LOOKING OUT 2017! Occasional
Comments on the Passing Scene in 2017 Barry and Margaret
Williamson See also: Looking Out 2018, Looking
Out 2016, Looking
Out 2013, Looking
Out 2012, Looking
Out 2011
December 2017 (Greece)
At the Olive Mill. We spent
yesterday evening at a local olive
mill
(every villages has one), watching sackloads of olives (each about 50 kg with
leaves, twigs, whatever, mixed in) turn into top class extra virgin oil. 20
sacks (a typical batch) weigh about one ton, and it takes about 90 minutes to
produce about 150 litres of oil. This is a low figure because it's been a dry
year; in a better year the yield could be over 200 kg. The price at the mill is
€3.50 per kilo (say £3) and the mill keep 9% of the oil - or its equivalent
price - for the processing.
What a wonderful ending to all the hard work of getting the olives off the
trees, into the sacks and down to the mill in the first place! Then you just
hang about and wait to see how much oil you get! This isn't the sort of oil
that is ever going to find itself on sale in a supermarket.
The Village of Finikounda in the far
southwest of the Peloponnese has a small harbour for fishing boats, and seven
roads leading up into a network of lanes linking numerous tiny villages among
the surrounding hills and valleys. We were married in Methoni, in sight of its Venetian Castle, 6 miles along the
coast. This is where we enjoy traffic-free cycling and walking, regaining
fitness simply as a consequence rather than an aim, just being here.
Winter Weather. The weather remains
good; rather too dry for some orchardists whose olives, oranges, lemons and
grapefruit are slow to come to fruition. There was a recent period of
spectacular thunderstorms, with lightning shows out over the sea, but this soon
passed and the earth quickly dries under the Mediterranean sun.
Winter Quarters. We moved into our
2-room, en-suite, sea-view apartment at the end of a 6,215-mile (9,950-km),
15-country, 4-month motorhome journey from the UK. It was arranged on a
handshake with local fisherman Kostas and we pay him the required cash whenever
we decide to leave. He lives here with his German partner, Iris, and their
seven cats. Free cake for us last week, as it was Kostas's father's 97th
birthday! 1.5 litres of free olive oil have also come our way, fresh from the
family grove and the local mill! For more, we have to empty another plastic water
bottle.
Car Hire in Greece. The £10 a day
hire car, a newish Nissan Pulsar (we ordered a Ford Focus), arrived after free
delivery from Pylos about 14 miles away. It was driven by the head of the
family business (Adonis Kassimiotis) and the deal was sealed by his daughter
Aleftheria (= 'Freedom') with a gentle handshake, in contrast with that from
the grizzled Kostas. The Greek rental form required only one signature and that
resting on the car's bonnet out in the road. Again, we will pay cash when we
decide to return the car.
This is Where We Belong. This is a
country where the strictures and the competitiveness of capitalism just don't
work because the people have knowingly rejected all the commensurate stress and
lack of trust. They put their faith in their family and its network of
contacts. People in the UK are trapped in systems designed not for them, but by
and for capitalism. They live in a simulation of reality with false hopes,
exploited ambitions and the delusions of choice. Brexit is happening only
because capitalism of its nature rejects its own regulation and demands
limitless expansion.
Brexit. The 'democratic will' of the
65 million 'British People' to leave the EU has been 'expressed' in a fixed
referendum by 17 million (26%) of their least qualified and least well-informed
members. So, the other 48 million had better get used to it. Or do something
about it before it is too late ...
On Christmas Day we cycled to
Methoni and sat outside the café by the Venetian Castle, drinking hot chocolate
with nibbles and listening to the festive music from the bar ('Let it Snow, Let
it Snow, Let it Snow') - in bright sunshine, wearing shorts! After cycling back
through the hill village of Evangelismos we lunched on delicious cream of
reindeer soup (bought in Finland - how could we?!) and Margaret's Christmas
cake.
The Greek Christmas is very low key,
which suits us well. Can't think of anywhere we'd rather be. No cards or
presents - apart from gifts of oranges, mandarins, lemons and grapefruit, and
olive oil from Iris and Kostas (the apartment owners) from their orchards, and a calendar
from Zoe, Margaret's Dentist in Methoni. All three are involved with the local
animal welfare society, caring for stray cats. We have our own black kitten to
care for (Sooty) and will eventually
leave him in good hands. The fruit supplies us with fresh juice every morning -
and plenty over to make a year's supply of marmalade.
Governing the USA. Comparatively,
the US is in a better place than the UK. They have checks and balances in their
legal system, in the effectiveness of their senators and members of congress
(only one real success for Trump in a year), in their devolution of power to
States, in a written constitution, in a free press and a real freedom of
speech, etc. In the UK we have almost none of that, allowing a small group of
right-wingers to seize power and wield it entirely to their own ends. There is
almost no opposition, despite the utter absurdity of what is happening.
Governing the UK. However long the
Tories last in the UK, the damage they are doing will last for generations. It
will be a permanent imprint on almost every aspect of life in the UK. And yet
their only achievement so far is to propose changing back the colour of the
British Passport to blue! This is so that immigration and customs officers in
other countries (starting with France) can pick us out at once for special
treatment as foreigners!
Governing the Greeks. Since the
glorious days of Ancient Greece, the country has been successively occupied for
over 2,000 years by the Romans, the Vandals, the Slavs, the Crusaders, the
Venetians, the Turks, the Germans (along with the Italians and the Bulgarians).
The people still behave as if they were occupied: despising the government
(ignoring most of their laws), despising the police (who they rightly don't
trust), avoiding all forms of taxation (since they appear to get nothing for
it), actively supporting strong trade unions, etc. The government tries to
exert its ineffective authority through a corrupt bureaucracy staffed entirely
by nepotism.
Life Goes On. The Greeks get on with
life as they define it, focused on the family and the traditions and rituals of
the Orthodox Church (to whom Christmas is of little account). The so-called
financial crisis was caused by over-lending to Greeks from French and German
banks at the time of the 2004 Athens Olympics. It is these same banks who are
pushing the hardest through the ECB to get their money back, making it quite
natural to resist.
Where are We? We think of Greece as
being outside Europe and about a third of the way to India, distinct from Western
Europe in almost every way. And we love India even more!
Cycling in Israel and the Palestinian
Territory. In the year 2000 (can it really be so long ago?) we cycled from
Haifa round
Israel and Palestine. We especially remember the Burger King which saved our
lives in Nazareth (where everything else was closed); the Youth Hostel on the
Sea of Galilee; riding right round the Sea of Galilee on Margaret's birthday, the
hotel in Jericho with a portrait of Yasser Arafat who had stayed there; the
Jordan Valley and Dead Sea; Bethlehem and the Church of the Nativity; and of
course Jerusalem and its many religious sites. Sadly that city still remains a
focus for war and dispute, when it should symbolise the co-existence of
different faiths.
Timing Solstices. Have a nice Winter
Solstice: it looks like it will happen in Huddersfield tomorrow at 16.27 GMT when
you will have a minimum day length of 7 hours, 26 minutes and 33 seconds. This
will have grown to a maximum of 17 hours and 4 minutes by 21 June 2018. For us,
here in southern Greece, the minimum length of day tomorrow is 9 hours 37
minutes and 4 seconds, growing to only 14 hours 42 minutes and 27 seconds by 21
June 2018. For more of this, click here.
An Aware Sun. Our good friend Lisi
believes that the sun has consciousness (or personal awareness) and can decide
for itself when it stops travelling south and starts to come back our way.
Ionion Beach is certainly the most spacious Greek campsite we know, and a firm
favourite of ours for over 20 years. As you have found (for example, at
Corinth) there are not many sites here that can accommodate a 34-footer! Apart
from Triton II, and perhaps Gythion Bay, there isn't much choice.
Getting to Greece. We have taken many different routes to and from Greece,
both overland and via ferries to Italy. Our recent journey, following a summer
in Scandinavia, was through the Baltic Republics, Poland, Slovakia, Hungary,
Romania, Serbia and Bulgaria. We have also motorhomed through Albania in both
directions in the past, and we may well return that way in the spring. You need
to be aware that the roads are not always good through countries like Albania
and that there are very few campsites, perhaps making it more suitable for
motorhomes than for towing a caravan. You will need to buy some 3rd party vehicle
insurance at the borders of those countries not covered by your existing
insurance (eg Montenegro, Albania and Macedonia). Extra insurance is no longer
necessary in Serbia, which also has an excellent new motorway running right
through Belgrade.
The Life of the Nomad. (Note to a person on an extended guided tour
of South America) We are sure that the appellation 'Nomad' does not apply
when you are travelling with a self-selected group of equally affluent
strangers in the back of a luxury truck, staring out at the passing human zoo
of some of the poorest and most oppressed people on the planet. True nomads
travel in family or tribal groups in search of food for themselves and their
animals, often moving backwards and forwards with the seasons. Nomads don't
sell their home to travel for the fun of it during expensive holidays, neither
do they pass the responsibility for their movements to other strangers who do
it for the money. Have you measured the size of your carbon footprint recently?
Oases. We continue much as we chose
to do 23 years ago when we first began full-time travel. The motorhome runs
well, the bikes run well and we live, walk and pedal well. Along the way, we
have formed good relationships in numerous 'oases', places throughout Europe
(and Australia, New Zealand and the USA) where we have paused for a while, as
now. One such oasis was created for us on the Isle of
Skye
where, this year, a couple we first met in the far north of Queensland have
just bought a cottage and a double croft on the north-east shore of Loch
Dunvegan. To the north one can see the Outer Isles, to the south the Cuillins
and across the loch the Castle. A wonderful place just to be.
