Jim the electrician kindly volunteered for the daily trip to the bakers. I received my lunch in a paper bag marked 'Jas. McLaren & Son Established 1893 Forfar'. The Forfar Bridie is a regional junk food peculiar to the locale. This 19th century invention is independently claimed by at least two bakers. Some people describe the Bridie as "a pus filled bag of pastry" or as "instant indigestion", however this is somewhat harsh. George the plumber opted for a more familiar national dish; a polystyrene box containing sausage, egg and chips. Being of slight build he could only manage half of it, then offered the remainder to me. I didn't want to "see good food wasted", to coin one of Mother's phrases.
McDonalds on the way back offers standard fare that unlike the Forfar Bridie has proliferated the world as the international junk food. I munch away observing the birdlife in the car park. A sub species of the Blackbird, the McBlackbird, slightly heavier than our common or garden variety, and, like the New Zealand Kiwi completely flightless. Its song is identical apart from an additional trill at the end of each phrase which goes '........I'm lovin' it". Then over there a large breeding pair of McHouse Sparrows (passer domesticus mcflurryensis)...
29th June Death On The A94
A pheasant made an error of judgement this morning that proved fatal, turning right instead of left. There was a slight bump indicative of contact with the sump of the Daihatsu. I glanced in the mirror and the once proud cock was motionless on the tarmac apart from a flurry of feathers. Any attempt at an avoidance strategy could have caused the derailment of the whole caboodle and a head on collision with oncoming traffic. The underlying assumption is that the loss of a human being would be a far greater loss than a bird that was only going to be shot around October time.
My life is worth more because of a subtle difference; I'm doing something useful like shoving flexible liners up chimneys, instead of just eating barley and periodically going Graaaarrrr!
Still, I regretted cutting short its life. Why? Because it was happy enough? Because it was an individual that hadn't fufilled its true potential? Because it didn't deserve to die, not like that? Because it was a thing of beauty (perhaps it was ugly on the inside)?
Or maybe it's just because I like birds?
Neural networks, aren't they amazing? You see its all down to the compartmentaIisation of thought processes, that's why I could simultaneously feel bad about killing the pheasant, whilst feeling nothing at all about the recently deceased pig whose flesh I had just grilled.
When business was quieter the death of the bird wouldn't have been entirely pointless, from my point of view. For the simple reason that I would have ordinarily pulled over to retrieve what would later cook for 30 mins in a medium oven.
My life is worth more because of a subtle difference; I'm doing something useful like shoving flexible liners up chimneys, instead of just eating barley and periodically going Graaaarrrr!
Still, I regretted cutting short its life. Why? Because it was happy enough? Because it was an individual that hadn't fufilled its true potential? Because it didn't deserve to die, not like that? Because it was a thing of beauty (perhaps it was ugly on the inside)?
Or maybe it's just because I like birds?
Neural networks, aren't they amazing? You see its all down to the compartmentaIisation of thought processes, that's why I could simultaneously feel bad about killing the pheasant, whilst feeling nothing at all about the recently deceased pig whose flesh I had just grilled.
When business was quieter the death of the bird wouldn't have been entirely pointless, from my point of view. For the simple reason that I would have ordinarily pulled over to retrieve what would later cook for 30 mins in a medium oven.
28th June Aqualung My Friend...
"Why go abroad for a holiday when the weather's like this?" commented Jim the joiner this morning. Well I made the point of applying factor 30 sunblock to my ears as soon as I got out of the car, and swallowed a different brand of anti-histamine from yesterday's sleeping pill, thus attempting to combat the twin evils of U.V. and pollen. However the general levels of dust from the building works tends to aggravate whatever allergy is presently on-going. Once bathed in soot from wrestling with a length of chimney liner which inexplicably I'd managed to cut a metre too short, the lyrics from Aqualung spring to mind: "snot running down his nose, greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes..." For me a holiday can now be clearly defined as any day that is completely divorced from domestic chimney problems.
