BBC Archive: The Four Steamers

Some great steam railway films in the BBC archive: BBC - Archive - Steam Trains - Time Out | The Four Steamers

History Hunters

History Hunters was a spin-off from the successful Channel 4 series Time Team. Channel 4 deleted the original site some years ago - all that's left is this summary page - but luckily I found the archive on an old CD-rom (that hadn't rotted) and decided to preserve it for posterity.

It was a sort of local history/geneaology programme in which two teams competed with each other to solve a mystery! The pilot episode was at Marshfield and at that time the proposed series was called Hands on History, later changed to Time Team Roadshow. It was my first experience of telly and it was very daunting, as presenter Tony Robinson would often cut to me pretending to type on my computer! (I sussed pretty soon that as it wasn't going out live, I didn't actually need to do any work on site, apart from scan images that wouldn't be available to me later - all the coding was done later at home.) The scanner and other stuff was usually transported by writer Nancy Duin in her car. Digital photographer was Simon Williams. For Marshfield, I hired a Mac laptop for the weekend at great expense - for later episodes I bought a G3 Wallstreet for just over £3,000. It was all great fun and should have gone to a second series, but it went out at a bad time on Saturday afternoon instead of the better Time Team Sunday slot.

I also worked on all the annual episodes of Time Team Live except the very first one, from August 1998 at King's Lynne until 2001, but that's another story. I also visited sundry regular Time Team digs (when it was still trendy to have a webmaster tapping away in the background) and worked on Tim Taylor's own Teamsite, which has also disappeared from the internet.

So, dive in - and enjoy! It's exactly as it was - tho it was designed to fit into a Channel 4 template - and some things may not work!

New Forest cycling weekend

Well, I won't say it wasn't hard, but it was! I'm not getting any younger and the New Forest seemed much hotter and hillier than it was last time I cycled here, back in 2005. Also the YHA experience was not great: 10 bunks full of snoring ramblers in a room, undressing in the dark and nowhere but the floor to dump your clobber! The breakfasts were fine however, and there was never any congestion in the showers or loos. I can honestly predict however, that it'll be a B&B next time and sod the kid's inheritance! Old Guildford girlfriend Jenny (I've known her since she was just 17) wrote a good account on the Clarion website and there are tons of photos on Flickr. Luckily I got a lift back to Brighton in Annie's Romahome, so avoided all the problems on the railways - and an unwanted trip to Clapham Junction. Anyway, 'Fellowship is life' as we say in the Clarion - I had a great time with some very dear friends - and some good beer and food too - and saw plenty of wildlife. Now looking forward to a quiet Easter to recuperate.

Birmingham & Pre-Raphaelite drawings

En route for the NUJ DM in Southport, where I was to be a first-time delegate, I broke the journey in Birmingham to see The Poetry of Drawing: Pre-Raphaelite designs, studies and watercolours at the Art gallery. It was a fabulous exhibition comprising sketches and drawings, along with the paintings they were the studies for, from their student life drawings from casts at the Royal Academy Schools and drawings by their mentor Ford Madox Brown, through their entire careers and into the drawings of followers such as Frederick Sandys, Aubrey Beardsley and Eleanor Fortescue-Brickdale. There was also a whole bay of textile designs, stained glass and ceramics by designers such as William Morris, William de Morgan and Florence Camm. But it was the Big Three - Rossetti, Holman-Hunt and Millais - I'd come to see and I wasn't disappointed. I particularly liked the cartoons and caricatures, such as Dante Gabriel Rossetti's scratchy pen drawing of Christina Rossetti in a tantrum (1862). Cost me a fiver to get in, and was well worth it. It's on until 15 May, then moves to Sydney.

Birmingham Art Gallery also has a fantastic permanent collection of Pre-Raphaelite art, including some chairs designed by William Holman-Hunt and the world's largest watercolour, by Edward Burne-Jones. The cafe gives a discount if you show them your ticket, but be warned they have those irritating stainless-steel teapots that dribble all over the place. That night I searched for the Balti Triangle (nobody in Brum seemed to know where it was) but eventually stumbled on Al Frash in Ladypool Road where I had a mixed-veg balti for £5.50. I really didn't need the rice and (small!) naan! A pint at the Briar Rose (a Burne-Jones connection) Wetherspoons round the corner from the hotel finished off the night nicely.