Memories of Hong Kong. Whilst in
Thailand, we made a short trip to
Hong Kong
thanks to Gulf Airways and the Panda Hotel in Kowloon. The plane circled for
half an hour over the airport out on Lantou Island, waiting for fog to clear,
the passengers comforted with readings from the Koran over the loudspeakers.
Hong Kong was pure nostalgia for Barry, looking (largely in vain) for traces of
his RAF National Service life there as a raw 18-year-old. Sadly, out at Kai Tak
on the edge of Kowloon City, under Lion Mountain, the RAF runway and all the buildings
had disappeared under high-rise apartments! The RAF's 7-day flight out to
Hong Kong
was a great experience; the return to the UK was a 2-week cruise in a troop
ship. So, be grateful for your 12-hours or less in the air and enjoy the jet
lag.
November 2017 (Serbia, Bulgaria, Greece)
Dear Mr Themis Vasilopoulos: “Thank
you very much for the excellent work yesterday on our Ford Transit Campervan.
We are very grateful to you and to your staff for the skill and the speed with
which you all work. We are particularly impressed by the way in which they
repaired the awning (tente) on the
motorhome, which was damaged as we were entering Serbia from Romania. We first
met you in July 2004 when you repaired a transmission fluid pipe on our Ford
E350 American motorhome. You have also serviced our present motorhome three
times: November 2014, February 2016 and now.
We thank you again, we congratulate you on the achievement of your business and,
as a father, you must be very proud of your daughters growing into successful
professionals.”
The Family Fligos. We're now at Camping Ionion
Beach
(on the mainland opposite Zakynthos), an old haunt of ours going back 20 years
and more. Family Fligos still own and run it, but the two brothers have fallen
out and the site is now divided into two unequal parts by what is known to the
Germans as the Berlin Wall. But what an amazing amount of good investment there
has been on both sides!
All the Senses. We are settled in
the southern Peloponnese, smelling, tasting, touching, seeing and hearing the
Mediterranean sun, sea and culture.
The Wonders of the EU. We arrived
here in northern Greece yesterday, having passed through Estonia, Latvia,
Lithuania, Poland, Slovakia, Hungary, Romania, Serbia and Bulgaria. Admiring
along the way all the many ways in which they continue to throw off their
dreadful 50-year histories of occupation, oppression and exploitation by
successive Fascist and Communist regimes. While the English Brexiteers look
smugly on from a safe distance, concerned only with maintaining their own
privileges.
Kromidovo Reviewed. Camping
Kromidovo
(aka Krummy Dovo) in Bulgaria is very
near the border with Greece. John and Sara run the place, currently helped by a
young couple from the Netherlands/Canada, although what there is to do here
(apart from being pretentious) defeats us. There is the usual Bulgarian house
turned into a Manchester Suburban Villa (that's where John comes from, with a
leaning towards Liverpool), with a small scruffy garden pretending to be a
campsite.
What makes this place amusing/get-us-out-of-here is their pretension towards
eco-friendliness (if that is the right hyphenated phrase). This adds up to
camper-unfriendliness (that is the right hyphenated phrase). The toilet is so
eco-friendly that it can't be used by mere mortals like us with our most useful
accessory – the toilet cassette. Grey water is re-cycled and therefore to be
minimised, and rubbish must be sorted into categories for the Bulgarian dustmen
to mix up again. Their 5 dogs (plus one tied up next door) make bull mastiffs
seem quite cuddly, but they are quite naturally eco-fertilising the ground.
The 5 km to get to the site/sight from the main (Sofia to Thessaloniki) road is
a nightmare, on a par with the worst we have seen anywhere. We were advised to
ignore our satnav through this and two preceding villages. Instead, we were to
follow the vague signs (two triangles drawn on a bit of wood) nailed up at
crucial turns that we wouldn't otherwise have dreamt of taking with our
until-then-cared-for motorhome! More hyphens. This is the place for
hyphenations. We only visited out of curiosity which, as you know, killed the
cat.
Camping Sakar Hills. (Note to Martin, its owner-manager-creator). “It is very
strange to be in Bulgaria and not be in the far south-eastern corner, on our
way to/from Greece and/or Turkey. What a lot of memories we have of people and
places we met through you and through being there. We wonder what has happened
to the Weavers, the Wilsons, the Kiwis, Matt's various and varying girl/women
friends, Bob, Derek and Babs, Mervyn and your neighbour, Stefka, to mention but
a few.”
October 2017 (Estonia, Latvia,
Lithusnia, Poland, Slovakia, Hungary, Romania)
Reassurance. Reply to a query: “Many
thanks for writing and may we reassure you at once that we are fine and still
on the road and fully engaged with the same old lifestyle, motorhoming and
cycling. This year (2017) we have travelled in France, Spain, Portugal,
Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland, England, The Netherlands, Germany,
Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and now Poland. Tomorrow
we cross the Tatra Mountains into Slovakia and then Hungary and so through the
Balkans into Greece for the winter. All in that order.”
Break In and Break Down. Reply to a
query: “We are very sad and concerned to learn of your problems, which you seem
to have ridden with some aplomb. As you would. So far (looks for some wood to
rouch) we have never had any attempts at a break-in, although we did have two
rides on the back of a breakdown truck with a Sprinter van we once had pulling
a caravan. Once in Bellinzona at Christmas in the Swiss-Italian Alps and once
in Slovenia when we were also repaired in Ljubljana. We hope that you are well
and not deterred from further travel. Have a look at our Pictures and Articles on the subject of
security.”
Excuse for not Replying. Reply to an
email: “As for your Australian friends, we copy their email below. To be honest
(as we try to be) we thought that it was just silly. All the stuff they asked
for and much more is on the website, which is why we had a website to put stuff
on. Particularly the places in Greece open in the winter, etc. Nowhere on the
website do we offer to answer queries, although we do if they are sensible and
within reason. On the whole, we have other things to do.”
Old Friends and Fellow Travellers. Reply
to and email: “So, again, thanks for writing. We have lots of lovely memories
of time spent with you and with our exchange of emails, which were very
worthwhile and you reciprocated with 5 articles which are still there for all
to read. That's what the website is all about - sharing.”
Restricting Numbers Entering the Isle of
Skye. Good news that the tourist tide is ebbing. We read of a proposal to
tax motorhomes coming on to the island: we would go further and ban all
non-commercial vehicles over 3.5 tons and tax motorhomes up to 3.5 tons. We
would also make it compulsory that motorhomes stayed in designated areas and
paid (say) £20 a night for the privilege. This way they would be (a) deterred
from coming and (b) bring some money into the local economy. Another idea is to
make the motorhomes use the ferry at a hefty charge and have only two sailings
a day. In other words, motorhomes are becoming a pestilence with little value
to the islanders, rather like the plagues that affect Australia now and then.
Here are three Guardian articles directly on this subject: One, Two, Three.
In Southern Poland. Here we are at
2,500 ft (750 metres) in Poland's ski centre of Zakopane. We abut the Tatra Mountains to the south, which
also form the border with Slovakia: a border we will cross in a day or two. The
Tatras rise to 2655 m (8,761 ft) and it's already snowing up there. They are an
extension of the Carpathian Mountains, which stretch east
and then south through Romania. Wonderful country! Crossing borders and
crossing mountain passes are at the heart of travel and it is very special when
they are combined as here (and throughout the Alps and Pyrenees).
Halfway to Greece. Southern Poland is
perhaps half way from the top of Finland to the bottom of Greece and, so far,
the journey has gone well and in no little way thanks to our trusty (don't lose
the 't' at the beginning of that word) Ford Transit. Our old friend
Glaswegian Dan is now settled into his regular spot on the south coast of
Sicily, having got down there yet again with one usable arm and one usable leg
and a regular supply of Vodka and Fizzy Lemonade. We may even meet him next
year, after Greece.
Marquis Motorhomes Strike Again. Writing to an angry customer: "What a
shocking story that just goes on and on . . . and still it continues. We will
certainly put your story on our website and make it a separate feature, but
linked to all the other Marquis horror
stories.
Your chronological sequence is very effective and fully speaks for itself."
Primeval Forest. We are in that
corner of northeast Poland, near the Belarus border, where the primeval forest
is home to bison, elk, deer, lynx and wild boar. Formerly a hunting zone for
Tsars (the bison were hunted to extinction by 1919 and had to be
re-introduced), it was attacked and occupied alternately by the Russians, the
Germans and the Russians again between 1939 and 1944. Thousands of Poles were
killed and whole villages burned.
At peace and peaceful (thank you NATO and the EU), it is now the Białowieża National Park and World Heritage
Site, with bicycle-friendly
trails
through the forest. As well as running wild, the animals can also be safely
seen in an enclosed reserve.
Who Were the Leavers? This area has
been well researched since the referendum, as many people (grown-ups) have been
intrigued to know why anyone would vote to leave the EU! It is now clear and
obvious that the 'leave' voters in the EU referendum did not represent the
great British Public. Rather they came from a very specific (and predictable)
sector: older, retired, white, male, in the lowest socio-economic categories,
unemployed or not in work, living in areas of industrial decay, unqualified or
with lower qualifications, living in rented social housing, readers of the
tabloid press, Tory rather than Labour – you get the picture.