27th June Waiting For Pollen
Each year I keep thinking I'm not going to get hayfever. It's a legitimate belief to cling to, because it seems to start later and later in the season. Way back when there was actually formal exams of some sort to sit in May, then I remember suffering it then. Now we're almost in July and its just kicking off. The duration of 4 weeks remains inviolate...
To celebrate, this morning I went straight into Davidsons The Chemist and opted for a different drug, some generic brand whose active ingredient ends in a different '-ine'. The manufacturers have you believe all you need to do is swallow one a day and you'll be able to walk through a thigh high meadow without so much as a snivel. Trouble is, you can't relive the day without the pill to compare the outcome, but I'm always left wondering if there's any actual improvement?
Of course, needless to say, these modern anti-histamines are engineered to avoid making you drowsy. When I finally rolled into the drive, Isabelle had started the BBQ. I ate one Tesco Traditional Pork Sausage feeling as if I'd been administred with a Pre-med. I climbed into the hammock whilst the general anaesthetic took over, the Lime trees were bright green against the azure sky. Eyelids felt heavier and heavier, at one point I was aware of a hen standing on top of me then walking around, probably Hettie, the small black one...zzzzzzzzzzzzz.........
To celebrate, this morning I went straight into Davidsons The Chemist and opted for a different drug, some generic brand whose active ingredient ends in a different '-ine'. The manufacturers have you believe all you need to do is swallow one a day and you'll be able to walk through a thigh high meadow without so much as a snivel. Trouble is, you can't relive the day without the pill to compare the outcome, but I'm always left wondering if there's any actual improvement?
Of course, needless to say, these modern anti-histamines are engineered to avoid making you drowsy. When I finally rolled into the drive, Isabelle had started the BBQ. I ate one Tesco Traditional Pork Sausage feeling as if I'd been administred with a Pre-med. I climbed into the hammock whilst the general anaesthetic took over, the Lime trees were bright green against the azure sky. Eyelids felt heavier and heavier, at one point I was aware of a hen standing on top of me then walking around, probably Hettie, the small black one...zzzzzzzzzzzzz.........
26th June Bob's Interesting Submarine Life
When I got there this morning I was already an hour late. Bob the householder was hanging around in the drive waiting, with a ladder against the roof, which was just as well as I'd forgotten the house number.
" What's the matter, couldn't get out of your bed, eh? Now I've got everything set up for you, ladder on the roof, lights in the loft, now what do we do first?"
It was obvious from the start that Bob was going to be one of those people who wants to take an active role in the days proceedings. This always seems a bit odd as the mere fact that I'm there at all implies that the client ie. Bob, has already agreed to pay me to do absolutely everything.
It would be perfectly legitimate for Bob to be out playing golf or sit in a deck chair all day reading a Wilbur Smith novel without even so much as offering me a cup of tea. Bob's "apprenticeship" lasted the whole day and during conversation I gleaned a lot of background information about his former life as a submariner.
" What's the matter, couldn't get out of your bed, eh? Now I've got everything set up for you, ladder on the roof, lights in the loft, now what do we do first?"
It was obvious from the start that Bob was going to be one of those people who wants to take an active role in the days proceedings. This always seems a bit odd as the mere fact that I'm there at all implies that the client ie. Bob, has already agreed to pay me to do absolutely everything.
It would be perfectly legitimate for Bob to be out playing golf or sit in a deck chair all day reading a Wilbur Smith novel without even so much as offering me a cup of tea. Bob's "apprenticeship" lasted the whole day and during conversation I gleaned a lot of background information about his former life as a submariner.
25th June The Language of Clothes
"Is that a new bag?" I said noticing a shiny green handbag being rated fot it's colour matching qualities in front of the mirror.
"Yes".
"How many bags have you got now?"
"About 50"
"50 ?! and how many pairs of shoes?"
"40"
"40! How many other articles of clothing are current?"
"About 10 pairs of boots, 75 tops, 40 pairs of trousers, 50 jumpers, 50 dresses, 20 coats...."
Of course when you look at the set of all possible combinations of clothing in this array it's a very large number, actually approaching infinity. We can denote this set (A).
But within the set of all possible combinations (A) there is a subset of clothing combinations which can be said to "go with each other", (B).
