Nominet UK sent me an email today asking me to complete a survey as a person who has just renewed a *.uk domain (I can’t remember which one it would be!)

In the email, they say they look after 6 million UK domain names.

That suggests there’s a .uk domain for every 10 people who live in the UK, assuming the population is still roughly 60 million.

Fascinating.

I have way more than my fair share of domains, but then practically no-one else I know has one at all, so it all evens out.

Well, choir week is over for another year. This year was as good as any I’ve been on, and certainly felt very different, being on home turf in Hereford.

I’m pleased to say the clergy and staff at Hereford have been the most welcoming of any cathedral we’ve been to. It may be because whilst some cathedrals and chapels have more visiting choirs than they really know what to do with, Hereford seems to find itself bereft of singers for long stretches at a time. Next week, they have no choir at all, and they will be having their main service said next Sunday. So when choirs do arrive, they are welcomed with open arms, invitations to sherry in the Precentor’s lovely garden and fed tea and biscuits after their rehearsals.

And whilst many cathedrals have invited us back to spend more time with them, Hereford is the first to do so during choral evensong itself!

Being in Hereford meant staying with my parents was most economical. The constraint of catching the last train home meant I drank less and slept more than in some previous years, but it is still somehow very tiring to spend seven days concentrating on singing and standing up for long stretches of time. I must definitely get fitter!

And once again I am better acquainted with my singing voice. I no longer sing at all between annual choir weeks, which mean my voice needs exercise, and going from nothing to singing for 6 hours a day every day is a strain. It’s strange how day to day, my range changes. At the fullest I can get from F above middle C to C two below in my main voice, and get much higher in falsetto. But by the time evensong comes around, many of the extreme notes will be missing, and I have to be careful not to crack in exposed places. So much singing with so little preparation is actually painful, and at the end of it, my speaking voice sounds raw. And I have a nasty feeling of dangling things hanging around my tonsils that I can hear vibrate when I sing. Urgh.
It’s also amazing what being surrounded by really good singers can do. This year, I was propped up by a bass with perfect pitch who could come in reliably and find weird notes with no problem. I’m not an excellent singer, in that I can’t hold a part entirely on my own, but near people who are, I can be a very useful additive volume.

We’ve had our share of odd bible readings this week at evensong. We’ve had a full set of readings about King David, from being chosen, to beating Goliath, to leading the Jews. Who knew that David had a ruddy face and beautiful eyes? (1 Samuel 16 v 12). By the end of the week, we had David meeting Jonathan, and having their souls bound together (1 Samuel 18). We also got a particularly steamy passage from the Song of Soloman.

And of course we found ourselves chanting very odd phrases from the psalms:

• He hath no pleasure in the strength of an horse : neither delighteth he in any man’s legs.
• Deliver me from the hand of strange children
• I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.

Etc, etc.  There’s never any shortage of strange passages to sing.

A fair amount of time has now elapsed since returning from my hols, but I’ve only more recently finished uploading all my photos to Flickr, so now a quick post on what we did.

We spent a week in and near Lake Geneva and the Alps, on the Swiss/French border. We flew into Geneva, and rented a tiny little blue Daihatsu Sirion that just about managed to fit our luggage in.

I was driving – my first time in a LHD car. Got used to it really quickly with one exception – I just couldn’t remember to put the handbrake on when I stopped. Car coped with the mountains with no problem, but had a really nasty gear box.

We were very fortunate to have friends in the area who let us stay with them, so we got away with just two hotel stays in the whole week. The first was on our first night, when we stayed at the Hotel “les Cygnes”, in Evian (where the bottled water comes from). The room was lovely, with a small balcony opening right onto Lake Geneva. After dark, we could see the distant lights of Lausanne on the far side of the lake. I didn’t take any good daylight photos. By the following morning, a mist had fallen, and you could barely see a thing.

Whilst at the hotel, we ate in their restaurant, and had one of the best meals we’ve ever eaten. We started out on the terrasse overlooking the lake, but the weather changed during the evening, with wind and rain eventually blowing in hard enough to get us wet and nearly tear the awning off the side of the hotel. I had: chilled red pepper velouté; bunny terrine; a lamb main course and a very light coffee mousse to finish. A bottle of Hautes Cotes de Beaune went very nicely with it.

The following morning, we rose late (too late for the buffet breakfast, but they kindly made us a tray with coffee, croissants) explored Evian briefly on foot, taking in the Palais du Lumiere and the a touristy mini-museum dedicated to the bottled water. There’s also an umimpressive mini-fountain where the spring water flows freely, and you can fill your own bottles. It was quite hard to get pictures because of all the locals refilling dozens of bottles they’d brought with them.

After a British picnic (one eaten in the car in the rain overlooking the sea / lake) we drove inland from Evian up through mountains towards Morzine, a French ski resort town.  We were meeting my friend A whose ski apartment we were borrowing for a few nights – but we were going to arrive long before she finished work, so we stopped off en route to see Les Gorges du Diable, a walk along steel pathways down into a very deep gorge carved by a river and meltwater.  All around were signs warning that higher up the stream, there was a hydroelectic dam installation.  Water levels can rise suddenly and without warning – even in times of drought.  Access to the river strictly forbidden!

Eventually we arrived in Morzine, which for a town in the mountains had a strange feel of the wild west about it – lots of wide streets and wooden buildings.  Many of the buildings were pretty chalets; but many just looked like they should have had sheriffs and gunslingers in them.  V strange.  We met up with A, and saw the huge chalet she manages with the help of a staff of 16.  Nosed around a bit whilst she finished her working day – v impressed by the small kitchen, and the instructions for the chef that said for €7pppn, chef had to provide four meals (mini cooked breakfast, full lunch, afternoon tea and 3 course evening meal).  These skiers clearly like to eat!

From there to A’s chalet, which she’s in the process of doing up with her other half – which had some frightening original features – and from there to the well appointed duplex apartment much higher in the mountains where we were staying.

I should point out at some point that this is probably the last joint mountain holiday we will ever have. P is not keen on heights one bit, and much of the windy roads (which I find exhilarating) scare him witless.  The road up to the apartment was one such.  He had to enjoy the view from the balcony from safely inside the French doors.

(… to be continued…)

I’m getting ready for our choir week, which will be in Hereford this year. I’ll be staying with my parents in Leominster and commuting into the city every day. From Monday, we’ll be singing Evensong every day. Our music list is now here on the Cathedral’s website.

Greatly looking forward to the week. The music will be a real challenge this year as much of it is new to me. There are at least six pieces of music on the list that I have never sung or heard before – maybe even more. I don’t even know Monday night’s music, so it’s going to be a steep learning curve on the first day alone!

At the end of last year, I took the cassock home so that I could clean it (after five years of singing in it on hot summer days it didn’t smell good) and so that I could move the buttons around.

I’ve changed shape since I first started using it, and it no longer fitted very well after last year’s week. Happily there’s loads of spare material in a cassock, so just repositioning the buttons means it fits again.