Other factors include the lies told to (and believed by) the above sector (fear
of immigrants, lots more money for the NHS, a great future global trading
nation, freedom from control by the bureaucrats of Brussels, etc). It didn't
help that the question asked in the referendum was a simple yes/no when the
matter was of enormous complexity with far-reaching implications and
consequences, as we are now discovering. It tempted the nihilist to reject the
EU without having to consider any alternative, since none was offered and none
is still evident.
Further, no prior controls were specified for the required size of the
'majority' in the referendum. In other countries it can be 60%, and this can be
a percentage of those entitled to vote, whether they did or not. Only 62% of
those eligible to vote did so, and so the leave vote of 17.1 million represents
only 32% of those who were eligible to vote.
Finally, the Tories keep quoting 'the democratic will of the British People' as
expressed in the referendum to justify persisting in leaving the EU. They do
this because their real reason for wanting to leave would be very much against
the (as yet unexpressed) will of the British People: the establishment of a
Singapore-type, low-tax, low-pay, free-trading economy. Forcing the further
privatisation of state-owned assets (like the NHS), opening up British industry
and agriculture to uncontrolled foreign competition and creating a large pool
of the unemployed, keen to work under any circumstances. Undiluted Capitalism.
There is still time for leavers to change their minds, undo the harm they have
done and put pressure on parliament to vote to stay in the EU. They have until
March 2019 to do so! The UK is or was the 5th largest economy in the world
after more than 40 years of EU membership – what more do they want? At the
moment, after the referendum, our GDP rate of growth is the lowest in the G7
and the value of the pound has fallen by a sixth.
Camping at the Manor House. This camping
is in a field behind a hotel which was once a manor house, one of many in this
part of Estonia. They date from the days of German occupation in the 18th and
19th centuries. Rather like the Normans in England, the Germans took large estates,
built country houses, set up farms so that the peasants could work the land and
gave themselves titles like Baron or Lord. We still have our aristocracy and
their estates; the Russians, who occupied the Baltic Republics after the
Germans, used the estates as places for party officials. Now the manor houses
are mainly in state ownership or turned into hotels. The land has been divided
up and is being worked by independent farmers.
In Estonia. Today, we have moved
about 50 miles east along the north coast of Estonia and are now only about 35
miles short of the Russian Border. The road we used, Highway 1, is the main
route to St Petersburg and it's sad that we can't easily make that visit! So
it's south we go.
An Estonian Idyll. Driving another but very different 50 miles east along
Estonia's northern coast (towards the Russian border) we have arrived at one of
our favourite oases: the Kohvikann (or coffee pot)
Restaurant in a vanishingly small village called Palmse. This is our third
visit to meet Dieter and Julia: he is a German master-chef with international
experience; she is Russian from St Petersburg (not too far away) and a trained
interpreter. They met in St Petersburg at the hotel where they both worked,
came on holiday to this coastal National Park and decided to build an
exceptional restaurant in this remote place about 10 years ago. They included a
few places with electricity supply, to park a motorhome or a caravan, one of
which we first used in 2009. The restaurant is cosy and the menu a real treat.
Two years ago they added a small building with first class toilet and shower
facilities in two private rooms – all for €15 a night. The last place we stayed
in Finland, in Lahti about 60 miles north of Helsinki, charged €31 for a night
on a crowded and scruffy site, with limited facilities and no WiFi. We didn't
linger there!
Ferry from Finland to Estonia. Last
Sunday we crossed the Baltic from Helsinki to Tallinn, 50 miles in 2 hours, on
a ferry built around shops and a supermarket largely selling chocolate, perfume
and alcohol in all their many manifestations. Most of the passengers were
travelling by bus between the two capital cities and obviously enjoying the
chance to buy things that were either in short supply or expensive or both in
their respective countries. So much so that there were few places to actually
sit down except in the bar, with live loud entertainment. In the old days, we used to see Finns using
wheelbarrows to carry their duty-free alcohol onto the ferry back to Helsinki!
Now they sell trolleys for the purpose in the ship's supermarket!
Autumn in Finland. Sadly the weather
is now turning cold and wet, so it's time to follow the skeins of geese and
cranes that are flying south overhead. Talking of birds, in which we've become
very interested, we were intrigued to see a Crested Tit on the trunk of a fir
tree outside our motorhome window in northern Finland. The European Birds book
says they hide seeds in the bark of trees to provide winter food. But how do
they find the seeds again, given the millions of trees in the pine forests? And
how to store enough for months of snow cover? Amazing!
Marquis Motorhome Complaints by the
Hundred. We have also just published the survey we did last February into
complaints about Marquis that have appeared in motorhome forums and elsewhere.
It comes to about 13,500 words and makes painful
reading: it is amazing that Marquis are still in business! A comment we made
about them on Caravan Times was removed by the editor, who told us it was
libel. We replied that to be a libel you had to prove that it was based on a
lie. So he was being libellous in accusing us of libel!
Hessle Road in Hull Remembered in Song.
Last week Radio 4 broadcast a 30-minute programme based on memories of
Hessle Road in Hull, entirely from the words and songs of people who remembered
the days of the major fishing industry based on the docks of west Hull. This is
an area where Barry's mother, Doris, grew up, and although her family were not
involved in fish, they lived in the densely packed terraced housing off the
Hessle Road. The songs in the programme are new to Barry but reminded Margaret
of songs among the steel workers of Sheffield. Perhaps all the large groups of
manual workers (ship-builders, mill workers, railwaymen, dockers, miners, etc)
had songs like these, which disappeared along with their industries post-Thatcher.
It is also interesting to hear the Hull accent, which is a bit Yorkshire but
also strongly influenced by Hull's contact with the sea and centuries of trade
with the low countries: Belgium and Holland. The city was once quite isolated,
cut off by water to the east and the south and with 60 miles to the nearest
large cities – Leeds to the west and Middlesbrough to the north.
September 2017 (Sweden, Finland)
Easternmost in the EU. Two days past
the Autumn Equinox and we are still in the northeast of Finland, lost in the
country's limitless coniferous forest, travelling among its 187,888 lakes.
Tomorrow we aim to revisit the easternmost
point of the mainland EU, in a Finnish salient which pushes out into
Russia.
As Far Away as Possible. Hattuvaara: in Finland further
east than Istanbul or Cairo, there we hope to be as far away as possible from
the machinations of the deluded right wing of the Tory party, negotiating only
within itself. As few as 17.1 million of Britain's 65 million people may have
been tricked into voting against membership of the EU in June last year. They
sure as Hell didn't know what they were voting for. Now, 459 days later, even
Mrs May doesn't know what the future holds for our country.
The Reaction of Foreigners. Fortunately,
people we have met this summer in the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, Sweden and
now Finland, have lost interest in 'Brexit'. The initial shock and the
amazement have turned into disgust and derision. The subject doesn't rate a
mention in conversation or on their TV screens, but we notice that other
motorhomers and caravanners do give us more space when we park up for the
night! Perhaps they don't want us to see them laughing at our misfortune.
On the Road Again. We are doubly
pleased to be back on the road after spending four weeks in England, through
June and into July. Our overall intention now is to follow the retreating sun,
as Autumn progresses down to Helsinki, across the Baltic to Tallinn, through
Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania into Poland, remorselessly south through
Slovakia, Hungary and the Balkans and so into Greece. You could say that we are
exercising our European right to freedom of movement, while we may (oh, not
that word again).
Out of the Arctic. We crossed the
Arctic Circle coming south yesterday, into the realm occupied by larger trees
and more but lesser mortals. What a vast empty magical world it is up there,
beyond the Wall. How splendid to have the SatNav inform 'destination 160 km'
and 'next turn 159 km' and all on traffic-free roads, just dodging the
occasional reindeer or two. We can begin to think that we really belong, that
this world of trees and lakes is all ours.
Heading South. Writing of 'up here',
we have just calculated that we are still about 3,000 miles by road from
Finikounda, but we should make it by Christmas. We will regret leaving the
fascination of Europe's Arctic Regions. They draw us in the summer (away from
the madding crowds), as strongly as Greece does in the winter. If the seasons
didn't change, we would probably remain in one or the other!
Meeting in Ireland. Hopefully, and
being aware of the laps of the gods (or should that be 'lapse'?), we will meet
again on our return to England via Ireland next spring, keeping up another
tradition that has become an integral part of our yearly cycle of life. Unless,
and in contravention of the will of the gods, coincidence might intervene,
which means we might meet anywhere and at any time.
Over the Top. Margaret had a novel
campsite washing machine experience yesterday: it got stuck part way through
the 40 degree wash cycle and the temperature just kept going up and up and up.
When Margaret returned to see how things were going, the water was boiling and
the building was full of steam! It's an old machine seemingly from a laundrette
which was bankrupted in the early 1960's, but plucky Margaret managed to turn
it off. But then the machine door wouldn't open. And Reception didn't open
until 8 pm (yes, that's 2000 hours). However, theoretical physicist Barry
managed to edge a broken switch (with a broken nail) round to what hopefully
translated from Finnish as 'rinse' and it was started again with another euro
coin.
Compensation. There was yet another skill
to be deployed: at 2025 hours Margaret negotiated a free night in compensation,
something worth 20 euros. This was a net profit of 19 euros on the day, at the
cost of crumpled laundry and two grey items (dressing gown and shirt) which had
started out cream (blame the dye in the duvet covers).
