Thursday, 26 May 2022

Thrush and Sunak

It is the time of the year to look up and listen.  Last night, as I was bemoaning the lack of football on TV, I heard this boy sing.  (It may be female, I don't know)  How wonderful is the sound of a Thrush in the evening, or perhaps a Blackbird, lots of them around here as always.  So far tonight he has not shown up, too early, and the sun is still shining high in the sky.  I suspect he, and his mates, will be seeking the late worms and other beasties that manifest themselves at this time of year.  Walking around today I noticed again the Swifts overhead.  Maybe they were House Martins, but I am sure they are swifts.  They all move to fast to check!
 
 
I saw them when I was returning from 'Poundland' & 'B&M.'  I had gone to stock up on the £1 imitation Daz, and cheap bleach.  However, there were huge gaps in the shelves.  While filled as well as could be expected it was clear stocks were low.  So I left 'Poundland' and went next door to 'B&M' where a similar situation was to be found.  It is clear Brexit and the huge costs, let alone the amount of paperwork, has taken its toll on shops importing all their goods from China.  Another Brexit Dividend I assume?
 

In spite of all the denials, all it took was a report from Sue concerning lots of parties at No 10 to enable the Chancellor to hand out the cash to the needy.  While this is beneficial, I ask, is this the best method?  Certainly this will help many, but for those on benefits how far will £650 go between a family of four, especially if they are not the wisest?  I suppose Boris can now claim to be doing something, however, nobody believes him.
I wonder, if he stood down who would replace him?  The leading lights are lights that are very dim, and no proper leader will wish to take control, especially as the next election will be a disaster for the Tories.  So, step forward Liz Truss!  This is your moment, take control, spend two years being worse than Boris, lose the election and allow a real Conservative to return, if there are any left...
 

Wednesday, 25 May 2022

Responsibility

 
"I take full responsibility for everything that took place on my watch."

He's lying again.

 

Tuesday, 24 May 2022

'Dipper Books'

 
I have begun reading these two, what I call 'Dipper' books.  That is, they are full of short chapters on a variety of different subjects and therefore do not requre long term attention.  Ideal for bathrooms everywhere.
'Reportage Scotland,' was first published in the year 2000, this version in 2005, 'World of Books' tempted me again.  This attempts to give reportage from 'eye witnesses' or as near as possible down through Scotland's History, beginning with Tacitus detailing in 'The Agricola,' the adventures (always successfull) of his father-in-law, Agricola.  Some famous, some notorious I suppose, and many unknown people offer their view on events they see.  
John Knox, the great reformer, gives his view on the death of Cardinal Beaton, a candle-maker in Leslie in Fife writes later to a freind of the problems caused by the bandit Rob Roy, and the 'Caledonian Mercury' of 1778 discusses John Paul Jones, a Scotsman who had joined the American revolution and later founded the navy.  The trial of Burke and Hare, or at least Burke, Hare had turned Kings Evidence and got off, in 1828 is here, as is the 'Edinburgh Evening News' report from 1890 concerning the opening of the Forth Bridge.
I love such books as they give an insight to historical events, important and less so, from the people who were there.  As always there is a need to understand from what perspective they are writing, but I think this is a great book.
'The Modern Explorers' published first in 2013, is slightly newer.  It follows similar short chapter settings where modern explorers speak of the sights seen and endured, as they continue to traverse the earth into places as yet unknown to most of us.  Polar regions, Deserts, Mountains and the like are covered by those brave, or stupid, enough to cross them.
One advantage of such books must be the short chapters.  Any that bore can be dumped and another chosen.  Another advantage is that you can learn something from someone who was there, or maybe near enough.   
 

Monday, 23 May 2022

Nothing to Say

Nothing happened.
Not on Sunday, nor today.
So, nothing to say.
I'm quite glad...


Saturday, 21 May 2022

'Travellers in the Third Reich' by Julia Boyd.

