LOOKING
OUT 2018 Occasional
Comments on the Passing Scene in 2018 Barry Williamson
See also: Looking Out 2017, Looking Out 2016, Looking Out 2013, Looking
Out 2012, Looking Out 2011 December 2018 (Greece, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, France, Luxembourg, Belgium, England)
Mortal or Immortal? Thankfully, the Orthodox religion of Greece prefers to regard Late Bronze Age
Jewish Tribal Myths as referring to an entirely immortal being, and not the
semi-mortal of Western religions. Greek gods regularly got mortal women into
trouble – semi-immortal Hercules for example was the result of one such
romance. Therefore Mary doesn't appear very often in Orthodox stories and the
Xmas birth to a mortal woman (in a stable of all places) somehow doesn't fit
with godliness. Greeks prefer Easter, which is a great celebration of Jesus
going back to where he belongs – up with the gods on Mount Olympus.
Something Fishy. We
arrived in England on 11 December and left again on 19 December. Initially
driving to Dick Lane Motors in Bradford for expert repairs, we spent much of
the time on the west coast in and around Leyland, with Paul Hewitt (who was his
usual magnificent self), Morrisons, Todd's Motorhomes (they have a very tasty
Roller Team model in their showroom) and the simple campsite managed by Mark at
the ponds stocked with fish to be fished out and put back in again at a cost of
£5 per day (or £12 to camp).
Murder in the Market: We are here in good time for Strasbourg's Christmas Market, quickly restored to
life after the murder and mayhem of 10 days ago. The murder scene is now marked
with hundreds of mute tributes (flowers and candles) and words that speak of
courage and togetherness, echoing Charlie Hebdo 'Nous sommes tous Strasbourg'.
Celebrations: Margaret has been able to make her usual Christmas cake (with marzipan, topped
off with Barry piping the icing), Christmas pudding and mince pies. A dozen
empty jam jars lie in wait in the motorhome's garage; the oranges and lemons to
make next year's supply of marmalade already hanging from trees in a Spartan
grove. Aid for the Orphans 1990: I
assume that you are travelling by train (in India) which puts me in mind of a railway
journey Margaret and I made over Christmas and New Year in 1990. On that
Christmas day the execution of the Ceausescu's literally opened the gates to
the restricted Romania we had travelled through on a bicycle journey to
Istanbul the previous summer. During 1990 we took a total of about 8 tons of
aid (freely donated) in 3 journeys by truck (freely loaned) to orphanages in
Romania, focussing on Moldavia in the far northeast. Our contacts were made
through what had been an underground network of very brave Baptists. At that
time we felt that Europe was really opening up and becoming free. The Turning of the Year: The
Winter Solstice passed by yesterday almost completely unnoticed and unremarked
by many, although it is a most important day for us. The turning of the tide on
shortening days and lengthening nights, of gloom and falling temperatures.
Driving south and east at the same time as the sun pauses, turns and begins its
long journey back into our hemisphere, lightens the heart as well as the day.
How the quality of the light changes once we have tunnelled under the Alps
between Switzerland and Italy. Just Imagine: We
like your use of John Lennon's words. There are more words at the beginning: “Imagine
there's no heaven. It's easy if you try. No hell below us. Above us only sky.
Imagine all the people. Living for today.” Eve and I played this song to
ourselves on our C90 cassette tape player every morning before we went to work
in the Polytechnic in Bhopal, the capital of Madhyar Pradesh (the former
Central Provinces) in the 1970's. Somehow, those were days of hope before the
complexities and disillusions that permeate life today. Perhaps pigeons really
are coming home to roost (oh dear, not another metaphor!) Democracy UK Style: A
recent excellent article in the Guardian, written from the Republic of Ireland,
pointed out that the UK governing system only worked and was stable when there
were just two sides (labour vs capital), taking it in turns to bray at each
other in public-school-trained debate on opposite and facing sides of wooden
benches in a pseudo-medieval chamber. We get just two sides by having an
election system that precluded any smaller parties, eg the Greens and UKIP
between them got 5 million votes (16.6% of the total) in 2015 but only gained
one seat each (together 0.3% of the total). Now that Brexit (and much else)
doesn't fit into simple binary choices, we have chaos and uncertainty.
Democracy European Style: Most European countries have not only abolished their Kings, Emperors and
hangers-on in the form of Lords, Earls and Dukes, but they have also introduced
proportional representation, coalition government and circular seating patterns
with a chair, desk and computer screen for every representative. Not least,
voting takes no longer than the press of a button, not the 20 minutes that UK
MPs take to trudge through the Aye or the No Lobby, being counted as they pass
like sheep in a restless night. How Quaint.
The Turning Point (in an email to Paul Hewitt): We
never thought that we would be writing this email, but we have become
interested in acquiring electric-motor assisted bicycles! Age begins to tell
and these Greek hills are starting to look quite intimidating. Two questions, if we may
1. Is it possible to adapt our present Paul Hewitt Touring bikes, for example
by fitting a rear wheel with a built-in motor plus a frame-fitting battery and
handlebar-mounted controls?
2. Or, if not, what do you recommend as new bicycles suitable for our sort of
touring – ie comfortable bikes with mudguards, racks for rear panniers,
handlebar bag, etc with a range of 50 miles or more in hilly country. The motor
driving the cranks would probably be best to assist the pedalling rather than
just turning the back wheel, and derailleur gears could still be used.
Einstein on the Road: Many
thanks for your email and your critique of my writing. It's a rare pleasure for
me to have such detailed and knowledgeable comments, and I greatly appreciate
it. The Watershed piece was set in a ride in the Landes Department of France
bordering the Bay of Biscay, covered in vast conifer forests and leading south
to the Pyrenees (the real watershed). This sense of movement is part of the
fascination of cycling: on the one hand there is the awareness of moving
forward; on the other hand everything else is either moving towards you with
apparently increasing speed, pausing briefly (instantaneously) before moving
away behind you, all the time slowly rearranging itself to create an
ever-changing perspective. An Einstein moment when space and time become one
(we are taught to mix them up and call it 'speed', worshiping its
acceleration).
November 2018 (France, Germany, Austria, Italy, Greece) A Life Story: The
first draft of my account of my life, starting with the tracing of (parents) Joe and
Doris, is nearing completion. Overall theme: 'Northern Working Class Lad Makes
Good.' So far it runs to about 15,500 words, but it is only the first draft. I am amazed by the sheer diversity of what I
have done and how life can so neatly divide into phases, many of them
overlapping, sometimes one inside another, some slowly arising and fading, some
popping up out of nowhere and disappearing in a moment. It's hard and not
necessary to keep to a strict chronology, the phases are how we recall life
since that is how it is lived. Phases: You write of phases in your life. I guess the real challenge, which we have yet
to address, is how all or most or some of the phases fit together to make a
person and a life. The parallel with travel is almost perfect. For phase read
journey. Numerous interacting phases or journeys are needed for a country or
geographical area (large or small) to become known. At the same time, the
person passing through the phases or making the journeys is enriched and not
only adds to their own knowledge and experience, but also adds to who they are.
Germany's High Point: We have spent some time in a corner of Germany we have only
previously passed through. Bavaria is the most prosperous area of Germany with
a splendid mix of major industry, charming Alpine houses, green meadows,
medieval towns and villages, all on the northern edge of the Alps with the
nearby Zugspitze Germany's highest peak at just short of 3,000 m or nearly
10,000 ft; we climbed to its summit restaurant years ago, in a cable car.
Cold Comfort: Bavaria's Sulzberg and Garmisch-Partenkirchen were cold being 2,500 ft high in
the foothills of the Alps with night frosts and a light snow fall. On our last
night in Germany the water in the motorhome's boiler froze meaning a wait for
the morning's first cup of tea.
The Watershed: Now we have left Germany and crossed Austria via Innsbruck to meet Italy at the
top of the Brenner Pass. Where Hitler and Mussolini used to meet for a chat on
the border, there is now a parking area for trucks to cool down after their
strenuous climb. A few miles south of the pass, we are in a German-speaking
part of Italy, the South Tirol, where it is much warmer and the nearby village
Chiusa mixes the best of German and Italian pâtisseries in its bakery.
The Local TV has a mix of channels in Italian and German with some English and
we meet motorhomers and other travellers from across the mainland, but none so
far from the UK. This in itself explains why true Europeans are at ease with
each other in each other's countries. How isolated and alone England feels and
is: the British deluded by their own ignorance but with a so-called global
perspective in which they don't even know or meet their neighbours.
On the High Seas: This morning we booked the Minoan Lines overnight ferry from Ancona (on Italy's
Adriatic coast south of Venice) to Igoumenitsa in the far northwest of Greece,
very near the border with Albania. We sail from Ancona next Monday, after
travelling there via Verona, Modena and Rimini.
Wellness: The motorhome is running well, we are walking and riding well and the bicycles
are doing what they do well. What more can we ask?
Euthanasia will eventually become acceptable; what ethic (probably derived,
like too much else, from the superstitions and drug- or schizophrenia-induced
voices and visions of Late Bronze Age tribal leaders) forces people to leave
this life in the horrible ways you graphically describe. We don't allow such
suffering in dogs or cats. The medical profession is hoisted by its own petard,
with much of its funding devoted to keeping people alive when all hope is gone.
They probably fear the job and prestige losses if euthanasia became routine.
What midwife voted for abortion?
Return to Greece: We are now in Greece, having taken the overnight Minoan Lines
ferry from the Italian port of Ancona, south down the Adriatic to Igoumenitsa.
Ig, as we call it, is mainly a ferry port with routes across the Adriatic to
the Italian ports of Brindisi, Bari, Ancona, Venice and Trieste. There are also
regular ferries in and out, to and from, the nearby island of Corfu (or
Kerkyra, as the Greeks insist on calling it). Corfu used to be a British
Possession but we gave it to Greece in the early days of their struggle to get
free of 400 years of Turkish occupation. It took the Greeks 100 more years to
establish their present borders (1821-1921) and still they are arguing with
Turkey about it. Taking Over from the Ottomans: The
struggle for Greek Independence was a bit one-sided, given that Britain, France
and Russia were on the Greek side, although their eye was on the extensive
Ottoman Empire which was finally shared out between Britain and France in the
aftermath of the First World War. Among much else, Britain got Iraq and France got Syria. Greece did better with the Aegean along with its 3,000
islands, only 200 or so of them occupied. The Ottomans got what is now Turkey and one Aegean island!
Nothing Like It: We are aiming for
Finikounda in the southern Greek Peloponnese, a place we know well. Meanwhile we are just enjoying being in
Greece. There are many words to describe this country and the experience of being
here, most of them superlatives. My word is 'incomparable', so I don't.
Feline Friends: Margaret has already
formed a close working (or feeding) relationship with about 9 cats (3 black
ones with green eyes, 1 grey one with orange eyes, 1 ginger one, 2 tabby and
white ones, 2 black and white kittens). They sit patiently at the door waiting
for us to get up; it's nice to feel wanted! Cats are a feature of Greek
campsites, hotels, tavernas and cafés; those not so favoured are the 'trash cats'
who live in and around large rubbish containers in the street, with lids that
stopped closing some time back in Ancient Greek History.
Brexit from Afar: At this distance
(about 1,200 miles from Hull to here, not counting two overnight ferries),
Brexit is even more of a nightmare. What has happened to the English? 'Europe'
is a wonderful place to be, not something the Tories have constructed as a
threat onto which we should project our hatred and sense of oppression. Better
to understand that it's not Europe we're leaving (we just can't); it's the
Tories we should be leaving – in the dustbin of an oppressive history. The Boy in the Bush: This is a DH Lawrence novel I read many years ago as a
library book, now available for less than a pound as a Kindle. Two things recommend it: it is set in the 1880's and its
use of English is of that era and splendid and gives a great insight into the
early years of the colony, how it was established and how people lived. It also
draws a strong distinction between the social and the physical worlds. The
central figure, Jack Grant, seeks the latter in the bush and finds the former
an intrusion.
Germany Calling: We are now in
deepest southern Germany, in fact it's Bavaria and very near the borders with
German-speaking Switzerland and even more German-speaking Austria. Margaret
speaks correct German (known as Hochdeutsch) very well indeed, which is more
than can be said (or heard) for (or from) the locals.
Where to Celebrate? We did notice
that they did not celebrate the Centenary of the WW1 Armistice here in Germany on
11 November. In fact, the German President was in London and the Chancellor Mrs
Merkel was in Paris for the ceremonies. Perhaps they were saying 'sorry', but
perhaps not. Being on the receiving end, the two German leaders could also have
mentioned something the British don't seem to have noticed: it was the
Americans who made the difference in WW1 and it was they who stayed on to stop
the Russians (having won) advancing any further in WW2.