On a Finnish River. We are currently
in the village of Muonio, camped by the broad River Muonio which forms the long
border between Finland and Sweden. We are in Finland but can see Sweden across
the river, easily and freely accessed over a bridge about a mile away.
We've driven some 250 miles north and east since we crossed the Arctic Circle
near Jokkmokk, the Sami capital of Swedish Lapland. The Sami are the indigenous
people of the region, about a third of whom still herd reindeer.
The Moving Circle. Today we arrived on the Arctic
Circle,
about 5 km before the Sami town of Jokkmokk. There's just a café
by the road with paid overnight parking including a hook-up, supposedly right
on the Arctic Circle. Unfortunately, it's moved about 1 km north (the Earth has
wobbled a bit). Tourist objects aren't supposed to move; it makes it too
awkward for people trying to run a café! But wouldn't it be good if a popular
lighthouse moved a few miles away, perhaps well out to sea. Followed by all the
tourists.
Camp Route 45, Hammerdal, in the Centre
of Sweden. Email to James and Julie: “Thanks so much for another great stay
on your campsite and a memorable last
night and send-off this morning. We enjoyed the fruits of your forest - the
Chanterelles (aka Pfifferling in German!) went very well with bacon & eggs,
and we've made 4 jars of lingonberry/blueberry jam this morning with berries
gleaned behind your campsite.”
Kolgardens Camping in Vilhelmina. By
early evening a sign went up at the campsite entrance 'Stugorna
Fullsatta' - but there are only 9 of them, all de-luxe with en-suite, kitchen,
TV etc. Doubtless very expensive. Also 22 camper places at SEK 250, which
includes good WiFi (continuous with no password), electricity, access to a tipi
and use of the services building. This contains a sitting room, a dining room
with log fire and TV, and a large fully equipped kitchen. There are 3
amply-sized self-contained bathrooms, each with shower, WC and basin, and 3
more separate toilets, each with hand basin - all unisex and very clean and
warm.
Happiness. The downside is the
morose owner (of Kolgardens Camping in
Vilhelmina),
who only appears to collect the money! There is no Reception, just a telephone
outside the services building to ring on arrival. You are told to find a place
and he will be round later for the cash (his card machine is not working!)
There is an honesty box in the laundry (SEK 25 for wash and SEK 25 for dry) and
another by the fridge and freezer with ice creams and drinks. When we came
previously at a busier time of year, he was around organising where and how we
should park, none too politely.
Dead Capercaillie. Some of the
occupied Stugas sport a game bag hanging on their verandah with the head of a
capercaillie sticking out of the top. Makes us angry - a bird of the forest
that can survive on pine needles in winter. They have been reintroduced to
Scotland after being hunted to extinction there. If only they could shoot back!
August 2017 (Germany, Denmark, Sweden)
What Time is It? Hur mycket är klockan? as they say round
here in Sweden when they want to know the time.
Dutch in Sweden. We are now tempted
to stay at Ange en route – this would be our third Dutch-owned campsite in a
row, something of a record since we left the Netherlands!
July 2017 (England, Netherlands)
Change of Nationality. Margaret, who
hopes that her roots are emerald green, is still seeking proof of being at
least a quarter Irish and therefore a dual passport holder. Although, somehow,
we feel that the nightmare of Brexit is slowly fading as the first dawning of
the cold light of reason begins to illuminate that which has been obfuscated
for the dim-witted and ill-educated! That is, the Great British People are
waking up to the con, and they are learning to say 'enough'. This way, they may
also detect that there are many other cons about, many deriving from the word
'cons-ervative'!
Finding the Escape Route. Any longer
in England and we were in danger of joining the great lumpen masses, sunk into
their own self-satisfied fa(s)tness, with all the reactions to external stimuli
of road kill! The very definition of 'insensate'. However, July has seen us on
the road again, aiming for a big arc across northern Europe towards the Baltic
Republics, south along the EU's eastern borders and through the Balkans and so
back into . . . Greece!
In Cyclist's Heaven. We are now
staying for a while on our third visit to this Dutch campsite in recent years,
aiming to retrieve some of our lost cycling fitness with a leisurely
re-introduction to the network of cycle paths in the surrounding De Hoge Veluwe
National Park.
This is a large area of gentle hills and extensive forest, unusual in a country
known for its lowness and flatness. Like the rest of the Netherlands, where
cycle paths exceed roads in length and greenness, dedicated cafés along the way
serve deserving riders with Appelkoeken
met Slagroom (apple tart with whipped cream) along with strong coffee and a
biscuit. Just to be among so many other
cyclists
is miracle enough: our bicycle bells have never stopped ringing.
Excellent Service. The motorhome
continues to run very well indeed, with a brand-new service and MOT from Dick Lane in Bradford, 365-day
EU-wide insurance from Safeguard and a road fund licence from the government.
The bikes were little used in the UK, too frightened to go out onto overcrowded
roads among uncaring drivers, although their maker, Paul Hewitt in Leyland, has
given them his usual service, ready for more welcoming countries. Let us hope
that we are worthy of all this munificence.
Changing Romania. We first visited
Arad in the late 1980's during the Ceausescu days, cycling from the UK to
Istanbul. The few shops were literally empty and people were begging from us;
what a change to today with vineyards and supermarkets and campsites. How
wonderful is the EU, of which we should be proud to be a member!
Looking Ahead. As to the future we
stumble on, increasingly aware that age brings a reduction in energy and
commitment, but not in ambition. Although we talk about it fully and frankly,
and although we looked at buying a 'holiday home' (36 ft by 12 ft) on a campsite near Pocklington on the Yorkshire
Wolds, we still await the 'end of days' without a plan but hopefully with
capability. Ironically, we own both a house and an inherited flat but it takes
months to remove tenants should we need a home.
Escape. We have finally escaped from
England on the Stena ferry from Harwich to the Hook of Holland. What a relief!
Re-energised, we have turned our attention back to writing and adding new
material to MagBazTravels and MagBazPictures.
Iceland Polluted. Email to Paul & Sheila Barker: “Thank you for
sharing with us what Iceland has meant to you, so far into your journey. The
mixture of unsullied splendour with that vandalised by mass tourism is far too
common, and spreading like a cancer.”
Losing Oneself. Independent
travellers by motorhome and/or bicycle, perhaps alone, have the ability (often
unused) to seek out places as yet undiscovered by the hordes. The ability to
get lost in a creative way:
Only when you are lost
can you find yourself
. . .
in unknown places
News from Koroni. The Koroni News is written and published by
Kostas, the retired sea captain who runs a souvenir shop in Koroni and also
organises the annual Koroni Art Festival. The town has a fishing harbour,
castle and a nunnery. The snippets in English within the News give a wonderful
view of the Greek way of life and Kostas's sardonic view of it. He has much to
complain about – his pension had been reduced 9 times when we met him, and the
flat he had bought to bring in some money from rent was making a loss. It
turned out that he had to pay tax on the rent, even when there wasn't a tenant!
We think that his souvenir shop is just a front; it is really a meeting ground
for all his mates, fellow conspirators and artists. We certainly enjoyed the
coffee on our visits.
Dear old Greece. Like a slightly
worn old friend.
Gardening. Writing to a friend: “The
garden has become your world, to make of as you will. How few have that
privilege. On the other hand, we make the world our garden!”
Memories of Camping Thines. Writing
to its owner: Many thanks for your email. It is really good to hear from you
and how nice that you remember us from so many years ago. We first stayed at Camping Thines at Easter in 2003,
and several times after that. We have many happy memories of being there, of
getting to know Despina, Yanni and Takis. And all those great cycle rides we
did, including round the Mani and out to Leonidas and back via Kosmas.
Freedom to Roam in Scotland. Answer
to an emails: “Thanks you for your email and your useful correction to our
interpretation of Scotland's Right to Roam. The offending line has been
removed: it was a much too optimistic extension of the increased freedom for
motorhomes to park overnight in laybys!”
Going to Leyland. Our 'plans' are to
move to Ribchester tomorrow (Sunday)
for a couple of nights, thus enabling us to take the bikes to Paul Hewitt in Leyland on Monday
morning when he has to fit two new middle chain rings, each of 32 teeth. Since
the Morrisons shop in Leyland has a very large car park, we can also take the
opportunity to reload the larder, a feat not attempted since Bridlington, after
what will be nineteen days. In practice, the only thing we have actually run
out of is bedtime drinking chocolate – just one weak mugful each is left.
June 2017 (Scotland, England)
To the Camping and Caravan Club. “I
am afraid the experience will deter me from using Club sites in the future. A
price of £27.25 per night for the Senior Concession Rate is ridiculous –
including useless WiFi. I understand that wardens are paid only a basic wage,
for the limited hours they are available, so I do wonder where the profit goes?
I am currently on an excellent privately-owned site at
Pocklington,
with brand new toilet/shower block, charging tourers £16 for the first night
and £14.40 for subsequent nights, including hard standing, showers and hook-up.
No annual club fee either. Admittedly, there is no WiFi - because they can't
guarantee a reliable signal, they don't offer it (a more sensible approach).
Either the owner or one of the four assistant wardens is available at any time.
How is it that your Club charges Senior members almost twice as much per night,
yet claims to be non-profit making?
A lot needs to change before you can claim to be The Friendly Club.”
