All posts by tonyives

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About tonyives

A Yorkshireman of a certain age who likes most genres of music and most makes of old car. Travel is a joy, not least to escape the British winter. Travel by bicycle is bliss and if I’m not lost in music then I’m lost in a daydream about a hot day, tens of miles to cover and the promise of a great campsite and a beer. I like to think I’m always learning and becoming wiser. However, on the latter point evidence is in short supply.

Sri Lanka Days 7 – Putin, Charity & A Serial Killer

This is the leopard we saw a few days back. Helen kindly circulated her image and I must share it.

So let’s talk about the British legacy. We departed in 1948 and Ceylon became independent. Prabash, our guide, would have it that Hitler enabled their escape from the colonial yoke. He opines that Britain granted independence to much of its Empire due to its financial predicament after the war. We were skint. He sees little good about our colonial heritage and I can imagine him throwing an energetic V sign to our departing backs (had he been around at the time). There you have it! I think that has elements of truth but not all of it.

Today the Sri Lankans have our language. This is an asset and as regards its structure and organisation there appears something a little British in the way they do things including roundabouts! In Kandy there are many links with British higher education establishments; so our education must be coveted. However, it seems since independence that Britain has slipped away as being important as a trading partner or influence. We were preoccupied by our own post war domestic priorities and certainly not interested in faraway parts of the Commonwealth. There are hints at Sri Lanka being a once useful export market with odd sightings of Morris Minors, a Ford Anglia, old Jaguars and the still ubiquitous Leyland logo.

On this latter point then Leyland ceased to have anything to do with this Indian truck manufacturer after 1985 but the name lives on (unlike Leyland in the UK where the plant makes DAF trucks). I can understand that with our failing car industry we had other priorities on our mind. Let’s face it the dealers in Leamington Spa, Southend and Lincoln probably bought the same volume as Ceylon at the time. Today Toyota, Honda, Suzuki and Mitsubishi’s are the cars of choice today.

A colonial power cannot be defended but when you look at post-war India and Ceylon there was and is still poverty and corruption. The level of death on the sub Continent through religious conflict was enormous (but before we get too smug then let’s not forget Northern Ireland’s sectarian turmoil).

So how do they ‘earn a living’ today? The major earner is repatriated income from Sri Lankan’s either living or working abroad, second is the manufacture of garments (check that tag for ‘Sri Lanka’). Third would be tourism and fourth precious gems – out of the 264 gem types in the world they mine and sell 203. Lastly there is the export of cinnamon and tea. I mentioned corruption above. This extends into cricket. I asked why I’d only seen one set of men playing cricket and I was told that the problem lay with the Sri Lankan cricket board! The cost of equipment is prohibitive for schools apparently. Corruption has stopped the money reaching those who need or want it.

We get these facts and commentaries from Pabash as we drive along. (It is beyond doubt that his thought for the programme and care for each member of the party is immense). Today we were off to Kandy and it was our usual brisk morning start. The first stop was wood carving. We had the local species of wood explained to us and their uses. I asked if any of these wood species were protected by environmental legislation? I was told that they replant to compensate for the depletion. However, how long does it take to grow an ebony tree? I’m not convinced there is serious protection of these scarce resources. This solution seems ineffective if even true. All the wood working and painting was top class.

I would have bought something and I admired the vast selection of elephants, masks, flowers and icons. The prices were bizarre. A hovering salesman said the prices were ‘negotiable’. Who can be bothered to go through all that palaver?

Back on the bus we next stopped at a small shed/lock up garage and saw the many uses of coconut and its tree. These included – food, alcohol, oil for lights, vinegar, roofing, rope, mats and cooking utensils from the shells. Quite amazing. This host family of man and wife, child and mother put on a slick show demonstrating how they used the flesh, leaves, shell and liquids to make all these things. We were enthralled.

Getting back on board it was a short ride to learn about the medicinal uses of the various plants and trees that grew in Sri Lanka. The list included nutmeg, turmeric, cloves, pineapple, arnica, vanilla, ginger, aloe vera etc. In fact I stopped writing them down. Treatments, prevention, control of and cures extended to cancer, diabetes, cholesterol, hair lustre, arthritis, thrombosis and many others. Sadly I noted none for baldness…

This wasn’t ‘witchcraft’ as many of the above are sold at Holland & Barrett and at other British outlets nowadays. So back on the bus we drove and briefly saw a Hindu Temple before a hectic lunch break then into the centre of Kandy to see the Temple of the Tooth.

Kandy is the second largest city in Sri Lanka with a population the size of York but a road system for the size of Wetherby. It is very ramshackle and grid locked with traffic. This is due to it being in the mountains and finding space for wider or more roads is impossible. The Temple was another off with the shoes, cover your shoulders and knees ‘event’. I’ve worn my long shorts on all these religious visits yet the other men tend to don long pants. It’s too hot for me to contemplate (even if I’m not allowed in!) The Temple was heaving and the tooth is one of Buddha’s. It was smuggled to Sri Lanka from India when the Mongol hoards invaded and controlled the mainland in the 5th Century. It was rescued from Buddha’s funeral pyre. It is enormously important for the Sinhalese majority.

The tooth is under lock and key and we didn’t see it. It is always held by the highest in the land, whether that is the king or now the President. We Brits held it (appropriated) after our occupation yet ‘kindly’ gave it back in 1857. This return is shown in a picture in the Temple. More recently the Temple was bombed in the late 90s by the Tamil Tigers killing 16, including the bombers. This is not the first bombing. The damage has been repaired.

We were all now jaded after the heat but there was traditional dancing to endure. This was in a theatre full of tourists and just dragged on with little charm. The four drummers beat the ‘ess haitch one tee’ out of their weapons and occasionally a man would appear to make a noise, like a cat in a meat grinder, on a flute. The girls and blokes leapt around a bit but ‘The King & I’ or Bollywood it wasn’t. One of our party abandoned this din for the relative calm of a bustling street outside.

The hotel was just fabulous by comparison and we all celebrated with Western food and beer!

A day in Kandy was planned and so into the bus and by the time the driver had found third gear he was braking. We stopped at a Commonwealth War Graves Commission cemetery. During WW2 over 2,000 soldiers lost their life in the conflict operating from Ceylon. The island was a vital staging post between Asia and Europe and strategically important. The Japanese attempted to neutralise it with attacks to damage the ports and ships. As always the ages of the dead is sobering. A sacrifice we cannot forget not least of the Ceylonese troops who died in a war that probably visited them due to a British presence. As always these cemeteries are immaculately maintained.

Next was a gem showroom. If you’ve read an earlier blog we weren’t happy at the last detour to one in Colombo. This was a different story in that this was a higher class establishment and it was more educational. They explained the mining process and had better wares. The ring that Princess Diana wore as her engagement ring that Prince William gave to Kate is much talked about with no little pride.

This large sapphire is Sri Lankan in origin. So we did the history, did the manufacturing process and then were plonked in the showroom with 10 sales people. Much to my amazement some of our sober and money savvy travellers were buyers! Craig, the easy rolling Aussie software guy, bought his mum some earrings (or that’s what he says), Anastasiia (correctly spelt) our lofty Russian millennial model was always likely to buy and bought a ring and so did the Canadian couple. As regards this latter couple I’m glad I hadn’t been asked to bet on the likelihood of their buying as I wouldn’t have risked a rupee. It goes to show that you never can tell. Helena and Allan bought a star sapphire ring. So how much? Well all I can say is that they secured a 56% discount on the asking price!

….and Tony was Anna interested? No not at all. “I have enough jewellery” was the repeated mantra and our old friend American Express remained in its holster.

Next stop was the Royal Botanical Gardens. It was calm and idyllic with lots of exotic trees and flowers. Carl, ever the practical policeman did advise against lurking under trees with bats in them.

He pointed at various black spots on the path. This was bat vomit. He tells me they gorge on fruit but when hanging upside down they spew it up. (Don’t tell me you’re not learning with this blog).

Note the orchids.

I chatted with Anastasiia about Russia. She’s from Siberia near Lake Baikel. I asked about Putin and life for ordinary Russians. The story is as per China. Within 50 years most people have come from poverty to relative prosperity even if it still seems quite a hard life. With such progress who really cares about democracy, freedom of speech and openness? They know their leaders are corrupt but they personally have progress, stability and improving economic prospects. With their nation’s progress comes the logical reassertion of global reputation and power. They see their leaders as strong.

