Farewell drinkies in a shop-house

 

Farewell drinkies in a shop house

This month in Singapore has just whizzed by and was much busier frankly than I had anticipated. Usefully and enjoyably so, though. Part of this was the fact that I got in a bit of teaching at SAFTI, the Singapore Staff college. I do actually enjoy teaching – one of the reasons why I was  bit sad to say I definitely wasn’t going to do my 4 month Elective again last time. I’ll still have my so-called ‘Advisor’ role, though. Because it takes so long for Elective courses to go through the Approval process, a new colleague has been drafted to teach it as well as set up his alternative course for later. He’s panicking a bit and I will probably be doing a bit of the ‘teach the teacher’ work the next time I come in July.

But this time in addition to doing all the usual things, I’ve been particularly engaged with Singapore’s wild-life this time around. When he set up Singapore as an independent state in 1965, he was determined to make the place a ‘green city’.  In addition to the usual feng shui reasons of appeasing the gods and trying to make the place a nice one to live in, he wanted everyone to see that Singapore, was enlightened, rich and sufficiently organised to engage in and maintain parks and streets thickly lined with attractive trees and bushes. This is in striking contrast to other cities in Southeast Asia where if there are any green spaces at all they often look accidental, stunted and neglected. One of the most striking examples of this is Bidari park, which a couple of my colleagues took me to one weekend. This is a relatively new development in part based on a Japanese Garden created in the British era and an old cemetery. It’s quite extraordinary and although closely surrounded by tall apartment blocks and shopping malls on every side, you are plunged into kind of manicured rain forest absolutely packed with exotic birds, lizards, squirrels and most amazing of all otters which you see splashing around in the small lake catching and eating fish. It was a terrific visit. The challenge for Singapore is how to keep going with a rapidly expanding population, with new building going on everywhere. The population has got half as big again since 2000 and is still rising. Necessary but difficult to cope with. Maybe a third are temporary workers from overseas, especially southern Asia.

There was a downside to my green adventure though. It was blisteringly hot and extremely humid. Glasses, binoculars and camera kept fogging up  and I was absolutely dripping so trying to capture humming birds fluttering about in the leaves was a real challenge. Even my colleagues (Indonesian and Singaporean) had a definite sheen to them. There are less exotic things to see in the UK, but climate is not such a problem. 

Another problem aspect of the climate is sudden little warning torrential and often very loud thunderstorms. Really ferocious as these two shots taken out of my window suggest. Caught outside and even with an umbrella you can be completely soaked in a minute.

             

I  encountered another local challenge when walking alongside the river another day, not doing any harm to anyone. All of a sudden there was a big bang on the top of my head. I had been dive-bombed from behind by a crow. It did it a second time, until I turned on it and in an undignified way chased it away from its perch. The ‘attack’ was quite painful, but there didn’t seem to be any blood. I suppose it must have taken exception to my white hair, because you don’t see a lot of it in Singapore. Sunday is the day when hordes of Philippine and Burmese maids congregate for pic-nic get-togethers in the public parks and there was a group nearby; they were very concerned and sympathetic to a poor old chap being attacked like that. It was in the bunch of trees on the other side of the river, opposite the famous Fullerton Hotel/Old Post office and by the-almost- as-famous Glaswegian built Cavenagh bridge of 1869 which takes you over to the splendid Asian Civilisations Museum.

The other commitment has been a sometimes hectic series of social engagements in striking contrast to my normal life at home. Last week there were six of them ! One of the most interesting of these was a visit to a hawker centre where one of the stalls was run by the auntie-in-law of my colleague Jane. First time I’ve eaten pig-tail, shrimp and noodles – it wasn’t too bad, but I’m not sure I would go out of my way to choose it again.

In fact I didn’t choose it this time ! The whole thing was really interesting, especially chatting to Auntie. The stall was in Chinatown and as it turns out directly above the place where I get my Lapsang Souchong tea. Auntie and her family have been running the stall for 40 years, but it’s  a hard life. She gets up at 0200 to prepare everything and works until about 1400 on her feet all the time. She had a friend even older than she was helping out. Some of these stalls have a 3000 dollar rental per month. Since the average price of her meals is less than 10 dollars, and she has food, costs, staff, transport, and energy costs as well it’s not an easy way to make a living.

     The centre is one of many in Singapore and also one of the biggest. At a Monday lunchtime it was absolutely packed with office and others queuing for their delicacies, but the government is concerned that this distinctive aspect of Singapore life is getting harder to sustain. They provide subsidies to help keep it going. There must have been hundreds of locals there, (I didn’t see a single non-local) of all ages; they love eating there but don’t want to undertake such responsibilities themselves. A familiar problem. Like every other developed country they have a labour shortage in such jobs and often employ temporary immigrants from the area, though Auntie doesn’t. Real old school. Appropriate since one of the diners was Singapore’s leading historian, sitting opposite me.