Empathy, Altruism & Self-Awareness:
Empathy and its more active cousin altruism are each and together true measures
of what it is to be a conscious human being. A self-awareness which leads to
awareness of other people's experiences, feelings and world-view. But how
challenging it is when these characteristics we aspire to are really put to the
test!
Aid for Deprived Children: One thing
I did before leaving India after a year living and working in Madras/Chennai
was to set up a charity to provide the most basic forms of medication for
children in Madras slum areas: vitamin A supplements to reduce blindness and
antidiarrheal treatments to reduce death by dehydration.
Closing Down Time: Perhaps we all
need inspirational figures in our lives; perhaps they add to or substitute for
religious belief. Do you retain your faith? Does it help? With ageing, horizons
tend to shrink, ambitions fade, attention becomes focussed on matters of detail
and day-to-day activities. We feel the onset of this; comfort begins to have
the edge over risk. But this is all in the head; it's a different matter when
the body itself begins its inevitable decline and decay, creating its own
bounds and restrictions. The balance given by having a sense of proportion
begins to tilt. After a lifetime of the brain commanding the body, the body
begins to command the brain – slow down, cut back, keep warm!
Capability: As travellers we deal with our daily choice among
permutations and combinations (as now finding new routes, people, places and
experiences en route probably to Greece). The main thing is to be capable, to
have capability. Knowing that whatever turns up, we have the knowledge, skills,
resources, attitudes, experience, etc to work with it to our advantage. Imagine
in a 6-week summer holiday, flying overnight over the Arctic to land in
Vancouver with nothing planned or booked except a return ticket from Toronto
3,200 miles away and two bicycles on which to make the journey. That's who we
still are! We got to the airport in Toronto with a day in hand to visit Niagara before
flying back the day before the start of the autumn term.
Refurbishing the Back Rooms: Things
are now much improved in Romania with many thanks to the European Union,
steadily refurbishing the neglected rooms in what Gorbachev called 'Our
European Home'. The UK will soon be homeless, unless protests reach a pitch
sufficient to stop the madness of that ugly word 'Brexit'.
An Excellent Example from Germany: Here
in Donaueschingen we are staying about a mile from the centre, by the sports
ground where there is a parking area for motorhomes to spend the night (free of
charge) with coin-operated electrical hook-ups, a very common arrangement in
Germany and France. In the UK, by contrast, most car parks have height barriers
and no provision at all. This morning we cycled into town through the leafy
park and sat in the sunshine by a market stall, eating substantial German
sausages and sipping mulled wine. It's a hard life!
About Twelve Square Metres: We live
in a very small space in the motorhome (6 m long by 2 m wide) with our two
laptops on the table practically on top of the gas stove, small fridge,
three-burner gas hob, toaster and electric kettle. No problems so far.
A Place Where People Live: After an afternoon's
bike ride into and around Strasbourg, we realise yet again that people in sad,
old, run-down, austerity-ridden Britain have no idea how prosperous and well-kept
European cities can be. Wonderful also to see how many people were walking and
riding bikes in this widespread city. Pedestrians and bicycles have priority
over cars throughout France and what a difference that makes. How few cars
there are in the centre – and no trucks. It's called 'civilised'! And people
actually live in the city centres!
Chicken Curry à la Française: We had
the French version of Chicken Curry for lunch. This involved sitting at a table
out in the street eating small dry pieces of chicken along with a choice of
either French fries (with ketchup) or crudités (a mound of every kind of raw
vegetable made less dry by mixing in a little white sauce). We learnt that the
French for 'curry' is 'curry', and the French for 'ketchup' is 'ketchup'. If
they keep this up, it will make life a lot easier.
Changing Standards: A very clever
move on the part of the French has been to change the standard on which they
broadcast their TV channels. This means that a UK TV (wall-mounted 19" flat screen), like ours, gets a very
good picture but absolutely no sound. So goodness knows what they are saying
about us or how they are saying it! Later in Germany they went even further:
the improvements there meant that we tuned into several channels but had
neither sound nor vision. In Italy we were overwhelmed with channels, sound and
vision, none of which did we want to watch. Roll on the ferry: we always tune
in when we are in Greece.
God
and the Queen. What a different country France is. Armistice Day
(11/11) is a national holiday (as is 8 May, VE Day) and gods, the
church and the army are kept well away from the ceremonies; the
Republic is represented by a message from the President, read aloud
by the Mayor to the assembled citizens. 'La Marseillaise' is sung
with gusto. We once attended Armistice ceremonies in Ypres by the
Menin Gate, and another time in Soissons which was on the front line
in World War One and completely destroyed. At its end, the latter
ceremony moved to a small British memorial nearby where a French
children's choir sang our national anthem in English: God save the
Queen! We cringed. Along
the Frontline.
After our long journey along the battle lines of the First World War,
we have reached the Rhine, the German border, the end of the Maginot
Line and Strasbourg, itself a symbol of European Unity. Emmanuel
Macron came to join us on Sunday evening, but we missed him. He was
at the beginning of his own Armistice Centenary tour of the World War
One front line, visiting a total of 17 towns ending with meeting Frau
Merkel on 11/11 in the same railway dining car in the forest of
Compiègne, where the Armistice was signed in November 1918 and where
Hitler forced the surrender of the French in June 1940. We were there
in April
2015.
Where
the Danube Begins. Next for us will be the Black Forest, where we
may pick up the beginning of the Danube in Donaueschingen and follow
it for a while. The river has a superb cycle path its full length of
1,780 miles to the Black Sea, a bit far for us these days. We have cycled
much of it in sections, at least as far as Budapest.
Marx
& the Monarchy. I read Marx many long years ago (Karl, not
Groucho, Chico, Harpo or Zeppo), almost once joined the Revolutionary
Communist Party in Sheffield and used 'Das Kapital' as my text when I
got a distinction in my MBA. So the personality, or complete lack of
it, of the many assorted members of our so-called and self-styled
'royal' family are of no interest to me. That extended family
should long ago have been assigned to the dustbin of history, as were
their cousins throughout the continent of Europe (along with their
empires). We already have far too many unemployed people on
state-provided benefits.
The
Survival of the Feckless. The 'royals' now survive by
association – with tourism, with celebrity status, with a distorted
view of history, with heading the church, with living in palaces,
with wounded soldiers, with funerals of important people, with
travelling in horse and carts and waving at the sort of people who
voted to leave the EU. They also have the wisdom to keep remote and
quiet, only occasionally reading out words written for them on set
occasions.
Non-Stop
Flight to Perth. By the way, we hope that your aeroplane is
non-stop, otherwise you would be in trouble. On the other hand,
throughout Eastern Europe we have noted that Non-Stop is often used
outside a shop or a café or a petrol station to note that it keeps
going 24/7. So we hope that is also not true for your flight.
A
Sense of Direction. We are getting there, although it is a long
and challenging road and we are still not quite where 'there' is.
We are still all aims and few objectives!
October
2018 (England, Belgium, France)
Hunt the
Poet. We looked for and found the grave of Lt E Alan Mackintosh
MC, the Scottish war poet who was killed in the battle of Cambrai on
21 November 1917. Every war grave has a story, every man loved and
missed. A complete surprise was finding a memorial to Alan, dedicated
in November 2017, in the village of Cantaing where he met his
death.
Where the Tanks First Broke Through. We are in
the midst of the World War One battle fields in front of Cambrai
along the highly defended German Hindenburg Line. This is the place
where, starting on 20 November 1917, tanks were first used in battle,
but to no immediate effect. Everywhere we turn there are Commonwealth
War Graves Commission cemeteries: walled enclosures of well-tended
grass where ranks of identical white headstones stand like immaculate
soldiers on parade, sternly overlooked by a tall cross. Country lanes
lead between bleak fields, the potatoes and sugar beet now
harvested.
Over or Under the Sea. The Tunnel was not to
be, as we had to return north to Huddersfield to organise some work
at the house, which is to have a new bathroom. Not wanting to drive
back to the Channel, we took the ferry from Hull to Zeebrugge, had a
quick look at Brugge or Bruges (too many tourists) and went on into
northern France to visit some of the battlefields and cemeteries of
the First World War, appropriate at this time with the Centenary of
the Armistice.
Buying
and Selling. We are learning a lot about the revolution in retail
sales, for the good and the ill of the retail industry. It is quite
amazing that almost everything can be ordered after detailed online
searches and comparisons, paid for with a click of the mouse and then
instantly delivered. I experience that only with my Kindle, when I
can order a book while still in bed and it arrives on my screen
before I have even turned over.
Buy
Evans? But what is happening to shops? I read in the Guardian
early this morning (while still in bed) that the Evans cycle business
had been taken over by that rat from Sports Direct, Mike Ashley, a
Green-like figure. A really good retailer and bike builder, Evans has
been in business for a hundred years and employs 1,300 people, 880 of
them in 62 shops. It was taken over by a private equity firm 3 years
ago after a management buy-out but couldn't match online sales from
companies such as Wiggle.
Ashley
is Pleased. Just as Philip Green did, Ashley waited until the
company went into administration so that he wouldn't have to take
over its debts including the pension liabilities. Ashley is quoted as
saying 'We are pleased to have rescued the Evans Cycle brand . . .
. however, to save the business we only believe we will be able to
keep 50% of the stores open in the future'. That's over 400
people out of a job. Some rescue!
Playing
with Money. The UK is now nothing but a playground for the
finance industry, short-term gamblers and speculators. With little
regard for the public good, services, production, health, the
environment, job security, education, the future, etc. For how much
longer will the public put up with this? What a relief to land back
on the mainland where capitalism has been kept much more under
control ever since the cataclysm of WW2. And not least due to the
European Union. Pilgrimage (the
forerunner of tourism) had well-worn paths to a fixed number of holy
shrines; for tourism any object will do. As a student I camped in a
deserted Glen Brittle and climbed the rough gabbro rock of the
Cuillin Mountains on Skye. Now hordes take selfies by the 'fairy
pools' part way down the Glen, recently placed at the top of
the Daily
Mail's ten
most romantic spots in the British Isles and in Lonely Planet's Top
Ten must-visit-and-take-a-selfie stops. The passing places on the
single track roads are blocked with parked cars, while convoys of
Italian motorhomes have been known to find nowhere to turn round
until the police are in called to help!
What
To Do. The main thing is what you do with your assets and income,
rather than just sitting on them and in them as most people do. Have
some real goals or targets or aims or objectives for the rest of your
life. Perhaps something entirely new but challenging. Use the
resources to enrich your life! Something to look forward to, to wake
up for. Find a part of yourself that hasn't found expression yet.
A
British Summer. We arrived in the UK on the Hook of Holland to
Harwich ferry in mid-May, after driving overland from Greece via
Albania and countries of the former Yugoslavia. We anticipated the
usual quick visit for MOT, motorhome service and shopping but in the
event we stayed awhile to enjoy the exceptional summer weather and
avoid the heat and fires of mainland Europe. We worked our way up
through Yorkshire, rediscovering favourite places to cycle on the
Yorkshire Wolds and North Yorkshire Moors, until we reached
Northumberland and the Borders for more cycling. We almost got used
to stealing out on the UK's homicidal roads! Then we drove on via
Glencoe to Mallaig and over the sea to Skye to visit our Australian
friends, now living there on their 12-acre croft across the water
from Dunvegan Castle. They are planting hundreds of trees on their
land – rowan, birch and oak – and we've given them a donation
to have a 'Williamson Memorial' grove.
On
Hearing from a Long-Lost Friend. Thanks for breaking the ice;
despite what should be the immutable laws of physics, underneath the
ice the water is quite warm and it has great depth.
Vowels
on the Move. We have been astonished at what the Kiwis have done
to what was once our mutual language. On our first visit, in our
first shop, we were asked if we had a 'pin'. We didn't but
wondered why we should have: it took some time to translate that into
'pen'. What has happened is a vowel shift: 'i' for 'e'
and 'u' for 'i'. Probably the influence of Maori on Scottish!
We never did discover how they teach spelling to infants – eg F I S
H spells fush. In
the Dark on the Nullarbor.
When we first read about lights along Australian roads we immediately
thought of our first crossing of the Nullarbor, 750-miles
by bicycle in June 2000.
On the crossing we used our tent on occasions when we didn't reach
a roadhouse for the night, but hadn't sufficiently prepared for the
long dark evenings and were cooking by the bicycle headlamp! The
lights of road trains could be seen for many miles before they
appeared. Wonderful stars.
Old
& New Middle Classes. The traditional or, one could say, the
old middle class has nothing to do with capitalism, except that it
always was and remains a threat to the existence of that class, as
does Marxism. That class has no friends on either side of these two
extremes. Everything in England, and I do mean everything, is defined
by class. To understand this you have to live for some time in
countries and societies (and there are many of them) where this is
not so, and certainly not to such a pervasive and all-consuming
extent.