 
 
This is an interesting book.  I must say I read this on 'Kindle,' as it was cheaper that way!  Actual books however, are easier to read as maps and notes can be turned to much easier.  
Kindle however, is ideal for lying on your side in bed while reading.
During the 1930's a wide variety of people passed through Germany.  The country had been a popular holiday resort from long before the Great War, you will remember Jerome K Jerome's second book 'Three Men on the Bummel,' was based on a cycling holiday in Germany.  Even after the conflict many continued to visit a nation they enjoyed.  Some were ex-servicemen seeking reconciliation, some religious feeding hungry children during the 1920's, and there were plenty of them at that time, and others seeking peace during the 30's.  
Once Hitler took control many continued to visit, either because they admired the obvious improvements such as the building of houses for workers, improved work to eradicate unemployment, and the purpose and stability which grew during the 1930's throughout the country.  Those who admired such things tended to downplay or ignore the other side of National Socialism.  Jews, some claimed, got what they deserved, others took a different view and risked all to save Jews and their children, an act which cost them money and could have cost them their lives.
From our perspective it was obvious what was happening, however, for those on the ground, including worldly wise and intelligent people, recognising what was happening around them was not easy.  The devil disguises himself in light and confusion when he operates!  Clearly many did not realise, until 1938, the depth of darkness around them.   
W.E.B. Du Bois, a black American in his 60's loved the country and found himself welcomed across Germany.  An intelligent and wise man yet he found it difficult to understand what was actually happening around him.  Such was the difficulty under the Nazis.  
English women married to Germans had a great deal of freedom, once they proved their Aryan background, and it is surprising how many were found, often working together, in Germany during the war.  A great many foreigners were in the country, usually from Scandanavian or European nations and with a great deal of belief in National Socialism.  Many died in action.  Women suffered the loss of their husbands in action, one decapitated when he was found to be sheltering a refugee (Jew?).  While the men were away they had to rear children, the German woman's job under Nazi rule, and eventually work in factories and fields.    
The impression left is a nation totally under the control of one man.  The belief in him was strong, even after 1943 when it became clear the war was lost.  During Hitler's rise the nation put their trust in him, and those who didn't kept their mouths shut.  Obedience was all, and all obeyed.  This was the situation in the UK also under the war cabinet, however, in the UK complaints were loud and clear, obedience was for the good of the many and all knew it, while a huge number did not obey and rebelled when the stress was too much.  A very different kind of repression to that in Germany.  Belief in Hitler was strong, not always forced, and this allowed him to pacify the nation while building arms and planning to finish the Great War.  
This book aids an understanding of how such control can happen without anyone noticing, and gaining support from the many, in spite of awful things occurring.   I found it entrancing, with the one problem that the author jumps from one person to another making it difficult to keep up with who is who!  Maybe that is just me?
I recommend this book.    
 

Thursday, 19 May 2022

Boris, Met Police,Celebs, Rangers loss

                                                  BBC/Reuters

Once again the Met Police (London) have failed in their duty.  The clearly guilty Prime Minister has avoided the large fines that normal people have suffered for gatherings/parties during lockdown.
Once again the MET have looked to their careers instead of their duty.   
Once again the lying deceitful PM avoids responsibilities.
Anyone surprised at this?

 
The couple who won £184 million on the Lottery have announced themselves as winners.  I myself would never admit to winning large sums of money, though such a stroke of what some call luck has never come my way.  The stories of those who win big are not always pleasant.  Many do well, many survive, some break up, ruin their own and their families lives, and do not enter a period of joy.  This of course does not mean that I would not appreciate the opportunity to have such a large sum at my disposal, but at my age what could I do with it but give it away?  
Large amounts ought to go to younger folks with children and dreams.  My dreams are simple, the trouble spending all that amount would weary me, though the girls in the family would have some ideas what to do with it!  
Possibly the new owners, friends of the Tory Party, would benefit the lower orders by sharing the winnings in a better manner, ensuring more chances to win, not small, but not overlarge either.  
For myself I will remain happily in poverty...  
 

The ladies, Rooney and Vardy, have been filling the papers all week with their days in court.
I ignored them.


Jonny Depp (who he?) and Amber Heard (who she?) have been in court, remain in court, and are filling the world media while in court.
I ignore them.
 