For example a bright green handbag could only go with what are known as neutral colours, colours that sit on the fence, like Switzerland during WWII.
Its clear that (B) the set of viable outfits is a much smaller number than (A).
And yet, due to the slippery nature of the concept, (B) also tends to infinity.
The subset (B) still gives such a broad palette of colour and texture that virtually any picture can be painted, any image created. or any statement made, fine tuned to the demands of any social event or context.
"Yes".
"How many bags have you got now?"
"About 50"
"50 ?! and how many pairs of shoes?"
"40"
"40! How many other articles of clothing are current?"
"About 10 pairs of boots, 75 tops, 40 pairs of trousers, 50 jumpers, 50 dresses, 20 coats...."
Of course when you look at the set of all possible combinations of clothing in this array it's a very large number, actually approaching infinity. We can denote this set (A).
But within the set of all possible combinations (A) there is a subset of clothing combinations which can be said to "go with each other", (B).
For example a bright green handbag could only go with what are known as neutral colours, colours that sit on the fence, like Switzerland during WWII.
Its clear that (B) the set of viable outfits is a much smaller number than (A).
And yet, due to the slippery nature of the concept, (B) also tends to infinity.
The subset (B) still gives such a broad palette of colour and texture that virtually any picture can be painted, any image created. or any statement made, fine tuned to the demands of any social event or context.
24th June: Lunch at the Tweed Mill
It's a bit of an operation manoeuvering Mother in and out of the car, involving a certain amount of heavy lifting. Once installed in a wheel chair we comported ourselves to the renowned value for money eatery. This is attached to the retail outlet. Plumping for shoulder of lamb ("I'll never eat all this"), Mother warmed to the task in front of her.
"You've got an amazing digestive system" I said.
"No, I never get indigestion" replied Mother.
Imagine if you could quantify the life's work of the digestive organs ...
"I think I need the toilet."
(Oh no)
"Right then, I'll take you"
"You've got an amazing digestive system" I said.
"No, I never get indigestion" replied Mother.
Imagine if you could quantify the life's work of the digestive organs ...
"I think I need the toilet."
(Oh no)
"Right then, I'll take you"
23rd June : Care home latest
"The food is very good, but I never thought I'd end up in a place like this. I suppose I'll draw my last breath in this room ... There's a night shift, they check up on you every couple of hours, you could've been lying dead for 6 hours and they'd take a very dim view of that. The staff don't talk about it if someone's "gone missing". You just assume that they've gone off the boil, kicked the bucket. Well I haven't seen much of so and so lately ... What time are you picking me up? 12? See you tomorrow then, if I'm still here ..."
22nd June The Road to Dolanog
Tomorrrow we will be wending our way southward to visit Mother (92).
Dolanog is the Journeys End, the terminus, the concluding chapter in life's novella, the final episode of a very long running soap opera, the last station on the sunset line, the concluding part of a long winded Icelandic saga, the John O'Groats in the fund raising bike ride from Land's End, the South Shields in the Great North Run. org for charity, the bottom line in the financial year ending 5th April 2006, the epilogue...
and coming up after the break, join us for; "This Was Your Life."
Dolanog is the Journeys End, the terminus, the concluding chapter in life's novella, the final episode of a very long running soap opera, the last station on the sunset line, the concluding part of a long winded Icelandic saga, the John O'Groats in the fund raising bike ride from Land's End, the South Shields in the Great North Run. org for charity, the bottom line in the financial year ending 5th April 2006, the epilogue...
and coming up after the break, join us for; "This Was Your Life."
21st June Awaiting The Results
Having just feasted at the "Bervie Chipper", I am aware of the microbial souvenir from Egypt that I am still harbouring. The Health Centre at Glaver Street has been duly informed, and provided with a small specimen.
Doctor Sheldon said it was probably food poisoning, which to me seems about as much use as saying "It must have been something you ate". This additional fauna once cultured must surely have some commercial potential? As its properties as a laxative are, at the very least, noteworthy.
Doctor Sheldon said it was probably food poisoning, which to me seems about as much use as saying "It must have been something you ate". This additional fauna once cultured must surely have some commercial potential? As its properties as a laxative are, at the very least, noteworthy.