Class
Rules. In England class determines life expectancy, schooling,
university, housing, income, health, size of garden, food shopping,
make and size of car, choice of restaurants, diet, hotels, clothing,
music, TV programmes, IQ, type of alcohol, radio stations,
newspapers, politics, hobbies, who marries who, sports, and position
in the endless hierarchies within organisations (think civil service,
the NHS, the armed forces, etc). And which side of the Brexit divide.
This is the only country where I have to check constantly where I
'belong' in this pyramidal social structure and where I
don't.
The
Old Middle Class has taken shelter in the closed-shop
professions: medicine, law, the church, the military, politics,
banking, the upper echelons of the civil service and providing
services to the superior class in the aristocracy. This process turns
equality and service on its head by creating elites. In the UK, GP's
hide behind receptionists, nurses of various kinds, appointments,
strict working hours, high salaries and the privilege of being
addressed as 'Doctor' with no definite or indefinite article.
'Doctor will see you now'. From Australia to Sweden, it's Bruce
or Sven and 'how can I help you?'
The
Common People, lacking any kind of privilege, are bought off by
having their very own 'celebrities' by the hundred! In these they
invest their dreams, their aspirations and their fantasies.
Nothing
Remains the Same. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose. For
us there have been enormous changes and nothing remains the same. We
have tested ourselves and gone to the brink physically,
intellectually and emotionally, all the source of deep learning. We
have seen and interacted with humanity in all its guises and emerged
older but also wiser.
Letting
People Know. Good journeys deserve wide exposure, not so much for
the benefit of the traveller as that of the people who will read and
become inspired by it. Here in the UK, we are surrounded by Zombies
in the most amazingly expensive motorhomes, caravans and SUV's who
know no better than to bring them from home for a few days on a
campsite and then home again. On the campsite they replicate their
home life with TV, BBQ's, cleaning, polishing and sitting outside
with tablets (one to read, several to swallow) and a glass of
something.
Travel
in the Third World. As for us, we have had something of a block
about travelling in less developed countries in a motorhome, although
we have toured that way in Morocco and Eastern Turkey. We have
preferred cycling (Israel, Palestinian Territories, Tunisia, Morocco,
Fiji and all the Eastern European countries when they were behind the
Iron Curtain) or using locally-hired vehicles and local accommodation
and food in countries such as India, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia,
Malaysia, South Africa, etc. I (that's Barry) did my National
Service with the RAF in Hong Kong and my work (curriculum and
organisational development in the Polytechnic sector) took me to
Iraq, Malawi and India where I spent a total of 2 years spread over 7
visits including a year in Madras/Chennai. Polemics: We
have written two polemics on the subject of motorhome travel in what
was once called the 'third world'. One in 2010 and
one in 2012.
Capitalism
& Feudalism. Some countries (Russia, China, etc) have
followed centuries-long feudalism with the imposition of state
capitalism of the Soviet Union era. Sometimes, the two economic
systems run in parallel and it is quite fascinating to experience
'progress' as the old (the friendly ways of ordinary people)
persists alongside the new (burgeoning capitalism), as we experienced
it in Eastern Europe post Gorbachev in the 1990's.
Travel
with the Seasons. Our favourite part of Europe is Greece in the
winter (the southern Peloponnese), which we will be aiming for once
again. In summer we regularly go up to Scandinavia, especially the
far north of Sweden and Finland above the Arctic Circle.
Loaded
Bicycles. For transporting the many necessities needed on
long-distance bicycle journeys, we have custom-built touring cycles
(from Paul Hewitt in Leyland), with front and rear pannier racks.
That means we can carry 5 bags each: 2 large rear panniers, 2 smaller
front panniers, plus a handlebar bag for valuables, camera, etc. On
the long rides we always carried a small tent and a camping gaz
stove, though we used a mixture of camping and cheap accommodation.
These days we do shorter tours and don't take camping equipment,
being older (if not wiser!)
The
Cost of Camping. We often use ACSI sites in low season, when the
price with an ACSI card is between 11 Euros and 19 Euros a night. We
prefer to be on a campsite if we settle for long, for security and
the use of showers, laundry, hook-up and (often) WiFi. If staying
long-term in winter, the coastal sites in Spain, Portugal, Sicily and
Greece have good discounts for, say, a month or more, getting as low
as 10 Euros a night. Camping is of course most expensive in
July/August, costing 20 Euros or more.
Free
Overnight Parking. We also use French Aires and German Stellplatz
places, which sometimes have coin-operated hook-ups. They used to be
free but now tend to have a small charge, typically between 5 and 10
Euros a night. Books listing these 'Camperstops' are available from
Amazon or Vicarious Books. They are especially useful in winter, when
many campsites are closed except round the coasts or at ski resorts.
And, of course, we sometimes park for a free night while travelling,
for example at a motorway services (no charge anywhere except in the
UK) or by a harbour or marina or museum car park. Sometimes a
restaurant/café/hotel will let you park overnight if you eat there.
In Eastern Europe you can often stay on a TIR truck park for a very
small charge.
Brexit
as a Coup. We completely sympathise
with the situation you find yourselves in; we are concerned for the
future of our travels, you are concerned for your whole future. The
mess has been deliberately created to obfuscate what is really
happening. It's a pro-capitalist coup with nationalistic overtones
by the right wing of the Tory Party. Not on the same scale but along
the same lines as other coups ranging from the fascists in Germany in
the early 1930's to Trump right now. The propaganda and
misinformation techniques are very similar.
The
Interests of Capital. De-regulation,
free trade, high productivity, low wages, reduced taxation, less
state interference, less state spending, unemployment, reduced human
and employment rights are all in the interests of capital. 'Global
Britain' is openly declared, even though it is directly against the
interests of the deluded people who voted for it. We fear for civil
unrest when the penny (and the pound) finally drops.
Opposition?
The behaviour of the Labour Party is little short of despicable. If
they had been clearly in favour of remaining in the EU and made the
case for that consistently before, during and after the referendum,
they would have succeeded. It's an open goal. Every time a detail
comes out of what the Tories hope to achieve in their 'negotiations',
the answer is simple: we already have it.
Single
Words. How absurd to reduce the
incredible complexity of what has to be agreed to single words such
as 'Brexit' and 'Deal'. And how absurd to reduce our whole
future to a single 'deal' to be accepted or rejected, copying the
language and simplicity of Trump. With over a million older
people now dead and over a million younger people now eligible to
vote, another referendum or streets protests are the only way
forward.
Still
Moving. We are still on the road
after what is now 23½ years without a day off and your example
heartens us to continue. Now in England but pointing at le Tunnel
sous la Manche, we'll get out well before Brexit, even if we can't
get back in again. Perhaps we won't want to get back in again.
Now
You Pay. Thanks also for the news
about the campingcar-infos website. Over those many years we have
gone from 'park up for the night where you want', to 'free
Aire, Stellplatz and Aree de Sosta', to 'campsites overcharging',
to 'now pay for the Aire, Stellplatz and Aree de Sosta', to 'Pay
for the Guide to where you spend the night'. That is, capitalism
creeps in wherever there is a sign of free activity.
September
2018 (England)
Memories
of Sakar Hills. We get the immediate
firing of neurons in all directions provoking a myriad memories,
sights, sounds and feelings – all associated with Sakar Hills, your
family, Land Rovers, the Ex Pat Gang, Biser and so many other places
all around. Good also that the campsite is thriving and no longer on
the market. The For Sale notice has therefore been taken down from
both our websites: MagBazTravels and MagBazPictures.
Uncle
Cuthbert. I was fascinated by Great
Uncle Cuthbert and read more about him in Wikipedia and elsewhere.
What a man. I love the idea that the Naja christyi, commonly known as
the Congo water cobra or Christy's water cobra, is named after him,
as are Chamaelycus christyi (Christy's banded snake) and Polemon
christyi (Christy's snake-eater). Perhaps distracted by their hobbies
and interests, it was people like him who helped create the Empire
without really noticing it was happening.
Quakers.
I found myself following the development of large slices of English
industry and banking in the hands of Quakers (but not Quaker Oats).
The endowment mortgage we once had was insured through Friends
Provident. William Miller Christy expanded the hat business set up by
his father Miller Christy, and founded the London Joint Stock Bank.
Selling the bank, he used the money to start a cotton business in
Stockport and Droylsden in Manchester. The business had great success
with the Christy towel using the first industrially produced looped
cotton (terrycloth) which is still being made.
Workers.
Margaret's maternal grandad Herbert Kelsall (first generation out
of Ireland) was a lifelong worker in the Droylsden mill, rising to be
a foreman. On retirement after more than 50 years' service he got a
barometer and a thermometer, both relying on columns of mercury: very
impressive for anyone interested in the history of physics.
Suits.
I did once have a Burton Suit which cost £10 and which I used for
interviews when I first started teaching in Hull, Slough, High
Wycombe and then Huddersfield. I think it also had a waistcoat (the
full monty!)
Storms.
We thought of you on your exposed peninsula in the Isle of Skye as
Storm Ali swept across the British Isles. We only got a side swipe
here in East Yorkshire but that made the motorhome rock and the field
flood for a while. Following
the Romans.
We came north on the A697 and camped just outside Wooler for a while
to enjoy some cycling on quiet Northumbrian lanes. We also visited
Flodden Field and the villages of Carham
and Wark.
We didn't return on the A697 which would take us into the
industrial areas of Tyneside, but we did want to cross over Carter
Bar for the sake of auld
lang syne (Barry's
teenage bike ride from Hull to the Borders) and follow the old Roman
Dere Street down to the Wall and Corbridge (where Margaret cut her
archaeological teeth with the renowned Prof Eric Birley of Durham
University). We continued to Alston and down Teesdale and so back
onto the North York Moors, although access via Sutton Bank was
blocked for road works.
Scottish
Poet Alan Mackintosh. I have done
some work in tracing the cemetery where Alan lies. It is north-east
of the village of Flesquieres and he was killed a little further
north-east in the village of Cantaing-sur-Escaut less than 5 miles
south-west of Cambrai. Others killed in the same battle will also be
in the cemetery. The circumstances of his death are given in English
on a French website.
Chocolate,
Mackerel and Poppadoms. Thanks very much for the chocolate cake
recipe, which we both look forward to trying. It was memorable! And
we only found one small bone in the mackerel, you did a good job of
filleting it. Smoked mackerel sounds great - I do like kippers and
smoked haddock. We've already tried the poppadoms with a beef curry
and they worked very well, microwaved individually for 30 seconds
each side. What a discovery!
Ferry
to Greece. We have indeed taken the overnight ferries from Italy
on many occasions, mostly from Ancona but also from Bari and
Brindisi, as well as travelling to and from Greece overland by a
variety of routes. From Ancona you have a choice of Superfast or
Minoan ferries, and both use reasonably good ships. Minoan Lines
offer a 'Camping All Inclusive' deal for motorhomes and caravans,
giving you a place for the vehicle with a hookup, a 2-berth inside
cabin for the price of 2 deck tickets and a 30% discount on meals .
The price for the motorhome depends on its length (up to 6 metres,
6-8 m or 8-10 m).
Superfast/ANEK
(same company) don't include a cabin and meal voucher, but they allow
'Camping on Board' between 1 April and 31 October. This means you can
sleep and eat in the motorhome, with a hookup (don't use gas), as
well as having access to the rest of the ship. Their fares are
usually slightly cheaper, though from 1 November onwards you have to
pay extra for a cabin.
Look Ahead: We
would advise booking the ferry ahead (and there's some discount on a
return ticket - and for over 60's, if you are). You can book on-line
or by phone - we usually ring the Ancona terminal to make sure.
Camping
and Cycling in Greece. Campsites and overnight parking places
will not be too busy in October and we have never needed to reserve a
place - the season is over. As to cycling, the Peloponnese is
hilly/mountainous! For example, our favourite campsite (Ionion Beach,
50 miles south of Patras) is less than 7 miles ride from the village
of Vartholomio but it involves a serious climb each way. You can take
a fairly level shorter ride from Ionion to Loutras Killini and back -
but watch out for stray dogs!
Barry
Crawshaw. The MMM's former foreign
travel editor accepted our first article for publication in 1996. It
was called 'By Eck' and described a Yorkshireman's experience of
motorhoming in Germany. The 'Eck' referred to the Deutsches
Eck, the German Corner, where a
gigantic memorial to German Unity stands on the point in Koblenz
(Roman name Confluentes)
where the Mosel meets the Rhine.
In Retirement: Barry
also edited readers' reports on foreign campsites and compiled the
magazine's popular 'Marketplace Products and Publications' section.