 
Most unfortunate that the Blue Bigots lost on penalties last night.  The wee Welshman who cost £2 million, earns £40,000 a week and could not kick a ball 12 yards past a goalkeeper, cost them the game, and that after 120 minutes of duff football.  Most unfortunate...
Tee Hee...
 

Wednesday, 18 May 2022

Brexit and Gay Brownshirts


The Brexit dividend is with us, says the man from the Bank of England, £444 million a week it is costing the UK!  Money just trundles away from us, and leaves many asking "Where is the £350 million a week saved for the NHS?"  No answer is the reply.
One Tory MP claims people can make a meal for 30 pence, another says if you want more money work more hours, or get a second job.  She herself is on £84,000 plus £200,000 expenses, and whatever 'other job' she has.  Today Labour demanded a 'windfall tax' on energy companies, Boris muttered something and ignored the question.  No change there.  Someone asked me "Is this the worst government you can remember?"  "Yes!" is the reply.  All those bad governments, including Thatcher, were better than this. At least Thatcher would not leave the EU just to keep her job.


More 'Stonewall' love abounding I note.  An 18 year old at a private school questioned the 'Trans' ideology being pushed by the school.  She was hounded out by other girls, the teachers doing nothing but claiming she was upsetting the majority.  This school has many visits from Stonewall.  
Police, Fire and their leaders met at a conference this week to encourage integration of gays and trans.
They said nothing about integrating victims of crime, foreigners, elderly or disabled, but only the Stonewall favourites.  I wonder why?
Why are such people involved in events like this?  Do they not deal with individuals as individuals?  Or do the police and fire require special preparation for their job?  Saying this I have just noticed a special 50p coin has been produced for gays!  Why?  
There is also a row as some African players, Muslim or Christian, will not wear shirts dedicated to gays.  Some object to this stand, especially as one player in Blackpool has announced he is gay.  For some reason this makes him a hero.  Fail to develop normally and be praised.  What a strange world.
Opposition to those who disagree with the gay life is growing throughout the nation.  It has become accepted that being trans or gay is normal, when it clearly is not.  Those who claim such people are being their 'true selves' are wrong.  This is a broken person, like the rest of us, and only Jesus can heal and make us whole.  Encouraging people to live a false life destroys them, and society.  Browbeating opponents will never work, gay Brownshirts will come to a bad end soon.


       

Sunday, 15 May 2022

Sting!

 
At ten minutes to four this morning, while I was enjoying a dream, I felt something irked my head.  Naturally, I reached up and removed said item.  Then my head began to irk somewhat.  A sharp pain radiated from next to my eye, I felt a slight bump, switched on the light, and found a large Bumble Bee crawling hesitatingly across the floor.  
It's four in the morning!  
I found a slight spot near my eye, slightly swelling, rubbed ice on it for a minute and went back to bed, the dying Bee now stuttering along the floor next to the cupboards.  Nothing to do now, so back to sleep which eventually returned.  
Why is it, that if you awake around three or four in the morning it takes an hour and a half to get back to sleep?  Why not just return to repose?  
Very annoying.
Tonight, having searched for the beast I found him on the bed, near the window.  I placed him on the window ledge, left sugared water near him, watched him drink and have left him to it.  Whether he can make it I know not, but as he is still under the window that soon I must close he is certainly going to have to move again, and not indoors.
I looked up Bumble Bees in an effort to learn more and now I am confused.  There are so many and I do not know which one this is!  There are so many that even the experts require DNA to be sure about some of them.  
I do know that because of the increase in pesticide use, and this government has allowed such things to continue, Bees, without which we cannot survive, are threatened.  Doesn't it make you wonder why we vote for such people?  
 
