“Afterwards”: (Dare to Dream)

By Terry Dobson

Afterwards – Dare to Dream is a combination of many tales and experiences, told with honesty and veracity and reflecting on an eventful past, present and future.

This book was written as a supplementary addition to the times and events found in a trilogy of publications, And then came Agadoo, Abri – My Oasis and Another Day Another Time.

A further account throughout the lifetime of the Author Terry Dobson, bringing the many surprises and events recorded in a family unit throughout a period of unprecedented times into the spotlight.

Playing drums with the hugely successful pop band, Black Lace, the authors period in retirement, and perhaps a potential yet to be determined.

Enjoy the author’s attempt at bringing back to life those memories and events, a journey with a life of experience…

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Dec 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781665583527

Terry Dobson

An Englishman’s home is his castle, a safe haven, a place of sanctuary, a very true statement indeed. If it is, a house, flat or bungalow, small or very large and you own it outright, incredible… On the other hand, you may have acquired an enormous loan, large or tiny mortgage or paying a low or extremely high rent or own it outright to live there... Whatever or wherever the property is located. It is your home, your castle, your Abri. This story is about just that, a structure, and a home, a home with a family and all its limitations… Not just any home, an architecturally designed bungalow constructed for the owner some 57 years ago and resurrected from certain devastation from the hands of despicable vandals by the author. Stood there, void, boarded up, ransacked, and dejected, for over four years, waiting, waiting… Waiting for that special someone to save it! The Author now living in harmony with the unique countryside surroundings for over four years, until… The time has come to fight and save it once again.

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© 2021 Terry Dobson. All rights reserved.

Artworks by John Dales

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/22/2020

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8353-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8354-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8352-7 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Afterwards

(Dare to Dream)

This book is a work of non-fiction and based on the life and times, experiences, and recollections of the author, Terry Dobson.

In some extremely limited cases, the names of people and places, dates, and the sequence of events have been changed solely to protect the privacy of those that feature in this story.

The contents of this book are true; however, because of the timescales covered by the author, there may be some minor inaccuracies, nevertheless, they should not affect the overall honesty and integrity of the work.

The author apologizes for any omissions, recollections, opinions, times, and events that have been covered in these stories that may be remembered differently by others and those adapted from previous works, namely:

And then came Agadoo – Black Lace

ABRI - My Oasis

Another Day Another Time

The author, his immediate family, and friends have supplied the photographs contained in this work.

John Dales is the artist who has provided the cartoon drawings in these publications.

Afterwards

(Dare to Dream)

Another compilation of stories times and events that cover many experiences I have had the pleasure of being embroiled in.

From the outset, I have sought to bring you my innermost feelings and intimate thoughts, all be it, at times, those are just as confused as our is world today.

In particular these last twelve months, when life as we once knew it, has changed beyond recognition.

I want you to enjoy reading my anecdotes as much as I have enjoyed writing them.

Thank You

Terry Dobson

A Dedication

Once again, I feel indebted to my immediate family.

For their help and continued patience and understanding during the many hours of research and writing Afterwards.

This, a fourth book about me and my life, my desires and aspirations, also my family, it’s ups and downs and the constant queries and prompts received about my band life, my own and our family’s past endeavors.

To all of my friends and colleagues at the Rosse Observatory Pontefract, for putting their trust in me by electing me to the position of Vice Chairman, and currently standing in as temporary Chairman.

Also, once again to my stargazing companion, Amanda, for taking time out of her own busy home, work, and voluntary calendar, in helping me with proofreading and punctuation.

My band mates for listening to these and many other stories and anecdotes during rehearsals and at gigs.

And finally, to my mum Jean, who at 89 years of age, continues to be an inspiration to me.

Thank you     53756.png

Terry.jpg

Contents

Foreword

Poem

Poem

Chapter 1 Sometime Afterwards

Chapter 2 Mister Stargazer?

Chapter 3 The Beast from the East

Chapter 4 A Day in the Life…

Chapter 5 Both feet first?

Chapter 6 Rule of Thumb!

Chapter 7 Gift of the Gab?

Chapter 8 A SUN-day with a difference

Chapter 9 The Wrong Hole?