After lunch we were ferried to a shop/cafe that the tour operator (G Adventures) contributes toward the upkeep. This shop raises funds and awareness for under privileged and abused women and children with special needs. This is not a well funded activity in Sri Lanka and women are very much a ‘second class’ group of people.

We received a talk and then shopped for some goods made by some of the women they help. Anna and I bought some items and also added a donation. In Sri Lankan terms we were quite generous but by UK standards it wouldn’t have kept your local charity shop in business.

As we’re on the subject of a big heart and charity let’s talk about Joe. Quite a character. A bachelor with a gift of the gab and an independent spirit. I’ve told you he works all hours for UPS and takes immense exotic holidays. He wanders around the monuments we visit on his mobile. He’s not just taking photos but messaging. On his UPS ‘beat’ he has regular customers. Many of them are his friends. I asked him at one stop what the message was? He said it was from a customer – some elderly lady who’s made spaghetti for her husband but made too much. Was he hungry and what time would he be in her block? I can see how they’d love him: he has a ready, warm personality and is completely upbeat.

At breakfast he told us a little about his Italian heritage and a grandmother, born in Italy of a poor family, who lived with them in New York. They kept animals such as rabbits, ducks etc. The children viewed them all as pets but they kept going missing. “Joe, they’ve jumped over the fence and gone”. The reality was that his grandmother killed this livestock regularly for the evening stew! She was used to killing her meat on the day. Joe, with that Brooklyn drawl concluded… “all those years and I was livin’ with a serial killer”.

But I digress, back at Sthree. Joe decides to let four of the staff buy a certain value of items for themselves, he’s no use for ceramics, sarees, fridge magnets, throws, kitchen utensils, purses etc. The staff are really delighted and pick stock off the shelves and Joe pays. He probably also makes a separate donation. It’s a lot lot more than Anna and I spent or donated. We’re piecing this together because he’s not advertising this generosity.

Sometimes you can be in the presence of humbling kindness.

Sri Lanka Days 5 & 6 – An Aston Martin, Climbs & Sour Milk

Despite the beautiful setting the breakfast cereal milk was sour and the coffee the waiter fetched me was 70% milky water. I consumed neither. However, consumption hasn’t been a problem generally with copious amounts, usually at buffets, both lunchtime and evening. Without little irony the food here is better suited to vegetarian Anna than in France and definitely Germany.

After a leisurely start we climbed on the bus we each were each given a flower. This gives the giver ‘good karma’. By the same token we’ve received cups of tea and biscuits as part of this karma on parts of the tour. This is part of the Buddhist tradition and seems (and is) kind and peaceful but up until 2009 the country had a 25 year old civil war with the Tamils (Hindus). The UN calculate that over 100,000 died with several high profile assassinations and atrocities. Under the British we placed a number of Tamils in high positions because of their education and quality of English. The Buddhist majority (Sinhalese) resented this favour. After the British left there were ethnic tensions and by 1978 legislation was being passed for affirmative action for the majority. Actively the Tamils were being replaced.

War erupted with Tamils seeking a separate state and later an autonomous region. The war was bloody and the Tamil Tigers were not religious but highly political, organised and internationally well funded and armed. Even agreed Indian armed intervention (where 69 million Tamils live) was unsuccessful with India eventually becoming their foes. There were numerous peace attempts and eventually the Tamil cause internationally was proscribed as terrorist. In 2009 the Sri Lankan army prevailed with horrific bloodshed and the war was over. Despite our history lesson from the guide about all sorts then this era is assiduously avoided. Maybe the Sinhalese and Tamils aren’t at war but a toxic legacy must remain?

We were on the road to Habarana. This has place has a preserved traditional village. Here we’d see the plants, the farming, go for a boat ride on their lake, ride in a cart pulled by bulls and then have a traditionally prepared lunch in a hut. All very unique and interesting. On the road Prabash gave an introduction explaining how a farmer first found the land and prepared it for living and farming. He said the land needed clearing but they always left one big tree. Why? It was left in case there was a rampaging elephant or elephants. When this happened you could climb the tree to escape the trampling. Mind you, it had to be a strong tree!

We walked the village and our guide explained some of the medicinal properties of the fauna. Anna knew quite a few of these from her Mungo Deli shop days. More than a couple of the party thought the village was idyllic and self sufficient. With electric fences the elephants were more controlled nowadays! A woman prepared lunch (that we ate with our fingers) and even demonstrated breaking the husks off rice with a very large mortar and pestle.

Again more food, quite delicious and lots of it. Buffets are always fatal in that you can have seconds. I say fatal because a piece of grilled fish stuck in Anna’s throat and it took a bit of thumping on the back from Karl to displace the offending animal. Next we drove to Dambulla and a visit to the Golden Temple. The terrain is now becoming a bit more hilly and this temple (a historic rather than active place) is reached by a long walk uphill. A feature are the caves where there are many Buddha statues and paintings. In the scheme of things then most of these monuments were built by kings all the way back to the beginning of the first millennium. They seem to have had long periods of disuse, probably during the British colonial rule.

All our guides, demonstrators, canoeists, hotel porters etc. have to be tipped. Usually it is a couple pounds equivalent in Sri Lankan Rupees. To alleviate all this we were asked and gave Prabash 10,000 Rupees (c£40) along with the rest of the party to cover all this activity. In fairness when off the bus and at the sights there are a number of hawkers but little harassment. It is quite a relaxed and comfortable place.

After the visit the drive was short to a smart hotel. After we all checked in and showered and convened for a beer. This hotel is a tourist hub and lots of French people were about. Dining was at the hotel and whilst only £10 per head was at least double of what we usually paid and probably eight times what we’d pay out on the street.

It was an early start and we were headed for the Sigiriya ancient rock fortress. This was built in the 5th Century by King Kasyapa. He had expected an attack by a prince he had usurped for the throne and who’d been banished to India. The fort is atop a 200 metre rock outcrop.

Climbing it before the heat set in was the plan. Later in the morning the high heat would arrive with throngs of school children, German, French, Russian, Chinese tourists. There are some English voices but not many.

Mrs Ives (avec chapeau) ascending)

The fort complex starts at ground level but the ultimate safe haven is at the top. Our ascent was steep via stairways and steps. I enjoyed the workout. The views at the top were spectacular but a little hazy due to the heat. The king had a wife but, in addition, around 200 concubines. The view is that he was kept busy. Around 17 years after taking residence in this very defendable location he ventured out when the rightful prince returned. He descended from his safe haven and lost the battle, country and life.

From here we returned to the hotel via a supermarket stop to buy some lunch. It was a relief to not have the usual curry buffet and buy some simple bread based items. In the afternoon I stayed at the hotel whilst Anna ventured out for a massage with a couple of the others. She came back smelling like vegetable biryani. Lord knows what they rubbed into her hair and body but a shower was in order.

In the bar and the sticker says Aston Martin?

In the evening, when actually hungry this time, we slipped across road from the hotel to a roadside cafe. It was a vet ‘local’ haunt with a corrugated metal roof, trestle tables with plastic table cloths and plastic patio chairs. This is where the chef cooks in his open air kitchen beside the tables creating his dishes to the sound of chopping, scraping and frying. All of this smelt divine. Sat here loads of food arrived including dahls, hoppers (like a pancake), kottus and fried rice. We washed it down with some soft drinks and yoghurt to finish. Needless to say the costs was really negligible – a quarter of last night.

To pack this down we strolled the hotel grounds for a constitutional in the balmy evening beside a field literally throbbing with the sound of crickets. We returned to the room to listen to Talksport 2 on our iPhone app. The cricket commentary from the West Indies was ball by ball. Sadly England are limbering up for a battering.

Sri Lanka Days 3 & 4 – Elephants, Camping & Temples

So the group met in the hotel lobby and after receiving the ‘joining instructions’ we made our way to a restaurant. Out of the ten in the party then two are older but it is a very middle aged selection apart from two millennials. One of these is Russian and living in China and the other is a Chinese American living in New York. Certainly a lot for a Yorkshire boy to fathom out.