20th June Music While You Work
Music played all day in a mind numbing continuous loop. The tape was running inside the plasterer's head, a medley of mainly ballads, folk, and country & western. To give the man credit he has a pretty good memory for lyrics.These he set to what almost invariably sounded like the tune of "Oh my Darling Clementine". By 4 o'clock I was starting to toy with the image of drowning him head first in a bucket of renovating plaster...
Then for a short time there was a surprise divergence into a Lennon & McCartney number; "Mmmmm she's got a ticket to riiiiiiiiiiiiiiide...mmmmm.." but this relief was an abberation, quickly reverting back to more familiar but interminable grooves such as; "mmmmmmm Like a bridge over troooooooooooooubled waters"... and so on until 5 o'clock.
Then for a short time there was a surprise divergence into a Lennon & McCartney number; "Mmmmm she's got a ticket to riiiiiiiiiiiiiiide...mmmmm.." but this relief was an abberation, quickly reverting back to more familiar but interminable grooves such as; "mmmmmmm Like a bridge over troooooooooooooubled waters"... and so on until 5 o'clock.
19th June Two types of Unspeakable
The plasterer at work today fired a whole lot of questions at me. Cause I'd never met him before, and I still don't know his name, I didn't really want to speak about anything. I'd already been let in by the two cleaners who had a back door key. Lorna says "I'm not going to get into trouble for letting you in am I"? I'd never met her before either but unlike the old plasterer her name was easier to divine... As is the fashion with *young people" she was wearing one of those tops that never seem quite long enough, and when she bent down to pick up the hoover, there was the name tattooed on the small of her back in large letters. "You must be Lorna then?", maybe she isn't Lorna at all, anyway what if she changed her name, then what? I saw the whiskery plasterer trying to engage in light banter with the cleaners but being even older than me his world view would come across as something akin to a veteran of the Boer conflict. Like I say, that only left him with me to go on at, hence the questions.
Truth is the unspeakable happened 20 yards from the back door here in Dunblane. Now a decade later there isn't anything that can be said...The sound of kids shouting drifts over the hedge at play time, Its like nothing ever happened and at the same time it'll never go away...
Truth is the unspeakable happened 20 yards from the back door here in Dunblane. Now a decade later there isn't anything that can be said...The sound of kids shouting drifts over the hedge at play time, Its like nothing ever happened and at the same time it'll never go away...
18th June BBQ at Pete's
The BBQ featured an outdoor display of things you don't normally put in a Microwave Oven; soap, an egg, a grape cut in half, cd's, a burning toothpick, various metal things and by far the most spectacular, the Grand Finale; a light bulb. I wonder though if the UV has strained my eyes, not to worry though. Most things either generated a flash of plasma, or exploded. Some did both.
Isabelle was annoyed when I used the fish slice, (which had previously played some role in the display),on the tomato salad; said I might have swallowed powdered glass, we'll see...
Conversation turned quite naturally to the end of the world, which is just about nigh according to the current level of the Greenland Ice cap. But why shouldn't the Chinese build a new coal fired power station every 2 weeks for the next 30 years to keep pace with demand? (I'm exaggerating here but I forget the exact figure). We sit there in the rain with mugs of tea (Made in China), in the slow midsummer dusk under the gazebo, only £14.99 (Made in China). According to Wee Davie Attenborough we'll be alright though if we just half fill the kettle (Made in China) and fit low energy light bulbs (Made in China).
Isabelle was annoyed when I used the fish slice, (which had previously played some role in the display),on the tomato salad; said I might have swallowed powdered glass, we'll see...
Conversation turned quite naturally to the end of the world, which is just about nigh according to the current level of the Greenland Ice cap. But why shouldn't the Chinese build a new coal fired power station every 2 weeks for the next 30 years to keep pace with demand? (I'm exaggerating here but I forget the exact figure). We sit there in the rain with mugs of tea (Made in China), in the slow midsummer dusk under the gazebo, only £14.99 (Made in China). According to Wee Davie Attenborough we'll be alright though if we just half fill the kettle (Made in China) and fit low energy light bulbs (Made in China).