I stayed at the Premier Inn on Waterloo Street, which was really handy for New Street station and the art gallery and well recommended. On Thursday 7 April, I jumped on a 101 bus to the Jewellery Quarter to see the Pen Museum. I was a bit early so walked to the Museum of the Jewellery Quarter, passing Gillott's Victoria Works (I learnt later that the G in Gillott is a soft J, like in Gillette), where my favourite 303 nib was once made, the factory of Thomas Fattorini, where enamel badges are still made, and a cast-iron 'Temple of Relief' by the station, sadly not in use!

The Jewelley Quarter Museum is the old works of gold bangle makers Smith and Pepper - a time capsule that closed in the 1980s, full of old machinery and dies that would give a factory health and safety inspector nightmares. Cost £5.50 for the guided tour and well worth it. There's a nice cafe too. Back at the Pen Room (I prefer Pen Museum), I joined a party being shown round, not just the front rooms, but another large room crammed full of nibs and fountain pens at the back. There's such a lot of stuff to see. We were shown how a Mitchell's nib was made in stages, and all encouraged to have a go. It's housed in what was once the factory of pen maker W E Wiley, now the Argent Centre, who used the steam from the factory boilers to heat a Turkish Baths - an early example of combined heat and power! Time was up - no chance to see Moor Street Station or Thinktank...

Southport is a very strange place, where it seems impossible to see the sea. The waitress at the Leicester Hotel said to see the sea in Southport you have to go to Blackpool. The trip from Liverpool to S'port was interrupted by vandals putting something on the line between Waterloo and Crosby. The train was full of tipsy scantily clad orange ladies who were presumably returning from a day at Aintree. The DM was quite hard work, with early starts and long days, in a 1930s Floral Hall that had been encapsulated into a modern (not Modernist!) complex - but it was scorching outside. My account of proceedings is here. I didn't manage to get to see the Lawnmower Museum, nor ride to the end of the pier, and the Art Gallery was closed for two years, but I did see some interesting buildings and sample some real ale and we were well looked after at the Conference. Now it's a few days respite until the BiG outing to Pallant House on Wednesday and the Clarion New Forest excursion this Friday!

The Poetry of Drawing

The Poetry of Drawing, Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery, review - Telegraph: excellent review from the Torygraph of the exhibition i shall be visiting on Wednesday.

6023 - King Edward II

Was never ever really fussed by GWR locos, what with their lack of Pacifics and all those twiddly brass bits, but the newly restored 6023 King Edward II is surely sex on wheels! A visit to Didcot is in order...

Brighton nudes are Britain's best

In a quiet corner of Bury Fair, back in the very early 1960s, amongst the more spectator-oriented attractions such as the Wall of Death, freak shows and boxing ring, was the Nude Show. For sixpence you got a few minutes in a tent listening to a foul-mouthed comedian introduce various tableaux of naked ladies (well, maybe there was just the one) striking artistic poses, standing absolutely still when the curtain opened. It was more than a poor boy could take, being brought up on glimpses of topless native women in National Geographic magazine or maybe a sneaky playground peek at the mummsy airbrushed photos in Spick or Span. It was how I imagined the Windmill Theatre was, before the Lord Chamberlain allowed nudes to move on stage. It was some time (1968) before I again saw a naked woman, at a life drawing class in Battersea.

So to last night's Still Life at the tiny Marlborough Theatre. Five 'stunners', as Dante Gabriel Rossetti called his models, presented re-enactments of famous paintings and photographs, from the Rokeby Venus (modelled by Francesca Cluney with Emma Sandham-Kings as Cupid) to Man Ray's Le Violon d'Ingres, with Kiki played by the multi-talented Kate Shields, who also played the saw whilst posing! Johanna Samuelson did Otto Dix's Sylvia von Harden, and Lucy Potts modelled as well, in Egon Schiele's Wally in red blouse. They were accompanied by a cute cellist and virtuoso pianist, recorded jazz and projections, and Francesca Cluney also did a beautiful Loie Fuller butterfly dance. On the door and by the side of the stage throughout were two delightful Pierettes and the whole evening was compered by the deadpan gorgeous Rosey Carrick, who joined in with the finale pose. Oh, and there was a performance poet, Dolores Luxedo (bloke), who knocked over my drink, but as I got accused of spilling a woman's drink at The Governess presents last week, I guess we're karma quits!

