Driving Home For Christmas

"Doreen, slow down, I can see a dancing light over there on the right. Do you think it could be a firefly?"
"Don't be ridiculous Derrick!  Fireflies in December, and on late Christmas evening."
"Ah it's disappeared.... Oh no, there it is again.  Well look at that.  It's a cyclist, must has gone off into the ditch.  Shall we see if we can help?"
"He's getting up.  looks like he's ok."
"What's this? Oh my goodness, such language! Calling me 'dippy lights'. There's no need for that.  I'll dippy his lights if I get my hands on him.  Speed up Doreen, that's just rude."
"Probably been drinking.  Can you get points on your licence if you're cycling?"
"Doreen, be charitable  - it is Christmas."

See BBC website for
the remedy provided by sympathetic Police Officers in China.

Joanna- An Adult

Joanna with her flamin' cake

Shanghai Moon with lala, my mum, Frances and Rebecca

Christmas 2016

 I march down our street shouldering a Christmas tree,
Surely I did this last month, but a year's passed already.

A year when Liz and her buddies up at Mizoram Baptist High,
Were asked to put on a musical, the school's first ever try.

"Just portray us as a happy school" was the instruction from the Head,
'We're a happy school' was the main message, sung, danced and said.

Down to earth from India, they toured sunny England,
Visiting interesting places, including the oysterbeds of Mersea Island.

Now that Sheffield's her home, Liz finds student life somewhat raucous,
I think she's read all her books on her undergraduate English course.

Joanna puts up with us old fogies, portions sizes have got fairer,
Recently at our church Ball, she won best fancy-dress wearer.

She continues to be theatrical, next term there's a trip to Broadway,
She's acting as the headteacher in the college musical, 'Hairspray'.

Studying English and Philosophy but drama's still ace,
A gap year is planned, then to university? (watch this space.)

This year Andrew's been learning about failing gracefully,
He didn't pass the third year of his course in family therapy.

On a happier note he celebrated his fiftieth year,
And is planning a skydive to show he has no fear.

Things go well at his work though he's concerned for the NHS,
His colleagues are wonderful and their support is a bless.

Margaret's school expands, now all academy's must compete,
She's a popular teacher, I don't remember giving my teachers a treat.

To Aachen we traveled to see the glories of Charlemagne,
We saw the amazing royal treasury and even gorped at his brain!

In the Summer fourteen Starrs stayed in Lorton in the Lakes,
Playing pool, cooking feasts and  following in Wordsworthian wakes

We are now off to Faringdon to join the Christmas scene,
With you we'll march together into the year 2017,

Nabakov

I listened to 'Despair' by Valadimir Nabakov, with the extraordinary rendition offered by Christopher Lane, an actor.  The more I was drawn into the story, the more I felt a close proximity and bond with the character of Felix.  As I listened it dawned on me that here was a man with whom I have a close affinity.  This uncanny, disquieting experience has affected me all week.  It is as if I have found my doppelganger prematurely. Like being given a life-time for searching and it's all over so quickly, like a football match where the winning goal is scored within the first minute.  What am I to do?  This has got me thinking now.

On Failure

I am a Time Traveller born into a speeding car,
Finding myself careering down a rutted track.
My consciousness grows of a wall, not afar,
Haplessly into which  I will surly soon smack.

Now in the driving seat with hands clasped to the wheel,
Brakes screeching inexpertly attempting to swerve.
Without sufficient strength the failure I feel,
Lying injured in pain, the consequence I deserve?

A physician arrives, I notice similar scaring,
From the wreckage I am miraculously rescued.
In his eyes I see he understands my questioning,
"Yes I passed down this way and was similarly abused."

"These risks we allowed, feeling them worth the exhilaration,
Of experiencing the intensity of the freedom you're due.
To fail is not failure when now, and the next occasion,
From the start of the journey, I am sitting next to you."