Chapter 10 Once a Boss - Always a Boss?

Chapter 11 My Retirement Plan

Chapter 12 Happy Times?

Chapter 13 An Evening with Hector?

Chapter 14 I Wish

Chapter 15 A Bit of a Scare?

Chapter 16 Friends

Chapter 17 My Last Day?

Chapter 18 Gentle Giant?

Chapter 19 A Weekend Treat?

Chapter 20 Tenerife March 2019

Chapter 21 Is this Music?

Chapter 22 Vital Statistics

Chapter 23 That is Life?

Chapter 24 Letting Go

Chapter 25 To the Moon and Back

Chapter 26 A Night at the Opera

Chapter 27 What Next!

Chapter 28 New Year’s Eve Celebrations

Chapter 29 A New Set of Wheels

Chapter 30 A Colourful Life

Chapter 31 First Time

Chapter 32 The Right Stuff

Chapter 33 Egypt 2020

Chapter 34 Egypt 2020

Chapter 35 Egypt 2020

Chapter 36 Death’s Door

Chapter 37 In Lockdown

Chapter 38 29.07.2020

In Remembrance

C.S. Lewis 1942

Foreword

Personal diaries, photograph albums and later 8mm, or better still super 8 or 9.5mm cine film, were particularly used throughout the UK as a means of recording memories of people, places, and events...

Get togethers organised by family and friends to get out the scrapbooks or show films of christenings, weddings, holidays, garden BBQs and other unforgettable activities, and all to an excited throng.

These have all been a tried and tested way of showing invited family or friends, and even more so following the invention of video recorders.

Modern mobile telephones have put a bit of a dampener on these of late, as everything has become all too easy to photograph, film, and post on social media for all to see, and of course place comments about them.

The world’s first photograph taken, or made, with the use of a camera, was back in 1826 by Frenchman, Joseph Nicephore Niepce, the quality of which would be scoffed at, by people using today’s mobile telephones, never mind quality made cameras.

Nevertheless, 1826 was the start of single image photography using a camera, although the required eight-hour exposure for a fuzzy picture has reduced somewhat in time, and quality has improved no end over the years.

The earliest films were of course in black and white and under a minute long, while a date for its start or invention, is a little ambiguous, but is thought to be around 1895.

The Lumiere brothers screened ten short films on December 28th,1895, which could be regarded as the breakthrough in the projection of silent motion pictures.

Cine film, or 8mm home motion format, was developed during the Great Depression in the USA, which began with the Wall Street crash in October 1929.

The Eastman/Kodak Company reduced the tape size from 32mm to 8mm, the first of which, including camera, was available on the open market for the making of home movies in 1932.

It was not until 1983 that Sony released its first consumer mobile recorder, or camcorder as it became commonly known.

Developed for home use, in a tape-based Betamax format, also in the same year, JVC also released its taped based version, using a VHS-C, or Video Home System.

An invention by Martin Cooper saw the first mobile phones appear with built in cameras, and publicly available in 2002... little did he know at that time what an amazing innovation this would turn out to be... or did he?...

The Nokia 7650 and Sanyo SPC-5300 phone, boasted a pixel colour display of size and quality that was outstanding at the time, except by today’s standards, would be ridiculously small and inferior...

Although, it is argued that Samsung Sharp built the very first real camera phone in the year 2000, and released in November of that same year, but only in Japan.

The very latest camera phones available, whether iPhone or Android smart phones, are state of the art, and a means of providing superb quality representations.

These images or videos can be stored on your phone, or perhaps printed and framed, or instantly transmitted digitally onto a variety of platforms, to almost anywhere in the world.

In addition, you can have an instant video link to actually see and talk face to face with friends or relatives throughout the world too.

We not only share our snapshots and short films with family and close friends, but now with the whole world, by uploading them onto various social media and networking services, like Facebook, or WhatsApp amongst many others.

Everyone has the ability to take snapshots or record anything, anywhere, anytime these days, bringing about the measured demise of the younger generation actually owning a camera or photograph album.

Of course, there are many other ways of remembering these times as well as photographs, for example, receiving a trophy or medal for achievements, gold, silver, or platinum disks, if in the music industry, or winning a certificate, or prize, and so on and so forth.