Talking of heritage, a very different experience was attending a farewell drinkies part at one of Singapore's iconic shop-houses. Built in the 19th and early 20th centuries, they have very narrow frontages but go back a long way. The shop would be in the front room, with an open air fountain or water source in the middle and accommodation and storage rooms behind. This one was converted into five mini-flats one of which was being rented by a departing colleague of mine who I have known for decades. Nowadays highly valued as heritage, they have a price to match. This one is worth about five million Sing dollars. Very enviable. Singapore like us went through a bad period in the late 1960s and 1970s in disregarding heritage, but they now protect it scrupulously. 

Since this is my last week here for a while I have been finishing things off and starting to pack up. A bigger job than usual since I am taking back the stuff I needed for the apartment I needed for longer stays and have left here for the past couple of years. I shall need to abandon some it though.  I thought I should show a picture of my main place of work at NTU. My office is quite a posh one reserved for visitors and overlooking the greenery and the trees on the other side of the building.

And talking of greenery again, I have squeezed in some more walking trips to the Botanic Gardens and got some nice shots of birds and general views, but they are all on a camera disc which I can’t currently access as I forgot to bring any of my disc readers and couldn’t face buying yet another one. Getting them will be a job for later this week when I get back to the UK. I did however manage to record a cooperative monitor lizard on my phone. Modestly sized he or she ( I don’t know how you sex a monitor) is one of hundreds at the gardens   

 

Oh to be in England, now that May is there

 

And yes, I know it’s really April, but it will do. Before departing for Singapore for a month, I managed to squeeze in a trip to the New Forest. Then the muted browns and dark greens of winter still predominated, but in the garden spring was bursting out all over and floppy bright light greens were everywhere. May is my favourite month and it’s a shame that my teaching at the Singapore staff college always appears at that time, but I’ll be back soon and hope that by the time I am the late ash and oak will be out as well. However my two (! ) temporary gardeners will have been observing ‘no mow May’ so it will look very lush and abandoned I expect.

In fact I had to leave a bit earlier than usual as I had been invited by the High Commission to an engagement session of the Five Power Defence Arrangements in Malaysia, at the enormous Butterworth air force base near Penang. Penang was one of our favourite places in the old days especially the truly iconic E&O (Eastern and Oriental) Hotel – which is Penang’s answer to Singapore’s Raffles and originally operated by the same entrepreneurial pair of Armenian brothers back in the late 19^th Century. Really stylish and surely one of the nicest swimming pools anywhere.  The old city itself is fascinating too redolent of the same period and predominantly Chinese in atmosphere. Not quite so well-manicured as Singapore with bits of romantic decay here and there – especially the local cemetery. Unfortunately, I wasn’t housed there and only drove through it en route from and to the airport. Instead, I was in another ultramodern hotel (but much less offensive than the Rotterdam one) still on the island rather than the mainland but quite far away. In an any case it was all jam-packed so not much time either. See if you can pick me out in the inevitable closing session.

Otherwise, I had a much more leisurely trip over to Jakarta to perform for their naval staff college and the University of Indonesia, plus meeting some colleagues, now known for sometime and having a number of interesting meals as usual.

Here's me looking rather serious. Limited didn't refer to my expertise (or at least I don't think so) It meant by invitation only. It was all very informal and I wore my blue batik shirt for the occasion. 

At the former I was presented with yet another shield that I inadvertently left on the returning aircraft. I had some excuse for this as most unusually for Singapore Airlines it didn’t go like clockwork. For a start, the RSIS team jumped into a flight earlier than booked. Then just as we were about to take-off the news came in that Changi airport was closed because of bad weather. So we had to sit tight on the tarmac for a couple of hours waiting for it to clear. Fortunately, I was able to keep myself entertained by plugging into 5 episodes of HBO’s ‘Veep,’  profane but funny. We eventually made it, still an hour ahead of that originally planned. It really had been a heavy storm, with a fair amount of flooding. Its unusually hot and muggy here at the moment 33-37 and really, really humid. What some ex-pats call ‘three shirt weather’. Heaven only knows how our Victorian predecessors – who made absolutely no concession to the climate – bore it with their elaborate dresses, ties, frock and waist coats. No wonder they died early. The following two shots taken from my window perhaps 5 minutes apart capture the spirit of a the tropical downpours usual in the afternoon accompanied of course by loud cracks of thunder and lightening. So that’s another reason for wistful thoughts about the crisper English versions of May.