In retirement, Barry and his wife Muriel travelled widely in their a
new, specially modified 5-metre 'masterpiece' (his words) from East
Neuk Campervans. Among other things, they completed a 5-month,
4,000-mile (25-ferry) journey in Scotland surveying 160 campsites for
a new edition of the Vicarious Publications 'Seaview Camping Guide'.
Locked
Out? It will be interesting to be
out of the country next April (tempting the fates with that remark)
when we find that our driving licences, insurance, EHIC, vehicle
taxation and registration are no long valid away from our isolated
island. Perhaps we may not even be allowed back in again, once the
right wing of the Tory party have gained what they call 'control'
of the borders.
Relatives
at War. I am familiar with the
background to David's tank war: Le Havre, Nijmegen, Arnhem,
Remagen. Doris's brother Cyril was with the East Riding Regiment in
the first British crossing of the Rhine in March 1945. Her other
brother, Charlie, fought in Burma and took a long time to recover
after his return to the UK. Their father, also Charlie, was gassed in
the trenches in WW1 and died prematurely from the ensuing damage to
his lungs. In WW1 Margaret's dad, Fred, joined up at the age of 15
and survived being shot down over France 2 years later as an observer
in the RFC; in WW2 her mother's brother, Uncle Harold (a lovely
man, I knew him well), served in the RASC in North Africa through
Sicily and Anzio to Rome. After demob he was unemployed for some
time, as cotton mills closed throughout Lancashire.
National
Service. I was in the RAF in Hong
Kong and Michael's in the Army in South Korea illustrate the same
point: he as a private, me as a Junior Technician (one stripe upside
down after trade training). One side starts the salute; the other
side acknowledges it. A salute is very near both physically and
metaphorically to the touching of a forelock.
Two
Kinds of Middle Class. Does
knowledge of each other's lives on either side of the entrenched
class divide bring us any closer? It's not possible, since society
itself and its different levels of power and wealth produce different
kinds and levels of consciousness. Few have the will or the
opportunity to breach this fundamental barrier. The 11+ and its
successors plucked people with IQ's about one standard deviation
above the mean out of the working class in order to produce a
parallel pseudo middle class. These people were needed to help run
large organisations (state and private) and deal with matters
technical. The rewards were material: suburban living, motor cars,
caravans, foreign holidays, etc. Meanwhile, the traditional middle
class runs in parallel, providing the necessary cultural input and
example. It's this artificially induced would-be middle class which
is now diminishing, as the mode of production changes, its cost to
the state becomes too great and Artificial Intelligence takes over at
much less cost to the capitalists.
Belonging.
I certainly know where I belong in all this. In the transport café
rather than the restaurant. Among the descendants of the Anglo Saxons
rather than the Normans. Among the people who went to America and
created their own country, rather than stay and be revolutionaries in
their own. I rather object to having been taken out of where I
belonged among the working class: I, and many more of my kind, might
well have had more influence behind the scenes in left wing politics
where there has for many years been a great void.
Cycling
with Danger. We are near Corbridge
on the Roman Wall having come down from Scotland yesterday over
Carter Bar. Next, we move on to the yard at the back of the bike shop
next to the Lidl in Pickering. The weather is dry but windy, the
country hilly, our spirits adapted to living in the UK for a while
and the motoring public still committed to killing, maiming,
intimidating or just plain scaring cyclists, seemingly unencumbered
by any legal restrictions. Or is this just warfare among the lower
classes?
Passed the Distillery: We
stayed 3 nights on the way down at Newtonmore (south of Aviemore),
where National Cycle Route 7 almost passes the campsite gate. It goes
from Sunderland to Inverness via Glasgow (!) and we cycled 30 miles
of it, on quiet roads or separate cycle paths, along the edge of the
Cairngorms. The Dalwhinnie Distillery we passed was of less interest
than the Newtonmore truckers' grill, with its excellent bacon and
sausage sandwiches.
Camping in Innerleithen. Next we
drove south, across the Firth of Forth on the new motorway brldge
(not even on our satnav), to this site on the bank of the Tweed which
we used on the way up. It's the Tweedside
Caravan Park in Innerleithen near Peebles; no more than 100 yards
from the river although it doesn't form the border at this
point. It has a separate area for gipsies, who are
actually quieter than the locals - at least yesterday, when a Pipe
Band Competition was being held in the town. It's sunnier and warmer
the further south we go, though today it's wet and windy so we
retreated to the campsite bar (the Tow-Bar) to try their Sunday Roast
Lunch of good local lamb.
Cycling
Surprise. Having got reasonably
cycling fit in Greece, we continued riding in the Netherlands and,
surprising to us, when we returned to the UK. This is the first time
we have cycled in this country for many years and it took some
getting used to. So far, we have ridden quite a few miles in the
Yorkshire Wolds, the North York Moors, the Vale of Pickering, the
Northumberland border country, Glencoe and the Isle of Skye.
All's
Well that Ends Well. All our
long-running complaints about the malpractices of various lettings
agents (3) and solicitors (3) over the years have ended well, with us
as winners. More vicariously, we remain involved and concerned with
people writing to us with their Marquis complaints: what a rogue
company that is.
Aussies
in Africa. Lovely to hear that you are still travelling far and
wide, in South Africa this time. Do tell us more about that. Was it a
group tour, and where to, and how safe did it feel? We only went
there once, flying into Cape Town from London and out of Jo'burg to
Sydney. We'd intended to cycle between the two cities but were
severely warned by the police and everyone else that we'd be
murdered, so we left the bikes at a guest house and hired a car to
explore the Great Karoo before taking the train to Jo'burg.
Reflections
from the Isle of Skye. Ever north, via Glencoe to Mallaig and the
ferry to Armadale to visit our Australian friends Bec & Kev, now
living here on their 12-acre croft across the water from Dunvegan
Castle, on an island off an island off the European mainland. The
good weather has given way to Atlantic rain but we can sit at the
window and watch dolphins in the bay, red deer on the hillside and
gannets diving for fish. Skye still maintains its beautiful presence,
despite the great increase in tourist numbers on its narrow roads:
all desperately seeking to actually see the item that topped the
Daily Mail's latest top-ten list of tourist objects in the British
Isles. See and be seen on Facebook, etc. This time it's the 'Fairy
Pools' in Glen Brittle under the glowering volcanic precipices and
rough gabbro rock of the Cuillin Mountains, a million miles from
where Barry used to camp and climb several decades ago.
Walking
on Burning Peat. While getting our Paul Hewitt bikes serviced at
Leyland we camped on a farm at Rivington, right below the Winter Hill
mast on Rivington Moor, with the peat still smouldering under the
blackened heath that was out of bounds.
Difficulties
in Holmfirth. We worked our way up through Yorkshire, including a
couple of nights at Holme Valley Camping while we visited
Huddersfield. The site was busy with a children's camp and Hazel
hasn't altered since we were there years ago; I do find her
difficult. Then on to rediscover favourite places to cycle on the
Yorkshire Wolds and North Yorkshire Moors, until we reached
Northumberland and the Borders.
Estonian
Memories. Many thanks for your greetings from Estonia and the
photo of the Lahemaa Coffeepot, with its good memories of Dieter &
Julia and our visits there.
August
2018 (England
and Scotland)
Remembrance
in Ypres 2006. On a number of earlier journeys, we walked and
cycled in parts of the WW1 battlefront and visited many a
Commonwealth War Graves Commission cemetery: Arras, Cambrai, the
Somme, Ypres as well as Verdun and three visits to Gallipoli. We were
last at Ypres in 2006 on 11 November (a national holiday in Belgium,
France, Australia, New Zealand, Canada and the USA), standing by the
Menin Gate when a band of Scottish Highlanders marched through
playing the pipes. We joined Sonia Gandhi, who was there to lay
wreaths on a memorial to Indian Soldiers who died in Flanders fields.
Last
Post. The local fire brigade buglers still sound the Last Post at
the Menin Gate every evening at 8 pm, a custom that only halted
during WW2.
Remembrance
in Soissons 2011. The town on the
River Aisne was on the front line in WW1 and had been almost
completely destroyed. We joined the citizens in their remembrance
service in the square on the dry crisp morning of 11 November
(Armistice Day – a national holiday in France). Interestingly,
there was no religious or military element to the formal proceedings.
The present Mayor lit the flame of remembrance at the French Memorial
(with an escort from the Fire Brigade!), local dignitaries laid
flowers, the Anciens
Combattants stood to attention
with their flags while a message from President Sarkozy was read, and
the assembled school children sang the Marseillaise,
accompanied by a Police band - a chance for all to join in.
Remembering the British Way: Then,
to our surprise, we were all marched round to the British Monument
for a more emotional ceremony. A senior schoolgirl read a French
translation of John McCrae's poem 'In Flanders Field'. An official
from the CWGC presented a medal to the city and the Mayor thanked him
for the Commission's work. A lone British Army Warrant Officer spoke
the traditional words 'They shall not grow old, as we that are left
grow old. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we shall
remember them' as he laid his wreath of poppies, with a smart salute.
Finally, the French mixed infants (led by their teacher of English)
waved Union Jacks and made a brave attempt at 'God Save the Queen' in
English, including a verse we didn't know. Riding
North.
We worked our way up through Yorkshire, rediscovering favourite
places to cycle on the Yorkshire Wolds and North Yorkshire Moors,
until we reached Northumberland and the Borders. After cycling
round Flodden
Field at
Branxton (sad to see that the house with the concrete menagerie had
been sold and the garden closed) and out to Ford village, we drove on
to visit more places redolent with memories. Ever
North.
Via Glencoe to Mallaig and the ferry to
Armadale (seat of Clan Donald) and on to visit friends living on
their 12-acre croft across the water from Dunvegan Castle. The good
weather has given way to Atlantic rain, but we can sit at the window
and watch dolphins in the bay and red deer on the hillside. Skye
still maintains its beautiful presence, despite the great increase in
tourist numbers on its narrow roads: all desperately seeking to
actually see the item that topped the Daily Mail's latest top-ten
list of tourist objects in the British Isles. Seeing is Believing.
See and be Seen on Facebook, etc. This time it's the 'Fairy
Pools' in Glen Brittle under the glowering volcanic precipices and
rough gabbro rock of the Cuillin Mountains, a million miles from
where Barry used to camp and climb several decades ago. Over
the Sea to Skye.
The bridge has greatly eased access to the Isle of Skye, but a number
of things have caused the increase in tourist numbers. The island is
advertised by the Scottish Tourist Board; Skye provides backgrounds
for other kinds of advertising (eg for cars); it appearing in TV
series (eg the Outlanders) and comes top in the Daily
Mail list of
the ten most romantic places in the UK. The effect of all this has
indeed benefited hotels and B&Bs and the few campsites on the
island: indeed some of these places can be booked for up to a year
ahead. But motorhomes free-camp and few stop long enough to spend any
money!
Echoes
of the 1930's. Brexit is and always was a nightmare. I still
wake up each morning having to re-establish that it is really
happening and not part of the night's wandering images. There must
still be a hope that sanity will prevail, if only at the last minute.
I have read a lot about the rise of the Third Reich, the fall of the
Weimar Republic and the propaganda techniques which have now become
very familiar. The overall idea for the fascists then, and the Tories
now, is to create economic and social chaos out of which the new
Leader can arise as saviour. Although Jacob Rees-Mogg makes an
unlikely Führer, so did a failed painter from Lintz. Now, as then,
there really are no democratic processes to prevent this happening. The
Loch Leven Ride.
Yesterday, camped
at Glencoe,
we enjoyed re-riding the circuit of Loch Leven with the
well-remembered coffee and cakes still waiting at the pub/café in
the tiny settlement of Kinlochleven at the head of the glen. The
circular ride is just 40 km but with enough hills to stretch the
legs. We had a long conversation with two young mountain bikers (they
were drinking pints) who had come from Glencoe by the shorter but
harder route – over the top between glens on part of the West
Highland Way footpath. This was a fascinating comparative study of
bikes, ages, routes and personality! Forgive
and Forget? Evidence
of a Scotland seeking reconciliation, forgiving and forgetting, is
the code for getting into the toilets on this campsite in Glencoe. It
is 1692.
This just happens to be the year of the Glencoe
Massacre that
took place hereabouts when the Campbells, encouraged by the English,
massacred 38 members of the Clan MacDonald. In the village there is a
café/pub with the name 'Glencoe Gathering' which offers free
WiFi – although that's about 326 years too late! From
River to River.
There were many re-awakened memories on this long slow journey north
through Northumberland. The county name literally derives from 'North
Humber Land' or 'Northumbria',
the 300-year-long Anglo-Saxon kingdom which stretched from the Humber
to the Forth. The last king was Eric Bloodaxe: you certainly knew who
was in charge in those days, which is more than can be said now. On
the Border.