I have used all of these choices over the years, and even more, as the ability to save images and videos to my phone, iPad or laptop is now common practice.

I also like to print images that I think will look good framed, to perhaps place on the wall or on furniture and give as presents too...

Additionally, I have selected photographs taken of a specific subject, and used internet facilities to produce a pre-designed photograph album, as a keepsake of a distant event, or memory.

As an added bonus, I have chosen to write about these events too, my long-ago scrapbooks and videos, and times involving family and friends, all resurrected, and affectionately brought back to life.

Those significantly happy and sad thoughts of periods previously lost or unable to recall times, or bits and pieces that tend to happen, and for whatever reason, are now in the present...

My books, And then came Agadoo, ABRI My Oasis, Another day Another Time, and now, Afterwards, are an analysis of my life and moments in time for the reader to conjure up their own thoughts, and to perhaps use their imagination of these events as they unfold.

Maybe recall an occasion when you were in this very same position, and with me, possibly laugh and maybe cry at my work, and futile attempts of creating family harmony.

A biographical account of all those periods, a larger-than-life diary, a written record accomplishment of those times gone by, or in the present, as well as photographs that helps to bring my life and those of family and close friends into being.

Terry Dobson

Poem

Kathleen O’Mara – 1869

Reprinted during the Spanish Flu Pandemic 1919

And people stayed at home

And read books

And listened

And they rested

And did exercises

And made art and played

And learnt new ways of being

And stopped and listened more deeply

Someone meditated someone prayed

Someone met their shadow

And people began to think differently

And people healed

And in the absence of people who live in ignorant ways

Dangerous, meaningless, and heartless

The earth also began to heal

And when the danger ended, and people found themselves

They grieved for the dead

And made new choices

And dreamed of new visions

And created new ways of living

And completely healed the earth

Just as they were healed.

Poem

by Jilly L Bowling 2020

The job you hate…

Is the dream of every unemployed person.

Your house…

That you moan about cleaning,

Is the dream of every homeless person.

Your smile…

Is the dream of every depressed person.

Your good health…

Is the dream of every ill person.

Your lifestyle…

Is the dream of many people.

Do not let difficult times make you forget what you have.

You have so much more than most.

CHAPTER ONE

Sometime Afterwards

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2020 is a year that has seen a number of milestones reached and surpassed as far as the world we are now living in, and, as far as these stories of mine are concerned.

A year that was indeed full of expectations and plans, most of which have been dashed altogether, or others put on the back burner, so to speak, and quite possibly, some projects, deferred indefinitely.

I am sure I am not alone with these thoughts, as our country’s businesses and its core foundation will be too.

These are all probably on their knees by now, with mountainous economic repercussions, optimistically, our financial institutions, our banks, and a knock on the huge shiny black front door of number 10, will be there to help everyone out.

And help out they have, paying our nonessential workforce to stay at home, granting leave of absence, with a transitory Furlough scheme.

Paying 80% of wages, or up to £2500, per month, and also assisting self-employed and businesses too.

We have all had more time on our hands than ever before, Covid-19 made sure of that, most of us confined to our homes in a sort of unguarded isolation, a lockdown for over ten weeks, and still counting.

Our remarkable National Health Service has survived the onslaught of what some were saying would be an epidemic of immense proportions.

Had this been the case, our hospitals and temporary Nightingale hospitals would not have coped, but they have, and tremendously well, up to now.

However, recorded mortality numbers are over thirty thousand, so far, and day-to-day operations and referrals, have been virtually non-existent since the start of this epidemic.

So, and as the saying goes, I wonder, what on earth will be next?

I guess being able to getaway on my solo trip to Egypt, and return home safe prior to our country’s lockdown, is selfishly great for me to look back on.

As I am sure it is too, for other holiday makers, or travellers, that were able to return home from various destinations without having to be repatriated.

Our timing almost perfect, though more good luck than actual planning. Unfortunately, others were less privileged, stuck in holiday resorts and hotels waiting to receive information when they could be flown home…

I have made every attempt to keep myself busy during this period of quarantine, and if I could not think of anything to do, my partner Linda can muster up the smallest of things that will take utmost priority…

Our family vehicles parked on the drive and roadside, have been washed and wiped down numerous times, and still they get covered in dust, even though we are not going out in them.