The night before I'd been privileged to attend the premiere of Beach Party Animal, directed by Joe Murray and Liz Aggiss. Joe, assisted by Max and Wolfie, put on an exemplary PV, with drinks carefully tailored to each guest (mine was a Bath Ales Dark Side), with a child's portion of fish and chips thown in! There were three performances of this beautifully paced 20-minute film that night - each audience (which included such Brighton faces as Louise Rennison and Tony Haas) got the same star treatment and (I heard later) each got rowdier as the night progressed. This too included nudity, but not the Two Wrongies, who managed to keep their clothes on for once. No, it was the naked arse of author and actor Tim Crouch, running into the English Channel for his all-weather morning dip!

It's events like these that make you glad to be alive and living in Brighton, the best of all possible towns. No moaning today...

Bluebell, Clarion and The Unthanks

 P-class 0-6-0T No. 178

Yeh, I know, I haven't had a good old moan on here for a while, but we'll put that right a little later. On Sunday I visited the Bluebell Railway with the Clarion cycling club. It was a world-record turn-out of 20 riders. This usually causes problems on British Rail, but this time we also fell foul of jobsworths on the Bluebell. The uniformed man at Kingscote said only five bikes could travel in the guard's van, and also made a song and dance about our bringing the bikes through the booking office, - with the possibility of scratching the paintwork maybe? Any road up, we managed to get Nick on board (that made six) and the rest of them cycled to Sheffield Park. There was ample room in the guard's van and at £8.50 a ticket they were effectively tuning away £120 of badly needed revenue.

The 'cushy six' were hauled from Kingscote to Sheffield Park by South Eastern & Chatham Railway P-class 0-6-0T No. 178, built in 1910. The other loco on duty was Brighton-built London Brighton & South Coast Railway Class E4 0-6-2T No. 473 Birch Grove in Southern green livery. Then it was into the buffet for a pint of Harvey's and some food. I had an egg and cress sandwich and a bowl of chips, but there wasn't much for veggies (some dried up macaroni cheese) and the rest of the dishes on offer did look a bit institutional, with overcooked cabbage and carrots. Eventually, after an ardous ride over the High Weald, the rest joined us, but we were way behing schedule. I was going to Bexhill that night to see The Unthanks, and my old Guildford chum Sev was picking me up at 6pm. It was a long hard slog back to Haywards Heath and I was completely knackered.

I got home just on the dot of six and Sev arrived a minute or two later and off we set. Now here's the moan you've been waiting for! The De La Warr Pavilion is a fantastic venue, both outside and in, but... a 500ml bottle of Harvey's Blue Label (retail price about 2 quid) cost... wait for it... £4.85! Anyway, I had a front row seat, the support band The Trembling Bells, were OK, but here comes another moan: the gift shop and art gallery were closed by the time the 30-minute interval came along! The Unthanks were sublime, even though Rachel didn't do any clog dancing cos she was with child. She didn't say 'snow' either. They had a string quartet, trumpet, piano, bass and drums, with some uke and saw action along the way. The only downer was that the last train to Brighton had been cancelled so they had to rush along to get it all in. I had a lift home though and slept really well that night.

Previous visits to the Bluebell:

• 22 November 2010
• 16 November 2009
• 25 October 2009
• 19 October 2008
• 12 November 2007
• 25 October 2007
• 25 October 2007
• 24 October 2005

And now... presenting... a Tumblr blog

Couldn't really suss out what Tumblr was all about, but I think I 'get' it now, thanks to lomokev's talk at Add the Colour last night. It's a visual thing, right? A scrapbook of images, showcasing your own (Flickr) work, and re-blogging other people's inspirational images - and that's OK to do apparently! See my new blog here. And it's remarkably easy to set up!

#nerdmap - Google Maps

#nerdmap Map of places for a nerdy day out.

Nerdy Day Trips

Love the idea of Nerdy Day Trips!

Norman Rockwell at Dulwich

I didn't really know much about Norman Rockwell (and still don't!), but I was really looking forward to the exhibition at the Dulwich Picture Gallery and, boy, it does not disappoint - that man sure could paint - and draw! The biggest revelation was how big most of the pictures are, painted oil on canvas and - even though his early covers for the The Saturday Evening Post (founded by Benjamin Franklin) were only printed in black and red - all rendered in glorious Technicolor. How on earth did he transport them to the newspaper's offices, what about the drying time of the oils, how long did each one take to execute? In the first room is a fabulous picture of a 'dough boy' and some cheeky kids (on the front of the catalogue), with his early trademark white background. It has just enough red to be picked up by the process and it's enormous, and some other paintings on display seem to be life size! One long continuous wall of the show is covered literally with all 323 Saturday Evening Post covers he created between 1916 and 1963. What a client! (He did work for other clients too!) The sheer volume of work makes the originals part of the exhibition seem small by comparison, but there's enough there to show his skill: in both technique and composition, over and over again.


