Railway Trip

 

Wednesday was supposed to see me once more heading at 100 miles per hour down to Liverpool Street station.  There I would meet another old friend, though not from so far away as the one I met here the week before.  

I was feeling a bit rough, those little virii annoy so, yet I wanted to meet a man I had not seen for a couple of years.  As I prepared I checked the train times, and whether all was well.  The Twitter feed soon informed me off a wee station just outside of town that had a signal problem.  Oh dear.  This meant trains arriving, only one, and that is an hourly service, could only travel slowly, if indeed they travelled at all.  

On top of this, further down the line a train had left a major station on route and come to a halt.  This required workmen to check the train, once moved other workmen had to check the wires overhead, which means switching of the 25,000 volt wire.  There may be blue flashes otherwise.  All this leads to masses of early trains, all the way back to Norwich, being delayed, held, cancelled and sometimes disappearing from the face of the earth.  

So, if a train arrived here in the outer limits it might be late.  Being an emergency there was no bus replacement service.  Normal bus services would not cope with the numbers affected anyway.  All this considered I called and cancelled our meeting, probably in Costa once again (he paying).  

This was annoying, and as I called the broken train moved, but too late for me.  So I missed out on the journey and had no choice but to visit Tesco instead.

As I did so the railway fought to get the trains back on schedule, some cancelled, others early, but all rejoicing in normal service once again.  Except that a man got in front of a train in the other direction thus creating  different blockage that way.  Again delays, slow trains and hold ups. 

A new date has been set, April Fools Day!

St Patrick's Day

 

The Weekend

Nothing I like doing better than forcing myself up early on a Saturday morning to visit Sainsburys.   

I jest.

This however, I had to do as I wished to buy all the heavy stuff in one go.  So, off I hobbled, paid £1 for a trolley, and forced it unwillingly round the shop before the Saturday crowds arrived.  

Arrive they did, but not before I was home again.

As I pushed past women who could not control the trolley as badly as I the price rises in recent weeks caught my eye.  Nans costing £1:25 last week are now £1:50, coffee that was £3:90 not long ago is £4:30, and so on.  The recently arrived manager has moved everything according to shop owners theory and made it difficult to find what is wanted.  I suspect he will be gone soon and the next manager will return everything back to where it began. 

For once the customers were friendlier here than normal, at the checkout the women behind me was laughing as I struggled to get everything out of the trolley.  She followed in similar fashion.  The things one does when the servants have a day off!  

I paid the price willingly, I had my eyes closed at this point, and struggled down the poor condition, sloping pavements back home.  The 10 year old lad who passed in the opposite direction tried hard not to laugh as I began to slide onto the road.  Then followed the struggle to lift the bags out, stop the trolley running away, and after returning the brute, carrying all those bags upstairs and hiding everything.

For some reason I have done nothing else since.

Donald is at it again.  First he declares a war Bibi ordered, then he grumbles about lack of support from the UK, then claims he has won the war and Iran is defenceless.  No he demands the UK and others defend the Gulf for Iran who are defenceless as they are shooting at ships. 

What a mess.  Many military men made clear fighting Iran was a mistake, they are prepared for defence, the US is not prepared for attack on Iran.  Now he is stuck.  This is not helped by the attacks on Israel, which we are not allowed to see, yet have damaged a great deal of Tel Aviv, and possibly has resulted in the death of Bibi Netanyahu.  This of course has yet to be confirmed.

A president who has sex with children, a Russia with those videos of him doing this, an Israeli leader desperate to avoid jail, and we have the recipe for war.  The UK leadership have taken the Israeli cash to obey orders.  Sovereignty I suppose.

The Hidden Ways,

This is a travel book, travelling along roads that no longer exist, or are overtaken by modernisation.