Just using one car to pick up day to day items from our local shop, such as milk and bread, the odd bar of chocolate or bottle of wine…

When needing anything more, I am afraid we have to take a big breath, make up a flask and sandwiches, and head out to one of our many neighbouring supermarkets...

This maybe just a short trip in actual distance and time.

However, having to join a lengthy queue, on occasions hundreds of metres long, made even longer with social distancing rules, and eventually getting into the store to purchase whatever remains on the shelves of those essential items needed.

This usually trouble-free shopping excursion can now take every bit as long as it would for a trip out by car to an east coast resort.

Where we can sit on a bench eating delicious fish and chips, if not robbed by the hungry gulls, give our dogs a little freedom on the beach, and drive the seventy some miles all the way back home.

Those were the days, when we could make plans on a spur of the moment to do just that, and I am sure a situation that the rest of our small island, and our world’s population feel the same way about too.

Also, we have come to realise that ginnels, passages, and our miles of tarmac pavements, are nowhere near wide enough to accommodate foot traffic anymore.

Gateways and drives, grass verges and our highways as well, are now becoming a safe sanctuary while having to by-pass people when walking on our avenues and streets.

Social distancing to specific government guidelines taken to absolute extremes at times.

Our Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, is now virus free, and back at the helm of our country, this is after a period of self-isolating and in the end, being admitted to hospital, spending a week in intensive care.

The BBC news has now reported that in America the recent mortality statistics amount to 58,964, more than all American fatalities fighting in Vietnam between the years,1964-1975.

Bizarrely, to date, Vietnam has not reported one death as a direct result of developing the coronavirus.

Nevertheless, this rest of the world lockdown, is definitely working, as statistics are showing that fatalities are indeed declining.

Lots of indicators are pointing out that survivors of coronavirus, are now on a long road to making a full recovery.

While I am sure, not as fast as we all would like.

However, it is said by experts that with recovery, also comes immunity, as their blood has built up antibodies against the Covid-19 virus, however, they are not sure if it is permanent.

These people are being contacted with an expectation of being able to provide a possible treatment and resistance for others against catching it, or a cure for those who have symptoms.

Tests are in place for a simple pint of blood giving procedure, which will then result in an amount of convalescent plasma being extracted, containing the antibodies which can be given intravenously to our most vulnerable of patients.

There is lots of optimism in the medical field that it could work, and become an effective treatment, so there is a light afterall, not quite as bright, but a light that all be it, is close to the end of a miserably long and upsetting tunnel.

I am thinking this will be an excellent idea if it is proven to work and will reduce the Covid-19 infection rate.

The plasma will also provide an almost immediate solution, instead, we may expect to be waiting a considerable length of time for the production and testing of an astronomically costly oral or injection vaccine.

It is encouraging news, and I am confident that any of these solutions will offer some chance for our anxious population to come out of this lockdown, symptom, and virus free.

Unfortunately, at this time, my mum Jean, at almost eighty-nine years of age, and her partner Peter, nearly eighty, have both been diagnosed with this extraordinarily frightening, and somewhat selective Covid-19 virus, and are presently in hospital.

However, following extensive medical checks they appear to have been suffering with a mild form of the virus symptoms for quite a while.

Thankfully, they are both around the tail-end of making a full recovery, with Peter being discharged after only a few days, and mum being transferred to a local care facility for some much-needed respite and recuperation.

This is good news all around, nevertheless, a worrying few days where we have all been desperate for news, any news that could allay our worst fears.

Also, my stargazing companion, Amanda, her husband, Dave, and eldest daughter, Holly, have also been laid up with symptoms of this worrying and somewhat infectious virus.

However, after spending two weeks confined to their home in isolation, they are all thankfully on the mend.

On a much brighter note, this year has also brought about a number of milestones, key dates, and a time of year that for one reason or another are worth some reminiscence and retention.

It is ten years ago in this month of April, that I took over a limited tenancy/lease of a dilapidated single storey dwelling.

