Maurice's Blog

Last Monday in the Royal Courts of Justice the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons won the case having prevented me from going before the jury of the college in an application to 'practice veterinary surgery'. The chairman alone stated, in effect, if I accept the college and South Wales Police did no wrong I can go before the disciplinary committee with my application to work. Without that public apology you get nothing. Brian Jennings, Privy Council agent, failed to refer to the fact Her Majesty's Privy Council has the power under the 1966 Act to intervene when immunity to prosecution, under the college's Royal Charter, appears to be 'excessive' but I am not holding my breath.

Leaving the special aroma of that court building and with the judgment of Mr Justice Lloyd Jones still ringing in my ears, yet another Welshman, incidentally, refusing the right of a jury [ Lord Justice Thomas had only lately refused me a jury to sit on the 15 year running case of police harassment in Old South Wales] I recieve a missive from New South Wales. Dear John Wilson, the Aussie exponent of jury trials, is sending me a T-shirt suitably worded !

Now Magna Carter Day, the almost origin of a jury concept, was on Sunday and demonstration in Whitehall on the 22nd July is taking a bus load of supporters from Cardiff wearing, I hope, John's T-Shirt.

Monday also had me in Kingsway, around the corner at CAA House, badgering the legal department on the 'facts', relied on from the US, that caused them to have my 'wings clipped', while I  struggle with the french language to obtain a Gallic 'brevet de pilotage'. The Emergency Judicial Review lodged against the CAA will, no doubt, be shredded by now.

Monday night is part spent having a chinese supper with Alex, youngest son at Uni, on the River Thames in Kingston, before bedding down on a bench at Heathrow for 8 am flight to Detroit, the home of 'Motown' music.

Tuesday was fascinating ....watching the huge Department of Homeland Security sausage machine again at work exporting vistors from the US, except with me, apparently, irrespective of cost, rhyme nor reason. All worth it though for the interrogation by Angel, a vivacious afro-caribbean, suggesting to me the 'need to know basis', no 'audit trail' and 'the system' of visa disposal having a whole new meaning to a very naive Englishman. The UK should consider their system and save the tax payer a fortune.

Wednesday back at the Royal Courts of Justice to lodge the appeal from the RCVS nonsense and u tube video, for the lazy reader! Itseems to me, looking at more leaked memos it is rare for any file, lodged, to be opened, yet alone read in that building!

 Wednesday night by train and  home to St Donats and Genevieve is out on her new pony. Must get Baldrick in, tack up and slim down [the horse] for the fox hunting this Autumn. If I cannot fly in UK Airspace and have to fight the CAA again through the courts for the next two years I might as well hunt, buy a bigger bike and write to Mr Bush, before he leaves office, for the  'US Presidential Pardon'.

Meanwhile, the US cub is patiently waiting, hidden away in a small strip in Texas, for that dash across the Rio Grande to South America and the Falklands  as my  french 1943 L4 cub is about to leave the nest in Hampshire and my UK 1943 L4 cub is hidden in the West country, without Kirstie knowing, awaiting the outcome of the CAA's deliberations as to whether her UK registration is to be changed to a  Z- , may be, or an F-  to assist my circumnavigation of  Africa on a foriegn licence or not?

I have to go to London on Monday to argue my corner as to how the RCVS have hurriedly pushed through legislation in the 20.7 rule of the 2004 Court Procedures to prevent me ever practicing again as a veterinary surgeon. I need to lodge it at the Court of Appeal after the hearing but need to know just how to do it?

I have to walk round the corner to Kingsway and CAA House for, what I hope will be, a cosy chat with their legal department on outstanding matters..

I also have to find out why the Royal Courts are sitting on my Emergency Application against the Civil Aviation Authority preventing me to fly on to Africa next month in my 1943 WW2 Piper Cub? President Bush's men confirmed I committed no aviation offence when I landed in a farmer's field 5 miles from his Texan Ranch but the CAA cannot get, it appears, CIA, FBI, Secret Service, FAA, DHS, ICE, State Police or a few other organisations to confirm my belief mainly because the United States avoids any paper trail of custody records of a prisoner when ever possible unlike the UK. My unlawful detention in Houston Prison and Texas's State Lunatic Asylum is 'small beer' compared to the relevance of malfeasance of UK Government Departments  exposed in the court papers for Monday .

Lunch is on me. 

I then need to stroll down to the House of Lords in the afternoon to find out procedure to overturn the judgment by Lord justice Thomas refusing me a lawyer to act on my behalf and my legal right a jury for my harassment case against the South Wales police, the original complainants to get me struck off.

Tuesday may be a lot more fun, again exposing what the media refuse to print..... the real state of our judiciary      See downloads 

Well, that is the way to get rid of any suggestion of depression and blow away, temporarilly, the stench of the British legal system.

I left the cottage in Brittany, now fit for letting, after a huge 10 Euro lunch and was down by the Spanish border in no time. Difficult to light a cigar on the bike though.

Flew past Chateau Buzet, one of my favourite wines, just outside Bordeaux and due today to speak again to the flying club here to obtain a french licence before looking around my favourite rose, with a hint of retsina sap, near  Banyuls Sur Mer.

Last night over an idylic plate of moules fricas? with an amazing cream sauce, browned under the grill, I met Bud Froelick from Houston, Texas! What a laugh an a joke we had till the small hours while he explained the US psyche with respects to the world out there beyond their borders. Taught me a bit of french to having had a cottage for some years now in the foot hills of the Pyrenees. Off now to find a Pied de Terre? for my arthritic winter months writing up my experiences under the thoroughly deceitful and asinine British Judicial System.

Just landed at St Malo harbour, Brittany, from Portsmouth on my Honda CBR 1000F to find my old car in the car park has disappeared. The French Authorities tolerate we local English leaving ‘old bangers' at the Ferry Terminal but not for this long!

My un-planned extended stay in Texas, at ‘Uncle Sam's Pleasure', has lost me not just my flying licence, but now my cut away speed model Ford Orion motor car. Talking of the CAA they have sent me some more ‘official info' from the US that reads like an Enyd Blyton children's book. Apparently it states I radioed McGregor Airport with some nonsense message about visiting a Mr Bush by aircraft. No such thing ever happened as the US Authorities very well know having all the evidence to suggest no transmission was ever made, whether by VHF Radio or ‘C' mode Transponder, while I was flying around Texas. As for the GPS they took off me and will not return, that stayed in my kit bag switched off all the way to Crawford.

I also now have a document quoting the McClellan County Police that I was 'not arrested' at the scene nor had I committed any civil or criminal offence. As I said to the boss of the legal department of Air Crew Licencing, in London, "If I had been in charge of air safety anywhere in the world with the information just sent across the ‘pond' from the US I would have marched the culprit pilot directly to Broadmoor (the UK's secure mental hospital) and thrown away the key".

Anyway it may take me years to fight through the courts so here I am looking frantically for a French ‘abinitio' pilot's licence pretty damn quick but where do I learn to fly French style and learn the lingo? Thierry of Air Journey has already found me a friend, François SIEGEL in Paris to possibly expedite the problem.

This old motor bike, resting in the long grass, once our front lawn, is supposed to get me to the South of France tomorrow but am I not getting a bit too arthritic for just a lumpy beast? As I mount her it reminds me of the French aristocracy being winched on to their jousting horses in their heavy suits of armour for the battle of Agincourt!