Alistair Moffatt walks along Scotland's 'forgotten roads.  These include the 'Invasion Road.'  This brings us over the Lammermuirs and Cheviot hills following the road developed by Gnaeus Julius Agricola, the then governor of Britain, he thought.  Around the year 78 AD Agricola brought some 10,000 men north, half of them along this road through the hills.  His intention was to conquer the northern arts of the island, and like many who followed him, he would claim success but return home empty.  From Chew through Pennymuir, and over the Tweed at Trimontium and finishing at Lauder, the author attempts to follow what remains of this road.  Few outlines can be discerned on such roads, farming and age wearies them, but occasionally the line can be found and followed, with some objects from a distant past to be found.  Just walking in such a road could be a historical experience in itself.

Many such roads are followed in this book.  The ancient road north of the Tay, the pilgrim road to St Andrews, the 'Herring Road,' where fish would be transported from Dunbar into the hills, often on women's backs, to Lauder and all places in between.

These ancient roads, that arose out of need, now lie still, often untouched by modernity.  They do offer an insight into the lives of those who crossed them, whatever their driving force. Walking while carrying a pack on the back, is indeed hard work.  People had to be tough to survive, and they reveal just how soft we modern people are today.  While we are healthier, they are much fitter and very much stronger.  Sitting around while we travel does not keep us fit.  Working until death did not do much for those of the past either I suppose. 

While claiming to originate from a council estate the author gives clear information as to his now middle class lifestyle.  For instance, 'The Road to Ruin,' a walk down Edinburgh's High Street, the 'Royal Mile,' gives clear indication of where he is now.  As he worked for the Edinburgh Fringe office on the high Street he was close to the long history before him.  He chooses however, to limit what he sees.  While occasional references to rugby are noted in this work when discussing the inset for the 'Heart of Midlothian,' placed where that old building once stood, he deliberately ignores much of Edinburgh. The author mentions the old tale that people would spit on the inset as they passed, remembering the old prison that stood there, purposely ignoring that today no-one remembers that.  Instead they spit because this is the badge of the Heart of Midlothian football club, and other clubs followers spit for childish spite, not because of a long gone prison.  Murrayfield and Scotland's rugby is remembered however.  In my view, and I suggest the view of many others, this weakens his claim to be seeking Scotland's past.  When putting your nation under English rule you are not supporting Scotland.  This devalues the historical aspect of his writing.

The book is however, worth a read.

Saturday Gourmet

Another Saturday improved by Pea Soup.

There is great joy in mashing peas badly, adding double cream to the pot, and then supping it while all around are watching bombs falling in the middle east.  Well, all bar those watching football obviously.

With a mere 10 minutes work, not counting the time I kept forgetting what I was doing, five bowls of the stuff have been prepared.

Tonight I am making a mess of macaroni cheese also.  

Simple foods for simple people.

Liverpool Street Meet

Wednesday morning found me sitting on a quiet Greater Anglia service for London Liverpool Street.  The £25:35 I paid, making use of my old man's ticket, gave me a smooth journey to my destination.

There I met a pink boiled maggot and headed for Costa for coffee (£7:10 for two!)

It has been a year or two since we last met, she coming from Costa, me from the local wilderness, and using Costa for coffee was appropriate.  I always inform people that coffee originated in Costa Rica, hence the company name, some believe me!  

The usual million people thronged around us, though not for us of course.  Trains arrived and trains departed, very smoothly today I must say.  However, one whistle blew at one point and I realised how much I miss hearing a whistle blow when trains depart the station.  They no longer give two sharp whistles as the leave either, and I think this sad really.  The departure time on both trains arrived and we smoothly and quietly began to head for our terminus.  All very efficient today, no hindrances, no leaves on the line slowing us down, no jammed doors, no suicides, no lorries hitting the bridges we cross, all was well.  On our line at least.  

Much renovation and future work in the area and including this station itself.  A great huge, and probably empty, towner block is to be built above it, possibly to launder someone's ill gotten gains.   

The original station is disappearing as we look.