17th June Blue Bird of Happiness
Time slowed like a reel-to-reel tape on the wrong speed. Having now fast forwarded to the end of the day, I know I'll probably re-record over most of it. In the end, the majority of these tapes end up lying in an attic gathering dust, some lost completely. Then after you've finally gone, it's like Mission Impossible; "This tape will self-destruct in 5 seconds".
I'd like to keep one bit from today; a swallow perched on the mantlepiece, twittering. Then it was banging into the windows, like a huge moth. Eventually, I grabbed it like a budgie but strangely thinner bodied, like there was nothing to it hardly. When it took off, I wondered if it had seen the Nile?
I'd like to keep one bit from today; a swallow perched on the mantlepiece, twittering. Then it was banging into the windows, like a huge moth. Eventually, I grabbed it like a budgie but strangely thinner bodied, like there was nothing to it hardly. When it took off, I wondered if it had seen the Nile?
16th June More Aphorisms (Continued)
"PATIENCE AND FORTITUDE CONQUER ALL THINGS".
First thing I set to on the problem of the leaking radiator, applying heat with oxy-acetylene just enough to melt solder. Care required! Since for the purpose of gas welding the flame is hot enough to melt steel. After three failed attempts, and with growing impatience, I'm afraid I got a lttle careless with the flame and completely melted part of the radiator. Effectively, what was a leak prior to this would now be a gush...
"DIFFICULTIES ARE THE THINGS THAT SHOW WHAT MEN ARE..."
The Daihatsu is dead, or as it were, in limbo until Monday. That's according to radiator repairman in Dundee. Now I'm in possession of a hired van and haemorhaging money as I'm sitting back at Bellview House. "OUR GREATEST GLORY IS NOT IN NEVER FALLING BUT IN RISING EVERYTIME WE FALL".
First thing I set to on the problem of the leaking radiator, applying heat with oxy-acetylene just enough to melt solder. Care required! Since for the purpose of gas welding the flame is hot enough to melt steel. After three failed attempts, and with growing impatience, I'm afraid I got a lttle careless with the flame and completely melted part of the radiator. Effectively, what was a leak prior to this would now be a gush...
"DIFFICULTIES ARE THE THINGS THAT SHOW WHAT MEN ARE..."
The Daihatsu is dead, or as it were, in limbo until Monday. That's according to radiator repairman in Dundee. Now I'm in possession of a hired van and haemorhaging money as I'm sitting back at Bellview House. "OUR GREATEST GLORY IS NOT IN NEVER FALLING BUT IN RISING EVERYTIME WE FALL".
15th June Jouney To Aphorism
Having departed from Bellview House I noticed the fuel gauge was right down at the letter E. I decided to apply one of the handy aphorisms from the now defunct Allan Gammie Farm Supplies Personal Memo Diary for 1979, which I'd been reading last night, for want of anything better. "The best time to worry is tomorrow"... Well, as you may have noticed, there is, these days, a dearth of local filling stations due to economies of scale and the like.
But I decided to press on, and of course, if I got stranded, then I'd worry about that tomorrow I suppose.
After an abortive detour I turned off into Strathospital pleased to arrive at the 24 hour services. It was only after paying I noticed water dripping from under the bonnet.
A major leak from the radiator I'd so keenly soldered up for reasons of thrift. But then "Anxiety is just interest paid on trouble before its due..."
I topped up the water and drove as far as MacDonalds and ordered a Happy Meal. (Only 1.95 if you pretend to be a child or that you have one concealed somewhere, but why would a kid want a coffee instead of coke? £2.67 if you admit to being an adult) . Still, "Nothing in human affairs is of much consequence..."
A few more miles and the temperature was off the scale, the ordance survey map suggested a bridge over a river. I had to improvise an empty tub lowered down on a rope, took about half an hour to get enough water, but I avoided cracking the engine block. Next I borrowed a watering can full of water from Adjin's house and limped on. At the next boiling over, with about 20 miles to go it was time to reach for another aphorism;
"Don't despair, but if you do, keep working through the despair..." Mmmmm...?
