight. British Airways are a company who look after those who pay extortionate fare prices and don't care much for those who sit down the back-end of the aircraft and are crushed into seating that is totally unsuitable for anyone over the age of 12.

No leg room for normal people; seats that tilt back and nearly decapitate the person in the row behind; food that is barely edible and coffee that tastes like - well certainly not coffee. The cabin staff have perfected the art of treating these 'lower' classes like something people find on the soles of their shoes after walking across a cow field.

There is not much attempt to make the trip a bit more comfortable. I would liked to have read an English newspaper when we left Boston but a polite request to the steward in response to my "do you have any English newspapers?" was a curt "No. You can get the BBC news on your screen." I'd already seen The Times appearing in the 'up-market' sections of the aircraft - and later he came down the aisle with the Daily Mail.

The food is served up like school dinners. Get on with it and don't ask questions. The staff much prefer to hide behind curtains and talk loudly about their schedules.
"Last week I went to Rio. Next week it's Calgary and Vancourver. Have you been to Cape Town. What hotel did you stay in while in Vegas?" It's the kind of loud, casual chat that is for the benefit of nearby passengers trying to get some shut-eye.

Finally we arive in London, crumbled, aching, tired and, yes, irritable. It's over for the cabin staff - so they are laughing and joking amongst themselves without so much as a goodbye and thanks for flying BA. The Chief Steward and one other member of the cabin crew were prepared to wish us a safe onward journey. The rest of the staff gave the impression they were glad to see us go.

So flight BA 214 from Boston to London on 2nd October 2009 was a grim and uncomfortable experience. Those sitting at the back-end were made to feel as though we were doing BA a favour. It seems there is a culture within this huge company that the 'oiks' don't matter. Wrong. They do. Next time we go to America then Mr Richard Branson will get our business.

BUTLINS TO BOSTON - IN 49 YEARS

Doesn't seem like 49 years ago we were enjoying the delights of Butlins Holiday Hotel at Margate. But honeymoons only come round once in a lifetime - for most of us fortunately - and I don't remember too much about it. I certainly couldn't have imagined that in 2009 we would be celebrating the 1st October anniversary in the Seaport Hotel, Boston, Massachusetts.

Margate remains a sad place these days. Unemployment is high and as a holiday destination it's hardly worth a mention. Boston on the other hand is a prosperous city that has all the atmosphere and excitement of modern America. If there is a recession and a financial crisis then it seems to have passed this place by.

I must have enjoyed a few pints of beer at Butlins in 1960 but I can't remember what the room was like. We didn't have a car - and probably couldn't afford taxis at the time. But who would want to go and hit the town when Butlins can provide such in-house entertainment. Those were the days of dancing the night away to a three or four piece playing the latest Frank Sinatra numbers. It was even pre-Beatles and Rolling Stones.

We don't have the energy to do that sort of thing 49 years later. We're now taking it easy in a quiet corner of this hotel waiting to catch the bus to Logan Airport and a six hour flight back to the UK. Around us are people enjoying cocktails and watching the news that Rio has beaten Chicago for the 2016 Olympics on screens in every corner of the hotel. The new arrivals are checking in for their Boston weekend breaks. They wouldn't be interested in our tales of Margate!

Nor would all the jolly souls attending a seminar for the New England Society for Vascular Surgery. They have their badges and name tags, the bags and the pens and have been flooding into the mezzanine area to 'network' and taste the Seaport Hotel goodies and fine wine. Wonder what they talk about? This must be what is meant by having a heart-to-heart chat.

So we tick off another year and look forward to a big celebration in 2010. Won't be here in Boston or at Margate though. A family get-together is much more appropriate and most of the people around us will understand that in a few years time.

A TASTE OF THE GOOD LIFE

We all know that Americans love their food - and enjoy it in great quantities. But for those of us who have diminishing appetities - and I refer to those of us seniors - then it becomes something of an endurance test. Can we really eat all that mountain of food on the table?

Boston is the home of great sea food; that's my assessment although all the guide books tell you that. Scallops, littlenecks (guess what they are), clams, scrod, chowder, lobster - you name it, they catch it and produce a whole range of inventive and tasty dishes that are worth every mouthful.

But there's just too much. The bread that comes beforehand, the salad and, like the other night at the world famous Anthony's at Pier 4, the plate of garlic musrooms, all these can fill you up before the main course arrives. Who wants to be stuffed before enjoying the dish of the day.

So here's the tip. Avoid the appetizers and go straight to the main course. If you enjoy that and still have room for a dessert then fine. But in my experience, the real joy are the main courses - and there's always plenty on the plate.