Leaving our home behind to concentrate on making this dwelling an amazing place to live, and optimistically, enjoy its remote location with all-round countryside views.

The bungalow located in the middle of a field on the outskirts of Wrenthorpe, and built by rhubarb growers, the McCauley family in 1957, even though it had remained empty for the previous four years.

That was until Liam and I came across it…

Unfortunately, this isolated bungalow had taken a bit of a beating during this lengthy time of being uninhabited, irresponsible vandalism and its huge overgrown and untidy garden was the least of many problems facing us.

Taking around six months of hard graft to make this four-bedroom, two-bathroom bungalow, a family home of some prominence once again.

Liam at seven years of age, also rolling up his sleeves and helping me out most evenings and weekends.

Local businesses and friends also chipped in, helping to make our Abri, our Oasis, a lovely place to live.

It was indeed an inspirational home, built in an ideal location, and contentedly living there, until sadly given notice to vacate it on 15th April 2015.

At this point, all the surrounding land and bungalow, was sold on by an agent acting on behalf of the McCauley family, for the current upsurge in residential expansion.

Regrettably, this involved the demolition of our rented bungalow, and the acres of previous farming land that surrounded it, cleared, and levelled, to allow the construction of over 88 houses and apartments.

This gives you an indication of size of the development, and where this somewhat solitary dwelling was originally located.

We have now been back in our initial home for the last five years and have made several alterations and worthwhile improvements to enjoy for our assured future.

This year also marks five years since my biological father Tom died, at a great age of 93, and remembering what would have been his 98th birthday just a few weeks ago.

Tom always used to say that he was nowhere near his ninety-three years of age, as he was actually born on Good Friday, which each year fluctuates according to when our Easter holidays are taken.

2020 will go down as an historic time when our world practically ground to a halt as a result of this pandemic, resulting in a tsunami of fatalities across the globe.

Lots of functions, sporting fixtures, musical events, birthdays, weddings, and celebrations of all kinds have had to be cancelled, weeks and months of preparations, not to mention the expense, all to no avail…

Another celebration, VE day, once again, cancelled, a commemoration that would have highlighted victory in Europe day.

A day when seventy-five years ago, six years of fighting in the second world war ended almost abruptly, while it was a further three months before a large number of our fighting forces were finally repatriated.

When our government give us the okay to reduce from a total lockdown, our world can finally begin to move forward and progress from our imposed seven weeks of self-discipline, a way of living that in our time we shall never forget.

Let us not overlook the VE day broadcast of Winston Churchill on this day 1945...

We may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing but let us not forget for a moment the toils and efforts that lay ahead.

A poignant reminder if our government fully removes the lockdown all too soon, and the implications of this that could descend on our NHS and other front-line services.

We should also remember that these following words also have a double meaning, as they too reflect on this 2020 global war we have all been fighting.

A conflict not contested on a battlefield, but in our own very personal way, in our own homes, in hospitals, visiting food stores and supermarkets, these buildings and facilities have become the combat zones of today…

Also, not forgetting our brave frontline workers who have given their all during this pandemic, as certainly things could have been far worse had they not buckled down too.

A great UK Team effort…

Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few.

Or, perhaps on a brighter, but more touching note, I should use the words of film producer Carl Denham (Jack Black) in the epic 2005 movie, King Kong…

Defeat is always momentary

CHAPTER TWO

Mister Stargazer?

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To think for years, I have always been inclined to look skywards, in fact, almost coming a cropper on numerous occasions, when before you know it, lampposts, telegraph poles, and tripping hazards appear from total obscurity...

Not letting black eyes or grazed knees put me off, I always take time to admire the many stars when they are visible in our region, which is less often than I would like.

However, while holidaying abroad, the skies appear to be always free from cloud, clear blue skies by day and immaculate pitch-black heavens by night.

While married to my third wife Jane, we had many a holiday in Turkey, residing in hotels as well as sailing on seas, cruising on the inner seas of the Aegean and Mediterranean, sunning ourselves in a much warmer climate throughout the day, and stargazing by night.

It was not our intention to pick a favourable position on our boats deck, just to look at millions of visible stars peering through inky black cloud-free skies to the earth below night after night, it was more of how they draw you in, enticing you into looking, saying, look at us, look at us!...