On the Front. We did manage to
travel the full length (7 miles) of Blackpool's Golden Beaches, Pleasure
Gardens and the ironically-named Amusements. Behind all this is one of the
poorest towns in the realm with unemployment, drugs and premature deaths. No
wonder they voted to leave – not that they understood what they were leaving,
they just wanted to leave. And so we left.
Advice to a Scotsman. Please stop
electing Tories! Without you bloody-minded Scots, wreaking your revenge, the
Tories would be out on their ears by now, rather than next week or so ...
Another Letter to America. Thank you
for your emails and keeping us in touch with developments in the US of A. We
sincerely wish that we had a resistance movement in this country as active as
yours. And as likely of success as you are. With your constitution, balanced
politics, legal system and highly-educated population, you will win. We have
none of those and we feel that all is lost. The lunatics have taken over the
parliamentary asylum and are likely to be voted back in again this coming week,
such is the power of the right-wing propaganda machine.
Return to Blighty. We have returned
to England from Portugal via Spain, France, Ireland (South and North) and
Scotland. The latter gave us an idyllic 8 days on the Isle of
Skye
(always a centre of resistance to English occupation of their country) with 2
friends we used to visit in Australia's Queensland.
Greek Law Banning Free Camping. There
are such laws but we have never heard of them being used, not even as a threat.
Judging by the quality of the English in the sign (quite good) we guess that it
is not official. It may well have come from the guy who owns the nearby
campsite on the beach (Camping
Methoni).
It used to be a run-down municipal site, but was bought by Kostas (who else?)
who owns the supermarket on the high street. It could be an empty threat to
make people use his campsite. If it has been duplicated (so he can use it
regularly) that would also point to him. It is also likely that Kostas would
know the law, having had to use it to register his campsite.
Over the Sea to Skye. Here we are
after arriving from Cairnryan (on a ferry
from Ireland) via Loch Lomond, Glencoe and Fort William. Our friends from
Australia have a cottage, 12 acres of croft and magnificent
views across Loch Dunvegan. And enough space to park a motorhome with a
connection to the National Grid. If we didn't have to get back to Huddersfield
to sort out house and other problems, we would happily settle here awhile.
Cycling is limited to local single-track roads, but there is ample scope for
walking in the peninsula. A 7-mile return walk or ride over the hill leads to
the nearest shop in Glendale.
Democracy at Work. We do not live in
a society that can countenance proportional representation, and so most votes
are just wasted and do not count towards the final result. The Tories will be
returned, based on a minority of the total vote (36.9% in 2015) and they rely
on the results in only about 100 marginal constituencies out of the total of
650. In the last election, the SNP returned 56 MPs from 1.5 million votes while
UKIP and the Greens together returned only 2 MPs from about 5 million votes in
total!
May 2017 (Ireland, Northern Ireland,
Scotland)
The View from Scotland. Here we are
in Bonnie Scotland after a quiet crossing from Belfast on Wednesday. Good to be
back on the largest of the British Isles, if only because it means that our
next ferry will take us off it! But enough of that. Best leave what is
happening in England as simply 'unbelievable'. And not least because we have
had a taste of how it looks from the Republic of Ireland, Northern Ireland and
now here in Scotland. Their word for the play would be 'loony' along with all
its main actors.
Borderless Zone. We crossed from the
Republic of Ireland into Northern Ireland without even knowing it, so open is
the border. There were signs, in that the speed limit dropped from 50 to 30, distances
decreased by a factor of 5 divided by 8 and the pound replaced the euro (with a
falling and failing exchange rate).
Fair Exchange. The Scots are
reluctant to take Northern Irish £20 notes, while giving us the Scottish fivers
in change? This existential crisis got the Manager out of her office at Asda in
Dumbarton!
Finding a Place. The world spins on
regardless and we petty mortals must seek our own place among its heaving
billions!
May Flies. A photograph we took
showed a swarm of mayflies directly above our motorhome on the shore of
Ulster's Lough Neagh (the largest lake in the British Isles). As flies, they
have up to two days in which to live; dancing, meeting and mating in the air
and dying soon afterwards, the females pausing only to lay up to 3,000 eggs. Our Mrs May has not quite
reached this stage in her evolution, but wait until after the election. Strong
and stable in headlong flight!
We have much to learn from nature: for example the mayfly, by its very name,
knows that June brings the end of May and if only it were so for us . . . . .
From the Back of a Van. Given our
admittedly self-imposed way of life, we regularly find ourselves writing stuff
in the back of a Ford Transit van in a corner of some foreign field and sending
it out into the ether to see what happens next! It is very nice indeed to learn
that someone whose knowledge, experience and intelligence we greatly respect
does read it and even writes to thank us for it!
A Winter's Tale. We have been in
central Spain (mainly in the Royal city of Aranjuez, just south of Madrid) and
then in the mountains of Portugal, along its border with Spain. Then in April
we travelled north, over the Pyrenees and through France to Cherbourg for an
overnight ferry to the southeast corner of the Republic of Ireland. Here we are
now in the far southwest of this lovely country.
Life on the Road. This is how we
live and this is how we travel, with many a surprise and many an interaction
and new learning along the way.
April 2017 (Portugal, Spain, France,
Ireland)
Unsettled Home. Our Carado
motorhome
was built in Eastern Germany, near Leipzig, and although it is married to a
right hand drive British-registered Ford Transit, it no longer feels
comfortable in Britain and so wants to leave. It had thought of applying for
Permanent Residency Status, but that would be a lot paperwork and cost. On the
other hand, the Carado is now worried that if it does leave Britain, it may not
be allowed in again!
The Craic. On the campsite and
walking into Kilkenny, we interacted at some length with six people, including
a Black Friar at the Dominican Abbey and Priory in the town, and the woman who
sold Barry a Donegal Tweed cap. What lovely openness, with well-informed
opinions coupled with a willingness to listen and respond. Almost ideal
conditions for meeting fellow human beings, but rare in our experience. Kilkenny, the medieval
capital of Ireland until Cromwell came to destroy it, is a town of character
and characters.
Across the Channel. Email to a
friend in County Cork: We arrived on your island of Ireland yesterday afternoon
after a very smooth crossing from Cherbourg, having been upgraded to a cabin at
the front of the ship, seeing the way forward. An unusual experience for us!
The antithesis of the clew you once described
leaving Greece.
At Home in Ireland. We are now
settled nicely on the edge of Kilkenny ready to cycle in, on a warm and sunny
morning after a little rain in the night. We move to Cashel tomorrow, probably
via Kells, and then down to Skibbereen on Monday. How
refreshing it is to chat; how fluent are the Irish!
Advice to a Caravanner. As to
packing the caravan, you really don't need more than you would take for a
2-week holiday, as they do have shops on the mainland! In most countries you
will find Lidl, Aldi, local markets and supermarkets, pharmacies, etc. It may
be a good idea to buy maps before leaving, and stock up on any prescription
medicaments you need.
Your main problem could be not what to take, but how to carry the bicycles and
all the accompanying panniers, helmets, clothes, shoes, tent, etc etc in a
caravan, if you tow with a car. That is why we towed with a small van that
housed the bikes and cycling gear - though that brought its own problems with
insurance, ferry fares, etc. So we have gone back to a motorhome, finding a
model with a 'garage' ideal for the purpose, with the bikes safely stowed out
of harm's way.
Looking Ahead while Sleeping on the Sea.
We will be spending this Wednesday night sleeping on the ferry
from Cherbourg to Rosslare in the southeast corner of the Republic of
Ireland. We are going to spend some days with a friend near Skibbereen in
County Cork and then take another ferry from Larne in Northern Ireland to
Cairnryan
in southwest Scotland. And then north to Skye and then south to Yorkshire to
check on our house in Huddersfield and get an MOT and a service in Bradford.
And then, by early June, another ferry to Rotterdam or thereabouts and a
journey north into Scandinavia. But then, the best laid schemes o' mice an' men
gang aft agley . . . . .
Lost in Delusion. Too many people we
come across (we don't really 'meet') are distracted by the material values of
life - money and commodities and the social media. Lost in the simulation of
living that has been given to them, rather living a life in touch with its physical
realities. Missing completely the simple but powerful importance of travelling
under your own steam, your own body's movement and energy, on foot or by
bicycle.
Democracy in the UK? The UK is the
least democratic of any developed country we know. A political party can get a
completely dominating majority in the House of Commons on less than 40% of the
votes cast. Since perhaps less than 70% of those eligible do actually vote,
that means that under 30% of the electorate support a government which
nevertheless have a large parliamentary majority! Then there is the House of
Lords, the establishment, the dominance of the capitalist economy, the role of
the Monarchy and the Royal
Prerogative
from the days of Henry VIII, the absence of a written constitution, the
reliance on common law, the influence of a powerful right wing press, the
dominance of unelected ex-public school boys in all the major professions, the
state-sponsored religion of which the Queen is the head, the weakness of local
and regional government, the unrestrained activities of global organisations
and USA-controlled social media, the ownership of most of our industry and
utilities by foreign businesses and governments, etc, etc. Over half our
railway companies are now owned by foreign governments, and the Chinese, French
and Americans are building our nuclear power stations!
Democracy in Mainland Europe. Countries
in the remainder of the EU use proportional representation at national, regional
and local level, leading to governments that exactly reflect what the people
are saying. This means that coalitions have to be formed and compromises made. EU
commissioners are appointed by 28 elected governments and all new EU laws and
regulations are negotiated and agreed by ministers from those 28 governments.