 

Saturday, 14 May 2022

Baked Beans and Protests

 
 
It must come as no surprise to anyone that supermarkets are ripping off the poorest.  I bought two bottles of 'Hubbards Brown sauce,' Sainsburys perfectly acceptable 'own brand' sauce, the other day and noticed it now cost 54p.  Not that long ago this cost 44p, then rose to 48p.  This rise has nothing to do with Brexit!  I did not check the beans this time but I expect to pay more for them also.  
You may remember 2008, a year when Rishi Sunak and his like gambled with the word economy, broke a Dutch Bank and enriched themselves while we all suffered.  Beans at both Tesco and Sainburys then cost 9 pence a tin, overnight these increased to 20 pence a tin, a profit of 11p.  Considering how many   tins of beans would be sold throughout the UK at both shops you can imagine the profit made.  Today we see similar rip-offs from the poorest, those who now turn to 'Home Store' products rather than expensive and not always better, branded goods.  
Brexit has certainly made prices rise among the many other problems it has caused.  Is it, I ask, a good thing for supermarkets, who made a killing from the Covid pandemic, to raise prices on the goods many will now turn to?  
I wonder, would it have been a better idea to lower such prices and bring in the customer?  Such a price war might be too costly for these giant companies who tell us what to eat.  Possibly their shareholders would not appreciate the kindness to those whom they do not belong amongst?  
The Tory MP who claimed it was possible to make a meal for 30 pence, the one who has claimed almost £200,000 on expences, has anyone worked out how to make such a meal?  Take away the cost of electric or gas, even then a sandwich would cost more than 30p to create!  
 
 
Comments from Conservative MPs like that have never been lacking, the difference today is that in the past these were odd-bods on the back benches and a few catcalls quieted them down.  Today however, such comments are not opposed, many loudly offer support, and the man in the street appears totally uninterested in doing something about it.
"When I was a lad..." as they say, we wanted a fairer world.  'Make Love, not war,' was a common cry, though 'Make Tea, not love,' was more common.  Maybe it was different with you?   We wanted to change the world for the better.   Programmes like 'Cathy Come Home,' which concerned a woman losing her home, her husband and her children because of the housing crisis, had a powerful effect on the nation, today such programmes either do not exist or are replaced by women's porn or soap operas.  Our generation wished to end war and make the world better.  Charities abounded, protests also, change for the better was demanded.  What protests exist now?  The 'right' to murder a child in abortion perhaps?  The 'right' to consider you are born in the wrong body?  The 'right' to be what you have decided you are, want to be, or just want, is now what matters.  
Concern for others, improving the world for the better, re housing, hospitals, ending war, seeking a better world, are all pushed aside for the individuals desires.  
There are no protests in the streets regarding government corruption.  No protests today demanding Brexit being ended.  No protests regarding a lying cowardly crooked Prime Minister.  No protests filling the streets regarding Priti Patels migrant policy.  
Nothing.  
Indeed looking at the recent local election results it is clear many still vote willingly for this government in spite of what it is doing to them!   While many have risen up to oppose not enough will appear come a general election and depose this government.  This when today we hear the Chancellor claim he cannot increase aid to those suffering for the cost of living as 'Due to a technical problem, the computers cannot deal with this!'  Such blatant lying, accompanied with a Patel like smirk, even yet does not cause the people to rouse themselves, rise up and demand change.
What is going on in the nation?
 

Thursday, 12 May 2022

A Trip to Waterstones

 
Decided this morning to take action against the 'stir crazy' feeling that has developed around here.  I checked the bus times online, decided I was going to miss the 10:09 so noticing there was a different bus at 10:24 strode manfully for that.  It was not to be found.  Instead the No 70 I was looking for is now a No 370.  The 42B at 10:24 no longer appears to exist, according to the timetable on the shelter at the new bus station at any rate, so 370 it was to be.  
The screen informed me the next 370 would be along in 9 minutes.
I believed them.  
I was right to do so, 9 minutes later the bus pulled into the bay, the wrong bay, but into a bay.  Not quite the 'Zimmer' bus as of old I note this one.  This lot were more the ten different coloured pills a day lot I think.  Anyway, we clambered aboard and slowly the bus made its way out of the terminus and wound round a new route to the far off city. 
 