This must be one of the last totally free attractions, to be able to gaze into the depths of space at this wonderful eye-opening vision, an observation I feel you could never become bored of, to view the stars, infinity and beyond...

Our boat moored where light pollution is almost non-existent, just the eerie looking battery powered five-watt light bulbs on deck, rather than anchored in a bustling severely lit frenetic harbour for the night, we were secured in a sheltered sandy bay instead.

Although the cities of Bodrum, Marmaris, Fethiye, Icmela, Turgutreis and the many protected havens and refuges we visited over the years, they were still lovely places to be during our various boating style holidays.

These ships, known locally as Gullets, were certainly not classed as five-star accommodation, where suits, bowtie, and elegant gowns were the desired dress.

And all, while taking part in extravagant five-course dinners set in ultra-modern, multi-floor ocean liners of today…

No, more of a t-shirt, swimming shorts, bikinis, baseball caps, sunshades, and covered in copious amounts of a suntan, sort of dos.

The Gullets are built completely of wood and constructed to the highest of ocean-going standards.

However, the broad-spectrum of design does not boast massive cabins with a king and queen size beds, en-suite bathrooms with ample storage space for an abundance of glamorous garments, shoes, and jewellery.

Instead, cabins usually have at least a bed that may just about squeeze two adult people in, or two very narrow single beds, a dressing table of sorts with a few drawers, and a small-enclosed toilet area, also doubling as a shower room.

Bare feet are the order of the day on and below deck, as shoes, trainers or flip-flops are deposited in a trunk placed at the rear of the boat.

Furthermore, there are no hairdryers, tongs or other plug-in electrical items permitted on board, removing the need for time-consuming hairstyles and makeup, that time exchanged for eating, drinking, swimming, sunbathing, and general good times on deck or visiting the shore.

The atmosphere amazing as even our captain is involved in day-to-day meal preparation, feeding us homemade food to die for.

Deliveries of fresh daily baked bread, fish, meat and vegetables, watermelon and a variety of other fruits, the ship’s galley stocked up for dependable, continual nourishment.

A totally relaxing holiday, effortlessly sailing around the Mediterranean and Aegean seas, and amongst the many secluded idyllic bays along the west and south coast of Turkey, two weeks of unimaginable peace and tranquillity.

On the other hand, perhaps exploring is the order of the day, admiring the many ancient monuments or other well-trodden tourist sites, along with fellow boaties and vacationers, creating an extremely basic nonetheless incredible holiday experience.

Moreover, taking all of the above into consideration, these holidays are not necessarily low-priced or budget package holidays, on the contrary, but they are most certainly practical and a far healthier option to a hotel and poolside holidays.

During our first escape on one of these amazing floating compact guesthouses back in 1996, Jane and I met three middle-aged married couples from Liverpool, who were well accustomed to this type of holiday.

Remembering one of our stops in Bodrum, anchoring just offshore, and taking turns in a dinghy to get to the beach, our oars working overtime as we fought against the rather high waves, putting our backs and arms into getting us rapidly to the waiting sandy beach.

Exploration soon on all our minds as we took a bus to Turgutreis, seemingly a great holiday resort, as our new holiday acquaintances had been before, boasting a beautiful beach and shopping town about 10 miles from our anchored boat.

It just so happened that the 10th European Football Championships, or commonly referred to as Euro 96, was in full swing back home, running from the 8th to 30th June, and on this day, England was playing Germany in the Wembley semi-finals.

A repeat of the 1966 world cup final, and also a great opportunity for us chaps to find a bar with TV to watch the match, a few cold beers, unusually in my case definitely more than two…as a matter of fact, too many to remember.

All the women deciding to stick together, hitting the town’s markets and shops, watching football apparently not their cup of tea, preferring to browse or buy in a shopper’s paradise.

Of course, a good haggle and negotiation a necessity, to enable you to get the very best possible purchase price…

To be honest, the final score did not seem to matter that much, I was having so much fun listening to the Liverpudlian dialect, umpteen one-liner jokes and adverse banter, mainly about the German team and how they were playing.