The Line

The Prime Meridian

A birthday celebration in the East of London skirting Margaret, Ruth and Marion's ancient routes.  The train from Bedford stops in West Hampsted.  From here we wheel across to the Overground Station, and travelled straight on into Stratford.  Coming out of the station we found ourselves next to a strong current drawing people into the mouth of the Westfield Shopping Centre.  After a moments hesitation, we were in and swirling along the curving concourse.  After a while the flow slowed, and we were better able to take in our surrounding. We clambered out and found a friendly Lebanese lunching spot.  From inside the noise and humidity of the Jungle, we ventured out into the icy blasts of the old Olympic Park site.  Vast glacial pathways cut across wide empty space.  We peeked into Zaha Hadid's wonderful Aquatic Centre.  Ruth saw it as a stingray.  I remembered Zaha's passing this year.

Lebanese Lunch in the jungle

The start of 'The Line' appears to shun the Olympic park.  I am reminded of seeing the pain in Anish Kapoor's face when the Orbital Tower was being opened.  It had clearly been destroyed by 'Health and Safety'.

What a magnificent building

The first sculpture- Unfortunately we missed it.

A high point on the route in walking through the Three Mills.

This is a tidal mill, that dates back to the Domesday Book.  The locks round here have four gates as both sides take turns at being the top.

Once the centre of Gin manufacture in the East End. Now a good place
to have mulled wine and chestnuts.

More chestnuts than we could eat in fact.

By the Lee River, final resting place for many a trolley.

Homage to the strange world of Dockland.

Up and away (£3.50 on your Oyster Card- not a bad trip.)

The view over the north bank.

View at the end of the day over the Dome.

Antony Gormley's wonderful Quantum Cloud.  To see it properly you have to walk past.

The End

What I have learnt from Neil MacGregor about Germany

• ·         Bauhaus still exists though some might call it IKEA.
• ·         Durer’s famous prints of the Knight and Melancholia are thought to sum up the German character.  His Rhinoceros, draw from a description taken from a Portuguese Sailor, is his signature work.
• ·         Gutenberg’s success, like so many revolutions, was based on serendipity.  People rich enough to buy, a epidemic desire to read the bible, technologies coming together including expertly crafted adaptations of wine presses into printing presses, and the superb craftsmanship needed to create metal lettering.  Also Meissen had Italian paper fairs twice a year, and was located in a healthy trade corridor.
• ·         The German flag, Black, Red and Gold, dates from 1845, at a time when Germany could have been unified.  “Deutschland uber alles” actually means the state of German over all these dukedoms and principalities, not the whole world!  East and West German vied for the right to use the flag because it was also associated with Karl Marx and the communist manifesto in 1845.  East German gave in and included it’s communist logo to differentiate itself from the West.
• ·         Rich Women handed in their jewels to help fund the war of liberation from Napoleon.  In exchange they were given Iron jewellery, lined with nationalist slogans. 
• ·         The Steel Yard in the City of London belonged to the Hanseatic League.  This merchant fraternity eventually gave its name to the German national airline, Lufthansa.
• ·         Riemenschneider wood carvings were not intended to be painted, unlike most wood caring of the time.  Hence Riemenschneider used his skill to show the emotion of the person though texture alone.
• ·         The French and German’s claim Charlemagne as a founding father.
• ·         Wallhana, on the Rheine in Bavaria unites the German speaking people.  German, a nation, like other nations with week physical borders, has moved around.  The only thing left in Konigsberg, the royal home of the Prussian kings, are the sewer man hole covers.  The Russians removed everything else even though it was the home of Kant.
• ·         Goethe was dissolute until he read Shakespeare.  Here he saw the hope of freedom from classical constraints he desired.  He is now recognised by most Germans on the street. (His picture that is.)
• ·         Luther survived many sentences of death because of the divided German statelet system.  His presence in Saxony was a snub to neighbouring states.  A bit like Leicester and Leicestershire, “we’ll do whatever they and not doing, and visa versa.”
• ·         Luther’s German became a marker for the nations, in a similar way Chaucer’s English was in England.
• ·         Charlemagne’s true crown (actually it Otto's) is in Vienna.  We saw a replica in Aachen.  The Austrians also see him as their founding father and appropriated the crown to prevent it from being taken by Napoleon.

19th visit to Arthog!

