Souvenir of Greece

So here I am again on another business trip to far flung places, this time to Athens. Not unlike my time in Capetown (see below), it was a few days before I actually left the hotel and saw some sights. Contrary to expectations, it rained for the first few days and the evenings were so bitterly cold that we barely ventured out of the hotel, amusing ourselves over a G&T supper by discussing the relative merits of the beaches at Southport and Cleethorpes, the sex life of caravanners (when they're not causing a queue on the A1) and our Dutch colleague's love of Hastings. The people here are friendly and hospitable (but we tourists always say that, in the slightly patronising and 'haven't got a clue as to what the natives are really thinking when we can't tell a parakalo from a kalispera' way.)
The men in kilts are called Evrones and they parade up and down in front of the Parliament building, stopping their routine just long enough for the obligatory tourist photo.

I next climbed the Acropolis, only to find that the Parthenon was covered in scaffolding, while a 'restoration' is under way, removing the original marbles to a museum and replacing them with plaster casts. OK, so many of the original marbles are in the British Museum and no, you can't have them back, but it looks like future generations who climb the Acropolis will have only a Disneyfied monument to look at. Lord Elgin might as well have demolished the whole lot and shipped it all to London. At least it would have avoided the climb. As the rain had finally stopped for a bit, I took a few pictures of the puddles. That way you don't see too much of the scaffolding.

On my final day in Greece, I was bored with Athens so took the Metro to the Port of Piraeus. Many of the ferries are sponsored by a certain mobile phone company. At least they added a splash of colour. Talking about foreign trips, I'd also been to Stockholm in September. It was closed.

Tranquillity in Worthing

After our recent overseas excursions, it was a pleasant change to spend a relaxing weekend on our own shores- in Worthing on the hottest day of the year. With Helen and Andrew, we took a stroll along the beach, carefully dodging the mad cyclists who had been given their own cycle lane alongside the pebbles. We watched the brave souls having a dip, including a young girl doing synchronised swimming - all by herself. I took a few 'trying to be arty' photos of breakwaters and fishing boats, then it was back into the town for a really good contemporary Indian meal.









Next day we visited Highdown Gardens, created by Sir Frederick Stern donkeys years ago to prove that plants could grow on chalk. It was on the site of an old quarry, so he had quite a job. But now it's a well landscaped garden, with an amazing variety of trees and shrubs from around the world, exotic flowers, roses, and ponds filled with some enormous goldfish. And best of all it's free. After the garden, we walked to the top of Highdown Hill on the Downs (81M above sea level according to Wikipedia - so it must be true.) There was a triangulation point on top, so we all took turns to interrogate Andrew as to what you actually did with one. There was also the tomb of an 18th century miller, which he'd erected himself 27 years before his actual death. Rumour has it that he was also a smuggler and used the tomb to stash his contraband. Rumour also has it that he used to adjust the sails of his windmill to alert other smugglers when the coast was clear of customs men.
[Little known fact - Signalling To Smugglers was a criminal offence in England until 2005 when those gallant and honourable men of Her Majesty's Customs were over-run by the cowardly and disreputable tax inspectors of Her Majesty's Inland Revenue.]
Anyway, you deserve another picture if you've read this far. At first sight it seems rundown, but look closely and you'll see positive signs of regeneration. A work in progress with a special charm. At least I thought so!

Anarchy in Cadiz

During our latest trip to Spain, we visited Cadiz - one of our favourite cities. Instead of uploading images of the cathedral, the old quarter and the fabulous beach, I thought I'd include some local graffiti. It's all a bit sad really, F.I.J. L. is presumably meant to represent the Federación Ibérica de Juventudes Libertarias , an anarchist youth organisation created in the Thirties as a secret and illegal organisation against Franco. Setting fire to the banks seems to be about the height of their current aspirations.

Doppelganger

So Mr Bond, you thought we wouldn't see through your cunning disguise...

Raymond Lowry - cartoonist

When I was at boarding school in 1970, I used to enjoy the cartoons of Raymond Lowry whose works frequently appeared in Punch and other magazines. I started a small collection of cuttings and even summoned up the courage to write to Mr Lowry. I received a very nice handwritten reply, thanking me for my interest and pointing out that I could find other examples of his work in Mayfair and Penthouse magazines. As these were the girlie mags of the day, I obviously had to take up his suggestion in the name of research.
Mr Lowry also enclosed four original cartoons which, he said, for one reason or another had never been published. I've now removed them from my website, so you'll have to ask me nicely if you'd like to see them!

French Leave

Well there's a turn up. Giving Spain a brief miss, in June we had a week's holiday in France. We drove down to the Loire Valley visiting Tours, Saumur, Poitiers and numerous Chateaux, following in the footsteps of royalty from Eleanor of Aquitaine to Edward VIII. We also spent some time in the Dordogne before journeying further south to within an hour's drive of the Pyrenees. And then all the way back again. Ellie has penned a few notes for the other website which you can find here:
Gerry & Ellie's Holiday in France, June 2007.