I took off the radiator cap to just let the water boil like a kettle and put the heater on full blast inside like a second radiator. This total loss system actually lost less water due to the reduction in pressure, but now, even with the windows down, it wasn't just the engine that was overheating ...
Eventually arriving home I am reminded that an urgent request to buy fish food had slipped my mind...
Ah well.."A good conscience would have made a soft pillow.."
But I decided to press on, and of course, if I got stranded, then I'd worry about that tomorrow I suppose.
After an abortive detour I turned off into Strathospital pleased to arrive at the 24 hour services. It was only after paying I noticed water dripping from under the bonnet.
A major leak from the radiator I'd so keenly soldered up for reasons of thrift. But then "Anxiety is just interest paid on trouble before its due..."
I topped up the water and drove as far as MacDonalds and ordered a Happy Meal. (Only 1.95 if you pretend to be a child or that you have one concealed somewhere, but why would a kid want a coffee instead of coke? £2.67 if you admit to being an adult) . Still, "Nothing in human affairs is of much consequence..."
A few more miles and the temperature was off the scale, the ordance survey map suggested a bridge over a river. I had to improvise an empty tub lowered down on a rope, took about half an hour to get enough water, but I avoided cracking the engine block. Next I borrowed a watering can full of water from Adjin's house and limped on. At the next boiling over, with about 20 miles to go it was time to reach for another aphorism;
"Don't despair, but if you do, keep working through the despair..." Mmmmm...?
I took off the radiator cap to just let the water boil like a kettle and put the heater on full blast inside like a second radiator. This total loss system actually lost less water due to the reduction in pressure, but now, even with the windows down, it wasn't just the engine that was overheating ...
Eventually arriving home I am reminded that an urgent request to buy fish food had slipped my mind...
Ah well.."A good conscience would have made a soft pillow.."
14th June Return to the Planet Work
Holiday re-entry is a complicated manoeuvre involving precise alignment. The immense friction slows us down as we enter the upper atmosphere of the Real world. This is followed by a communication blackout lasting several
13th June Not Egypt
MORNING GATWICK
Rain isn't that bad after all. Well not just the rain but the fact that last night there could be no rain, whereas today there is. Weather forecasting in Egypt seems to be much less of a challenge; The daily temperature displayed at the hotel was in semi-permanent letters.
In fact Gatwick isn't that bad after all. Well not just the official attitude but the fact that it seems better to have a society that considers it abnormal or barbaric for 85% of women to be missing some vital part of their genitalia, rather than normal or desirable.
http://www.hartford-hwp.com/archives/32/018.html
Rain isn't that bad after all. Well not just the rain but the fact that last night there could be no rain, whereas today there is. Weather forecasting in Egypt seems to be much less of a challenge; The daily temperature displayed at the hotel was in semi-permanent letters.
In fact Gatwick isn't that bad after all. Well not just the official attitude but the fact that it seems better to have a society that considers it abnormal or barbaric for 85% of women to be missing some vital part of their genitalia, rather than normal or desirable.
http://www.hartford-hwp.com/archives/32/018.html
12th June Egypt VIII
SIGHTS OF THE SOUK
We set off in horse-drawn single file; there appears to be no age limits in the under-class world of carriage driving. One driver appears to be on leave from primary education, whereas ours is partly mummified by tobacco and has long been in need of dental restructural work. Like the convoy of popular song we are soon joined first by ice-cream vendors then children. All this to the tune of the myriad horns of congested traffic, braying donkeys, groaning lorries and tooting motorbikes...
Chaos levels reach a new high once we turn off into the narrow street market.
Shoppers of all ages are squeezed between piles of tomatoes, horses hooves and carriage wheels. Soon there is horse-drawn gridlock. Added to this the street is undergoing some sort of telecommunication laying program. I look down as the narrow solid rubber tyres roll perilously close to the open manholes and the sandaled feet, fish from the Nile, stall holders legs and aubergines...