In the Mawddach again- full of character

A classic view.  I read that the last time the bridge opened, it took so long the tide changed and the yacht couldn't risk it. 

The route down to Barmouth/Abermaw

More atmospheric skies over Harlech

The famous photographer

The least value ferry crossing (low tide)

From Tyrrau Mawr- as featured in all of Eric's picture we own.

Ty Coch is always a dream

My favourite place- Llyn Hywel and it's roller-coaster stratigraphy

On top of Rhinog Fach

The residents

The quietest place I have been in a long time.   

Welcome to Aberystwyth

After a long drive with stops to cope with car sickness, we wind our way down into Aberystwyth.  The university is clearly signed and we find a fortuitous  parking space on a steep driveway right next to the arts complex. The first building we walk into is Drama.  Immediately five 'yellow T-shirted' students arise, delight in their faces, and skip around Joanna.  It is the university Open Day.  Aberystwyth is a long way from anywhere, and we are evidently some of the few to make it through.

I am reminded of a Korean film we watched in our film club called Welcome to Dongmakgol.  The film is set in 1950 during the height of the Korean War.  The two opposing sides fight their way up a remote hill to a secluded and picturesque village at the top. The delightful inhabitants know little of what is happenings in their country and the combatants soon loose the will to fight.  They join with each other in the work of the village...until the spell is broken, and village is destroyed.

Some entertaining lecturers explained the nature of their course to about ten people in a vast theatre space.  This included an introduction to the science of Scenology, with particularly inspiring photographs displayed on a large screen. Afterwards we chatted informally with staff and effusive students, sharing their sandwiches.  Joanna was taken on a tour, which included walking across the netting above the theatre space where lighting and scenage are suspended.  She then took part in a workshop, and we watched the drama unfold.

"One of the best things about Aberystwyth," Connor says to Joanna, "is that it's so far away you'll never be bothered by your parents while you're here".

Lorton- A coup?

Peter called it a coup. I guess that residents of Istanbul and Ankara are allowed to use such delicate terms. We have pulled off another family holidays with 14 people fitting exactly into cars and bedrooms in a house in Lorton, north west Lake District.  It did seem to be designed to keep us at the right proximity for perfect peace.

Wordsworth's childhood home (both of them)

We were invited round for tea.

Our Lake District home- nasty tackle.

14 people- neatly fitting into 14 beds

Jonathan headed off up the waterfall, so we had to all follow him.

International pose number 367

Another, more quizzical, pose

Out on the lake

Learning from the Master

Descending through the clouds

Homeward bound

Visiting Muncaster

Basket full of Hobs

We returned via 'do the boys' school

Mum's Grandies

We began the holiday with fish and chips, and stage one of our homage to the Wordsworth family, starting at their childhood home in Cockermouth. Stage two moved to their early most productive years in poverty at Dove cottage in Grassmere. Then down the road, round the corner and up a hill to the beautifully situated family home, Rydal Mount. This was where William Wordsworth initially turned down his invitation to be poet Laureate, and later accepted the honour after agreeing that he would not be required to compose any poetry. We quite understood why with such a big garden to attend to.

One concern for Peter was how to ensure that the postcards home would be considered suitably exciting.  “Would anyone like to climb that vertical waterfall?” Yes, that’s Jonathan, followed by virtually the whole of the vertical climbers in the party. We seemed to have forgotten our previous failed attempts at scaling impassable hillside in the past.  The doubtful route rapidly becomes more dissenting as all became impenetrable bracken. led by the dauntless Jonathan in his crocs, all we needed was faith, and eventually we appeared at the top of the hill to gain a spectacular view over Buttermere and were relieved to spy a very safe paved path returning us to the valley floor.

Key features of our family get-togethers are culinary competition, sporting contest (this year- Pool) football on sloping lawns and car convoys to remote castles.  Our caster Castle was at Muncaster were meeting Lord Patrick as we entered gave the place an immediate homely feel.  Whilst it did feel that we were visiting a forgotten corner of England, we realised that this had led to a particular quirkiness that is very endearing.  Muncaster is near Ravensglass, with is Roman origins.