Things were going quite nicely over our first drink until Allan, a Canadian, called our national sport ‘soccer’. Rest assured matters were quickly and authoritatively corrected. Some of the party had only just got to Colombo and were weary; so we all said ‘goodnight’ and retired.

We’ve a spacious bus and it was manoeuvred through the Colombo rush hour heading north. We were aiming for a spot of camping near the Wilpattu National Park. The terrain is completely flat. The urban areas away from the high rise buildings are shambolic with little planning or rules. Houses abut shops and workshops. Different heights, designs and materials. There were also many started but incomplete buildings. The rural areas were a lot more attractive and the traffic thinned out. Now we had fields and woods either side. Often people walked alongside the road. The women in long dresses and throws (saris); the men less encumbered and often not walking but astride a bicycle or motorbike. The tuk-tuks were fewer in number as were cars and trucks.

After lunch on the road, four albums listened to on my iPod and we got to the campsite. Tents and the midday sun are never to be mixed and we swiftly dumped our bags and set off for a 4×4 tour of the park. Now I’m not being stupid to say that it wasn’t a million miles different to the Safari ride at Disney’s Animal Kingdom in Florida. Down dusty orange mud roads we bounced and ‘collected’ a number of animals albeit Disney makes the animals’ attendance easier by heating large rocks in strategic places for them to recline on as people crash by.

The Park is the largest and oldest in Sri Lanka and it generates tourist revenue. Anna loved all this but as we circled for seemingly hours attempting to spot a leopard I did reflect on the fact that there are a lot of leopards in zoos you could see. We did eventually find a leopard. Apparently most tours don’t see one – along with a sloth bear and elephants; so we’re lucky. All my photos were average but Ching (the Chinese American) had brought a camera with sufficient long lenses (to photo his native New York from the truck) and captured a staggering head shot of the leopard along with other astonishing clear close ups of birds and mammals we saw. He photos them on a RAW file format and later adjusts them on Photoshop: he knows what he’s doing as he’s talented and he does this sort of thing for a living. I’m sorry but my iPhone picture of the leopard’s butt is not worth uploading.

Water buffalo

Jackal

Sloth bear

Serpent eagle

Spotted deer (or as the leopard better knows it – lunch)

Elephants

In the evening at an outdoor dining table a park ranger talked about the park and the leopards. There are 200 in this park, 900 in Sri Lanka and only 3,000 in the wild worldwide, he says. Although that might be of the species we saw? He was passionate about his subject and knowledgeable. Again he said and you had to agree that there was under investment in the park and it’s potential. The biggest threat to the leopard are humans. Some animals are poached for their ‘medicinal’ properties and exported in bits.

Many of the group are well travelled and Joe from Brooklyn is a postman with UPS (and sounds like Danny Devito). He uses his accrued holiday to see the world. He says he regularly works 14 hour days in order to collect as much overtime as he can for these exotic jaunts. He introduced me to the ‘Been’ app. This records and maps how many countries and US States you’ve visited. Go and download it. Joe tends to photograph anything and everything that comes into view.

Anna doesn’t camp. However, in a very nice tent with attached bathroom we settled down to discover that in line with the ‘eco’ commitment there was no toilet paper. (I’m thinking my prospect of a tandem cycling holiday with tents may now be accepted if it includes Andrex).

We ate outside under the stars and the tour guide organised a cake for birthday boy Craig. He’s a software guy from North Sydney who’s last holiday was in Cambodia. He grumbled as we sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and chuntered about not celebrating birthdays anymore. Anyway we enjoyed the chocolate cake.

We settled down under canvas and soon it was Stupid O’Clock for brekkie and then off to Anuradhapura. I sat next to Louise from Tallahassee, Florida who had worked for the US Federal Government as a botanist. She’s a lovely woman but her appearance on the trip is obviously a set up. Her opening words to me this morning was that she ‘cooks for her dogs’. I’d have been less surprised if she said she cooks her dogs. Again Louise is inclined to photograph absolutely everything and ask searching and demanding questions of the guide. She’s so into it all and every meal is experienced thoughtfully with reflections on the ingredients. Sadly I’m inclined to wolf it down rating it good, bad or indifferent.

Anuradhapura is a fairly large town but beside it is a large historic site of the ruins of the town dating back until BC. We visited various parts of the site meeting terribly young monks (Anna can be seen selecting which one to take home) and seeing artefacts.

Rpthe man explains is Prabash our guide for the trip

We then motored to part of the site that is still used for active worship. We went up and around a tree that is sacred where many folk in white were chanting. It was quite unusual. Buddhism is new to me and I was quite impressed about the absence of a god, not believing in miracles and mainly achieving a lot of things by meditation. Where I lost some interest was the belief in an afterlife.

For me it’s intriguing where religion fits into history and politics but the topic of religion itself doesn’t grip me. I’m respectful of the folk who have a faith and today at the site and the shrines etc I more enjoyed my conversation with Karl toward the back of the group. He’s an Aussie policeman and a rugby league fanatic. We debated Super League, how boring rugby union was and where all these sports were headed. We both hoped that New Zealand wouldn’t win the upcoming World Cup in Japan!

From here we went for lunch. The Sri Lankan Tourist Board stipulate that we go to approved restaurants. I suppose this is maybe healthier and it isn’t expensive compared to Europe (although expensive for Sri Lanka) but apart from looking after my health you suspect that there is something in it for central Government. After this we got most of the afternoon off at the hotel. Some swam but I spent most of the time doing this blog. However, my first task was to clean lots of items that I’ve got chocolate on. Yes, a bit of a school boy error to pack chocolate sweets in a bag in such a climate!

Sri Lanka Day 2 – Duke of Edinburgh (again), Tuk-tuks & Precious Stones

Day Two started late, after all 10am here is 5am in the UK. Like all travelling British males I carry a bar of coal tar soap with me. With its gentle fragrance I did suspectEd that the house maid might have contacted Housekeeping complaining that someone had creosoted a shed in the bathroom overnight.

Our holiday starts in the capital, Colombo, where later in the evening we met up with our small tour party. The plan is to take a mini bus and go inland and then down to the various sights. So with today to paddle about by ourselves the present Mrs Ives suggested a city tour in a tuk-tuk. This is a cabriolet moped driven by a man with nerves of steel in heavy traffic. I was indifferent really. Sri Lanka has a population of nearly 22 million with 750,000 living in the capital, it is a busy and congested place. However Grumpy was instructed to comply and I was led to Reception to organise. Via the hotel we found a tuk-tuk tour for 3,600 Rupees (£16) for two hours. This brings us onto a reality check about the country.

You cannot help but feel a very rich and overly entitled Westerner here. Anything that is tourist based and near the tourist areas/hotels is at Western prices but elsewhere the people seem to earn very little so that lots of things simply cost pence. What’s the problem Tony? Well inevitably such imbalances mean a majority of people live just above poverty and there are many, by corruption, living in great comfort. There has been a recent disposal of the Prime Minister for corruption. Our tuk-tuk driver commented that the ex-PM’s wife had ended up with two tonnes of gold via various means. Clearly she’s sorted her pension out.

Our tour guide driver steered his weapon into the traffic and whilst ensconced in the back it was like being in a Play Station game with sensory overload – lurching, sudden braking, continual horns, fumes, incredible heat and a vista that sped past. He took us around a number of religious buildings. Always informed, cheerful and with great English. Before returning to Sri Lanka he’d had a stint in Qatar working in security at a mall. The city seemed a lot of ‘old’ slowly being overtaken by new buildings and roads. There is a rich cultural heritage with occupation by the Portuguese, then the Dutch and finally the British from the early 1800s until independence in 1948.

It was energetic, bustling and colourful.

Mosque

Hindu Temples

Buddhist Temple

This was a curio of a place with a museum as well as place of worship around an old tree. I understand Christianity and Islam but had no idea what Buddhism was about, how they worshipped or to whom. I think I’ll find out but it seems to involve old British cars and my old friend the ‘Philip’ again.