One of my favourites was Bridge game - the bid (1948) an aerial view in one-point perspectve showing all four hands of cards. The skin modelling is exemplary, using a cross-hatching technique reminiscent of the tempera work of Giotto (in fact there is a tempera piece by Rockwell towards the end of the show). But he's no photo-realist, like the Pre-Raphaelites. Look closely and you can see the hand of the artist in the beautiful brushwork - highly detailed around the faces and hands; looser elsewhere. And the few drawings exhibited show he was a dab hand with the pencil too. (It would have been nice to see the reference photos he used too.) In his later work, the compositions get more busy. April Fools - girl with shopkeeper (1948) is a Masquerade of detail that would occupy a spot-the-difference fan for hours. Some people dismiss Rockwell as kitsch, reactionary and sentimental - he is after all the anithesis of the Abstract Expressionists (a subject explored in the Kurt Vonnegut novel Bluebeard) - and there is one cover on show (sadly not the original) of a Connoisseur (1962) standing before the more critically appreciated Jackson Pollock. But in all honesty, as you leave the exhibition space to enter the Dulwich's permanent collection of Old Master paintings, those brown saints and aristocrats look drab and boring in comparison with Rockwell's pictorial exuberance.

It cost £8 entry (group rate). Although there was an excellent catalogue for sale (£22), the postcards were a disappointment! I didn't dare take any photos inside the exhibition. The coach trip was organised by the Brighton Illustrators Group and we had an enjoyable lunch at the nearby Crown and Greyhound (where they had Harvey's on tap!). The exhibition runs until 27 March 2011 - don't be such an art snob, go see it. You'll be amazed.

Who really lived in my house?

1877 map of Preston Circus: Gerard Street is off Clyde Road

When I wrote about who lived in my house, I didn't actually know who was a landlord and owned my house, and who was a tenant and actually lived here. Looking at census records however (thanks to David Pipes for supplying them as it is sometimes difficult to search on an address rather than name), it became clear that names were popping up that I hadn't heard of before. Henry Burnham was the only chap mentioned in the mortgages. One thing that struck me was how many people there were living here sometimes: two families in 1881, plus a mother-in-law and lots of lodgers and boarders too. It was exciting to discover that an engine driver once lived under this roof, even though he lied about his age!

Page's Directory 1877 - no mention of Gerard Street
Page's Directory 1879 - 'small houses'

1881 Census
Fanny Eager, 29, laundress
Alice E, 10, scholar
William R, 7, scholar
Geo C, 5
+
William Christmas, 33, lab(ourer?) from Guildford
Mary, wife, 28
John, 3
Wllm H, 1
(+ a Miss Sayers who didn't sleep there!)

Page's directory 1889 - Mrs Fanny Eager, laundress

1891 Census
Henry Burnham, 55, night porter - hotel
Louise, 45, wife
Henry, 6, son
Ada Louise, 12
Henrietta Elizabeth, 9
James Fielder, 21, lodger, firefighter
William Rapley, 19, lodger, engine cleaner

Page's Directory1892 - Mrs Burnham, dressmaker
Page's Directory1894 - Mr W Hale
Kelly's Directory1898 - Willian Thomas Hale
Pike's Directory1900 - Walter Simfield
Towner's Directory 1901 - Mrs Martyn

1901 Census
Harry H Hollist, 51, engine driver (locomotive)
Mary A, 49, wife
Eliza S Martyn, 72, mother-in-law

1911 Census
Harry Harding Hollist, 46, engine driver
Mary Ann, 45, wife
Henry Horace Martyn, 6, adopted son
George Robert Rutter, 21 , boarder, coachmaker
Walter Stephenson, 22, boarder, carr.(iage?) finisher

[Hmmm, was someone lying about their age?]