Another hold up? And a man with possibly the worst job in Egypt is mixing a batch of concrete by hand in the middle of the food vendors. Above, his workmates balance on wooden scaffolding lashed together with coarse fibred rope...
We turn back onto a wider avenue of "speciality shops"; fan belts, raw lamb hanging by a hook, hairdressing and beauty, welding and fabrication shop, juice bar, and a nothing but rope shop...
NILE BOAT NAME SPOTTING
Nile Adventurer
Suitable for young unmarrieds, mainly men (Flak Jacket not included).
Nile Romance
Aimed at young couples or 2nd honeymooners.
Nile Explorer
Similar to above but slightly less adventurous (Includes hire of Night-scope).
Nile Cruiser
Fully licensed for the overweight and indulgent.
Se-Nile
Perfect for retired people from England.
We set off in horse-drawn single file; there appears to be no age limits in the under-class world of carriage driving. One driver appears to be on leave from primary education, whereas ours is partly mummified by tobacco and has long been in need of dental restructural work. Like the convoy of popular song we are soon joined first by ice-cream vendors then children. All this to the tune of the myriad horns of congested traffic, braying donkeys, groaning lorries and tooting motorbikes...
Chaos levels reach a new high once we turn off into the narrow street market.
Shoppers of all ages are squeezed between piles of tomatoes, horses hooves and carriage wheels. Soon there is horse-drawn gridlock. Added to this the street is undergoing some sort of telecommunication laying program. I look down as the narrow solid rubber tyres roll perilously close to the open manholes and the sandaled feet, fish from the Nile, stall holders legs and aubergines...
Another hold up? And a man with possibly the worst job in Egypt is mixing a batch of concrete by hand in the middle of the food vendors. Above, his workmates balance on wooden scaffolding lashed together with coarse fibred rope...
We turn back onto a wider avenue of "speciality shops"; fan belts, raw lamb hanging by a hook, hairdressing and beauty, welding and fabrication shop, juice bar, and a nothing but rope shop...
NILE BOAT NAME SPOTTING
Nile Adventurer
Suitable for young unmarrieds, mainly men (Flak Jacket not included).
Nile Romance
Aimed at young couples or 2nd honeymooners.
Nile Explorer
Similar to above but slightly less adventurous (Includes hire of Night-scope).
Nile Cruiser
Fully licensed for the overweight and indulgent.
Se-Nile
Perfect for retired people from England.
11th June Egypt VII
BALLOON FLIGHT PREPARATION ?
We crossed the waters of the Nile by boat with the onboard gratuity of an early morning coffee. This was possibly a mistake on top of an even earlier pot of coffee from room service, given the well known diuretic properties of the ground bean.
The group piled into another minibus and we sped off, narrowly avoiding mule drawn bowsers of drinking water. On through the awakening West Bank until we caught sight of the waiting balloons like enormous swollen bladders in the sky.
As we passed the twin Collossi of Memnon and the toilets it became obvious there was no rest stop in the tight schedule. Bumping to a halt on the dusty ground, there were no bushes due to the complete lack of precipitation so I shuffled off a bit.
However this was entirely futile on account of the tension. The combined effect created by 40 to 50 people milling about, not to mention, the prospect of leaving the ground in a basket next to a couple of tanks of compressed flammable gas.
And all this supported by what looked like a few strands of particularly thin wire rope....
THEN I GOT HIGH....
The pilot of our balloon proudly bears what looks remarkably like a Blue Peter badge pinned on his uniform. The genuine hope is that this isn't his only qualification pertaining to aeronautics? (It later transpired that the BBC had filmed an episode earlier in the year). As we awaited lift-off in the basket, each blast of the burner seemed to have a flame grilling effect on the upper part of the body like a piece of steak...
At last the burly ground crew let go their weight and we were ascending like a lift in a tower block... Soon gliding over mud brick houses and invading other peoples early morning privacy as 20 cameras whirred and bleeped "Look, down there, people still in their beds!" (Pulling a blanket over their heads).
My chief concern during the flight is the flame retardant qualities, if any, of the balloon fabric. Could the nylon just shrivel like a crisp packet in the back of a fire? Secondly, the smell of gas. Could we be engulfed in a fire ball? Then there was, always in the background, the question of how we would ever find a place to land at the mercy of the wind at 1500ft?