Our new friend Yigit will have the impression that every English motorway is a traffic jam.  Friday holiday changeover doubles the load on the motorway. We took a break on the way home at Tatton Park. Even then we only just made the last tour.

A King for Aachen

All great journeys start from London. (Well- the ones from London do.)

One day, a long time ago, I took found myself  in a train carriage traveling to Vienna with a certain Mrs Christie.  I recall being impressed by steep wooded gorges through the Ardennes, to Liege, and beyond to Aachen.  As we slowly circled the city I remember wondering what secrets where held in this, our closest German neighbour.  From Dad's papers, I also acquired a small booklet on the Cathedral.  The intrigue grew.

This summer, I picked up the book and put it in my back pocket and set off with my family.

At Bruxelles Midi, or was it Sud?

 This is the world of swirling languages.   Bruxelles Midi or Zuid?  do we get out here?  One false move and you've missed your connection. Then on across the invisible border into Wollonia, where announcements change irreconcilably into French; so now we are heading towards Aix la Chepelle.   Aachen has disappeared.  The train doesn't even go to Aachen, it heads for the diminutive Eupen.  So at a junction station, the passengers from 8 carriages step out onto a sleepy hot platform and run (we're late and we feel it) to one end when the 2 carriage banger waits to escort us across the border.  We are not hanging around in Belgium.  I think of the many people stuck at European borders at this time.  "Borders are the prison we choose to live behind" said Yehudi Menuhin,,, once.

We roll into Aachen.  Instantly we are in a bustling, multi-cultural metropolis, about the size of Leicester.  From the roof of our apartment we can see the Rathaus, and the Cathedral,   Our first trip is the Cathedral.  It is magnificent, a wonderful eclectic mix of ages.

Our view from 'Domapartment

The original church is based on Byzantine ideas.  Karlgross, or Charlemagne, saw himself as taking up the mantel of Constantine in being the Pope's ruler.  The main body of the church, though large, is a small copy of the Hagia Sophia.  In the 14th century a Gothic Chancel was added with windows to compete with the St Chapelle in Paris. Today it has very distinctive modern glass which I think are masterful.

The Cathedral also has a barque Chapel and the St Nicholas chapel where thousands of hands have worn a deep gouge into the holy water font on a pillar.  It reminded me that visiting Cathedrals is what it has been about for many centuries. On a special tour of the treasures, we were also able to go upstairs and see the throne of the kings of Germany.  The pillars we see have also traveled far.  The Porphyry columns in the arches were decorative.  Taken on 800 AD from roman sites, they were then removed my Napoleonic forces and sent to Paris, only to be restored by the Prussians, who went on the re-mosaic the whole Cathedral.  they did it very well (a very good fake.)

Karlgross by the Rathaus, once his palace.

Our roof top apartment

A beautiful reliquary- Lift the lid and you
can see Charlemagne's brain!

After a number of trips to the Bike hire place, one place in Aachen when I really needed some German.  "Would I like a Schloss?" Bit tricky to carry a castle on a bike.  Ah "a lock" (even here there was some English.)  "Yes please" but we still needed to return to our flat to pick up passports for ID. We forgot that ID is an important part of European identity.  We set off on our bikes for the Dutch border.  I noted that after 3 km of Aachen suburbs, we hit German Vaal, and then the old toll booths, and we were into Dutch Vaal.  Soon we were climbing the long windy road to the top of Holland.  'Drilandenpunt' where Belgium, The Netherlands and German meet, is a pleasant version of 'Lands End'.  A bit of Europe that was designed for Schengan and the Euro.  Without these it would be a nightmare.  It was good to meet a cheery Dutch waiter and waitress who told us about Limberg, the land, like Kurdistan, that exists despite national borders.  We climber the viewing platform and gazed down on Aachen, to the rooftop penthouse in the distance which provided us with the opposite view.

View from The Netherlands into Germany (Belgium's to the right.)  

The tower at the highest point in Holland

Our trip to Koln- Lunch overlooking the Rheine

This bridge needs to be strong

Aachen views

A good time