Kelly's Directory 1949 - Henry Harding Hollist
Kelly's Directory 1954 - no entry
Kelly's Directory 1955 - Mrs Bunney
Kelly's Directory 1958 - Alfd D Greene
Kelly's Directory 1974 - ditto [last directory in local history library]

My Neighbourhood: World of Fred - a set on Flickr

My Neighbourhood: World of Fred - a set on Flickr: an afternoon with me immortalised by Tamsin Chapman, part of a Queenspark project.

Who lived in my house?

A while ago I asked my building society for a copy of my house deeds. I was wanting to find out when it was built. They said there would be a charge, but that they had a whole lot of other stuff I could have for free. I said yes please and a few days later a huge Jiffy bag full of ancient documents arrived. It was every single mortgage that applied to this address. It's now in a safe at my solicitor's but I took some notes first.

The land was once owned by the toffs who lived at Preston Manor, the Stanfords. It was fields of sheep with the odd windmill. Then the railway viaduct was built in 1846. Amongst the documents was an act of parliament that was all about a Stanford hieress, who to inherit the pile had to get any husband to change his name to Stanford. It may well have been Lady Ellen Thomas-Stanford, who eventually left the Manor to Brighton council.

On 3 June 1878, a Joshua Yardley (Yardley Street is the next street up the hill) sold a parcel of land comprising Nos 18 and 20 to Sidcup builder Josiah Roome for £180. I don't know if he bought any other plots.

Elizabeth Dipple took out a £400 mortgage on the property on 6 July 1878, but on 2 October innkeeper Charles Delmon bought the house from J Roome for £320. It's not clear when the house was actually built! On 24 June 1890, Henry Burnham - an army pensioner and hotel porter of 24 Gerard Street, bought it and on 19 December 1892 William Thomas Hale, a police detective, bought the house for £250. So much for inflation! On 17 October 1893 a jeweller called Robert Morse Younger took it off his hands. Another jeweller called James Henry Wellings paid £300 for it 5 June 1906. He lived here a while, because it wasn't until 9 November 1936 that Lily Hewetson, a clerk, bought it for £475 from Ernest Albert Hopkins and Geo Herbert Fowler. Who are they, you might ask? Possibly the people handling probate? Lily died 15 January 1939.

On 18 March 1939, James Wllm Hopkins and Elizabeth Mayo Hopkins paid £500 to vendor Simpson Hewetson for my house. We then leap to 20 April 1953 when J W Hopkins sold it on to Iris Goldsmith. A couple of months later and on 5 August 1953 Mrs Goldsmith sold it to Winifred Bunney. On 24 December 1968 it was owned (or rented?) by the delightfully named Aileen Beatrice Henville Chappell and Gwendoline Maud Henville de Graaff-Hunter. Sisters perhaps? 9 May 1974 it was acquired by Alfred Douglas Greene, the administrator of Win Bunney and, by 9 November 1977, Paul Nigel Abraham and Pamela Anne were living here. On 29 May 1980 it was bought by Raymond Barry Bisson and Elizabeth Ann Bisson for £9,950. When I viewed the house Liz was living with Dave Wilshire, the signwriter. They both now live in Australia. Liz's previous partner became a Buddhist monk and presided over a funeral I attended at the Crem. I moved in May 1987, and the rest they say is history!

One day, I'll try to fill in some details from census records and Kelly's Directory information but that's enough for now.

Daily Moan #17: Centre and epicentre

A joke. Q. where's the dead centre of Brighton? A. The cemetery! Ba dum bump ching! I've never been happy with the modern use of centre, as in Youth Centre, Health Centre or Shopping Centre. In Hove there's a place called a Trial Centre. We used to call them Courts, but presumably the people most likely to use them might get confused by the tennis courts down the road? Libraries are now called things like learning resource centres, to reflect that they rarely lend out books these days. Why have one simple word when you can have two or more? Boring old museums are sexed up with names like Thinktank, but I digress.

Because the word 'centre' has become meaningless, TV news reporters like to use the word 'epicentre' instead, as in 'Pakistan is the epicentre of terrorism'. Now, this has a specific meaning: because earthquakes often happen underground, the epicentre describes the place on the surface immediately above the real centre. Well, this may have symbolic meaning, as it is the place where most damage occurs, but mostly it is being misused.

Questions Of Cash in The Independent

Highly abridged letter of mine in today's Questions Of Cash relating to Daily Moan #14.