Even so, I’ve had one or two minor excursions to favoured places, that have to be planned around the ferocious and torrential showers that happen most days . Almost everywhere there’s construction going on reducing the green spaces that Lee Kwan Yew insisted on as a visible emphasis of building his Singapore. Despite a hugely inflated population, they just about manage an impressive balance – between the green and the concrete, the old and new. The potential threat is illustrated by this slightly skewed shot of the out of window of a MRT carriage window of new-building cranes crowding around the Chinese Gardens.

It looks terrible but will probably be OK in the end. All the same Singapore is a lot better designed and built than either Jakarta or KL, but it’s not easy or free. A tribute towards the concept of ‘guided democracy’ perhaps ! Certainly, that’s how it seems given the crazy consequences of the unguided versions in the US and Europe. It all contributes to the widespread gloom about the state of things globally, that I encounter amongst my colleagues everywhere I go. 

But the best way of looking on the brighter side is indeed to plunge into nature, whether to grow cabbages, spot birds, supervise the cutting down of dead trees or just wander about enjoying it in the Botanic gardens here or back home next month.  Something else to keep one going and to look forward to.    

Grandfather's back

 

But no I don’t mean me, Instead I’m referring to the family longcase clock. About 6 months ago, ‘his’ rope broke. This is a circular loop of rope used to wind he mechanism. To make  the required loop , one end has to be spliced with the other. This is a skilled and lengthy process but always produces a join which inevitably acts as  a critical point of failure however well done. For this reason more modern long case clocks have chains rather than ropes. When it finally went, I had to dismantle the clock and take his innards to a very traditional clock doctor in Salisbury whose family have been looking after him since the 1950s. I remember the first time that I assumed responsibility for arranging his care when they came to my mother’s house in the mid 1970s. ‘Ooo’ they said ‘this an oldie….look an external striking mechanism.’ Soon after I did some research on the maker – a John Price of Chichester who was active for a brief period in the 1780s, when the clock probably came into the family, then living at West Dean five miles north of Chichester. Anyhow, he’s now back tick-tocking away remarkably accurately despite his 250 years. Not worth much, as such clock aren’t in fashion but very nice for someone like me to have around still. I really missed him.

It’s the family associations as much as anything of course. My father, an engineer, did much too reconstitute his workings and polish him up apparently, so family lore says after a couple of decades of black-faced silence, propped up against an angled floor in a Portsmouth house condemned as it was sliding into a bog ! And that sort of association goes for much else in the house that many others might well regard as clutter.

I was thinking about his on my latest foreign trip, a brief hop-over o Rotterdam where the conference organisers have put me up – and I do mean ‘up’ – on the top 23^rd  floor of an uncompromisingly modern hotel by the harbour. It’s one of those pretentious places I most dislike. It could be anywhere, its avowedly minimalist, with no handles to the drawers, the cupboard doors or the coffee mug. In its desire to be different even the wood in the three cornered pencil is black. There’s no place to put anything, or even to work despite the generous size of the room. The coffee set is crammed onto a tiny space too small to operate it in. You have to take stuff out and put it on the floor. For all its determined stylishness, the whole place is ridiculous  - and I daresay not cheap. Give me my clutter anyday !

This break in the UK has been almost free of academic endeavour and very refreshing too, though equally busy. Lots of family events (including family trips to Bodiam castle and Bowood House and adventure playground)  which I won’t recount as many of my audience have participated in them but a joy for me having been away from them all so long. All sorts of other little things too, like being reminded that it’s not just Singapore that has fantastic trees – this 

‘weeping plane’ was amazing.

 

Some family history of course, especially in the form of side-trips when going to, and returning from, Burgess Hill which provides options for explorations of different  bits of ‘Till Country’. On one of them I even managed a walk in the New Forest and seeing signs of in-coming spring all around.

More recently, when returning from shopping in Devizes, I saw that I still had 12 ‘free’ electric miles on the clock and on an impulse decided to visit Adam’s grave on the hills behind the house. Partly to see whether I could make it, when feeling slightly under the weather. Pleased to say I could. Threading my way through thousands of cow-slips  I got to the top. Magnificent views all around and apart from the wind I had it all to myself. A first encounter with larks ascending. Downland is my favourite country I think, perhaps not surprising since the family seems to have lived in it for a thousand years !