Early pillars holding up the roof are still in place.

And the colossal Great War memorial of Great Eastern Staff who perished one way or another is still well kept, though two police bikes parked at the bottom tended to block the lower memorial items.

With worry for Fly's health I sought a coffee shop inside the station.  I did not wish her to walk too far. I was somewhat surprised, but should not have been, that on leaving she was off on a bus to John Lewis to spend money.  I needed to do the gentleman thing here, so naturally I mentioned my war wound, hobbled away, and let her get on with it.  

The surrounding area gets higher every time I pass here.  What is it with those people who wish to build ridiculous sky scraper office blocks that companies cannot afford to use, and with most people working better from home, do not wish to use?

Some old sights remain, such as this place.  I did not enter, it has a good and filthy reputation but it also has London prices.  I do not work in one of these towering office blocks so I cannot afford to enter.  If I earned their money I would need a security guard to accompany me everywhere.  

I have no intention of mentioning the incident where Fly took her stick, placed the hook in the hood of the young man who bumped into her as he passed , and pulled him under that bus.  The young policewoman, are they not all young today, was very kind and helpful to Fly here.  I wonder if he is still under that bus?

Home, still breathing, and glad to have gone down there,  A good day from my point of view.  I wonder if fly is still in John Lewis's?

The Drowned and the Saved

This is quite a good book if you like sinking in a hurricane force storm.

The story concerns the sinking of two ships, the damage done to two others, and the response of the islanders on Islay.

It is 1918, the war is heading towards its end, and US troops (called 'doughboys' far too often in this book) are crammed into ships crossing the Atlantic.  One, the Tuscania is sunk by U B-77 with a successful torpedo strike in February 1918.  The other is the larger ex-liner Otranto which in a heavy sea was struck by another convoy ship, the Kashmir. 

The Tuscania attempted to lower lifeboats, some went into the sea, others were badly handled by young, inexperienced and frightened crewmen, often on their first voyage.  The gale force winds, rearing seas high and violently did not help the escape pattern.  Eventually a destroyer arrived and with difficulty took many men of the ship.  Others in lifeboats were picked up, sometimes hours later, by trawlers working as minesweepers.  However, in spite of the rescue attempts a great many lifeboats made it to the coast of Islay and were dashed against the rocks.  Smashed lifeboats, raging seas, rocky shore and high cliffs led to many perishing on the coastline.  

On shore the locals rallied round in a rescue attempt.  Some risked their lives in the water hauling men from the waves, others climbed the cliffs to rescue stranded survivors, all took part in reclaiming the bodies washing up on the shore line.

Survivors were tended in farmhouses, school buildings, and sheds.  The local women spent many hours baking scones for the survivors and tending them in their beds.  Locals, who had already lost many men in the fighting in France and Flanders were keen to aid the US wounded lying before them.  It cost the all they had, but they would not ask for recompense.  These islanders knew the sea, and knew the cost of sailing on it in storms.  

Graves were dug in several places and the dead buried in solemn fashion.

During September 1918 another convoy of green US soldiers set sail.  The convoy followed orders by zig-zagging along the route to lessen the opportunity for passing U-Boats.  However, by the time the convoy rounded the north of Ireland with Scotland to the east a gale blew up.  A force 11 gale, that is hurricane force, lifted the seas to 40 feet heights.  Soon the ships in the dark lost what little sight they had of one another and it was up to the experience of the captains to make for their port.  It was not inevitable but accidents were likely, and by misjudging their position one turned to port while the other turned to starboard.  Neither noticed the other until it was too late. 

The Kashmir hit the Otranto midships, cutting a huge V-shaped wedge into her side.  The shock, in such waves was enormous.  The ships were disentangled, the Kashmir then made for her port desperate to avoid her damaged front taking in water.  She survived just.