There is also an elected European parliament which will have a crucial role to
play in negotiating and agreeing Brexit.
The Writing of WG Sebald. What
munificence from WG Sebald, an Aladdin's cave,
a cornucopia of ideas and challenge. I have 'Rings of Saturn', 'A Place in the
Country' and 'The Emergence of Memory' on my Kindle and I will move on to the
Rings after Austerlitz. I'm fascinated by the effect the Rings has on you, an
inveterate reader.
Sanity from Belgium. If you are in
danger of becoming lost in the fog of false news, alternative facts, right wing
propaganda and downright lies currently being propagated by the UK's (offshore-multi-billionaire-owned)
media and their running dogs, the Tory Brexiteers, please read the sober
reflections from a senior European politician at the heart of the EU's response
to the madness of May. Published today in the Guardian/Observer, the former
Belgian prime minister, Guy
Verhofstadt,
now the European parliament's Brexit co-ordinator, pulls no punches. He
describes the decision to call a British election 'nonsensical', a 'Tory
cat-fight', an 'attempted power grab', the 'internal machinations of the Tory
party', led by an 'hysterical right wing press' unable to face the 'bitter
realities of Brexit'.
“As a Belgian, I have a long-standing appreciation of surrealism. My colleague,
the European council president Donald Tusk, suggested last week that the script
could have been written by Alfred Hitchcock. For me, it is more akin to the unworldly
art of Magritte.
“Come the summer of 2019, unless the (UK) government requests transitional
arrangements to the contrary and these requests are agreed by all EU countries,
UK citizens will have no more of a right to holiday, travel and study in EU
countries than tourists from Moscow or students from Mumbai.”
The Propaganda of Brexit. Unfortunately,
we know people who will not be influenced in any way by the factual, sensible
and rational voices speaking to us from within the EU (that is from 27
countries in the rest of Europe). From where we are, people in England appear
locked in a miasma of self-pity, nationalism and nostalgia for days that never
were and therefore can never be again. Blaming 'Brussels' and 'Europe' for all
their self-imposed ills, they are about to vote to turn a malady into a
permanent disability.
The facts and the complexities of the situation are lost behind slogans ('Take
Back Control', 'Sovereignty', 'Global Britain', 'The Will of the British
People', 'Strong and Stable Leadership'), simply constructed, simply shouted
and often repeated to and by simple people! For more information on this
phenomenon, read Professor Richard
J Evans
on the techniques that destroyed democracy (the Weimar Republic) and enabled
the rise of fascism in Germany in the period 1919 to 1932.
Over the Top. We crossed the
Pyrenees yesterday, happy to escape the Catholic Easter frenzy of the Spanish.
We used a route new to us, through the short (3 km) Biesca
Tunnel
after a climb to 1820 m (6,000 ft). We don't know on which side our overweight
Ford Transit Carado performed the more impressively: the prolonged climb or the
steep descent. Overheated engine or hot brakes? With a cool driver and
passenger/navigator.
Cycling in the UK is promoted with
images of multi-millionaire doped athletes winning medals against competition
from third-world countries. The emphasis on speed, lycra, crash helmets and
racing on overcrowded roads just leads to more deaths and injuries. In mainland Europe, cycling is promoted by
building cycling paths for everyone to ride on simple reliable bikes.
The End of the Weimar Republic. These
are days much like the ones before the Third Reich was established in Germany.
We are not drawing comparisons with Hitler here, that's far too much, but with
the mechanisms that brought down the democratic Weimar
constitution
which operated in Germany between 1919 and 1932/3. The undermining of the free
press, of law and the judiciary, the scapegoating of foreigners, liberals,
intellectuals, socialists, giving free reign to capitalists, rearmament,
constant repetition of lies, facts ignored, appealing to the ill-educated
masses, etc, etc.
Portuguese Gratitude. A baker who
brought bread and cakes in his van each morning to the campsite said that we
English say 'thank you' too often. He said we should wait until the end like
the Portuguese do and just say it once, and that way we would save a lot of
time. This is obviously silly - we say 'thank you' every time it is needed
which in your case is a lot!
Portuguese Idyll. Over the weekend,
we started to move north through Portugal, hugging the Spanish border where the
hills and the quiet lanes, the fields full of wild flowers, the olive groves,
vineyards, the networks of villages, the cafes and tavernas, the friendly people,
etc, etc all remind us of the Peloponnese. There are Roman sites here, and many
megalithic dolmens, menhirs,
necropoli and sarcophagi, redolent of early man, as well as
magnificent medieval cities, castles and cathedrals from the days of Portugal's
maritime power and empire. We just like quiet country lanes with a café/bar now
and again, with a cup of coffee and a slice of cake. We also like the idea of
'now' and even more 'again'. Long may that be so.
Brexit as Seen from Portugal. There's
been big coverage of Brexit on the TV here, taking over the news programmes on
all the main channels. The note is one of sadness because Portugal has always
felt close to Britain, and English has become the second language here,
replacing French and Spanish. Several people we have met are self-taught in
English from watching TV films and documentaries which are often in English
with Portuguese subtitles. In Greece, these autodidacts have American accents; here
they don't!
March 2017 (Spain, Portugal)
The Orange Troll. Sally Seymour, a
friend in San Rafael just north of San Francisco, is a Californian of our
generation who claims descent from Thomas Seymour, brother of Henry VIII's Jane.
She is seriously shocked, as are many of her ilk, by a President she calls the
'Orange Troll'. She sympathises with our equivalent in the 'Brexiteers' and we
sympathise with her. What more can we do?
Propaganda. A standard and by now
familiar technique of all fascists with dictatorial ambitions (Stalin, Mao,
Hitler, Mussolini, Trump, Farage) is to answer rationality, facts, reason and
understanding of complexity with jibes, slogans, banners, lies and absurd calls
for nationalism and patriotism. Along with this comes the vilification of
foreigners or even compatriots with foreign ideas.
Letter to America. “Our hearts reach
out to you and to all the very many Americans of your ilk. What a shock it must
be for you. Unimaginable. Very much like the days before the Third Reich was
established in Germany. We are not drawing comparisons with Hitler here, that's
far too much, but with the mechanisms that brought down the democratic Weimar
constitution which in operated in Germany between 1919 and 1932/3. The
undermining of the free press, of law and the judiciary, the scapegoating of
foreigners, liberals, intellectuals, socialists, giving free reign to
capitalists, rearmament, constant repetition of lies, facts ignored, appealing
to the ill-educated masses, etc, etc.”
Outside Looking In. What a pleasure
it is to be outside of the UK in almost any of the other 27 members of the EU.
Out here there is sanity, rationality, warmth, friendliness and, above all, a
removal of an unremitting emphasis on nationalism, class, achievement and success.
Behind the Scenes. Brexit day is
tomorrow and we go into mourning. There will be no end to it, just years of
humiliation and retreat. There is hope for the USA in its strong constitution,
laws, media. Clearly many people must be working behind the scenes hoping to
set up an impeachment of the Orange Troll. With the man and his coterie gone,
perhaps the menace will evaporate.
On the Border. Given what Mrs May is
going to do singlehandedly on Wednesday, we thought we might celebrate Europe's
open borders by taking a picture of Margaret in the village of La Fontañera, on
the once closely-guarded frontier between Portugal and Spain. Margaret is resting
(it's on the top of a hill) on a stone which is the only indication that there
is a border. She is in two countries at once, with 'P' on the front, 'E'
(España) on the back of the stone! This is truly the free movement of people,
just a shuffle will do.
Free Camping? An Australian couple
had already hired a motorhome for 4 months to tour the UK and Ireland, when
they discovered that free camping, overnight parking, even inexpensive camping
just wasn't available. Perhaps they had been reading about France, Germany,
Spain, Italy, Greece, most of the rest of Europe. We pointed them at Scotland
and CL's. They knew of Brit
Stops
but there is a membership fee (£27), stays are only for one night and there is
an obligation to buy a meal or a drink or something.
Dick Lane Motors and Brit Stops. We
got the Brit Stops book and sticker free in 2013 in its early days after we had
given it a mention. One of the few unsolicited perks we have had, or even fewer
solicited ones, since we don't solicit. We didn't renew it but have used the
book once or twice since; once after getting off the ferry at Cairnryan. One
very good unintended consequence of using it was finding that Dick Lane Motorhomes in Bradford offered a free
overnight with hook-up and internet. So we spent one night there, en passant.
Impressed by the service foreman, Kevin, and the owner, Stephen, we arranged to
return for a service and MOT and, in more visits, they fitted twin rear-view
cameras, a directional TV aerial (a great boon out of the UK), 120-watts of
photo-voltaic cells on the roof and daytime running lights. The net result has
been a safer and more enjoyable vehicle, all with absolute reliability.
In the High Alentejo. For a while we
are staying in this remote Portuguese mountain village in the High Alentejo, 5
miles from the Spanish border, camped in an olive grove surrounded by cork
oak and chestnut trees - the nearest thing we've found to the peace of Greece.
But soon we will be on the road again, travelling back to the UK in May/June to
get an MOT and service and check on our hopefully refurbished and re-let house
(more of which anon) - probably on our favourite route using the
Cherbourg/Rosslare ferry.
