Aujord'hui ma machine de café est mort.

Aujord'hui ma machine de café est mort. And it's a sad, sad day. So many cappucinos, so few years. Although to be fair, it was my brother's originally, and I've now had it at least four years, so i shouldn't complain. The worst part of it, though, is that it's only died through neglect. I just didn't even consider the fact that limescale would build up inside and ruin it like any good kettle. And now I find that there's a descaler solution that you should run through these machines every few months...

I even became a maintenance man, and in the true spirit of allotmenteering, unscrewed it all and sat each piece in coca cola for hours in the vain hope that some of the blocked tubes might be cleaned. But it just made the matter worse, as I think it shifted a load of gunk and doubled the blockage somewhere in its bowels. I can still froth milk happily enough, but it's no replacement...

Oh woe is me...

The Gotheborg

Last week I left the comfort of the Sprouts plot to see the Swedish ship Gotheborg, a recreation of the 18th century East Indiaman sailing ship. It was incredible, and looked thoroughly out of place amongst the modern, soulless grandeur of Canary Wharf. You don't see things of such handmade beauty very often these days - and with the potential to sail without any power source whatsoever other than the wind.

It has an engine - to conform to modern safety regulations – but how long will it be before we have to start sailing in ships like this once more? With the oncoming shortage of natural resources, they might have to make a comeback... I hope so.