The Otranto was badly damaged and attempts to lower lifeboats were hindered by inexperience, high seas, and boats turning over in the waves.  Eventually, one destroyer did make a foolhardy attempt to rescue men.  HMS Mounsey, who had seen action at the Battle of Jutland, attempted to come alongside.  The Otranto's mster demanded the Royal Navy back off before losing their ship also, but Lieutenant Craven, the man in charge, replied that he would take survivors or both go down together.

So began a frantic rescue operation in the dark, with high waves, a gale force wind, amid a rescue only a desperate man would attempt.  Craven attempted it.

Eight times he crashed his destroyer into the side of the liner, each time men tried to jump onto the Navy vessel.  Many fell between the ships and were crushed, others made it on board and were grabbed inside by the crew, held on tight to anything nearby, or were washed overboard by the sea.

This mad effort did rescue several hundred men, while others who had got into lifeboats made for the Islay coast.  So, several months after the last disaster Islay folk were once again finding bodies on the shore.  Once again they tended what survivors there were, very few this time, and once again they gave what they had to feed the living and bury the dead.  Some bodies, in dreadful state, did not land for several months.  

Of course once the need was known help came from the mainland eventually.  The second time they were better prepared and supported by the UK and US army.  The US Red Cross provided much support and material, replacing what the locals had lost.  A connection between the Islanders and the USA began that lasted for manty years, survivors returning long after the event to see again the Island people and the severe coastland.  

This is worth reading because of the response of the islanders alone.  They gave all they had to support the men who landed alive.  Such an example of giving that we possibly could not match.  They would have done the same for a German ship also if a submarine had floundered I suspect.  

Well worth a read, but it is harrowing reading during the rescue attempts. 

War in Middle East

The emperor of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1914, commentated on the cheering that arose when war was declared, "They cheer when war begins, but not when the bodies come home."  Now I may have paraphrased that somewhat but the meaning is clear.  I remember the noise in the House of Commons when they debated sending troops to the Falkland Islands, the cry was for blood, and all sides supported it.  None of those present, as far as I know took part in any fighting there.  

Once again, to keep out of court, Bibi Netanyahu has taken Israel and the USA to war, this time with Iran.  Once again Donald Trump has no idea what he is doing, once again we do not know what the outcome will be.  

The huge force gathered by the USA and Israel has failed to remove the Islamic regime.  It appears that as they attacked Iran, using Chinese equipment, jammed the aircraft radars which ensured many were shot down or useless.  The devastation is not one sided, as a well prepared Iran, both militarily leadership wise, is ready for a war in the air, on land and at sea.  Resources are not infinite and Iran is well prepared for the next step.  Donald Trump is not.

Missiles are falling around the middle east, nothing will stop them but negotiation and no-one wants that!   Finger pointing is everywhere, the UK government are awaiting orders from Florida, where Trump is hiding out, and he awaits orders  from Israel and Moscow.  The fact that the man who started the war has run away and hidden himself in Germany surprises some.  He has left his people to take the drones falling around Israel while he sits in a bunker in Germany.  Somewhat ironic I think.  Reports slip out that some US generals are demanding an end before it is too late.  Remember that Cheney and Rumsfeld were wishing to attack Iran and the generals stopped them.  "This is not Iraq," they said.

What now?  

Missiles will fall for a few days more, possibly lessening.  If the attackers withdraw it may end, if not who knows what will happen.  Certainly some will be indicating that scripture, mostly in the old testament, indicates Israel surrounded by enemies before the Hebrews turn en masse to Jesus as Messiah.  They might be right.  If this war continues, China will not be happy as sales will fall as western prices rise.  Oil will not flow from the middle east, plus shipping costs from insuring ships will rise dramatically.  The west will pay the price.  Russia however, will sell oil to India and China happily.  Now we know why Venezuela was so important to Trump.

God is working his purposes out in the middle east, Israel is in the centre, and you and I ought to be seeking our position before this Jesus in case those old testament scripture interpretations are correct.