Sadly we finished the cultural tour and suddenly ended up in a jewel showroom. Here, held as captives, we were engaged by the charming salesmen talking about the wonders of sapphires and rubies. Neither of us wanted to visit or talk about gems and politely heard them out. We later found out that gems are one of Sri Lanka’s exports and the country is renowned for them. Escaping the showroom was difficult and prices were banded about with ludicrous discounts. Frankly I have no idea what such items would cost in the UK or whether it was a bargain. Neither did I know whether these several hundred dollar chips of mineral were simply bits of bottle glass or precious stones. I subsequently wondered whether anyone who was led into these places knew what they were looking at. Spontaneous, on the spot, purchases don’t usually start at $440, do they?

I forgave the taxi driver, as making a living seems tough, but declined the next ‘exhibition centre’ and we headed back to the hotel. Oh yes and we rounded up the 3,600 Rupees to 4,000. (Was that because we were generous or had no change!?)

Later I needed to change some money. The hotel rate was pants compared to the airport. As I wandered away from the hotel I was accosted by the usual men attempting to sell you a taxi ride, a restaurant and currency. On the latter I enquired as to the rate and it beat the airport. I changed £100. As I’m walking away I start to wonder if the cash is real or whether with my new wad I can buy Bow Street, The Old Kent Road and Fenchurch Street Station. Let’s hope not!

We have a lot of iPhone charging cables: all in York. So I found a kiosk in a busy street and asked if they had a cable. “Do you want a good cable or a bad one, sir?” So I gave it a little thought and decided that if Anna missed out on the odd G & T because of my profligacy then so be it.

So chores sorted we met up with two Canadians, one Russian, three Americans and two Australians. Blog gold I thought as we trundled off to the bonding meal.

Sri Lanka Day 1 – Prince Philip, Rucksacks & Sleep Deprivation

So this is the start of a trip to the Indian sub continent. I haven’t visited before and I have some preconceived ideas of what to expect but little else. Before you ask then I’m not taking a bicycle but something a lot more troublesome: I am taking a wife.

On the day of departure I’m not proud to say that I was as truculent and fractious as a hormonal teenager on Saturday afternoon. Leeds United were losing 0-1 at Rotherham United. Like a captive emerging from a dungeon I started to lighten up when we knocked in the equaliser and when Klich slotted home the winner I couldn’t have been a more agreeable companion seeing the bright side of all inconveniences and bordering on intolerably cheery. I can’t explain why this matters so much but it does. As the leader of the Free World would say – ‘Sad’.

However as I started this draft on our flight to Sri Lanka, via Dubai. A man in the opposite aisle fell asleep quickly after take off and was snoring. The sound the Emirates’ A380’s engines makes was as attractive as a gentle breeze catching the palm leaves on a desert island in comparison. I’d hoped for some respite even if it meant he died in his sleep.

We were en route to see elephants, tea plantations, leopards, beaches and the odd Buddhist temple and, not least, an uplift in temperature by about 20°C. The start of the journey wasn’t without excitement (if luggage floats your boat).

We were directed to use rucksacks by the tour operator and whilst excited at this type of luggage (very millennial) we were hobbled on the morning of departure by discovering a rucksack that the Favourite Youngest Daughter used (over a decade ago) was broken – a fastening had come off rendering it useless. In line with all the best practices of a then teenager this was put in a cupboard for the next 10 years rather than being thrown away. Anyway a trip to Decathlon in Stockport found a replacement and Anna, in the Manchester rain, stuffed it with her holiday clothes.

Manchester Airport was literally deserted for our 8.35pm flight. I have never seen it so empty. Anna’s purchase of ‘Fast Path’ Security passes we’re not needed but it is always nice to stroll through a better class of roped off passageway in an empty hall.

The arrival at Dubai was without incident and without sleep. It always is an unusual experience to feel terrible through sleep deprivation but to be walking in bright daylight. However after a couple of coffees, a yoghurt and the odd croissant things were a little more perky although at an equivalent of £20 I did feel that I had been mugged in broad daylight.

Meanwhile in Economy…

Given the availability of wi-fi nowadays we slouched around the Terminal gawping at our mobiles. One of the first tasks was to ‘untag’ Anna from a Facebook Post. Apparently the photograph of her looking like… err Anna wasn’t glamorous enough and so I duly edited the offending caption. Then I took in the news and saw that the Duke of Edinburgh had written a letter of apology to the woman who’s car he hit in his recent motoring accident. She seem mollified by this communication and commented that he had signed it ‘Philip’ which she took to be a nice gesture by one so lofty. Sadly I have news for her.

About 25 years ago I sat atop of a large department of employees at Moores Furniture Group who’s job was to deal with customers quotations and orders. It was an era before the internet and we lived in a sea of paper. I saw this daily forest after it’s opening and sorting. One morning as I’m perusing the letters and forms I came across a small letter of something like blue Basildon Bond. This was not the way most contractors, in Co Durham, communicated when seeking replacement hinges for a damaged wall cabinet. On closer scrutiny it was a personal letter to our former owner, George Moore, from Buckingham Palace.

Mr Moore following his disposal of the company for about £70 million had devoted himself to various activities including charitable ones. Such beneficiaries included one of the Duke of Edinburgh’s causes. The letter said little other than thank you and was simply signed ‘Philip’. This was how he signed all his letters!

I studied this letter and instructed it to be redirected to Mr Moore who resided elsewhere on the estate and did reflect that it was a little unfortunate that this letter, that he would no doubt be delighted to receive, had a date stamp plonked right across HRH’s moniker. If nothing else then Mr Moore could be confident in telling friends and family the date on which it was received.

Back on the connecting flight to Colombo I now resembled an extra from a Zombie Apocalypse film but sleep didn’t come as a nearby passenger enjoyed a local pastime of taking immense loud guttural sniffs and then gulp of mucus that amounted, in quantity, to the consumption of a four course meal. I think this may be common in the region. Deep joy. long haul, don’t you just love it?

Uncensored photo of the first wife

Arrival at Colombo Airport resembled a game in Jeux Sans Frontiere – lots of running around, snaking around pillars, little coordination but lots of smiling faces. We got to the hotel about two and half hours later and the taxi driver was genuinely pleased at the tip that came to just over £2 (the guide book said I’d been too generous and so ‘memo to self’ on that one).

The hotel seems fine and a shower, a beer and a bit of a stroll next.

Fish & Chips, Sewing Machines & Short Screws – Week 4 : 2019

January 21, 2019

I saw a thread on a cycling forum about cycling in Croatia. The gist, from the contributors, was that you needed to be part of a UN Convoy to reduce the risk of reckless drivers killing you. I’d ridden a few hundred miles there last summer and some of the busy congestion wasn’t much fun, however, I’d be happy to cycle there again.

A lot of cyclists are very nervous in traffic: I’m not but without doubt the UK roads are getting busier. Out during the week I pulled up at some temporary traffic lights outside a small town (Easingwold). The lights changed and I clipped my feet into the pedals and set off to be nearly grazed by a car barrelling through. The car had been a long way short of the lights when they changed; he sped through. So you think we’re talking about a busy sales rep hoping to make a crucial appointment? No, it was an old couple in some Korean hybrid no doubt risking my safety to get home for afternoon TV, a chocolate digestive and to let Rufus out into the back garden for a tiddle. Back in the centre of York, on Lendl, a tourist simply strolled across the central island to walk in front of me. In fairness she had her mind on other things as she was busy chatting on her mobile phone. Before impact I bellowed at her and she stepped back shocked. I was hardly inconspicuous in a hi-viz orange coat. No doubt her relatives in Beijing asked what the noise was? Let me help her – it was a call to keep her out of one of York’s unheralded attractions – York District Hospital.

Strolling round IKEA there was a desk that was so high I guess you stood at it. On the desk there was a prop: a sewing machine. Now over 50 years ago my mother had one but in 32 years of marriage my present wife may have had one but it is long gone by decades. They are about as ’current’ as slide rules, dandelion & burdock and Haircut 100. So why was one in IKEA? Well our local and large Yorkshire Asian community make their own clothes and IKEA have analysed their footfall and worked out a use for this piece of furniture. Great marketing.

IKEA is one retail member of the ‘High Street’ that’s surviving and now it appears that HMV has suitors. I’m so pleased about that: we need visible vinyl in the city. One of the dashboard knobs dropped off the Morgan and I lost the short grub screw to fix it. Thanks to specialist shops like Fastpack then you can find any fastener you need in volumes of one or two on a side street near you #boybliss.