My life in a map

You may have noticed I haven't been moaning much recently. Well I certainly have reason to - about my bloomin' Epson R2400 printer which has finally gone to the menders, and the fact that the Brighton recycling lorry came a day early, despite the council sending out a calendar of dates, followed by a revised calendar cos the first one had a wrong date on it - but I haven't been blogging them! Instead I've been messing around with Google Maps and managed to put every place I've ever lived onto a map. I've lived in 23 different houses, bedsits, rooms and flats, some for as little as three weeks. This morning I added all the places I've ever worked. So my whole life to date is on one map. Some places have been demolished; others are approximately located as it's sometimes difficult to read house numbers on Street View, and my memory isn't that good. My Maps is great - I could imagine using it as some kind of immersive narrative device, for eStories. Maybe I'll think about that. If that 'View ... in a larger map' link below doesn't work, try this link.


View Larger Map

Daily Moan #16: noisy and uncomfortable cafes and bars

I was amused by the review in the Independent of Bill's new Produce Store in London's Covent Garden. The former fruit and veg market sounds like an appropriate place for a pretend farm shop, but apparently it's been faked up inside a new development. Now, I confess I haven't been there, but I have been to the original one in Lewes, and the more recent Brighton branch, housed in a former garage. And I just don't get it. Maybe a few years ago the Lewes branch was a pleasant place to eat, but not any more. Not only do you have to queue for a table, but it's cramped, uncomfortable and very very noisy. The same goes for the Brighton cafe. The food is nice enough, but it's not a place you feel you can linger, what with the eyes of the queuing punters drilling holes in the back of your neck.

I remember when The Volunteer, by the Corn Exchange, was an old geezers' pub. Usually empty, except after a performance in the Dome complex, it had plush velvet seating, real ale pumps, and a sticky carpet. It was quiet. Then Zel took it over, stripped it back to wood and brick, put in old domestic furniture, replaced the beer with foreign-sounding lager at twice the price - and the youngsters flooded into The Mash Tun, as it was renamed. Their original inn sign is on display in the Waggon and Horses opposite, where you can still get a nice pint of Harvey's. This was before seating was allowed outside, and there was always a halo of customers round the door jostling to get in. What was going on? The formula was repeated around town. Bars with hard acoustically reflective wooden floors and walls naked of absorbent flock wallpaper assaulted the eardrums - even without the throbbing disco beats. The Tin Drum at Seven Dials, where a dear friend always insists we go for his birthday drink, is extremely noisy, even without muzak. I don't think anywhere has gone the whole hog like in some Northern towns yet however, where they have even removed the seating, but there again I haven't been down West Street lately!

The craze for discomfort has now spread to cafes, as in Bill's mentioned above. Nia in the North Laine was one of the first to introduce a mish-mash of mismatched junk shop chairs and tiny tables made from old school desks. At the brand new Carluccio's, seating is on long wooden benches and the noise level is at the road-drill level of decibels. Call me old-fashioned, but I like quiet comfortable cafes where I can chat without getting a sore throat, and pubs with comfy seats and proper beer - is that too much to ask?

Daily Moan #15: fewer not less

I was going to have a good old Moan about inkjet printer cartridges (especially Epson ones) today: the price of them and how they only put a few drops of ink in each - and how the chips in them make you buy more of the damn things before they've even run out. But I won't. Instead, it's back to grammar and something that when I hear it makes me want to shout at the TV. It's when people use 'less' when they should be using 'fewer'. It happened this morning on 'Wanted Down Under' - yes, I know it's a crappy daytime programme, but I got lured in. I think she was talking about 'less opportunities' or something, but it made me shout out: 'FEWER!'

According to my dictionary, less is used when talking about relative amounts or quantities and fractions thereof, eg 'eat less jam' or 'the government cuts will mean less money in your pocket' or 'he has less hair than he used to'. Whereas fewer is used for things measured by discrete number and usually deals with plurals, eg 'government cuts will mean fewer policemen on the beat'. Confusingly, however, less can used with numbers when they are on their own, eg 'Their marriage lasted less than four years'.

Supermarket checkouts with signs saying '10 items or less' are wrong. It should be '10 items or fewer' but try telling that to Mr Sainsbury. 'Less graduates will get jobs this year' is wrong. It should be fewer graduates. The Plain English Campaign, according to the BBC article about Tesco linked to earlier has a simple rule of thumb: less means 'not as much', whereas fewer means 'not as many'.