Now in Tyndrum after
a couple of nights in Innerleithen on
the Tweed about 5 miles from Peebles. Splendid border country, knee
deep in castles with views of the Cheviots looking as though they
were advancing menacingly into Scotland. Great cycling there on a
former railway line following the river.
The
Plague of Tourists. Rather like the varying plagues of animals in
Australia (rabbits, camels, emus, cane toads, feral cats – and
possums in NZ), what helps to increase their number (good grazing or
plentiful other animals further down the food chain) also helps to
decrease them again as they run out of grazing or other animals. So
with tourists; they invariably spoil (ruin/destroy) the thing that
increased their numbers in the first place and therefore they decline
again, or move on to the next tourist object. Alfred Wainwright knew
all about this.
North
of Pickering. Camped behind a cycle shop opposite the Lidl, we
rode up to Newton-on-Rawcliffe and met the new owner of the White
Swan where we used to camp. To say he was grumpy would be an insult
to that member of the dwarf gang. He was very grumpy
and the pub was clearly not prospering as a result. Across
Newton Dale.
We rode on from Newton and got the bikes down the steep hillside
track to Levisham station (on the Pickering-Whitby
railway)
and up the opposite side (a prolonged 1 in 6) to Levisham village.
There the welcoming Horseshoe pub provided super sandwiches (chicken
and prawn) served with chips and a pot of tea out in their garden.
Later we returned to the station and followed a forest track to Stape
and the beginning of the Roman
road.
On the way to and from the Horseshoe, we passed a gang of young
apprentices from the North York Moors National Park Authority engaged
in spraying the bracken. Full hazard suits and helmets. Very
impressive. Not least, they were trying to reduce the risk of fire. Data
Protection.
Note to a Campsite
in Holmfirth:
'You have passed my name, my email address and the fact that I have
stayed at your campsite to an organisation called 'Campstead'
without my express permission, which I would not give. I also have no
knowledge of 'Campstead' and how secure this data is with them.
How many more times might it be passed on? I advise you that it is
your legal duty to keep personal data secure and not to share it with
any other person or organisation without prior agreement. I gave you
this personal information purely for the purpose of booking into your
campsite and not for any other use. Kindle
Adventures.
Some years ago, I ordered my Kindle
through Amazon.com
when their .co.uk website would not deliver to Greece. This was on
their advice and it turned out that it was coming from the USA. It
took over two weeks to get the package out of Greek Customs who were
treating it with great suspicion. One of the problems was that their
clearance forms were in Greek and needed my VAT number. Eventually I
had to get an Athens courier to get the Kindle from the customs and
deliver it to me down in the Peloponnese. Being in England makes
buying a replacement quite a lot easier.
July
2018 (England)
Being
in England. Apart from lingering over repair issues with the
motorhome (I'm trying a different garage on Monday), we have
strangely and perhaps for the first time become used to being in the
UK again. The cycling is going well; we are enjoying the craic,
particularly up here in the North; we are now staying on our fourth
farm, which is interesting; there are about 175 channels on the TV of
which at least one is watchable at any one time; the shops hold all
that we could ever conceive of needing (and more) and there is
fascination in observing the mainland from this offshore island,
particularly through the eyes of the UK media with its not-so-hidden
agendas, political bias, sins of omission and straightforward lies.
Not least, the meanings of key words ('deal'?) drift and change
with a vagary that suits the fluctuating states of the Brexit
shambles. Takeover.
Is this what it was like in the Weimar
Republic before
a failed Austrian painter grabbed power? The difference is that our
would-be Führers (I am told that there is no 's' on the plural
in the original German, rather like the plural of 'sheep' in
English) are the products of public schools, Oxbridge and PPE! On
Winter Hill.
We are camped
on a sheep farm on
Rivington Moor under Winter Hill near Bolton, recently in the
national news for its fires encroaching on the summit TV mast from
all sides. All access to the moor is still closed since the fire,
extinguished on the surface, is still burning in the peat beds below.
It's possible to actually fall through the surface into a death
that would not need the services of a crematorium.
Greek
Services. Hitherto, there has never been a single problem with
this motorhome in the exactly 4 years we have had it; perhaps the
problem is with the garages rather than the motorhome. Themistocles
Vasilopoulos who owns the garage near the town of Pirgos (= Tower) in
the Greek Peloponnese could fix it in a moment with a smile, a cup of
coffee and half an hour on the parlous state of the Greek and his own
economy. This was illustrated by his daughter, a medical doctor
working in Areopolis (= 'city of Ares', the ancient Greek God of
War) a small town in the southwest Peloponnese, being short even of
bandages so patients had to bring or buy their own. Appropriately,
her practice was under the control of the main hospital in Sparta.
The
Affluent English Working Class. What we learned from this meeting
with a typical generational cross-section of English affluent
working-class life did no more than confirm our success in escaping
its clutches! Lovely people, friendly and very generous with their
food and their time. But what small worlds they live in and
experience, communicating through anecdotes and stories. What was
played out yet again was the gods' (or God's if you prefer) joke
that understanding only flows one way. From the outer to the inner.
From outside to inside. We could understand who they were and why
they were, and how they became that way and how they pass it on to
their children, etc: they couldn't (and didn't) even begin to
reciprocate that process. Our stories, far removed from their lives,
held no interest for them. A
Hierarchy of Knowing.
I don't know what this hierarchy is, but it is one that we become
aware of with increasing frequency. Perhaps Benjamin
S Bloom came
near to it with his cognitive taxonomy. Perhaps it's something
about the way that the brain is structured and then programmed within
different societies and within different levels within a society.
Language and how it is used is part of it. Degree of consciousness is
part of it. Ability to be self-aware is part of it.
Freedom
to Program. I am ever more thankful that my parents didn't
attempt to program me according to their needs,
customs and values. I was left to find my own way into life, a long
slow sometimes random process. Times of tragedy were crucial, not so
much in reshaping me as in helping me realise that the original Barry
was not formed of stone but rather of a substance that could lose its
intended shape and then reform itself. In contemporary parlance I
learned that if existing programs weren't working, there was plenty
of scope for new ones.
A
Modern Miracle. Satnavs give current speed, average speed, fuel
consumption and cost as well as time of arrival, time taken, distance
to go and altitude! Along with this, the thing knows where we are
exactly on its map, and a voice can guide us every step along a
pre-set route, turn by turn, roundabout by roundabout. Maps that
cover the whole of Europe are so good that even cycling in familiar
places, we find new roads and byways on which to ride.
Stunted
Growth. We have been on the road for over 23 years and have
motorhomed throughout Europe, Australia, New Zealand and the USA. We
have experienced the whole motorhome industry grow from almost
nothing (in 1994 we rarely met another motorhomer) to a situation now
where arguably there are too many motorhomes. A parallel development
has been the way that campsites have responded to this growth, from
initially trying to keep up with it and attract motorhomes to almost
giving up in several mainland countries, where much cheaper places
have opened to provide motorhomes with the little they actually need.
This development has been blocked in the UK by draconian laws
restricting motorhomes from parking overnight and maintaining tight
control of campsites and how they can operate. It is very British
that thousands of small campsites can only be used by members of a
club, one of which has the Duke of Edinburgh as its patron! Tribute
to Paul Hewitt Cycles of Leyland.
Many thanks to you and to your staff for the recent service for the
bicycles you made for us 12 years ago. Not only new rims, but a new
chain for me and new chain rings all round. You also completely
rebuilt the braking systems on both wheels of both bikes. They are as
good as new where the key word is smooth – smooth brakes, smooth
gear changes and smooth pedalling with the well-known Paul
Hewitt stability
and efficiency. It now feels as though 100% of the energy we put into
pedalling is translated into forward motion. All this and a good
conversation too.
Hoboes.
Our daily concerns are with food, water, safety, warmth, somewhere
for the night, etc. The situation is summarised in a story we tell of
a meeting with three men sat in a row on the harbour in Galway on a
cool misty morning. One asks us for a pound so that they can have a
cup of tea. By way of explanation he says 'you see, we are hoboes'.
I reply 'so are we, but we can afford it'. Obviously this was
some time ago, a pound would hardly suffice today for one man's
tea, let alone three!
June
2018 (to England via Albania, Montenegro, Croatia,
Bosnia-Herzegovina, Slovenia, Austria, Germany, Netherlands) At
the End of the Road (for now).
We are at the end of a 2,000-mile
motorhome journey from
the Greek Peloponnese, travelling here through Albania, Montenegro,
Bosnia-Herzegovina, Croatia, Slovenia, Austria, Germany and so into
the cyclists' paradise also known as the Netherlands. The
highlights of the journey were rather dim: the lack of a horn driving
in Albanian traffic and the amazing number of Autobahn-widening
schemes in Germany, each producing its very own
kilometres-long Stau (traffic
jam). Such are the excitements of travel. Full
Charge.
Excellent cycling weather and opportunities in the mountains of
Greece have led to a level of fitness that enables us to almost
compete with elderly stout Dutch matrons leading their spouses along
endless fietspads (cycle
paths) - both mounted on heavy upright electric bikes! Under full
sail! However, there are gender-based repercussions
and consequences:
Will
Power. The 'Will of the British People' soldiers on its
solitary, lone and isolated way as the last and only reason for the
continuing Brexit madness. This will was apparently expressed in
ignorance two years ago by 17 million people out of a population of
65 million, or 26%, or a touch over a quarter. Democracy at work
hand-in-hand with a parliament operating as it has done since the
days of Henry VIII.
The
Ugly Face of Nationalism. Conversations with thoughtful Europeans
throughout our travels simply lump the UK with Trump, Poland, Hungary
and now Italy as symptomatic of a rise in nationalism in its crudest
and least-informed form. After 70 years of post-war co-operation and
unification, fragmentation and vilification have been re-awakened.
Countries such as Albania, Montenegro, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Macedonia
and Serbia, keen to join the EU and already benefitting enormously
from EU support, cannot believe that the UK is floundering its
incompetent way towards leaving! Neither can we. Gas.
We have two 11 kg refillable gas (LPG) cylinders in the motorhome,
fitted by Autogas
Leisure of
Thirsk, instead of carrying Calor gas bottles. You can then refill or
top up cheaply and easily at any fuel station with an LPG pump for
cars. It's impossible to refill Calor bottles legally abroad.
Hazards.
As for hazards, one definition is: 'an unknown and unpredictable
phenomenon that causes an event to result one way rather than
another.' This is, of course, at the heart of travelling and only
something to be avoided by holiday-makers and tourists. I once came
up with the aphorism 'Only when you are lost can you find yourself
– in unknown places': a key ambition for the traveller. And so we
go on, while we May (how that word has changed its resonance from
feelings of summer to the shivers of lunacy).
It's
All Relative. Our problems in travelling too often stem from
meetings with our least favourite relative – Aunty Climax. She
greets us on too many corners, at the top of too many hills, on
arrival at too many over-anticipated places, when meeting too many
other people dressed up as travellers!
Wheels.
Paul Hewitt is among the best wheel-builders in the Kingdom. He has a
letter of thanks from Sir Bradley Wiggins CBE for his winning wheels
(I nearly wrote 'winged wheels' the logo of the former Cyclists
Touring Club). The wheels Paul built for us, along with the rest of
our two bikes in the summer of 2007, have remained perfectly true
with no spoke breakage and (co-incidentally) no punctures throughout
their many revolutions. The rims will only be replaced if Paul judges
they have become too worn by brake pads after too many long,
over-heating downhill rides. Behind
the Bar.
We are now staying a night in a rough field behind a bar in this
small village, just a few miles from the motorway that runs almost
the length of Croatia. We've travelled through Albania, Montenegro
and Bosnia so far, and already we can feel the heavy hand of European
capitalism descending on these Balkan lands, with its shock troops in
the tourist business leading their exploitative way. The people of
Dubrovnik, Mostar and Sarajevo must be echoing Pink
Floyd's words:
'Was it for this that daddy died?' Making
Ourselves Heard.
With Slovenia, Austria, Germany and the Netherlands to come, we are
now halfway on a journey of 2,000 miles to Rotterdam from our
starting point in the Peloponnese. The most excitement so far has
come from the motorhome's horn not working when it was most needed,
among the Albanian kamikazes in their window-darkened black
Mercedes! Dick
Lane Motors of
Bradford are on standby for the repair. Back
to Albania.