The Favourite Eldest Daughter (FED) visited last weekend and dining was a priority for the one night of her stay. I volunteered a local delicacy, fish and chips. The quality of the Yorkshire takeaway is unsurpassed yet FED had some anxieties. Where to get them from and would the chips be good enough? There was a little ‘on line’ debate and (you’ll see my constructive and conciliatory comments in green below) on the dish. You’ll be palpably relieved to learn an emporium was eventually found and the transaction completed. Picky Southerners?

So how about the mast then Tony? Err, well it is still there and despite the network operator ignoring my letters then we have recently been in communication. I wrote to the principal share holder of the holding company and their non-executive chairman. After ignoring my letter for two months the CEO of the PLC holding company came back with a reply pronto!

He ‘parroted’ the balls I have had from the network operator and so I’ve written back offering images of where he could move this offensive stick to. I’ve copied his superiors again and at the very least the MD of the local company is now starting to be seen as a loser as he’s dragged these luminaries into my life. I also started to Tweet on the network operator’s Twitter posts. They blocked me but I changed my address and made comments on their posts again. The local Council were freaked by the ongoing dispute (and their social media involvement by being copied in). They raised the problem with the network operator again. Quickline said no due to technical reasons. So in summary it rumbles on and I am making their lives less comfortable by their original mistake.

Thinking about creating a website for all this next. If other people have the risk of a mast appearing then maybe I should ensure they are aware of what befalls them?

Lastly let’s imagine you are a member of the Police force and you are assigned to looking after the Duke of Edinburgh. An easy gig? He doesn’t go far and probably sleeps a lot: lots of time for cups of tea, chocolate hob nobs and playing games on your mobile? However, imagine your terror when the DoE declares he wants to go for a drive and you’ve go to accompany him.

Record Of The Week # 57

January 20, 2019

Eric Brace, Peter Cooper & Thomm Jutz – Riverland

The gifts of the Mississippi are the historical and geographical attributes that surround it. These include inequality, cotton, deprivation, heat, a lazy pace, roots music and a mighty ribbon of water that broadens as it descends the USA to become little short of a country within a country.

Here we have three gifted musicians who’ve taken their wonderment to produce a remarkable album. They write stories about war, floods, workers, segregation, bootleggers and the simple towering majesty of the river. The range of the themes and people who ‘speak’ these stories are beautifully crafted and diverse in their perspectives. Add some acoustic folk/roots music delivered with harmony, humour and memorable melodies and we may have an album that stands out from the current crop of releases.

Eric Brace, Peter Cooper and Thomm Jutz collaborate on yet another album and pen 13 out of the 14 songs. All three are accomplished musicians with a considerable catalogue of music between them. Brace and Cooper, two former journalists, have worked together for many years and been Grammy nominated. Jutz has had a career that includes playing in the bands of Nanci Griffith and Mary Gauthier.

“River City” tells us about the boats that work the channel and its men who tumble off at various ports for an evening’s entertainment before returning to carry on their journey. The song carries a heavy heart at the life of being continually in transit with all the leaving that this entails. The three voices, whether as a lead or in the chorus, work so well together often harmonising to give a depth and emotion to the lyrics.

The working river saw changes as sail gave way to steam. Inevitably some trades fell into disuse. “King of the Keelboat Men” has that Springsteen bitter undercurrent of proud and strong men being made obsolete; their talents discarded. “Drowned & Washed Away” revisits the vicissitudes and upheaval of the devastating 1927 flood. “Down Along The River” is a song about the role the river played in the 1860s’ Civil War. 

Recent history is about segregation. “Mississippi Magic” touches on a landmark that was key in the nascent civil rights movement. With a heartfelt conversational narrated start we see the unfolding conflagration of 1962 with conflict between white and black over an African American’s entrance to the the University of Mississippi. Never preachy and told from the perspective of a surprised onlooker this captures the era.

Acoustic albums are often beautifully played (as the absence of electricity seems to provide nowhere to hide). Whether it’s Jutz’s flatpicking or the plucking of a banjo we have accompaniment that compliments but never intrudes and creates space for those voices to enthral. Welcome to 2019, we’re setting the bar high.

POST SCRIPT

This is a tremendous album but the concept appealed to me after my 2015 bike ride down the USA:

(http://toronto-neworleans-orlando.blogspot.com).

I trundled through the Deep South leaving Memphis on Highway 61 and picking up the signs on the Blues Trail and absorbed the culture and geography. Landmarks were numerous from Bessie Smith’s place of death to B B King’s museum in Indianola and a night of being bitten by bed bugs. I only came across cotton once as I cycled into Clarksdale. Apparently it’s too thirsty compared to soya and probably not as lucrative. Other myths are that black folk still play the blues. Sadly not really, it seems a white person’s pursuit nowadays. All the black folk were helpful and kind (Including the inmates from the local penitentiary who wanted a light for their cigarette as they painted the car park at the field where I camped). Time on the Natchez Parkway will always live with me as will Natchez as I camped beside the river on a site with a huge RV looming over my one man tent. The next day I crossed the Mississippi three times before getting into Louisiana. The worst road surfaces in the USA welcomed me along with torrential rain as I approach New Orleans. The rain on a crossing across the Mississippi by ferry was so horrific that the operator invited me to sit inside for another trip until the weather passed! So I ‘did’ this part of the world and feel a little smug that i lived and pedalled miles absorbing all it had to offer and not just writing beautiful songs from a misty yet romantic notion.

The British Honours System: A Critique

January 18, 2019

I cringe every time the latest Honours are announced. This occurs twice a year. In total 1,350 of these accolades are handled out to ‘recognise merit in terms of achievement or service’. At best described as a peculiarly British arrangement where there are several levels of award from a suffix that you cam affix to the front of your name through to a large number of prefixes that you can tag onto your surname. These awards are handed out to Brits and other members of the Commonwealth or we can give ‘honorary’ awards to citizens of other nations. 

Their compilation is by a couple of committees and then the Queen advises the lucky winners of their prize officially on certain dates. If you get the highest accolade then Her Majesty or delegates invite you to Buckingham Palace where you kneel; the sword is tapped on your shoulder and you get to discuss briefly the weather and her nag’s prospects at Epsom in the afternoon racing.

The problem is about who gets these awards. It seems a right for politicians, sportsmen, senior soldiers, ancient rock stars, national treasures in terms of acting, radio or TV personalities, currently overpaid ‘captains of industry’ and probably a whole selection of people who’ve spent about a decade canvassing for one (or putting money into good causes to gain ‘credits’).

This nonsense started in 1348 and may explain some of the archaic titles such as The Order Of The Garter. In fact the most common Honours are Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (CBE), Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (OBE) and Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire. (MBE). The very reference to the British Empire is not only obsolete but frankly places it in a Netflix period drama.

If it is for service or achievement then why by heading a Government Department as a civil servant do you get a gong? You’re bewilderingly well paid, live a cloistered and privileged life and have another career of being a non-exec on all sorts of Boards (after you take your eye wateringly generous pension). Okay, you can do your job and climbed to the top of the ‘slippery pole’ but why should you get a bauble?

Captains of industry have tenures, sometimes long and sometimes short, where talent, good luck and timing enables them to earn £millions and have privilege in any activity they may want to participate in. After all this recognition they eventually get a Knighthood so that they can join their other lucky and lofty mates. A risk, of course, is that after your bank contributes to a global financial collapse: they might ask for it back as happened to luminaries at two UK banks. 

The celebrity strain is beyond a joke. This New Year saw Michael Palin and Twiggy get Knighted or made a Dame. Now to say anything derogatory about these two is akin to feeding a playful labrador puppy into a wood saw… but come on! Twiggy got the Honour for her services to fashion, the arts and charity? Google tells me that she has involvement with 13 charities. Well done and thank you but how many folk do you know who are devoting over 10 hours volunteering or caring where they get no money, no support and certainly a lot less than appreciation? I know a few.