Recommended Reading. We remember
your past recommendation of W G Sebald's book and, having just got it onto the
Kindle, look forward to attempting to decrypt it and discovering Ramuz. Didn't
know of Iain Sinclair, but we soon will.
Walking. Reading Sinclair's article
in the LRB, The Last London, and now having a copy of 'The Rings of Saturn',
I'm getting, perhaps for the first time, a glimpse of the complexities and yet
the wholeness of John's walks and his walking. I hope that makes sense. It will
take some time. I have always welcomed and enjoyed a new way of looking, a
novel understanding, a change of perspective, a different paradigm, and now
that is happening to my idea of walking. It becomes much more than just an
exercise, just going somewhere and back again, something to do when cycling
isn't possible, a basis for tourism or background to a hobby such as
photography. I can see, I think, that walking can become a way of becoming part
of that which is walked. Enough. I/we must read more and walk more and connect
the two!
Border: A Journey to the Edge of Europe.
What excellent writing from Kapka
Kassabova,
a Bulgarian woman now living in Scotland. Splendid. And we have learned so much
more about that little corner of Europe where three countries (Bulgaria,
Greece, Turkey) and countless cultures meet and have met over the centuries. We
discovered that land and travelled there for a while and came to know it, to
appreciate it and value it and to also call it ours.
Memories of War. I vividly remember
the protracted
bombing of Hull, weeks sleeping in an Anderson air raid shelter in the
back garden, collecting shrapnel as a hobby on the way to school, being
evacuated, dad Joe in Air Raid Warden uniform, the sirens, the bombers coming
and going, the sound of anti-aircraft guns, houses split open like a doll's
house, a V1 missile hitting the ground nearby without exploding, our bath left
full of water with a stirrup pump handy to deal with incendiary bombs,
rationing, gas mask drill and air raid shelters at school, warnings about
exploding toys being dropped (don't pick them up!), the radio full of nothing
but news of battles, going to the pictures with mother Doris for the big
attraction - the Battle of El Alamein, American tanks lined up in the street
waiting to be shipped out after D-Day, the GI's throwing food to a little boy
they had been told was starving, the celebrations on VE day, Uncles Charlie and
Cyril returning shell-shocked (now called post-traumatic stress disorder) from
fighting on the front line in Europe and in Burma, etc, etc.
The View from Portugal. Here the
evening news on all the main channels was taken up with reports and pictures
from Westminster, with many expressions of genuine sympathy and concern. But
this was also mixed up with mentions of Brexit. Why leave a Europe where we
belong, now at peace and showing clear solidarity with us against what is a
foreign threat to the whole of the continent?
En
Passant. The niceties and politeness of settled living cannot apply –
for example, we do not receive or send any Christmas cards! Our website,
MagBazTravels was initially programmed to our design by a young Australian
couple we met for only one night on a campsite
in Alexandroupolis on the Greek/Turkish border. They were in the archetypal
VW camper, just in from nearby Bulgaria; we were on our way into Turkey. From
that intense meeting arose a website now 11 years old and still growing!
Travels Down Under. We have been to
Australia 3 times in retirement. The first time we rode our bicycles from Perth
to Brisbane via Broken Hill, 3,050 miles in 55 days. The next time we stayed 6
months, bought an old campervan in Brisbane and drove right round the country
16,000 miles clockwise, selling it again in Brisbane. The third time we hired a
campervan in Perth and drove to Melbourne for the ferry to Tasmania, and then
up country to Cairns, eventually leaving the camper in Brisbane after 3 months.
Long-Term Travel. Sounds expensive?
Not if you travel independently and self-sufficiently in a motorhome or on a
bicycle with a tent.
Dylan and Sicily. Email to a friend
in Sicily: “Brilliant. You dipped down into your profound knowledge of the life
and works of Nobel-Prize-for-Literature-Laureate
Bob, and found exactly the right words to match the situation in Sicily as
highlighted by the Guardian. What a combination you have achieved. Putting
ideas together is what makes for a sense of achievement, of getting somewhere.
Creating a whole from its parts. Like making a journey out of many varied
experiences, skills and items of equipment.”
Walking the Edge. I remember the
day, returning from Skye, two of us got dropped off at the top of the Glen and
then walked the Aonach
Eagach Ridge. Fit as a lop in those days, with more confidence than sense.
Willing to go and have a look, rather than wait until they published the guide
book!
Iberian Shelter from the Storm. We
kept away from the coastal storms, retreating to Aranjuez where we took a campsite 'bungalow' for
a month, with the advantage of a parking space for the motorhome at the door
and use of the site laundry, restaurant and WiFi.
Cycling in Spain. The weather is
mixed now: last week cycling along the Jerte Valley from Plasencia in brilliant
sunshine wearing shorts, while today is cool and drizzly. Enjoying the bird
life especially, as we've seen the Cranes leaving (hundreds of them flying
north in V-formation), the Storks arriving, the Vultures and Eagles circling in
the Monfrague National
Park, and this morning four Azure-winged Magpies at our door (found only in
Spain and in Asia).
February 2017 (Spain)
The Silver Route. Early Plasencia
lay on the almost 1,000 km-long Roman road built in the first century AD to
link the Bay of Biscay in the north with Seville in the south. It came down
through Salamanca, Caceres, and the capital of the Roman Province of Lusitania
at Augusta Emerita (modern Merida). The route became known as the Silver
Route (Via de la Plata) in the
Middle Ages in the struggle against the Moors, south of the Tajo River. Now the
road is the A66, popular as a tourist route.
Storks. Before we left Aranjuez, we
saw the first Storks arrive from Africa and start refurbishing their nests
(reminds us of our house in Huddersfield). They were settling in the centre of
Plasencia as we had lunch at the Café El Parking! The river cycle path gave us
a 40-km ride and a good appetite.
Cranes were heading north for
Scandinavia after a winter in southwest Spain; perhaps as many as 130,000 in
total. They flew in a series of perfect V-formations and we could hear them
coming well before they came in sight, chattering away to each other
The Human Condition. We are all
human with intelligence, consciousness, humour, language, culture, empathy,
altruism, all trapped inside the infinite complexity of an animal's body, which
is bound to decline and ultimately fail. A body with a built-in mechanism of
self-destruction. We all know this simple truth but then live lives in its
denial, until it can't be denied in the death of those we love and in the
contemplation of our own ending.
Out of Control. How can so many of
us share these views, this reaction, this shock at what is happening in
England, and yet be so powerless? Why have we found all the ways there used to
be for influencing events suddenly cut off? Not just the decline of the Labour
party and with it the decline in politics, but the subverting of the media, the
gagging of the BBC, handing an uncontrolled internet over to trolls and liars,
the creeping privatisation of the education system, the dismemberment of trade
unionism, even the undermining of the legal system, etc.
Shattered Delusions. With Brexit,
like Trumpism, it seems we have to wait until it collapses dramatically before
the delusions they foster are shattered. But what a price to pay, something the
Germans discovered in 1945.
Satire vs Reality. We read recently
that there is a need for a new kind of satire. The old kind has been overtaken
in reality by the things that should be the subject of satire. If we are not
careful this new reality will go beyond the reach of satire.
Queues at the Border. This is a
border area we first passed through in 1989, cycling from the UK to Istanbul.
At the Turkish border were long queues of what were called 'Bulgarian
Turks' pushing their possessions in carts, being expelled into Turkey.
There was another long queue of Mercedes and BMW cars in the opposite
direction: Turkish Gastarbeiter returning
to work in Germany! We have been back into that intriguing corner of Europe
many times since, not least exploring its Thracian history.
Comment on a Guardian Photograph. The
Pomak
Ceremony mentioned in the photograph's caption would be the circumcision of the
little boy with the crown - a prince for the day.
Practice for the Real Thing? We are
keeping away from the Spanish coast, with its crowds and storms, and having a
break in a nice little campsite bungalow, with the motorhome parked right
outside. Enjoying the space, the en-suite, the endless hot water, good
internet, Spanish TV, etc. Perhaps this is practice for a real bungalow?
Years Roll By. It's too late for
this to be an end-of-year letter in the usual mould, and so many subjects on
which we reflect continue to unfold that there is no natural end point.
Perhaps, after all, life should be a continuous process rather than being
chopped into pieces called 'years', personal 584 million-mile (940 million-km)
journeys round our sun, each rotation counted with alarm, disbelief, increasing
regret and foreboding.
Eulogy. We all come to an age in
life when we have to think of what we have contributed to this world. As a
teacher, as a trainer of other teachers, as a husband, as a father (and perhaps
a grandfather). We exist inside ourselves, sometimes feeling restricted or even
trapped within the limitations of our own minds and bodies; but we also exist
in other people who carry our genes and other people who we have influenced and
who carry memories of us. People whose lives were made better because of us.
A Plague of Motorhomes. We also
agree that Europe is now set up for motorhomes, sometimes to the extent that in
summer there are can be too many of them. We used to have the far north of
Scandinavia to ourselves in the summer, but no longer. Many campsites in France
(there are 11,000 in total) and Germany are suffering from a lack of motorhome
customers, who prefer free or inexpensive informal camping places. Campsites
are changing over to providing cheap seasonal accommodation in huts, and permanent
sites for caravans with elaborate awnings.
Irony. It is somewhat ironic that
our parliament is so agitated by the USA restricting access to people of 7
countries on the grounds of ethnicity. Is this not the same parliament that is
voting to put the whole economy of the United Kingdom at risk in order to
restrict access to the country by people of 27 countries of the European Union
on the grounds of their ethnicity?