We are now about 135 miles north of the Greek border, in an Albania
much changed since our first visit in December 2006. At that time we
wrote as we entered the country from Montenegro: “A mile
before Shkodra we
saw the Rozafa fortress at the strategic confluence of the Buna and
Drin Rivers, a site guarded by a fort for 2,500 years. We couldn't
give it the attention it deserved, distracted as we were by a
confused impression of horse-drawn carts shifting haystacks, donkeys
laden with corn, wobbling bicycles, overloaded mopeds, stray
pedestrians, minarets, merchants' stalls, riverside car-washers, and
rows of the little concrete bunkers built by the paranoid
ultra-communist President Enver Hoxha, fearing invasion.” On
the Up.
Now with EU support and German and Italian investment, the country
(Albania)
is rapidly taking on the appearances of a typical Balkan country with
roads fit to drive on. Behind the scenes, however, there is still
great poverty and an absence of young people who have fled south into
Greece or north into the rest of Europe in search of work. English is
the second language and a country keen to join the EU cannot possibly
comprehend a country trying to leave!
May
2018 (Greece) On
a recent ride in the Greek Peloponnese, we cycled from Sparta
climbing the eastern flank of the Taigetos - at over 8,000 ft the
highest mountain in the Peloponnese. We got to 2,800 ft before the
road ended in the tiny, near-deserted mountain hamlet of Anavriti.
Fortunately the kafenion was
open for us as its solitary customers, the only food being ham and
cheese toast or ice cream. We chose the former, a Greek staple, and
'Nes' (a frothy version of instant coffee) along with a jug of
fresh cold spring water. The bicycles joined us on the veranda.
The
View from the Commission. A senior EU official has said: “I am
concerned that if the current debate continues, in three months'
time it will be the EU that will be made responsible for the Brexit
decision. We need the UK to accept the consequences of its own
decisions. To paraphrase 'The Leopard' by Tommaso di Lampedusa, I
have the impression that the UK thinks everything has to change on
the EU's side so that everything can stay the same for the UK.”
Remaining.
If only the Labour Party were ready and able to take over with a
clear-cut and sane approach to simply staying in the European Union.
The UK became the world's fifth richest country after more than 40
years in the EU: what more do the capitalists and (absurdly) their
deluded elderly and unemployed followers want: a risky attempt at
fourth place? Our
Address.
Sparta (where the people are Spartan), Lakonia (where
the people are Laconic), Greece (where the people are definitely
Greek). Holding
the Line. Patton,
Hollywood and the US and UK media treatment of the WW2 is of course
simply part of a successful attempt to delude the populations of
those two countries into nationalistic fantasies. So much so that
even Dunkirk is portrayed as a victory! By the time the Americans
landed in Normandy, with support from Britain, Canada and others, the
war was over. Germany was already defeated by the Russians and was in
full retreat after Stalingrad. The loss of at least 20
million Russian lives is
still felt today. The allies advanced as far as the Elbe and then
stopped, allowing Russia to take Berlin. They then stayed more or
less on that line to stop the Russians advancing any further west
(something helped by the invention of the atomic bomb). That line
became the Iron
Curtain for
the next 45 years.
Holiday-makers come
to Greece in order to escape the country they live in; they come to
get away from work, from stress, from over-crowding, from the
weather. They come to do as little possible, which includes
sun-bathing, eating, drinking, spending saved-up holiday money and
reading airport novels. The watery edges of most southern European
countries are now crowded with them, living the dream promised by the
advertisement they responded to, ready to complain if it becomes a
nightmare. A 'holiday' is just another commodity to be bought and
enjoyed.
Tourists concentrate
on tourist objects, which are many and varied and constantly
increasing in number. Often they travel in groups (by coach or cruise
liner), taking a route pre-planned by the organising company, and
they can be of two kinds: general and specialist. General tourists
will look at and photograph anything put before them, often with
themselves in the foreground (a 'selfie'). If not in a group,
they find that the Lonely Planet and the Rough Guide publications
provide a list of the ten 'must-see' objects nearby. Specialist
tourists focus on particular kinds of tourist objects, often
including tourist activities such as wind-surfing, skiing, kayaking,
mountain biking, hiking, bird-watching, etc. Turning the countryside
into a playground.
Travellers are
few in number. Many people who claim to travel do no more than move
from one tourist object to another. This, regrettably, is the basis
for the majority of motorhome journeys, the main problem being how to
get an unwieldy truck anywhere near the required tourist object –
finding out in advance where you can park and where you can stay the
night. The few long-distance cyclists still on the road are the last
of the true travellers: they travel in order to travel. They
experience the journey - every twist and turn, every up and down,
every change in the road, the vagaries of weather, taking every
opportunity to meet local people, finding places to eat, drink and
sleep. They are independent and will learn something of the language,
culture and history of the country in which they travel. They are the
most likely to find the unknown places, the back streets, the secret
lanes. They know the value of shelter on a rainy day, a cold day, a
hot day, a windy day. Holiday-maker,
Tourist or Traveller? Which
are we? For 30 years the category has been ' independent traveller'
by motorhome and bicycle, supplemented by ferry and rarely by train
or aeroplane. To summarise, holiday-makers don't know where they
have been, tourists see only what they have come to see, while
travellers don't know where they are going or when they will
arrive.
The
Royal Wedding.
How amusing it was to glimpse the nonsense of last Saturday from
Greece, a country that booted out the monarchy many a long year ago –
including the once small but now elderly Greco-German-Danish person
who was expelled from here in 1922, hidden in a fruit box. Now dubbed
the 'Duke of Edinburgh', Originally a member of the House of
Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg, he later took on the
surname of 'Mountbatten', derived from the name of his mother,
Princess Alice of Battenberg where they make some very nice cakes.
Now he is dubbed the 'Duke of Edinburgh as well many
other things.
I hear he married somebody called 'Elizabeth' who was his second
cousin once removed (where to?). Now they have so many offspring they
are running out of titles for them. Perhaps we could suggest some!
Who
Pays the Price? It was seriously embarrassing to know that
all the monarchic nonsense was going on in our name, at our expense,
in association with our nationality, with the Church of England
hovering nearby hoping to pick up some celebrity dust. How much more
international humiliation can Britain take? Answers on a Schengen
Visa.
Up
and Down Again. How pleasant is the burgeoning fitness from the
fine old art of balancing on two wheels up long high hills and then
returning freely to earth with the aid of those mysterious
gravitational forces, craftily stored in the mass of the bicycles'
hidden parts. Turning the potential into the kinetic. And there are
so many hills that have to be mounted, each of unique and increasing
length and height. The
Recollections of an American Friend.
Many thanks for your email and letting us know something of the price
to be paid for entry into Brigadoon (1954).
You really shouldn't take Margaret back beyond the reach of memory
and take me back to days of adolescence, on the verge of serving Her
Majesty in her very own Royal Air Force in her personal Crown Colony
of Hong Kong. So we bid you well on your journey from Brigadoon to
what many people would regard as a Shanrgri La ('Lost Horizon' in
the year of my birth).
April
2018 (Greece)
Testing
Times. There is only one thing that forces us reluctantly back to
England and that is the annual test and certification for the
motorhome. The MOT. All else can be done locally or on the internet
(road tax, insurance, driving licence, servicing, repairs, etc), but
the MOT needs the presence of the motorhome itself and we have to be
on our way. Every country in the European Union has the equivalent of
the MOT, but we must have an English one. The Greek one would be
easier to pass, judging by the state of many of their cars and
trucks!
In
the Sun. The weather here is now surpassing perfect and we seem
incapable of leaving, although an MOT due in June may force us back
to the UK via the Balkans. The cycling has progressed well with some
good rides up into the mountains as we work our way round the
Peloponnese. Our 'brownness' (as well as our fitness) is an
unintended consequence of cycling and (like you) we cannot ever
imagine ourselves actually 'sunbathing'. We are unusual among
motorhomers, caravanners and most suburban dwellers in not having
outside chairs or loungers.
Letter
to a Friend. There is little in this world that is lovelier than
when you write freely and at some length. That same world is the
poorer for your reluctance to do so more frequently and with what
used to be called 'gay abandon', but can no longer be so named. Your
pen is mightier than any sword and should be available to the Jeremy
Corbyn party (another JC, I only just notice). I also notice that
'Corbyn' is underlined by my Google-inspired spell checker. This
means that spells can no longer be cast by anyone of that name. So
where does all that take us? Here
and There – At the Same Time.
On to the subject of Schrodinger's cat. Margaret wants to know if it
was all black with green eyes and capable of eating from two bowls of
different food at the same time (like our Sooty).
Barry thinks of 'black bodies' and the fantasies induced by studying
the effects of rising temperatures on black body radiators. I always
dreamt of having such a radiator, but ours were always Dulux White
Gloss.
Keeping
Warm. As a child we were told ne'er cast a clout till May
be out. We do know who we would like to clout! Explanation: ne'er
cast a cloutsimply means 'never discard your (warm winter)
clothing'; till May be outmeans 'before the end of the
month of May'. Could
we Meet? We
have consulted our old friend, Justin Case, and he advised us to ask
you how long are you staying in Kyparissi –
when do you leave? It would be amazing to meet again after our long
history of friendship. The
Ninth of May is
a Public
Holiday in Russia,
marking the day in 1945 when the Second World War finally reached its
end, a victory almost entirely due to the sacrifices of the people of
the then Soviet Union. It was also doubly celebrated by a Barry who
uses the date to mark his birthday. A
Present from Paddington.
I greet every day as a gift and can think of no way in which I could
have asked or do ask more of life. However, Paddington Bear, our
travelling companion of twenty-eight years (aided by Margaret),
sought to make the day special with a card hand-made by an ex-pat
friend in Methoni, a box of Lidl's Belgian chocolates, a bag of mini
ΣOKOΛATINIA (a Greek dark chocolate speciality) and a crumbly slice
of Sklavenitis's best blue cheese.
Birthday
Lunch.
Margaret joined me in a cycle ride to the nearby town of Zacharo (=
Sugar Town) where she treated me to an open-air lunch of ham and
cheese toasties, potato-flavoured crisps, and a waffle covered in
chocolate and ice cream, all washed down by a double cappuccino with
a small biscuit and cold fresh spring water. All of this is part of
what is known as the Real Mediterranean Diet.
Annual
Events. Here's to the next 584-million-mile journey right around
the sun. You can, if you will, add to that the distance travelled as
the earth spins about its axis. For example, at 45°N (across
Northern Italy), the speed of spin is 733 mph which adds 17,500 miles
every day or about 6.4 million miles annually. This gives a total of
just over 590 million miles (945 million kilometres) in a year. Enjoy
the ride and don't fall off! Keeping
Cool.
The fridge stopped working on mains electric and the problem defeated
the mechanic from Patras, who George Fligos of Ionion
Beach Camping called
in! But the Zampetas
Brothers of
Thessaloniki are brilliant (it's the second time we've been there)
and the fridge was promptly and expertly fixed and serviced. In
November 2014, Zampetas fitted our Carado motorhome with Goldschmitt
rear suspension air bags which have given an excellent ride ever
since. Excellent service and a good place to spend the night. If you
ever need help with a motorhome problem in Greece, they are the best.
Only
the Best. To the Zampetas Brothers: Needless to say, the
refrigerator is working very well indeed, handling this hot weather
with ease. The operation on gas is also greatly improved with the
replacement of the gas jet and the cleaning of the chimney. As the
Americans would say, you went far beyond the call of duty and we very
much appreciate it.
Service
Plus from Zampetas. Added to all you did for us was the pleasure
and knowledge we gained through meeting you. What a fine mind you
have, coupled with an exceptional command of the English language
including the subtleties of its humour. We are experts on the way in
which non-native speakers murder our language (as we would say); you
used it with grace and effectiveness. As we once told our doctor: we
hope not to meet you again any time soon – but if we do it would be
very worthwhile! Which
Way from Ig? We're camped near
the Greek port of Igoumenitsa,
from where we could take an overnight ferry to Italy or drive north
across the Albanian border, only 20 miles away. Before leaving,
though, we plan to take our bikes on the short crossing to Corfu to
cycle there for a day or two. We rode round the island on a half-term
break some 25 years ago, but fear it may have changed somewhat!
Protest.
Last Tuesday we cycled into Igoumenitsa to find that May Day (a
public holiday in Greece) was celebrated by all seven of the Corfu
ferryboats being on strike, tied up in a row for 24 hours in the
harbour. The completely empty vessels were lined up with their
cavernous mouths wide open, their engines dead and the quay deserted.
What strength there still is in a Union movement whose May Day
banners read IMPERIALISTIKO POLEMO or 'Fight the Imperialists'. Greek
Easter.
We're still at Ionion Beach, where it's Easter
Sunday and
nice and sunny. George and Theo have each hosted separate roast lamb
feasts, with 3 lambs apiece! Their parents and all the campers
attended George's party, which went well with the usual meat, salads
and chips and plenty to drink. At
Ionion Beach Camping.