If these celebrities make a mockery of the pecking order of worthiness then don’t start me on footballers, actors or musicians. It seems that the first hiring question for their future PR agency is what will you do to accelerate my acquisition of an Honour? “My qualifications are that I’m over 50 years old, have convictions for drugs and have mainly led a dysfunctional life that has enabled tabloid newspapers to have a splendid time telling people about me. I am also hopelessly rich, entitled and hob nob with junior Royals. However, I’ve lent my name to a few charities, I fit in a couple of functions a year and my PA has me sign lots of T shirt. In addition I can fit in a gig for free once in a blue moon. Surely that’s worth a Knighthood for my export sales and high profile?”

A mediocre political career on the back benches can get you a Knighthood if you vote regularly with the Government, say nice things about the leadership when required and retire when the tap comes on the shoulder to release your safe seat to an acolyte of the ruling junta.

Somewhere down the list with the junior accolades are ladies who’ve devoted many days a month to teaching disabled children to ride a horse or given 50 years of service to being a lollipop lady on a dangerous road in rain and snow. I love these folk and we walk in their shadows. Neither do I have a problem with awards of distinction such as bravery. I’m humbled to think what soldiers do on battlefields, who isn’t? 

I know a few men who’ve had an Honour. Were they worth it? Debatable but I do know one who spent a lot of time and effort trying to get the highest award (unsuccessfully). There are many who’ve turned down the offer when they’ve been asked if they want one. I’m happy with that but a few have gone out of their way to demonstrate their virtue signalling by declining the Honour – frankly, that’s worse than accepting it.

Due to political patronage and the desire to create ‘feel good’ on the front page of The Daily Mail twice a year this antique Byzantine practise will continue with some occasionally ‘sold’ for a donation to a political party. And with all this we sneer at corrupt practices in Asia and Africa.

Lastly, there are some monumental cock ups. Lovelies who’ve been awarded an Honour include Mussolini, Ceausescu, Mugabe, paedophile Jimmy Savile and traitor Anthony Blunt. I suspect there are a few current holders who glance nervously over their shoulder at the Serious Fraud Office and or some under-age sex investigation policemen.

Don’t get me started on the award of honorary degrees…

Record Of The Week # 56

January 17, 2019

Boo Ray – Tennessee Alabama Fireworks

I’m sometimes suspicious of the ‘copy’ that comes with a new album but I have no problem with calling Ray a ‘Self Styled Southern Troubador’. Firmly seated in Country Rock he writes killer tunes and delivers a lyric with memorable soundbites. Tennessee Alabama Fireworks refers to a sign just off Interstate 24, which is either a burden or gift. Ray was commuting between the two States about 80 times a year and on one side emotional problems abounded but on the other a soothing calm would return. Maybe this is a good time to mention that Ray turns his life into a song and more often than not he’s reflecting on disruption and hair raising scrapes. The title track off his last album Sea Of Lights was inspired by getting mugged and his car falling apart!

“A Tune You Can Whistle” starts the 10 track album and hits an immediate driving groove with pedal steel behind his slightly frayed but attractive voice. From the start you get the feel that this is a crafted affair. Ray is an accomplished guitarist and it shows throughout. Recorded at Nashville’s Welcome to 1979 studio in 5 days then he must have arrived well rehearsed. The ballad “She Wrote The Song” has a Southern Rock feel with lashings of Soul. Ray talks of a life of challenges and bad luck. His chorus tells us “It’s the pain pills that took away my sweetheart, It give me cold chills I think that’s gonna leave a scar”. This sounds like a sad chapter in his life but he’s now moved on.

“Don’t Look Back” is another fabulous arrangement. Hitting that groove again his preoccupation is guiding a Cadillac to Texas and leaving behind his troubles. Some energetic ‘out of your seat’ 60s Soul with brass introduces “20 Questions” with its examination of a lover’s motives and movements. Ray leads the vocal above wailing guitars and a girly chorus.

The album closes with a little romance on “Skin & Ink”. This demonstrates his talent as a Country wordsmith – “Drinking at the lost love lounge down on Dauphine street, She was looking at this naked girl peeking out beneath my sleeve, She said ‘Damn, that girl there on your arm it should be me’, Ice melting in my whiskey glass, girl if you only knew, The love took to get her there, and the hell she put me through, Yeah, yeah might be a little room on the other arm for you”. A honky tonk rhythm with fluid electric guitar from Ray takes this home.

I’ve loved his last three albums and if your Country music comes with some memorable hook drenched melodies, some Steve Earle mayhem and one foot in Southern Rock then this is for you. 

Record Of The Week # 55

January 5, 2019

J P Harris – Sometimes Dogs Bark At Nothing

Emerging as one of the best releases from the last quarter of 2018 is Sometimes Dogs Bark At Nothing. Harris has an interesting backstory of leaving home in Alabama in his mid teens and traversing the USA; now coming to rest in Nashville. Along the way he’s made a living with a variety of practical jobs including carpentry. I’d like to think that he’s made more money as a musician than spoiling wood because if this release is anything to go by then it is worth parting with your hard earned cash for.

Along the way he’s picked up some worldly wisdom and shook off some bad habits. Such a phase is captured in “When I Quit Drinking”, where against an acoustic backdrop he recounts the sober world he now inhabits; not with particular fondness. Maybe some reining in was necessary if you listen to “JP’s Florida Blues #1”, a rocking paean to a drug fuelled tour in the Sunshine State. This has a fun and well devised video if you make your way onto YouTube.

Harris seems to have some talented friends to call on for the album. The bassist, Morgan Jahnig (Old Crow Medicine Show) plucks throughout and produced the album. Guitar duties fall to luminaries such as Leroy Powell and Chance McCoy (another OCMS player). To this end you tell me if the guitar solo on “Longs Way Back” isn’t a pure Willie Nelson copy with its fluid and delicate runs.

I’d place Harris nicely in the Country Americana bracket with an acoustic platform occasionally rocking out with a hoe-down. However you’ll find him being claimed exclusively by Country when you hear “”I Only Drink Alone” which could place you in the 1960s with a Haggard or George Jones style of song. A honky tonk piano drives this gentle tune with a thumping base to a gentle waltz. 

His articulate and observational lyrics can be fun or profound and maybe benefit from reflection and composition over the last four years since his previous release. “Lady In The Spotlight” is a rueful and tender song with a Glen Campbell acoustic guitar rhythm where an aspiring female musician ‘wannabe’ finds that she’s not taken seriously as she tries to break into a new scene. Her looks count for a lot yet only as temporary entertainment for her potential mentor. 

This is an album of ten fabulous tracks and my favourite pick would be “Miss Jeanne-Marie” which brought to mind Travis Meadows with its melody and arrangement of a chiming piano and a heartfelt vocal up front with occasional electric guitar fills.

Harris has an attractive voice and an ability to write a tune. If I’d got to this sooner then it would have made my 2018 end of year list. I’d guess some of these excellent songs may end up on a bigger star’s album shortly. Cut to the chase and get the real thing now.

PS      Don’t be put off by the album sleeve!

Flat Tyres, Christian Louboutin & Jazz Hands- Week 51 : 2018

December 22, 2018

Firstly a correction: In the last blog I said that I listened to 10 hours of music per week. What a load of rubbish! If it is 40 hours then I may still be shy of the true figure. Sat at my desk, driving my car, riding my bike, writing the blog and most other places, if I am by myself. See my ‘Records Of The Year 2018’ for the fruits of this labour.

It was a week of learning. I started with the surprising fact that due to Health & Safety rules a postman now cannot change a flat tyre on his van. Our local postie, Andy, was stranded for an hour whilst a ‘man’ was called to carry out this deed. If you wonder why a Second Class stamp costs £0.58 then it is to cover this type of requirement. (Andy was similarly unimpressed with hanging around for an hour!). 

Other education involved the loss of 30,000 men in a bloody battle about 10 miles west from our house. Anna and I went for a walk and look.

The Battle of Towton was fought in 1461. A reputed 50,000 soldiers converged on this small settlement outside Tadcaster. On one side was the English King, Henry VI and on the other side the other English King, Edward of York (to become Edward IV). One was a Lancastrian and the other was a Yorkist. These two Houses disputed the throne and a battle in The War Of The Roses took place here. The weather for March was harsh with snow and high winds. The superior Lancastrian armies were down wind from the onslaught of the lesser number of Yorkists who slaughtered many Lancastrians in a hail of arrows whilst the Lancastrian bowmen fell short with their missiles. The Lancastrians did briefly gain the upper hand but when reinforced by the Duke of Norfolk’s army the Yorkists won the hand to hand conflict and put the Lancastrians to flight. The Lancastrians were slaughtered. Their critical obstacle was a river at the bottom of a steep hill called the Cock Beck.