Greece vs Spain. As far as the
motorhome was concerned, Greece was a Terra
Nullius when we first went there about 30 years ago. Then came the
discovery of Greece by a few motorhome pioneers. Then its exploration. And now
we are still in the process of mapping the country to make it more accessible
to motorhomes. We have played a part of this contemporary process. One blessing
is that Greece will never become a coastal Spain.
Taking over the Asylum. Let us not
give up on America; it's still there. We've cycled across it twice, coast to
coast, from sea to shining sea, and we have every faith in it. Clearly the
lunatics have temporarily taken over the American asylum, ousting all other
asylum seekers, just as they have in the UK and might yet in the Netherlands,
France, Italy, etc. But in the US of A, unlike the UK and the rest of the EU, there
are many checks and balances and we should give them time to work.
English Civil War Fought on American
Soil. Americans are the people whose founding fathers should have stayed in
Britain and overthrown the British aristocracy and the establishment from
within, as the people did in France and throughout Europe in the revolutions of
the 18th and 19th centuries. Instead they went to America and created their
ideal system of government there. They still have a magnificent constitution
(compare the UK without one), complete freedom of speech, independent laws and
governments in each state (compare the UK) and a legal system which can
intervene and act at once (compare the UK) – and many other freedoms.
January 2017 (France, Spain)
In Need of a Visa. We Brits may soon
have the same restrictions as
Aussies in travelling in the mainland of Europe thanks to the madness of Brexit
and the antics of the lunatics who have taken over the parliamentary asylum.
Perhaps we will have to seek Greek citizenship - but the Republic of Ireland
might be easier.
Far from the Madding Crowd. Months
go by when we meet no native English speakers; indeed we find that we prefer to
be struggling with a tongue that is new to us. We also prefer, seek out and
value empty campsites, empty roads, empty restaurants. Returning to the UK only
when we have to, we are quite out of our depth among the crowds, the traffic,
the queues, the rat race, the overall tension and pressure. Our whole life is
based on moving on, leaving behind.
Limitations of the Caravan for a
Traveller. With a caravan you are very dependent on campsites being open in
the area you want. With a caravan, you can't really free-camp or use the many
'aires' available to motorhomes throughout Europe. You can't as easily stop and
park en route, or go shopping with the caravan. It's not as easy to stop for
lunch while on the road with a caravan. Caravans have a limited supply of water
– usually in a 40 litre container that needs taking to a tap to refill.
Caravans aren't as secure as motorhomes. Not suitable for narrow or steep
mountain roads. Not easy to turn round. Not easy to locate on most campsite
pitches without remote-controlled movers. And the total length (12 metres on
our last set up) is too long and more expensive for ferries and European
motorway tolls. Unless bicycles can live inside a tow-van (as ours did), they
have to hang outside on top of the car, on the back of the caravan or between
the car and the caravan.
Changing back to a Motorhome. Our
change back to a motorhome illustrates the dilemma. We had been in Greece for
the winter with our Crafter van and a very nice Lunar caravan. It had worked
well, often leaving the caravan on a campsite and using the van to enable local
walks and (importantly) cycling. We reached Corinth, thinking that we would
return to the UK overland through Macedonia, Albania, Montenegro, Bosnia, Croatia,
etc. But then realised that wasn't possible with a caravan. Much too unwieldy,
very few campsites, poor roads, not secure, etc. So we returned to the UK via a
ferry from Patras to Ancona in Italy and on main roads thereafter. Eventually
we exchanged the van and caravan for our present 7-metre, 3.5-ton German-made
Carado.
Advantages of the Motorhome. This is
great for long journeys with all the advantages the caravan doesn't have. We
have everything with us all the time and we can stop and stay more or less
anywhere that it is safe to do so. We can also carry a greater load safely,
including the bicycles inside the 'garage'. The only disadvantage is that we
lack mobility when staying on a campsite or 'aire' for some time. We get round
this by occasionally hiring a car locally (as we did over Christmas in the
Basque Pyrenees), or finding a campsite or 'aire' near a place of interest (eg
a historic town like here in Aranjuez) or somewhere good for cycling.
The Real Spain. After Christmas and
New Year on a quiet little site in the French Pyrenees, exploring the local
Basque-speaking villages, we have crossed the mountains into the Real Spain,
since Real is Spanish for Royal. There is an over-the-top palace here in
Aranjuez, the Palacio Real, dating
from 1561. It is now the royal family's place for their summer holidays and is
known as the Spanish Versailles (by people who haven't seen the real thing).
Arresting Experience. It was here a
few years back that we were nearly arrested for riding our bikes in the Park Real
in Aranjuez. But we retaliated with a Hoja
de Reclamciones – the official complaint form in triplicate. This is a
great idea. Every business in Spain has to have some Hojas handy, even a small café. It does wonders if you get poor
service – you just threaten to fill in a Hoja,
copies of which go the local government, etc.
Being Spanish. Spain is not one of
the countries where one feels an immediate sense of belonging. People seem
fully engaged in just being Spanish with little interest or attention for
anything else. They are polite and good at what they do, but they seem bemused
by the idea that they might speak a language other than Spanish and perhaps one
of the many local languages (eg Basque or Catalan). Where the holiday-makers go
on the Sunny Costas, the Spanish have learned to provide a version of Spain to
suit each nationality (an English Spain, a German Spain, etc) with appropriate
food in the restaurant and the right football teams on the television.
Don't Forget to:
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.
(Robert Herrick)
The Camping Car-infos Site. We don't
know how we missed it; this campsite
guide is really good in both its content and its mechanics. On the other
hand, Margaret is fluent in French which makes it easily usable. Others might
struggle.
Dick Lane replace Motorhome Medics. Sadly,
we no longer visit Cheltenham and Motorhome
Medics now that we have a downsized German motorhome on a Ford Transit
Chassis, a combination that did not suit the Dynamic Duo in the Golden Valley.
Instead, we have found a very good motorhome specialist on Dick Lane in
Bradford, a place where one can spend a free night with a hook up and WiFi.
There's competition for you - but too far away to compete!
Winter Weather in Pamplona. We are
now in Pamplona in northern Spain, having crossed the Pyrenees where there was
little sign of snow except on the highest mountains. In fact, we have had only
one day with a little rain in the last four weeks. And long periods of still
air – we seem to be well away from any weather systems! It's cold at night with
clear skies full of stars, but no frost so far. The sun by mid-morning has some
real heat in it.
Carrying a Motorbike. Our Carado is
typical of many motorhomes more than 6 metres long, in that the garage is built
out from the chassis and sits on a fairly basic metal framework. The total
payload for the motorhome is said to be 800kg, of which up to 200kg could be in
the garage. However, we found that with just two bicycles, a spare wheel and a
couple of crates of stuff in the garage (plus the gas heating boiler and 2 x 11kg
refillable LPG cylinders), the rear suspension was nearly on its stops. So we
had Goldschmitt
variable air bags fitted in Greece to support the rear springs and that has
worked very well.
Towing. It is unlikely that a tow
ball could be fitted to the framework which supports a motorhome's rear garage.
It would mean building a stronger frame to the chassis to take the extra load.
Over the Top. Onward and upward for
us too tomorrow, as we motorhome over the Pyrenean pass from
St-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Roncesvalles in Spain, and on to Pamplona. Coincidentally,
this is also one of the main pilgrim routes on the way to Santiago de
Compostela.
Basque Country. We've paused on a
lovely quiet campsite in the heart of the French Basque country. It has
mountain views, free WiFi, hot water and heated facilities and an enjoyable
walk from the village of Itsasu with its basic shops. Yet it is far enough off
the beaten track to Spain to be free of Brits on their way to the Costa del
Whatever. The Basques
within France, as with cultural and ethnic minorities everywhere, are
putting a lot of effort into defining and expressing their separate identity,
though sadly we cannot understand a word they say or write! One advantage is
that Basques, like us, speak French as a second language making it slow enough
to comprehend.
Over the Pyrenees for Christmas. During
the long Christmas weekend, we used a hire car out of Biarritz
to travel about 650 miles (1050 km) into and around northern Spain and back
again. To misquote Bob Geldof, we asked the question: 'Do they know it's
Christmas?' There were no signs of it on either side of the Pyrenees apart from
completely empty streets and roads on Christmas Day and simple cribs in the
Basque Catholic churches. Wonderful!
Cast of Brexit Characters. We are
certain that more intelligent and rational voices among the EU's elite will calm
the lunatics who have taken over the parliamentary asylum, and show them how to
back out of the one-way cul-de-sac they are blundering down. What delusions!
Mrs May as Henry VIII with the Royal Prerogative, Davies as Cromwell and Boris
as the Court Jester. We are all becoming the laughing stock of mainland Europe,
although none of it is funny!
Basque Churches. We visited three 17th C Basque
Catholic churches with their triple wooden balconies, which were added
after the churches were built and as village populations increased. It became
customary for the men to sit on the balconies and for women and children to
fill the body of the church. The very elaborate reredos contrasts with the
simplicity of the remainder of the church, although all the walls hold pictures
and statues. The churches are unsupervised and freely open to the public, with
large candles for sale at €1 each in an honesty box. The churches are
surrounded by graves, usually occupied by successive members of a family, all
beautifully tended and covered in ornaments, flowers and messages of love and
loss.
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