Work went on like crazy on the campsite for
the past three weeks to get the restaurant extension, gardens and
pool ready to open in time for Easter. Anything that didn't move has
been painted blue and white.
Caravan
vs Motorhome. For touring and holidays in the UK and the nearby
mainland, a caravan is ideal, with the great advantage of a separate
vehicle and more spacious living quarters. However, for long-term
long-distance travel including the depths of winter, we found the
need to find a campsite every time we moved too restrictive. With a
motorhome, you can stop on Aires in countries like France, Germany
and Italy, sometimes with hook-ups and other facilities. They do not
usually accommodate caravans.
Sleeping on the Road. Motorhomes
can also park overnight in a variety of places (harbours, car parks,
etc) for free. This is not just about saving money, it is about
availability. More and more campsites close in winter and it can be
difficult to find a place suitable for a caravan out of season. There
is also the issue of safety and security. In a motorhome, if you park
overnight you can quickly move on if necessary, whereas in a caravan
you have to exit and get in the tow-vehicle.
On the Rack. For
local transport, we carry our bicycles in the motorhome 'garage' (and
we used to carry a small motorbike on a rear rack). Occasionally we
leave the motorhome on a site and hire a car, as we recently did in
Greece. The Motorhome Wins. In
the end, there are pros and cons either way; it's a matter of
personal choice but the motorhome will carry more weight, which is an
issue for long-term travel. For example, we can carry 125 litres of
fresh water, 100 litres of waste water, 22
kg of LPG refillable at
many service stations, 120-watts of photo-voltaic cells on the roof
and two large capacity 12-volt batteries in addition to the engine
battery. Ideal for long-distance independent travel.
Greek
Light and a Scottish Bike.
The light here in Greece is a photographer's delight. A friend in the
Scottish Isle of Bute gets out on the West Island Way in Bute on a
bike that looks like a Thorn
with Rohloff
gears, just right for the terrain.
How
Long? The end of March marked the end of 23 years on the
road, without a day off. Will we make it 25? Does it matter? It has
been a great and probably undeserved gift that we have such a
generous phase between the duties and responsibilities of work and
whatever follows this full involvement in the world. Held
by Greece.
The country holds us in its thrall as it always does. We are its
willing captives, unwilling to pay the price of escape to colder
climes. One of many splendid aspects of life here is that the Greek
people we meet (most recently the woman running our favourite bakery
and spinach pie shop in nearby Vartholomio),
understand our love for their country. They share it and we can agree
on the word 'magical'. They also invoke the gods, noting the lower
case 'g' and the plural 's'. Of course, it takes more than one god to
bestow and maintain so many gifts!
Staying
for Easter. April is here, camping on board the ferries to Italy
has begun, but the Greek Easter is this weekend and so we must stay
for that. Lamb roasted over an open fire and a candle lit at midnight
from a flame carried from Jerusalem's Church of the Holy Sepulchre
cannot be sacrificed for a Lidl chocolate rabbit (the only sign here
of the Western Easter). And then perhaps we will drive north,
eschewing the ferry in favour of a different route through the
Balkans. An
Island to the West.
This campsite is opposite the lovely island of Zakynthos (10
miles off-shore), behind which the sun douses itself every evening.
We haven't been across for several years and now it's probably best
to go off-season. We once asked a Greek friend in Finikounda if she'd
ever been abroad. 'Just once' she said 'on holiday to Zakynthos'. She
didn't like it, it was full of foreigners.
March
2018 (Greece)
How
far? In purely numerical terms, we have travelled 41,857
miles in the 1,337 days since we bought the current motorhome. This
is an average of 31.3 miles or less than one hour per day and about
11,500 miles per year. Well below the average for the typical British
motorist in their car. If time were so simply apportioned, that would
leave 23 hours per day for other activities, including 'reflection'.
But life on the road is not like this; it is the last place to find
the values and strictures of the capitalist workplace where time is
measured in money, profit and output!
Travel in
its purest (and least practised) form is so much more than 'driving',
'cycling' and coping with 'hazards' along the way. Travel is an
immersion in a multi-dimensional world which contains an amalgam of
what the school books divide into separate 'subjects': history,
language, geography, politics, climate, agriculture, economics,
politics, literature, computing, on and on. They all exist but only
within one entity. The vastness of the planet and its place in the
solar system and beyond exists for the traveller regardless of which
particular place is occupied at a given moment. The physical
realities of the earth's rotation exist as much more than 'days' on a
calendar; the seasons much more than the passing of years; the moon
and the stars an ever present but changing accompaniment, not just
something occasionally noticed in passing; gravity felt in every rise
and fall of the ground; the wind a fickle friend or enemy ever-ready
to change its strength or its direction; every sound heard on a quiet
night, every other human being greeted as a potential friend (or
foe), every dog classified as friend or enemy . . and so it
goes on, every day, perhaps every hour. For the traveller there is
also the drama of borders, the sudden transitions of language, dress,
religion, architecture, rules, customs, currency. The feeling of
returning to infant school when faced with a whole new alphabet to be
painfully learnt. This is all a small part of what travel actually
is.
Ever Ready. The possibilities of what might happen
next are infinitely variable, because in travel there is openness to
what may be, to what could be. Travel is no more than being available
for new experiences; always connected into a network of existing
experience whilst leaving open the possibility of future experience.
Never a closing down, always new learning. Each new journey continues
every previous journey, and may well cross previous tracks, but each
to be experienced anew.
Animals.
Some people travel with a dog, although it doesn't go well with
cycling and cyclists attract attention enough from other people's
dogs. Sadly we can't travel with a cat; that will have to wait until
we finally settle into a bungalow at the end of some suburban
cul-de-sac!
The
Greek Easter Anticipated. This year the Greek Orthodox Easter
isn't until next weekend when there will be great celebrations, both
religious and social. This will be the time for families to be
reunited, an important occasion when so many young people have left
their native place to find work in the big cities or even in other
European countries. Late on Saturday, 7 April churches will be filled
with people standing outside and at midnight the church lights are
turned off, and to cries of 'Christos Anesti'(Christ is Risen)
a single flame lit by the officiating priest will be passed from
candle to candle held by each member of the congregation. The flames
will be carried home, used to form a smoky cross above the family
threshold and then to light the fire which will later roast a whole
lamb (or goat) for Easter Sunday lunch. And so a single flame, lit in
Jerusalem at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, finds its way into the
heart of every family home.
The
Greek Lent. For many Greek people, this Easter Sunday feast will
mark the end of their Lentern fast when all but bloodless creatures
(octopus, squid, cuttlefish) were to be eschewed (that is, not
chewed!) Lent began with a carnival in every town and most villages,
making real its meaning from the Latin carne + vale =
'farewell to flesh'.
The
Catholic Easter. Meanwhile, at what the Greeks call the 'Catholic
Easter' (Protestantism is a very remote concept here), it is sad to
see another religious festival taken over by commercial and
commodity-led interests, rather like Christmas, Saint Valentine's
Day, and Halloween superseding All Saints Day. Although we will miss
our chocolate egg this weekend!
On
Leaving the Apartment. We leave this abode this afternoon, with a
parting gift of a sack of freshly picked oranges, mandarins and
grapefruit from the orchards of the apartment's owners, Kostas and
Iris. Whatever a Greek wants or needs, they have a 'cousin' to supply
it. That probably stretches as far as treating allergies and
ailments. Either that, or you have to slip somebody some rupees (our
generic term for any foreign currency).
Greek
Cats. Too many abandoned cats run free in Greece, free to roam
and free to add to their own numbers. We call them 'feral cats', the
Greeks call them 'trash cats' because they live off the overflowing
rubbish bins that too often line the streets. There are organisations
that care for, feed and neuter the cats, organisations usually led by
expatriate German, Dutch or English women, not forgetting Zoe, the
gentle Greek dentist in Methoni, who houses 96 felines! Sooty. A
winter break in the Finikounda apartment was long enough to adopt our
own cat – a young black one we called Sooty.
He only understood Greek but didn't seem to mind what his name was
providing we fed him. In return, he would come in and sleep on our
settee. The landlords Kostas (Greek, obviously) and his partner Iris
(German, also obvious were you to meet her) fed and cared for pet
cats, seven of them, although extra guest cats were always welcome.
Iris even drove around the village every morning feeding the
semi-feral 'trash cats'. Young Sooty grew splendidly during the 3
months that he shared our temporary home, his delightful character
shining through the photographs we took.
Other Sootys. We
do miss that place - especially Sooty - but we
couldn't take him on the road and he has now joined Iris's gang. He
was, of course, named after M's favourite childhood bear, who was
found at the end of Blackpool pier the year before her birth. She
even saw the Sooty Show 'live' in Southport, a memory rivalling that
of Ken Dodd's starring performance at the Blackpool Opera House every
season.
Medicine
for the Motorhome. After a night up at Mistraki, we drove north
to ask our good friend Themis Vasilopoulos at the Ford garage near
Pylos why the motorhome engine was protesting after its 3-month rest.
He quickly prescribed a shot of 'medicine' to counteract the microbes
in bio-diesel (yes really) and it did the trick!
George
Never Stops. Having come that far north we continued to our
favourite Greek campsite at Ionion Beach for a few days - and here we
remain, seduced by ultra-modern heated facilities and good WiFi.
George's work team are busy on yet another round of projects
(enlarging the restaurant, enclosing the BBQ area, adding another
pool-side café, creating some supersized pitches and planning an
indoor storage shed for the boats and vans that are left on-site all
year) - to mention but a few! Swops.
A lone English woman, Anne, was here in her campervan for a few days
and swapped 100 Yorkshire tea bags and a dozen Oxo cubes for a jar of
M's marmalade - a good deal, they grow great tea in Yorkshire! She's
from Holmfirth ('Last of the Summer Wine' country). Just heard from
her at Camping
Thines. Rain
and Snow in most of Europe.
Greece, on the other hand, has been milder than usual over the
winter, always in double figures Celsius. The worst was a few wet and
windy days when the stream
floodedour
lane in Finikounda but it soon evaporates and now it's officially
Spring. On 27 Feb we saw the first Hoopoe in the trees, back from
Africa, and the toads and terrapins in said stream have come out of
hibernation already. In the north of the country there has been some
snow along the mountainous borders with Macedonia and Bulgaria,
causing alarm and despondency as they are unprepared for it, with no
money for road clearing and such. But here at Ionion Beach Camping
(next to Camping Aginara) the weather is warming up, the sun has some
heat in it, spring flowers have sprung and it's time to get back on
the road before we start to take root. We'll probably travel around
the Peloponnese before heading north and west – certainly not in a
hurry to drive north! Memories
of Sicily and California.
We cannot say that we remember those days together in Sicily and in
San Rafael - because we could never forget them! They were very
special days that stand out in our life of travel: days with you and
Dick and Sally. Unforgettable also is the week we spent with you
in San
Rafaeland
the day we spent with Paget, cycling together up and down the hills
of San Francisco. The
Man with the Tickling Stick.
Margaret was sad to hear of Ken
Dodd's demise,
with fond childhood memories of seeing him fill the Blackpool Opera
House with laughter as he turned on the audience, and flood the town
with light when he turned on the illuminations. Hard to explain his
appeal to a logical Barry ('what do you mean, on a beautiful day why
would he want to put a cucumber through the vicar's letter box …?')
– you just had to be there when the laughter began before the end
of the joke. As the night wore on, Ken would announce the times that
folk from Fleetwood, or wherever, should leave or risk missing the
last tram! Posh people from Lytham St Anne's with a car (not us)
could stay till they dragged him off stage well after midnight. Tory
vs the Rest.
Many thanks too for your telling depiction of the Andrew
Marr Show with
Boris and the Russian Ambassador. All the front line of the Tory
Party continue to look worn, tired, dispirited and no match for the
sane and well-informed line up in the EU Commission, Parliament and
Council. It is not just the Russians who poke fun at us; we have
become a joke throughout mainland Europe, even in Greece. Partly for
the idea of Brexit itself, but now mainly for the sheer incompetence
with which the negotiations are being handled by a line-up of idiots.
20 and more months after the referendum no-one yet knows what the
leavers were voting for. And how did 17 million voters get to
'express the will' of 65 million people?
Joke.
Did you hear about the mathematician who's afraid of negative
numbers? He will stop at nothing to avoid them.
In
the Interim. The weather is good with temperatures in the lower
twenties and heating no longer required in the motorhome. In this
period between Carnival and Easter (aka Lent) the Greeks are at their
happiest with the olive and citrus harvests complete, the resulting
money under the mattress and an Easter feast in the planning. And not
a tourist in sight, which means that we are more than welcome.
Friendship.
The meetings of travellers produce a different kind of friendship.