 
It being almost three years since I last ventured out this way I was as happy as a kid going on holiday.  I expected to see change, and change there was.  Many new housing developments have arisen.  With a Tory controlled council it is no suprise to note these are all houses costing from £400,000 and rising, so as to bring in more Tory voters.  I must admit a sense of growing discontent about this.  Not that I can ever buy, but to purchase a one bed flat here requires about £18,000 deposit, and even then the mortgage people may not accept you.  An actual cheap house may be found at the £300,000 mark, but unless you have one to sell, who can afford this?  
 

Fifty or so minutes later we landed in town and I hastened slowly towards the Cathedral.  There is nothing much else but shops in this town, and I wanted only one of them.  I actually wished to look at the bookstall in here, and on this quiet  day I found a lack of books, a mere smattering on the shelves.  The Diocese office keeps the best ones in their bookshop.  I was not going there.
 

I sat opposite this window, much brighter in reality than in this poor picture, the first time I have really noticed it.   Somewhat Victorian to me.  Just looking at it now I noticed a wee man high up on the left side.  A closer look indicates this is Andrew, according to the cross he holds, and maybe next time I am in I will look again, and with the better camera.  
I departed soon after I had mused sufficiently, hesitating when mistaken for an employee by a young lady entering the building.  Have I sunk so low I actually look like an Anglican now?
 
 
Waterstones was the shop I was heading to.  Here, my £20 gift voucher in hand, I perused each shelf, each table, and almost the Costa coffee shop before I noticed the prices, and, eventually making my purchase and discovering I had £10 on my Waterstones card also.  This I will keep until the next time, probably next week and visit the Camoludunum shop.  


In spite of the masses of books available I was a bit disappointed.  None of them jumped out at me this time, however, after wandering around, almost shoving an unwilling to move woman from one table, and stopping a more polite one from moving at another, I managed to find three books to bring home to the bookshelves.  As always it is a bit of a gamble, will these actually be worth someone else's money?  Will I enjoy them?  Will I find time to read them in between sloth and stuffing my face?     

 
The trouble is, I only have one more book token to use, but there are several books I consider I ought to consider.  Maybe I need to drop hints with the family again...?
 

Ridiculous as it sounds I almost went the wrong way heading back to the bus.  Tsk!  I intended to pass throught the market and check out one or two stalls.  On the correct route I passed this.  At first I thought it was the 'Wicker Man,' but it turns out to be a war memorial.


The memorial itself commemorates the Boer War, a massive block elsewhere remembers the Great War, but this one always has a presentation of sorts in November.  Not sure what that is made from but it is well done.


I passed through the very large indoor market, obtaining a variety of meat from the butcher and accidentally purchasing two large slabs of cheese from the cheese stall.  The nurse will not be pleased.  It is a log time since I have been here, these two stalls have not changed, and many of the other stalls remain in place, including the one selling aged cameras at inflated prices.
 

Somewhat surprised at my energy I went to the bus station.  At the stop the numbers indicated had changed.  I queried this with a driver hesitating to begin his shift.  He informed me how things had been revised, where my stop now was, and we both laughed when I asked why there was now a Number 70, as well as a Number 370 bus on the same routes.  "I have no idea," he said holding wide his arms.  We both laughed at the managers and clever people high up who direct things but never see them in action on the ground.
I checked the bus stop.  Lots of old pill pushers stood there.  The indicator claimed the No 70 was coming in 34 minutes, the C1 (what's that?) in 1 minute.  I went to the 'Tesco Express,' bought an overpriced bottle of water, returned to the stop to find only a couple waiting.  The C1 went off to the Hospital taking the pill pushers with it.  Now the indicator said No 370 in 6 minutes.  I sat of the two rails that form a poor seat and the No 370 drew in behind me!  
Catching a bus takes lots of patience, exercise, sarcasm and hope in this area I find.   Still, I was heading home.
 

What delight to see old houses (costing a million) blue sky, green grass, growing crops and hedges filled with birds flapping about.  Though to be honest it was mostly Crows I heard murmering.  It was good to be out, especially as the day passed quickly with no troubles.  Within three hours I had returned, eaten lunch and began to stiffen up.  A good day, which I will pay for tomorrow.