In addition there were some minor niggles about power lines and the presence of the other balloons. But the sun rose as normal and there were no english language headlines to be written.
WHY EGYPTIAN MEN CAN BE A BIT MENTAL
Mr Mohammed at the bookshop is 32, has never touched alcohol and never kissed a woman despite being engaged. The required money for setting up home still hasn't
quite been saved. Therefore holding hands is as far as the relationship has been allowed to go. Mr M seems reasonable enough but is deeply perplexed by teenage couples holidaying here and obviously sharing a bed as Boyfriend/Girlfriend?
Mr M. functions as a 32 year old, but due to the constraints of society, family and his own Faith, remains in one respect, somehow trapped at the early teens snogging at parties stage of life. This partly explains why life is easier if women keep fairly well covered up.
Mr Ibrahim is older with a teenage son and also seemed reasonable enough to start with, but since phoning the room and turning up at the hotel has metamorphisised into a full blown stalker...
Isabelle seems to exude some fateful allure for a wide spectrum of Egyptian men..
"..I need to see you again Madam!.."...
We crossed the waters of the Nile by boat with the onboard gratuity of an early morning coffee. This was possibly a mistake on top of an even earlier pot of coffee from room service, given the well known diuretic properties of the ground bean.
The group piled into another minibus and we sped off, narrowly avoiding mule drawn bowsers of drinking water. On through the awakening West Bank until we caught sight of the waiting balloons like enormous swollen bladders in the sky.
As we passed the twin Collossi of Memnon and the toilets it became obvious there was no rest stop in the tight schedule. Bumping to a halt on the dusty ground, there were no bushes due to the complete lack of precipitation so I shuffled off a bit.
However this was entirely futile on account of the tension. The combined effect created by 40 to 50 people milling about, not to mention, the prospect of leaving the ground in a basket next to a couple of tanks of compressed flammable gas.
And all this supported by what looked like a few strands of particularly thin wire rope....
THEN I GOT HIGH....
The pilot of our balloon proudly bears what looks remarkably like a Blue Peter badge pinned on his uniform. The genuine hope is that this isn't his only qualification pertaining to aeronautics? (It later transpired that the BBC had filmed an episode earlier in the year). As we awaited lift-off in the basket, each blast of the burner seemed to have a flame grilling effect on the upper part of the body like a piece of steak...
At last the burly ground crew let go their weight and we were ascending like a lift in a tower block... Soon gliding over mud brick houses and invading other peoples early morning privacy as 20 cameras whirred and bleeped "Look, down there, people still in their beds!" (Pulling a blanket over their heads).
My chief concern during the flight is the flame retardant qualities, if any, of the balloon fabric. Could the nylon just shrivel like a crisp packet in the back of a fire? Secondly, the smell of gas. Could we be engulfed in a fire ball? Then there was, always in the background, the question of how we would ever find a place to land at the mercy of the wind at 1500ft?
In addition there were some minor niggles about power lines and the presence of the other balloons. But the sun rose as normal and there were no english language headlines to be written.
WHY EGYPTIAN MEN CAN BE A BIT MENTAL
Mr Mohammed at the bookshop is 32, has never touched alcohol and never kissed a woman despite being engaged. The required money for setting up home still hasn't
quite been saved. Therefore holding hands is as far as the relationship has been allowed to go. Mr M seems reasonable enough but is deeply perplexed by teenage couples holidaying here and obviously sharing a bed as Boyfriend/Girlfriend?
Mr M. functions as a 32 year old, but due to the constraints of society, family and his own Faith, remains in one respect, somehow trapped at the early teens snogging at parties stage of life. This partly explains why life is easier if women keep fairly well covered up.
Mr Ibrahim is older with a teenage son and also seemed reasonable enough to start with, but since phoning the room and turning up at the hotel has metamorphisised into a full blown stalker...
Isabelle seems to exude some fateful allure for a wide spectrum of Egyptian men..
"..I need to see you again Madam!.."...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)