The incredible heat, amazing company, plenty of ice-cold beers, and the excitement of events unfolding made for a special afternoon, I had been thoroughly entertained, so much so my tummy ached with laughter.

Almost hoarse with shouting and cheering after Alan Shearer scored a brilliant third-minute header, Terry Venables’ three lions seemed to be invincible, only to be back to the starting point when Germany equalized after fifteen minutes.

Unfortunately, too much alcohol, heat, excitement, and laughter did not bode very well with me, as amid the constant hullabaloo I fell in a deep slumber, sort of crouched over, my head resting on my arms placed on the bar’s table...

When I did finally wake and eventually reach a more sobered intelligible state, it did hit home that we had in fact lost the game.

Recalling the 1–1 score line, which remained even after extra time, while a Gary Lineker goalmouth cross almost giving Paul Gascoigne a golden goal …?

All was decided on penalties, Gareth Southgate had his spot kick saved, allowing Andreas Möller to score the winning goal, 6-5 the final score, I was extremely disappointed, and so much for the excuse of exploration.

We did embark on further boating holidays in the same region following this remarkable fourteen-day experience, and we still keep in touch to this day with our Liverpool friends, though sadly one of the couples, Harry, and Sheila, have recently died, devoted to the end.

I do go off at a tangent…

The effects of an artificially well-lit night sky are disruptive to wildlife and tree growth, as light pollution is rated quite high, with over 80% of the world’s population suffering from the most pervasive forms of environmental alteration.

As far as my hometown of Wakefield is concerned, we do not rate exceedingly high in the dark skies charter, in fact, our city does not feature at all as a dark sky more of a Blackpool illuminated marque of a city.

Light pollution is a generic term, which refers to artificial light from whatever electrical or battery powered source that shines where it is neither wanted nor needed and measured in Nano Watts.

The dark sky areas identified in the UK measure a fantastic 0.25nw, while a top of the scale, 32nw is currently the brightest, and low and behold, Wakefield city and the immediate surrounding areas fit snuggly into this uppermost category.

The dark sky areas listed below are perfect locations to view stars, planets and other deep-sky objects, as they should be seen, by either using the naked eye, preferred binoculars or a transportable telescope, or two, or more, in locations I shall have to arrange to visit at some point in my life.

• Galloway Forest

• Exmoor Island

• Sark Island

• Northumberland Sky Park

• Brecon Beacons Reserve

• Coll Island

• Snowdonia Reserve

• Elan Valley Park

In addition, the further north you travel the more likely you are of seeing the Aurora Borealis, commonly known as Northern Lights, another desire of mine, but of course also dependent on decent weather.

I have always said that my preferred destination for stargazing would be a much warmer climate, to be able to dress in a sleeveless t-shirt, shorts, trainers, or flip-flops to view these celestial wonders.

However, I doubt any of the above locations would lend themselves to this attire.

Sadly, another aspiration of mine that may never fully come to fruition; instead, it will be our usual quality thermals, under layers and layers of clothing, hats, coats, scarves, and gloves.

While saying that, I have had quite a few warmish evenings, perched on the elevated patio area in our back garden, at our former home on The Mount, armed with trusty binoculars, where I managed to appreciate my preoccupation by way of a limited choice of clothing, but of course remaining entirely decent at all times…

However, I am of the opinion it should be a joint experience, rather than a lonely unaccompanied one, a minimum of at least two like-minded people.

Someone close by to share excitement, experience, and knowledge, to pass comment, to suggest possible viewing coordinates, and to discuss our passion or obsession.

The Rosse Observatory provides all of the above, and even more, on the other hand, it is not always practical, as the observatory only opens on Tuesdays and Fridays, and our English weather is, unfortunately, not as organized, or predictive.

Nevertheless, not all is lost; as I have a perfect stargazing companion to share all of those endearing qualities with, and her family home is only a short distance from our house...

While waiting for our children at the Manygates café, a number of regular parents began by discussing our musical passion, and those of our children, realizing, and not before time, that two of us had stargazing as an interest too.

Our tête-à-têtes becoming more frequent about space missions, stars, planets, constellations and deep sky objects over a coffee cake or scone, while in the café, music, fast becoming a secondary conversation, although the reason we were brought together in the first place...