 

Wednesday, 11 May 2022

Wednesday Wittering

 
On this day in 1812 the Prime Minister, one Spencer Perceval, was assassinated.   I do not mention this as a suggestion for anyone to take note off by the way, I am just mentioning it in passing.  Security, by the way, has since been tightened somewhat at the House Lobby.  Spencer, a 'run-of-the-mill' Prime Minister had done nothing to upset his assassin except be PM while the gunman tried to get recompense from his trials, though the government as a whole was guilty in the assassin's eyes.  
One John Bellingham was the man responsible.  While in Russia during 1802 he had discovered an insurance scam in operation.  However, Russian corruption has not changed its spots and soon he was serving 5 years in prison on trumped up charges.  Eventually released, he demanded compensation and was ignored.  Back in the UK about 1809 he spoke to his MP and a Treasury official seeking compensation for this injury.  This led nowhere.  Advised to take 'whatever means he thought proper,' Bellingham obtained two pistols, quite easy in those days, and sat by the fireplace in the House of Commons Lobby.
When the PM entered said Lobby Mr Bellingham quietly rose, walked towards him, produced his gun, fired at Perceval's chest and stood quietly awaiting arrest.
The Prime Minister on the other hand fell to the floor and said "I am murdered."  He was not mistaken.  He did not rise again.
Bellingham dd not run, merely informing all those around him that he had been badly treated and Perceval was responsible for this.  However, now that he had found sufficient justice had been done he was satisfied.
The 'Old Bailey' was satisfied that he was not 'insane' as he pleaded, but guilty of willful murder, and thus sentenced Bellingham to hang.
His greiving wife was however, not left alone.  Public money was gathered and she was provided for, especially as within a year she was once again married.    


I spent some time watching the 'West Somerset Railway' today.  This is what today is called a 'heritage line,' but to many of us it is just a Steam Railway, a remembrance of times past.  Several stations here have live camera's available, though apparently not Minehead where I believe the line terminates.  
Any such line deserves respect.  Many were closed under the famous 'Beeching Report' in the 60's, I wonder if this is what happened here?  Watching two steam engines pull around eight renovated coaches in either direction was quite impressive.  The fact that these locomotives, not always young when bought, had to be paid for by donation, renovated along with coaches, station buildings and track, and all by many part time volunteers is very impressive.  Remember also that such railways cannot cut corners, all British Rail legislation must be obeyed.  Operation at all times must be according to BR best practice, anything else, apart from not being true to life, can be dangerous.  Inspections are tough and costly, each engine must have the boiler replaced every ten years, and that is not just a big job but a very expensive one.    
I had the live shot from Williton on in the background, and it gave me a very good idea of what working on such a railway in past times must have been like.  Certainly there would be more traffic, including goods vehicles, and very possibly a yard at the rear with a large hut and a couple of lines, plus space for coal to be deposited.   
Usually such stations had a Station Master, a ticket clerk, possibly a signalman if they had a yard, maybe in larger stations a shunter engine with driver and fireman also.  There would be two or three porters, and as the station was open most of the day I expect there were two shifts to operate.  Today, at Williton I saw one Station Master, a signalman, and two "cough" not so young porters moving noticeboards and talking to passengers.  Who knows how many volunteers work at the busier weekends or during the summer? 
It appeared to me working on such a line in the past would not be a bad job, though possibly not making the worker rich.  In between trains there may be long periods of silence, broken only by various duties, including at many stations tending flowerbeds, while preparing for passengers and trains to arrive and depart.  Such silence today I found enjoyable.  I suspect that when younger I would be anxious for adventure, now however, I loved the silence while we awaited the arrival of the next train.  Winter time in such exposed areas might be silent also, but I suspect not be so much fun.
Railwaymen in the past did tend to remain loyal to the company, though not all companies treated them well.  Often men followed fathers, and their sons followed them.  A good secure job, with possible promotion or movement elsewhere, and a guaranteed employment for life, after all nothing could overtake the railway, could it?