They couldn’t cross it and became easy quarry. The legend has it that the Beck ran red with Lancastrian blood and that one form of bridge that existed was the corpses in the Beck that others used to cross over.

Written history in the 15th Century was thin on the ground and seldom accurate. Accounts of the duration of the fighting and the casualties varies but historians believe the total numbers who fought are correct but that the death toll ranges between 3 to 30,000. The remains that are still being dug up today provide skeletons with horrific injuries as fierce and brutal weapons made holes in their skulls.

Today there is a walk at the battlefield with graphics that tell you about the War and the Battle. It’s tranquil and dog owners shout at their pouches to stay on the path and greet other walkers with friendly greetings. To think that the population in England was only 2,000,000 in the 15thCentury and that today’s UK armed forces only amount to 80,000 you can appreciate the scale of this conflict.

Whilst this, in effect, deposed Henry VI and the Yorkists took the crown it was only temporary as the Lancastrians eventually prevailed in 1485 with Henry VI reassuming the throne and merging both Houses by marriage.

In other observations then ‘camping’ students were evident in York. Not in tents or in wintery fields but in coffee shops down Fishergate. Here your average young millennial will buy a coffee and then open their laptop up and hog a table for two hours. I was not impressed when unable to sit in a favourite café. Neither can the proprietors be impressed as they expect these ‘tables’ to turn a decent revenue during the day. Again on York’s burgeoning student populations such now are a number of students of Chinese descent that means we have a number of shops catering to their grocery requirements. Quite a shock really but their money is no doubt welcome in the local economy.

Lastly I think we should end on a Christmas note. I was sleighed (see what I did there?) with a visit to Harvey Nichols with the Favourite Youngest Daughter. She was seriously evaluating a £500 pair of shoes. This worked out at about £50/square inch. I was amazed that a girl who once wore a sparkly top to a school fancy dress day where the pupils were encouraged to dress as farmers was now thinking of spending her hard earned salary on such footwear. Things, as they say, change.

 As any fool know then the brand is denoted by the red sole…

I’ve been to two Christmas concerts this year. One was a serious, thoughtfully compiled and complicated affair at The National Centre for Early Music in the centre of York. The other was a group of septuagenarians in Santa hats (and jazz hands) singing beautifully and having a ball at a shopping centre in Leeds. Guess which one worked for me!

Merry Christmas

Records Of The Year 2018

December 21, 2018

It seems remarkable to me that I have listened to 287 new albums this year. A total of 195 were released in 2018 and another 92 releases were from earlier years. Nearly all the new releases were digital files given to me by three outlets. Two of them gave them to me as a pool of stuff to review. The 92 earlier releases can be various purchases of vinyl or CD’s that I’ve picked up in charity shops. I have an unquenchable desire for a complete understanding of many genres and at £0.50 a time then the world is your oyster. The big question is when do I listen to it all? In my study, in my car, washing my car, gardening, listening to Anna (!) and always on my bike. I erroneously put in one blog that I listened to 10 hours of music a week. Crap, frankly I may even be north of 40 hours!

I know several of you will scan the list below for artists you know. Sorry! Please trust me that I listen to all this alongside Earth, Wind & Fire, Bryan Ferry, Bob Dylan, The Isley Brothers, Genesis, Led Zeppelin, Joni Mitchell, The Rolling Stones, The National, Van Morrison, B B King, Eric Clapton etc. I always retain my bearings.

So below is a list of the stuff that stuck in my head or appealed to my taste. Where I don’t put a date then assume it is 2018. Enjoy:

  1. Courtney Marie Andrews – May Your Kindness Remain                    Singer Songwriter
  2. The Curse Of Lono – As I Fell                                                                          Rock
  3. Rich Krueger – NOWthen                                                                                 Singer Songwriter
  4. Sunny Sweeney – Heartbreaker’s Hall Of Fame                                      Country (2006)
  5. Bindley Hardware – Ever Satisfactory                                                         Americana
  6. Elkie Brooks – Live & Learn                                                                               Rock (1978)
  7. Kayla Ray – Yesterday & Me                                                                              Country
  8. Victor Wainwright & The Train                                                                        Blues
  9. Dusty Ross – Stolen Horse                                                                                 Country
  10. Ross Cooper – I Ride The Wild Horses                                                          Country
  11. Erin Enderlin – Whiskeytown Crier                                                                 Country
  12. Ashley McBryde – Girl Goin’ Nowhere                                                           Country
  13. Dave Kelly – Solo Performances : Live In Germany 1986 – 89              Blues (2016)
  14. James Scott Bullard – Full Tilt Boogie                                                           Blues Rock
  15. Tom Hambridge – The NOLA Sessions                                                           Blues Rock
  16. Two Door Cinema Club – Tourist History                                                     Indie Rock (2010)
  17. Brandi Carlile – By The Way, I Forgive You                                                   Americana
  18. Meghan Patrick – Grace & Grit                                                                       Country (2016)
  19. Candi Staton – Unstoppable                                                                             Soul
  20. Old Crow Medicine Show – Volunteer                                                           Country/Bluegrass

Courtney Marie Andrews – Pocklington Arts Centre – Dec 7th 2018

December 18, 2018

A kind of silent reverence greeted the diminutive Courtney Marie Andrews as she took the stage in front of a sold out crowd in North Yorkshire. Pocklington appears to be the home of Americana in these parts and a good audience is always guaranteed. Andrews’ has been touring for several months now in the USA and Australasia; this was the second date on her UK tour that even takes her to the Shetland Isles. It should have been her third gig but wear and tear on the voice meant missing a night in Birmingham. Resting up in London with friends downing the magic elixir of ginger tea appeared restorative!

Declared fit, she gave us 14 songs mainly from her Honest Life and May Your Kindness Remain releases but, as she said, playing an overseas audience meant she could play some other songs and we were treated to two new songs and a couple of singles that never made an album.

Of course the voice is the draw with that Joni Mitchell sound and a range characterised by raw, at times lonely, emotion and bathos. The lonely comes from the nature of her observational lyrics in which she reflects on people and situations around her. In fact you’d worry that having known her for the last few years that you’d end up in a lyric. Boyfriends beware.

 With this in mind she tells the story of a touring musician who declared on their first meeting that she was gay, adding that Andrews wouldn’t therefore want to tour with her. Nothing could be further from the truth as Andrews tells of her own upbringing with a gay parent. “Irene” sets out to fortify her new companion to stride forward and shrug off her doubts and guilt. Similarly we visit the On My Page album with “Pictures From Michael”. The unlikely subject is her incarcerated uncle who sent paintings from his prison up until the privilege was withdrawn (because of his continuing disruptive behaviour). Who could make this up? However, it is an insight into her openness about her life and family with a no holds barred approach.

It seems most American touring artists are unhappy about Trump and inevitably at some point we have the disclaimer. However she handled this thoughtfully by singing about the other side of the immigration argument. “Border” seemed a timely and thought through perspective on those arriving and striving in the USA without a partisan rant.

What became clear was that she is an accomplished musician. On guitar rhythms were strummed, melodies were picked and this accompaniment added to the voice. Switching to keyboards she introduced the unlikely topic of a song about a dog -Tucker. This was a home run in dog loving Britain! “This House” talks of a home albeit not the most organised of abodes but for a travelling musician it is her sanctuary. Sadly Tucker is now buried in the yard.

Toward the end she said that she would not be playing an encore but would take three requests. To my relief she accepted the shout to play “May Your Kindness Remain”, a song about a female free spirit who despite her frailties has a kindness that makes you forgive her excesses. On this song she really let her voice soar and maybe we got a sound that she’d be holding back for fear of undoing her recent rest.

As a person she comes across as serious, independent, hard working and wise for her years. As an artist she comes across as an alchemist with an ability to create melodies and lyrics that beguile. A truly beautiful night and let’s hope she’s back soon.