G'Day Possums

G'Day mate! Thanks for dropping in. Strewth, that was a bonzer weekend and no mistake! I must have got a bit stonkered as it's taken me a while to write this. Me and the missus were invited to a rip snorter of a party a few weekends back – the nuptials of young whippersnapper Simon and his new Sheila, Jo. Or his new Joey, Sheila - something like that. It was held in a big old shack in one of our older colonial outposts, quite a trek into the outback in fact. Crackin. On arrival we hit the obligatory bar, where the obligatory pom was serving red plonk from dinky little bottles in even dinkier glasses. Serves me right for not ordering the amber nectar I suppose. At least that came in a proper tinnie. Then it was time for the formal stuff. Pretty little sheila played the didgeridoo, elder Sis' read out some Abo poetry, then father of the bride sang Waltzing Matilda - A Capella no less. No messin with these guys. "And now you may kiss the bride" says the preacherman - but Simon wouldn't let any of us horny guys get a look in. Play Fair mate!

It had been raining cats and dogs all day, but the sun came out for the photos. How we laughed as the bossman barked his orders while his pretty little sheila assistant took the actual pictures. I bet he gets the cheque though. Evening tucker was good - a pound and a half of prime Aussie beef, washed down with copious quantities of red falling over liquid. Not a vegemite sanger in sight, but you can't have everything eh possums? I also found one of these little boomerangs. I tried chucking it away but, well you know. Her indoors got a little spoon, but it got a bit sticky stirring the coffee. After the tucker, we hit the dance floor and I showed the rest of them how dancing is done in these parts. Then it was time to bail out and hit the road back to the digs. Well, hooroo cobbers. Time to throw another yabbie on the barbie…..

Hands across the seas

I was playing around with Google Maps and decided to ask for directions to Washington, as we haven't visited for a little while. I was impressed by Google's software that suggested a pretty route going via France, but not too keen on the instruction "Swim across the Atlantic 3462 miles". Google's little joke no doubt. Pity they hadn't a route from London to Sydney.

http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=d&hl=en&saddr=London&daddr=Washington&layer=&sll=53.098145,-2.443696&sspn=12.073163,29.619141&ie=UTF8&z=3&om=1

Nobel Square

Just when I'm getting fed up with work and moaning that I've had no overseas trips since 2005, I get asked to pop overseas for a few days to attend a conference - in Capetown!

Now you'll already know my affinity for South Africa (of if not, have a look at http://www.turpin.demon.co.uk/Africa_2002.html) so I didn't take much persuading, even if it was hard to leave Ellie at home (but not that difficult - all it took was a promise for us both to go back again next year!). Travelling overnight, I arrived Monday and left Thursday, which must go down as one of my shortest trips to another hemisphere, but it was still rewarding. The first two days were hard work and, being based in the City area by the conference centre, I could hardly see Table Mountain for hotel blocks -I might have been in Canary Wharf for all I could see of Capetown. But after a hectic working Wednesday morning, our hosts took us out for the afternoon - to Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela had been imprisoned. Apart from seeing the prison and other grim sights, we also had a talk from one of his fellow prisoners - which was an amazing experience but depressing nonetheless. I had a free day on Thursday, so took the opportunity to visit the city centre and then walked to the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront. It was very much as I remembered from 2002 with lots of shops, restaurants and bars - and a bit too touristy in some areas. But I did come across this new memorial, which had been erected in 2005 to honour South Africa's four Nobel Peace laureates: the late Chief Albert Luthuli, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, former president FW de Klerk and of course Nelson Mandela. And that's Table Mountain in the background of course. Just to prove I was there!

Some old haunts

While we were in Spain, we went for a drive up to Los Barrios to see the incinerator (honest!) then took the back road to Estacion de San Roque. The storks were in their nests as usual, perched atop the electricity pylons along the railway track and across the fields. The pylons are cunningly designed to encourage their nest building, so it's a common sight here.

We also went for a late afternoon stroll along the beach, where we took these pictures. I think I'll make this my 'seashells' year.

Happy New Year!!

OK, so it's the 13th January and nearer to Chinese New Year than our old one. But we did only get home last weekend and there's been no time to write up the blog, what with work, ironing and all those other things that didn't get done while we were away. Anyway, here's a couple of piccies from our New Year celebration. It was also a bit of a house warming, being held in our new flat in Spain. Mary, Tony, John, Jan, Kirsty, Kelly and Becky all helped us see in the New Year and, shortly after midnight, stepped out onto the balcony to watch the firework displays. Thankfully it didn't collapse under us all. Ellie took the first picture, so here's one of her. Don't you think the woman on the telly looks a wee bit jealous?




Wanna see some more about the flat? Click here!