I notice someone has already claimed the £184 million from the Lottery win last night.  This means nothing to me as you know, though I have checked with all my family, friends, acquaintances and people passing my door, just to be sure it is not them.  I would not wish anyone to be ruined by such sudden wealth...


Tuesday, 10 May 2022

Tuesday Twaddle

 
I have just watched Charles practising to be King while reading out the Queens Speech to the country.  It takes years of practice at keeping a straight face to read such a speech without laughing out loud.  No doubt Charles, an intelligent man, was remembering the 40 hospitals and other balloons Boris has promised since stealing the top job.  Here the future King was faced with page after page of promises, all with the singular intention of keeping Boris in that top job.  
None of it will come to pass, apart from the 'relaxing of EU standards,' which will allow businesses that fund Boris to lower standards and increase pollution, unhealthy food, and other H&S bothersome things that save lives but increase costs.  The other legislation will only occurr if Boris thinks he needs it.  That is if he remains in his job of course, ask the Met Police about that.
 

Watching the sun outside my window, while the lovely young lass next door hoovers the stairs, I note the grumbles re the Queens Speech are appearing.  Empty, nothing to say, and only lowering standards for his friends appears likely to happen. 
Meanwhile Central Office keeps telling Tory MPs to build up 'Beergate,' and now the papers that pressurised Durham Police to investigate Starmer are now claiming Starmer has pressurised the Durham Police by claiming he will stand down if found guilty.   
Tee Hee!  Poor Paul Dacre does not know which way to lie...


Sunday, 8 May 2022

"The Places in Between" by Rory Stewart

 
This is a very interesting book.
Rory Stewart, a diplomat, a man who has planted thousands of trees, spent time as a Governor in Iraq, a man who has walked over almost all Asian nations, decided, having lived in Afghanistan for three years to walk across northern Afghanistan in winter!  This book describes his travels and is well worth a read.
His ability to speak local languages, or at least part so some, opened doors in the way a non speaker could not make progress.  His understanding of Islam and how the villagers lives, especially as he was walking during 2002 just after the end of the Taliba war, enabled him to live overnight under locals hospitality.     
Accompanied until around the halfway mark, and against his will, by a couple of security men, whose real role he often wondered about, especially as they brought their sick friend along, he trecked across the northern trail in increasingly cold weather.  By half way through the snow was lying thick and never let up until he reached kabul.  
Rory followed the route taken some 500 years before by the Moghul Emperor Barbur from Herat to Kabul as he headed towards invading India. He too travelled in winter, though he had a large retinue following him.  His work is quoted throughout the book.
Afghanistan society is divided among many tribes, all following a form of Islam though age old culture is the real influence here.  Indeed, in some places Rory discovered few if any could read, and as the Koran is written in Arabic which few spoke, this was a handicap.  Nnetheless all prayed at the right time, many were anxious about Rory and whether he was Islamic (he lied quite a few times to remain alive) and only those who had gone into Kabul, Pakistan or Iran had a view on something of the outside world.  Only one tribe, much harmed as all others were by the wars, whether with Russians, Taliban or one another, with blood feuds going back into eons, only one tribe allowed women freedom to speak and join debates.
At Chagcharan Rory loses the remain companion, the two others had failed long before, and he was at last free to walk, as he had always intended, alone to Kabul.  Here however he met the British Army as a large airbase had been established here.  The cockney voices intrigued him after not hearing English from the villagers, especially as they all considered him, quite rightly, mad!  
They however, did feed him and his new dog Barbur, which he had been sold somewhat unwillingly, on his travels.  Barbur is a Mastiff, used to protect the people and sheep and cattle, when they actually had them, or as fighting dogs.  Badly treated by the locals, as they had little consideration for their animals, or those they had left after the fighting, and Barbur was very timid when Rory raised his stick, all walkers require them, to fend of packs of dogs that attacked them on the road.  Years of abuse not easily forgotten.
In spite of those who favoured the Taliban hindering the journey Rory reaches Kabul and his friends there.  His dog, which he had sent on ahead before he entered the last tribal area, they would not have allowed the dog to survive, enjoyed Kabul.  Here the friends fed him meat, on the journey little food was found, mostly dry bread, and the life of Riley was now available to the dog.  Sadly, he was given a sheeps bone, something he was unused to eating, and shreds of bone entered and rupruted his stomach and he died.  
Rory Stewarts prose enables us to walk with him through deep snow, very unfriendly areas, passing through high mountain passes blocked by snow that sensible people would avoid, and receive somewhat grudging hospitality from poverty stricken villagers who had little hope or expectation of a better life.  For eons Afghanistan, and Pakistan, have nursed mountain people into their own culture.  The idea of imposing western democracy upon this is laughable, but far too many tried.  This book reveals the heart of the country, the villagers outside the cities, the one who support much of the Talibans ideas, partly because this ensured some peace, partly because they are their people.  The west had no chance to improve the lot of many as wished, because they were dealing with people but not their culture.  That culture will not change easily, especially today with the Taliban once again in charge. 
Interesting to me was how this reflected the book of Judges, and the tribal society of early Israel.  The people followed generally one Law, were mostly an agricultural village society, fought more with one another than those outside, had their local leaders rather than national, and were open to all sort of outside influences, but wished to remain themselves at all times.  
We could learn much about the world and real life from this book.  I recommend it. 
 