Books Read in 2018

December 17, 2018

I thought I’d list the books that I’ve read during the year. I am anything but a voracious, or a quick reader, but I do select my books with quite a bit of thought. There are some time gaps when I was cycling and not reading:

January – ‘The Chitlin’ Circuit and the Road to Rock n’ Roll’ / Preston Lauterbach

         The Chitlin’ Circuit was the name given to venues in the South of the USA where black artists would play to black artists                  up until the 1960s. Often fire hazards with shady proprietors would be the scene. Early blues acts cut their teeth                                and later stars such as Little Richard.

                  ‘Fats Waller’/ Maurice Waller & Anthony Calabrese

                An innovative American jazz pianist with a unique stride style. A talented musician who played The Cotton Club and was                          often  happy playing Classical. Iconic with an immense legacy.

February – ‘The McMillan Diaries Volume 2’ / Peter Catterall

                  Harold McMillan came to be PM after Anthony Eden’s turbulent premiership crashed at Suez. He kept diaries up until the                          time he resigned the leadership in the early 1960s.Observant and engaging if not always frank!

                    ‘Fats Waller – His Life and Times / Joel Vance

                      Another biography of the great man. Another book from my late father’s library.

March – ‘The Terri Clark Journals’ / Terri Clark

                 Terri Clark is a Canadian Country Music artist. She is, or was, a major star in mainstream US Country music at the turn of the                      millennium. A lightweight read I picked up in Canada the year before.

April – ‘Going To Sea In A Sieve’/ Danny Baker

                The ubiquitous cheeky chappy has been found on TV and radio over the last 30 years. A fabulous raconteur who writes about                   his early years. Seldom have I had such an engaging read.

May – ‘David Bowie A Life’ / Dylan Jones

               There is little that I didn’t think I knew about Bowie and more pertinently wanted to learn. However I heard the author                                interviewed on ’The Word’ podcast. His methodology of putting interviews together sequentially on Bowie’s timeline with little                added information made for an honest and revealing story through the words of those who knew him.

            ‘Finding My Voice’ / Elkie Brooks

           I had the records and had seen Vinegar Joe live in 1973 but my fascination came about through having heard her calamitous                   interview with Michael Parkinson some decades ago on radio. There was a complicated story in there? There was certainly a life               with considerable highs, lows and impressive striving. Also there were some stories about a couple of fabulous solo albums I                   needed to know.

July – ‘Going Off Alarming’ / Danny Baker

           The sequel to his first book. This took us further into his career. Still a great read if not as compelling as the first book. 

August – ‘Why I’ve Stopped Talking to White People About Race’ / Reni Eddo-Lodge

                  This book still sits in the best seller lists. My Favourite Eldest Daughter suggested I should read it. (I think we might guess                          why!) Part informative, part indisputable and part self serving for a certain political stance. Frankly if someone has a                                    characteristic that you cannot experience e.g. colour or sexuality I think it’s correct to hear it and quietly think about it. I think                    we can agree the way ‘forward’ is complex.

October – ‘Éamon de Valera : A Will To Power’ / Ronan Fanning

                    After attending a course at York University of Ireland between 1823 and 1923 I was interested to pick up the history from                           there. de Valera was a player in the struggle for Irish Independence before the creation of the Free State and remained in                        power until the 1950s as it’s President. A life of austerity, controversy, conservatism, an iron will and astute political                                     manoeuvring was the picture I gained.

               – ‘A View From The Foothills – The diaries of Chris Mullin / Chris Mullin

               Mullin was a Labour MP for Sunderland South and was Left Wing and a known novelist. His early career was as a journalist                        and his pursuit of getting justice for the convicted Irish who were incarcerated for the Birmingham bombings. The diaries are                    a great read. He is tempted into Government as a very junior minister (which muzzles him) and we hear about the boring                          jobs  and ultra controlled ways of New Labour. Humorous, self deprecating and permanently conflicted between his own                          politics and that of his Party.

November – ‘Decline & Fall’ / Chris Mullin

                         In effect sacked from Blair’s Government and never likely to join Brown’s he writes from the back benches as Labour                                  implodes. He left Parliament at the end of Brown’s Government.

                    – ‘Reporting The Troubles’ / Compiled by Deric Henderson and Ivan Little

                   Decades after the end of the Northern Irish Troubles this book contains short essays from journalists who reported them                           about people, usually ordinary, they met who were caught up in the death, hate and destruction.

December – ‘Untold Stories’ / Alan Bennett

                         I’d been meaning to read one of this great playwright and actor’s books and this appeared in a charity shop and was                                suddenly mine. Over 600 pages of a diary of his life and events. A man of a certain era with clear thoughts and immense                            powers of observation and recollection. A right riveting read….

Christmas Trees, Snowflakes & Brexit – Week 49 : 2018

December 7, 2018

Despite listening to probably about 10 hours worth of music per week I seldom listen to it on the radio, I listen to speech. I try and listen to intelligent stuff like the news or podcasts but occasionally I can’t get to turn the dial quick enough to avoid some tosh. Listening to BBC Radio 5 Live there was some *snowflake* slot about parenting. They were bemoaning that we all turn into our parents. This rueful reflection was coming out of old timers who were having anxiety attacks about turning 35.

Out of all the illustrations such as getting great pleasure at irritating your kids with banal and unfunny jokes at their expense came the observation that like their father one of them now had a dedicated stick that they kept for stirring paint. I’m guilty, as charged.

On a trip to London I was taken with some headphones Matt has that are wireless, that is, they don’t plug into a device, and pick up a bluetooth signal instead. I bought a pair and they can be a bit temperamental but there is no looking back now! On a bike there are challenges of where to put the device so that you can cycle and listen through headphones. This overcomes all this.

 (Yes, I know one school of thought is very anti wearing headphones when riding a bike. Frankly I can provide a long list of things more dangerous. I don’t listen during traffic congested urban areas.

So how do you get to sleep? Frankly amongst the many challenges we all face then this is not one for me. I become comatose very shortly after shutting my eyes. This is a considerable bonus when camping. However I always do something that I once read in a book. I start to think back during the day and think of the 10 positive/pleasing things that happened. This can be a telephone call, something complicated that you sorted out, the surprising delight of a breathtaking view in the countryside, finding that elusive item in a shop or, often, a superb bike ride where I rode well. Try it.

Brexit? Weirdly I’m enjoying the latter stages of the debate, it’s like a boxset with no end in sight. Every day a new position or information becomes evident and so each side either attempts to suggest it means nothing or the other side suggests it does. In the meanwhile it is a feeding frenzy for TV News Channels, newspapers and social media on a 24/7 cycle. 

I enjoy the tactics of the Government whether harnessing Cabinet ministers, the EU or the Bank of England, on separate days, to keep hammering home their point of view whilst pretending to be ‘honest johns’ just telling you the way it is. The Opposition who really don’t seem as a Shadow Government to mind Brexit but want to press and harry the Government into an Election or jettisoning the Prime Minister and just take every opportunity, irrespective of the merits of the argument. After this you get the implacable Brexiteers or the Remainers MP’s who I suspect mainly speak for themselves rather than the public. We as the spectators have a sketchy grasp on whether it is all doom and gloom. Whichever way it still has some way to go. I’ll pull up a chair.

 In attempting to save the planet we have moved from real Christmas trees to an artificial one. We haul this out of the loft every December. Not that I wish to be grumpy but assembling it takes as long as the 18 mile round trip to B & Q to buy and then stick into a base and push into the corner of the lounge. The artificial tree comes with every branch separate and needing to be hooked into the central shaft/trunk. Anyway we can all agree it looks very pretty.

Lastly on Christmas, Anna and I went to the local pub on Saturday night with other neighbours for our annual Christmas dinner. It was very convivial and the conversation and drink flowed. One neighbour recounted a less than happy Christmas Day lunch at his house last year. His new partner’s children attended. 

One daughter was very dismissive of his considerable efforts to produce a splendid meal. This didn’t bode well for an easy afternoon. The daughter, who by all accounts is carrying way too much timber, bemoaned her weight problem. The neighbour appearing sympathetic volunteered he knew what her problem was. All faces turned toward him to listen to his considered opinion. “Well you’ve got an over active knife and fork!” I’m not sure if she’s coming around for Christmas lunch this year.