Perhaps only travellers understand each other. Five
Websites. Each
website has
its own stories to tell, its own purpose and its own structure. None
of them have any commercial connections of any kind and they are free
to use without the need for registration or creating a silly username
and fictitious email address. And no precious time is wasted getting
annoyed with group warfare within a so-called forum, because there
aren't any.
Post-Brexit
Woes. If we think that vehicle insurance is a problem now, wait
until after 'Brexit', if that actually happens. It's just dawning on
this excuse for a government what an impossible task they have taken
on. It's not that it won't be done, rather that it can't be done.
That's why they are leaving Mrs May to do it, more or less on her
own. Motorhome insurance, already quite restricted, is one of the
hundreds if not thousands of connections to mainland countries that
are going to have to be disconnected and then reconnected in a less
favourable way.
Googling.
We have never actively promoted the MagBazTravels website, although
there are regular emails from people who could improve our Google
rankings and hits, or offer us money for advertising. The idea of
being totally non-commercial is very attractive. We have a loyal
following and are often accused of being 'inspirational' by
newcomers, partly because we were very early into cycling and
motorhoming in Eastern Europe when that first opened up. We set an
example of what was possible with a converted van on limited means in
retirement. We also focus on 'how you could do it' rather than the
'look at us doing it' favoured by people on ego trips.
Retirement
as Transition. Our websites have enabled us to get to know and
keep in touch with a wide range of people, some of them going through
the major transition of retirement. Travel and motorhoming appeal
only to certain kinds of people, who also sometimes turn out to be
our sort of person. In the old days we could meet long-distance
cyclists along the road with bags strapped all over their bikes and
immediately feel like old friends. All of them: they were
self-selected but now they are an endangered species.
Coherence.
Travel is what we do and writing about it and taking photographs of
it are just a part of it, not separate things to fit in. One of the
attractions is that it is a coherent way of life; all the parts join
together within one overall theme: the journey, the places, the
people, the country, the food, the language, the currency, the
history, the experiences, the problems, the weather, the walking, the
cycling, etc. It's a life where the physical, the intellectual and
the emotional all play a part and don't become fragmented or
disjointed. There is also the stimulation of constant diversity and
change.
February
2018 (Greece)
Buying
a Car the Greek Way. Our landlord, Kostas, is trying to buy a
second-hand car in Germany to replace the well-used BMW he got
second-hand 25 years ago. It takes up to 2 weeks to get the money
authorised by the banks and by other authorities before it can be
spent outside the country. Not least, and to his great indignation,
he has to prove to the Greek and German governments that he is 'not a
Pakistani' in his words (to the Greeks, all migrants are
'Pakistanis'). This proof is needed because apparently too many
'Pakistanis' have already gone to Germany from Greece.
Greek-English-German.
Kostas is an economics graduate who studied for two years in Germany
and whose English, although adequate, is peppered with German words
for which Margaret gives him the English. Makes for interesting
conversation.
The
Greek Carnival. The Greeks have just started their 6-week run up
to Easter, which this year is a week after the non-Orthodox
(unorthodox?) one. Their Carnival was last weekend followed by Clean
Monday when they (supposedly) give up meat until their Easter Sunday
when they roast a whole lamb (or goat). 'Carnival' comes from the
Italian 'carne levare' – to remove meat, or the earlier
Latin 'carne vale' – farewell to meat. For the
Greek 'meat' doesn't include 'bloodless creatures' such as octopus
and squid, so that's all right. ACSI
Discounted Campsites.
We always buy and use the 2-volume Camping Card ACSI book, which
quickly pays for itself. The 2018 edition contains 39 sites in Greece
that give low season discount with the card, along with their opening
dates and other details. Of course, it's also useful for the other
3,291 sites in a further 20 countries of Europe. Available directly
from ACSI as
well as from Vicarious
Books (whose
proprietors Chris and Meli we first met in Greece!) Free
Camping in Greece.
Not much has changed in Greece for motorhomers in recent years
(except the price of fuel) and wild camping (which we prefer to call
overnight parking) is not a problem as long as it is discreet (not
next to a campsite that is open!) Harbours and museum car parks are
favourite spots, as well as places where you might take an evening
meal. There are very few official Camperstops, though there is an
excellent one (Afrodite's
Waters)
in walking distance of Ancient Corinth for a small charge. Maps
of Greece.
The best maps are the reliable Road & Tourist Maps published
by Road
Cartography.
We are currently using the one for the Peloponnese, scale 1:200,000,
cost 7.95 Euros. Don't know if they are available in the UK, we buy
them once we are here at a good bookshop or motorway services. We
have found other maps unreliable, often out of date and not showing
new motorways. The road atlas we innocently bought in Igoumenitsa the
first time we arrived in Greece (over 20 years ago) had several pages
missing. When we took it back, we found that the whole stock was the
same! But that is the charm of the country ...?
These
days, we also use our Garmin SatNav but would never be without a
back-up map. Our best advice is don't plan too far ahead, in too much
detail, just enjoy the ride. And bring enough LPG to last, unless you
have refillable bottles!
Mass
Tourism. It's very interesting to read your almost inevitable
conclusions about visiting Iceland, the only country in the whole of
Europe that we have never set foot on. It seems it will remain so.
Mass tourism indeed kills the very thing that was marketed. We
remember seeing an advert for Ireland 'Come and drive on our empty
roads'. Here at the foot of the Peloponnese, at least, they remain
empty and are wonderful for winter cycling. Thank goodness that the
threat of earthquakes prevents any of the high-rise buildings that
transformed the fishing villages along the south coasts of Portugal
and Spain. The
Physical and the Social Worlds.
We are reminded of reading DH Lawrence's 'The
Boy in the Bush'
many years ago. For the first time a clear distinction is drawn
between the physical world in which we actually live and the social
world in which people live only as an illusion, a simulation to which
they have been assigned. The former we can contact through the
senses, interpreted by experience and mental awareness; the latter is
given to people by their place in a particular society at a
particular time. You illustrate how people living in a purely social
world can completely eliminate from their awareness the physical
world in which they unknowingly exist. Instead they have to act out
the roles they have been given, remorselessly,
relentlessly.
Capitalism
Dominates the Social World.
It exploits and exacerbates the effects of the social world by
attaching to it many competitive values, reducing almost everything
to commodities. We assumed initially that by travelling we would meet
other travellers seeking a life within the physical world of the
body, the senses, the mind and the rich life of the planet on which
we find ourselves; building and using a language appropriate to our
situation as highly evolved primates. We were to be and to remain
disappointed; There are a few people in a small group that is an
exception to the socialised norm: exceptional people. People lost in
the social world are truly lost; people lost in the physical world
welcome the opportunity to discover something new!
Physical
vs Social. This is a simple dichotomy but making the distinction
does have a considerable explanatory power. Not least, the physical
world holds no values or judgements. Margaret recently came across
the following verse:
'There
is pleasure in the pathless woods
There
is rapture in the lonely shore
There
is society where none intrude
By
the deep sea, and music in its roar.' Ironically,
it's from Childe
Harold by
Lord Byron, who as a peer and politician certainly inhabited the
social world!
Writing
while Travelling.
We do sympathise with the slow-going of writing up the details of a
long journey that was so full of experiences. Still filling in the
detail of our 2017 journey from Harwich to Greece, we have just
completed Sweden and Finland on our website. The Baltic Republics and
Eastern Europe remain - but when the sun is shining, walks and
cycling seem to take precedence. At least we are never bored! Planning
for the Baltics.
Our thoughts turn to routes for 2018. Your proposal of the Baltic
Republics followed by Finland (a route we have just travelled in
reverse) is a good one, especially avoiding the capitals insofar as
one can. Tallinn is
indeed ruined by cruise ships, but east along that coast lies the
wonderful Lahemaa National Park and a favourite camperstop at
the Kohvikann
Restaurant at
Palmse. We do agree that reindeer - in fact most animals - are
preferable to many of the human inhabitants of our planet. The
population density of Finland and the Far North suits us all well!
January
2018 (Greece) A
Sculptor in Greece.
We just looked at Colin's
website and
are interested to read about his work, including the 10 years on
Paros. Not least, it is nostalgic to see a quote from the former
Athens News, which we really miss. We used to order it at the local
newsagents when wintering in Greece - and now both paper and
newsagent have folded! It was a real insight into life here. The
Venice Ferry.
We haven't used the Venice
ferry ourselves,
though we have taken ferries to Greece from Ancona, Bari and Brindisi
on many occasions. The Venice one is very popular with motorhomers
from Germany and Austria, so I would advise booking early. We always
find it best to book on the telephone rather than through the
website, to make sure you get the deal you want. Off-season, we
usually just turn up at the port. Kosovo.
We didn't mention Kosovo,
although you did. We haven't been there and no-one has made contact
with us who has been there, although Margaret's nephew was once the
UK ambassador in Kosovo. We know that you are advised to keep away
from the northern part of the country and not try to enter or leave
through Serbia. The mountainous border between Albania and Kosovo is
also said to be an area to keep away from. Balkan
Insurance.
The answer to your question is that you buy 3rd party insurance cover
at the border as you enter each of those three countries. It is a
legal necessity, but you would not want to find out whether or not
you could claim on it. We made a journey from Greece into Macedonia 2
years ago when the Macedonians charged us €55 at the border for the
minimum period of 15 days. They apologised and blamed the UK for not
making reciprocal arrangements. Earlier we have travelled through
Albania, Montenegro and Bosnia-Herzegovina and they all charged at
the border, sometimes appearing to invent a cost. When we entered the
Serbian part of Bosnia (Srbska)
from Montenegro, a man was fetched from a nearby village to give us a
piece of paper written in Cyrillic for €30 for 3 days! Or so he
said. Or appeared to say.
The
Euro is King. In general, carry lots of euros in cash since they
are taken (gratefully) throughout the Balkans and you may find that
you do not need to obtain any local currency. Montenegro uses the
euro for its currency, although it is not part of the EU and
therefore not in the euro zone.
Cash
vs Card. On the matter of bank cards, we agree with your
experience in the UK where there is now little demand for signatures!
In Sweden, they often refuse cash even for the smallest amount and
the card is king. In Greece, they much prefer cash and will often
explain that their bank machine is out of order. What happens to the
cash thereafter is best not asked. Hiring a car here recently, and
needing to provide a credit card as surety for future repairs etc, it
was copied with the equivalent method of brass rubbing, out in the
street, on the bonnet of the car.
Uniformity.
No wonder Australians get a little confused in Europe with its
glorious complexity and diversity. Australia, like the USA has a
similar uniformity of language, culture, currency, religion, creation
myths (concerning their country) etc, etc from coast to coast.
The
Greek Postmaster. Next time we visit his emporium we will send
you reimbursement in the form of a cheque and you can start a new
hobby of collecting Greek stamps - proper sticky ones with a picture
on (and not of a right royal personage). Today's image was of Solon:
Athenian statesman, lawmaker and poet (638 BC – 558 BC). Olives. Almost
a religion down here in Messinia (capital Kalamata), producing the
best oil and the best eating olives in the world. Indeed, the Greek
words for olive (Elia) and oil (Ladi) probably gave the country its
name (Ellada). Everything stops for the olive picking in
November/December (even the postmaster shuts up shop) and each
village has its own oil mill, now working flat out. We were
privileged to watch the olive harvest and then, last week, the oil
production.
The
Greek Christmas I. On Christmas day we cycled to Methoni, the
little town where we were married, and sat outside the café by the
Venetian Castle drinking hot chocolate with nibbles and listening to
the festive music from the bar ('Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it
Snow') - in bright sunshine, wearing shorts! After cycling back
through the hill village of Evangelismos we lunched on delicious
cream of reindeer soup (bought in Finland - how could we?!) and
Margaret's Christmas cake.
The
Greek Christmas II. Festivities here are in fact very low key,
which suits us well. Can't think of anywhere we'd rather be. No cards
or presents - apart from gifts of oranges, mandarins, lemons and
grapefruit, and olive oil from Iris and Kostas (the apartment owners)
from their orchards, and a calendar from Zoe, Margaret's Dentist in
Methoni. All three are involved with the local animal welfare
society, caring for stray cats. We have our own black kitten to care
for (Sooty) and will eventually leave him in good hands. The fruit
supplies us with fresh juice every morning - and plenty over to make
a year's supply of marmalade. Wave
Blessing.
On Saturday (6 Jan) it's the Greek
Wave Blessing ceremony,
so that should make it calmer! We aim to go to Pylos to watch
the morning performance at the harbour when young men dive into the
harbour's chilly waters to retrieve a cross thrown in by an Orthodox
priest. Wisely, the man of God takes the precaution of attaching the
cross to a long ribbon held in his tight grip. Afterwards, we will
have a coffee and maybe go on Gialova if it's fine.
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