Friday, 6 May 2022

Friday Frippary

The tingle in my toe indicates I sit around too much, similar tingles in my fingers indicate repetitive strain injury caused by too much time playing solitaire working on this laptop.  Therefore more walking and exercise is required, but this aches the knees, it doesn't do much for the back either.  However, this morning I crossed the park, wandered the long way, that is another five minutes, through the town, and limped home hungry for lunch.
This afternoon I returned the empty beer vinegar bottles to the recycling bins at the supermarket, with great difficulty.  For a start the bag appeared heavy for some reason, and the actual bins had not been emptied.  The lids were bursting open, bags crammed with bottles lay all around, beer bottles, wine bottles, spirits of many kind bottles, all stood to attention awaiting disposal in amongst the discarded plastic bags and broken chips of glass that always lies everywhere here.  At least people are trying to recycle and save the planet.  
Having added my bag to the flock I meandered towards the bank, took cash from the 'Hole in the Wall,' and marvelled at how easy this was.  In times past Scots banks were not keen on customers, after all, they had work to do, so they opened at 9:30, closed for an hour at lunchtime, and closed again to the public at 3:30. These are all ideal times for the man in the street to make use of a bank!  Today I just inserted the card, pressed numbers, pressed another couple of buttons and money appeared from the wall. This is great!  
I wonder who the card belonged to?
Anyway, I hobbled down the road passing many mum's returning the kids from the schools, crossed the park once again and amazingly sat on a bench to enjoy the warmth of the day!  It was heading towards 70ish degrees today.  Short sleeves abounded, women putting their noses in the air expecting all men to admire them, I look the other way to annoy them, all around the unexpected relief that summer might be nearing.  Ha!  I thought it was getting cloudy now, the weather man has promised rain tonight!  Typical.

 
 
Sadly the local elections turned out to be disappointing for us all.  While the Tories lost heavily it was clear they did not lose heavily enough.  Worse, many continued to vote for them, in spite of the mess they are leaving us.  Labour have done well in Scotland, but elsewhere they have gained many local seats but not enough to encourage hope in a general election.  Boris may yet try for an early general election if he thinks he will gain enough of a winning margin.  I doubt this however.  There again there was not sufficient displeasure amongst the faithful to call for his removal, but underneath the ground is shifting.
 
 
My day of excitement will end with the second leg of Inverness Caledonian v Partick Thistle tonight.  The play-off time is here again and always to be welcomed.  The first legs are not always so enjoyable, however, when the game is there to be won in the second leg it gets interesting.  These are good games to watch.  However, not all is good in Scottish football, last nght the blue bigots won through to the final of a European competition.  This is sad news to me.  The last thing we need is the sectarian pair getting more cash, they will waste it on themselves and continue to spurn Scottish football. This is not a good moment for Scotland.