Our children are amazingly talented kids for their ages and can boast they play their respective instruments in numerous far-a-field towns and cities.

London, Birmingham, Leeds, and Sheffield to name but a few, and in prestigious auditoriums, such as our capital’s Royal Albert Hall, Wakefield’s own Theatre Royal and impressive historic Cathedral, with drums and percussion tutored to a notable high standard, by Rhodri Younger.

It was during one of our over coffee get-togethers, that we decided to take our fascination one enormous step further, to become paid-up members of an observatory, the closest, and ironically most appealing, being the Rosse Observatory, located in Carlton, Pontefract.

Our first visit could not have been better, Amanda making our Friday night appointment in September with Pam, a very cold but clear sky awaited, with fellow stargazers in abundance…

We fitted in perfectly and loved our first night experience of star exploration in the observatory’s dome and getting on very well with all like-minded astronomers who were there.

Outside on the concrete pad at the Rosse Observatory can be both a chilly and enlightening experience.

The cold winter air biting your whole body, freezing to the touch, no matter how many coverings of clothing worn, nevertheless, gazing into the dark night sky does make it all worthwhile.

Our children’s music and other family commitments prevented us from attending every Tuesday and Friday in the first instance, but we soon settled into appearing on most Friday night sessions.

Watching related documentaries on overcast cloudy or rainy nights, stargazing on the pad or in the dome on clear and many improved nights, swapping ideas and gathering the information you probably would not find in published astronomical literature.

Not forgetting an initial surprise fish and chip supper, a gathering we had also come to enjoy, bread cakes, pickled onions, and other condiments, all adding to the exquisite quality and flavours.

We even attended a prearranged astronomy night at Frickley Athletic Football stadium, aimed at bringing families together to enjoy stargazing.

To understand our galaxy and also looking at a variety of telescopes and other apparatus that the observatory members had brought along, although the weather was not particularly kind to us on this night.

Cloud and persistent drizzly rain putting a dampener on planned external events, everyone remaining indoors, instead, we did offer our help and assist children with the making, decorating and eventual launching of pressurized water propelled cardboard and paper skyrockets...

I have to say, Amanda and I were predictably very good at this, our Blue Peter double sided sticky tape and glue skills coming to the fore, obviously aspiring to become junior reproductions of Valerie Singleton and John Noakes, or maybe just on my part, the famous Wernher Von Braun.

Wernher was an accomplished aerospace engineer and leading figure of the development of Germany’s rocket technology during WW2, who would later become the driving force behind NASA, up to and beyond the eventual 1969 - 1972 moon landings, until his death from cancer in 1977.

All our water-propelled rockets did not quite reach the incredible heights of a Saturn 5 rocket, nevertheless, all achieving a reasonable vertical trajectory.

Some of the children’s rockets actually attaining an altitude much higher than the stadium buildings, illuminated by attached L.E.D. lights on their upward journey, and as they plummeted to the dark soddened playing fields below, making them easy to find and retrieve.

All the children, parents and observatory personnel loved the whole evening, regardless of the unceasing drizzly weather.

Our own rear garden wakes also becoming the norm, working alongside our illustrious TV and radio weather forecasters to ensure cloud and rain-free evenings, which are necessary for an uninterrupted maximum viewing experience.

The sky is the limit, very much a fact, vast uninterrupted areas of our universe to observe, our planetary solar system full of stars, millions of them to locate and view.

On the other hand, where is all this all leading, staying local, or looking further afield, to travel to darker unpolluted pitch-black skies, so both of us can see everything that we can, to map and record what we are viewing and want to find and what will we perhaps do together in the future.

Whatever happens, the stars above us will remain, there for everyone to see, to wonder in amazement, just like Amanda and I are doing, a start, yes, and we are not on our own, thousands just like us, peering into the night sky at every given opportunity.

Is it the inky blackness, the stars, planets, and constellations, or the many orbital satellites, which is the attraction, our desperate need to see and understand other objects, moving objects, balloons, airplanes, or perhaps what we would like to think as being UFOs, or anything that may draw our eyes up to the heavens.

To gaze in awe at what is fast becoming our recognized heaven, our universe