It was all very quiet and peaceful – in strong contrast to the roar of battle here back in 715 when the Mercians first attacked and defeated the forces of Wessex. Looking north it was easy to see the way they would have come following the little modern road snaking its way through a valley in the downs. From there it was only a gentle though long rise to the earthen fortifications around the Adam’s grave burial mound where the Wessex force had probably established themselves. Behind the Wessex forces a steep drop down into Pewsey vale, awful country for a retreat after defeat. Wessex got its revenge however a century later in 825 at nearby Wroughton.

Then there were two exhibitions at the British Museum one on the Samurai (with a dramatic battle rendition clearly echoing the first one in the Tom Cruise film) and another on Hawaii (with a cloak made of the feathers of what must have been thousands of little birds) .

Add to that an ‘Old Boys’ session at a village pub south of Salisbury, a Friends of Wiltshire Churches meeting, checking on one’s various life support systems, linking up with long-term colleague etc, together with  restoring the garden, getting the tractor mended, arranging for a new gardener and having some tree surgeons in, I haven’t been idle. Less constructively but equally necessary, a huge variety of dangerously overdue business affairs, not least of which has been trying to access a long closed bank account in the US. The byzantine convolutions one has to go through in order to lay one’s hands on one’s own money is quite staggering. Much more pleasant to potter about in the garden building up collapsed brick vegetable patch surrounds, get things mowed, feeding the birds, putting in more beans,  and so on. 

But I have to say that this little trip to Rotterdam illustrates the point that the academics haven’t entirely gone away. Stuff is still coming in on the internet and always in the background Ukraine and Trump’s ‘Epic Fury’ against Iran (or Epic something else – a 6 lettered hyphenated word with the same first two letters, as its known in the Washington think-tank community.)  It won’t be long before I’m fully immersed in such stuff again as I return to Singapore, if only for quite a brief while.  

ANOTHER NEW YEAR AND HOMEWARD BOUND

 

My time in Singapore this time has simply flashed by in part because I have been much busier than usual. I’ve finished with my last long teaching session, enjoying the student contact as much as ever. In fact they have been both the largest and arguably the best group I have ever had. Not just in their written work (where AI means one has to be wary of high standards these days) but in the presentations and class participation part of it as well. A nice bunch to end with. I was actually very touched when a Philippine student, who’s fine but not outstanding in the class, sidled up to me as I left and presented me with a bag of Philippine cakes and biscuits, for me ‘to have with your coffee.’ So that side of things, has been great,  though I am less enamoured with all the bureaucratic nausea that goes with teaching these days.  

Of course the big event of the last three weeks was Chinese New Year, when again I was invited to attend a family – and really its should be dynastic – celebration. A good 50 people all told with a lot of chattering (about half of which was in Hokkien or Mandarin) the rest in English or Singlish. This was, I have to say full on. I was there about 8 hours. Much eating - and drinking though I have noticed that the locals are much more abstemious  with alcoholl than most of us decadent westerners. One highlight is the ‘Prosperity Toss.’  All the ingredients of this are gathered ceremoniously into a representation of the year – in this case the Year of the Fire Horse. Hence the horse head picture of the plate.

All of the ingredients are ‘auspicious’ of something or other – health, wealth, good fortune, lots of children etc. Once assembled everyone pitches in with chop sticks and chants theoretically tossing the contents into the air to lock in the beneficial effects. Large numbers need to do it in relays ! Aficionados try to hit the ceiling but we didn’t have any of them. Its fun, but I’m not sure the video of my role in this will work.(it didn't)

The other major activity was Blackjack. The real thing – and it has to be with money, usually based on the Hong Bao money one gives out to kids – in ceremonial red packets. I had come prepared for this of course. Two and a half hours. I was pleased only to be down by 3 dollars  at the end. The real card sharps were the kids who can’t be seen in this pic. The other grandfather in the pic (and there were several present at various stages) seemed very stern, did everything in Hokkien, but lost ‘heavily’. Interestingly they didn’t allow increasing bets after the cards were dealt but had a lot of special cases to be remembered. It certainly passed the time !

That and related activity practically gutted one week and the one before saw us squeezing in a very compressed trip to Kuala Lumpur. Lots of academic interactions, including their defence University. But two of us (I must admit at my suggestion as a perpetual grockle) went off to look at what is now called the Seri Negara a rather grand summerhouse that used to be one of the major colonial headquarters. General Templar stayed there during the Malayan Emergency of the 1950s. It now houses a technically very upmarket museum of Malaya’s path to independence. It was fascinating to compare this with the special exhibition My colleagues and I had been shown round at Singapore’s National Library the week before.

This was based on the so-called  ‘Albatross file’ – something that had been kept secret since 1965. This up-ended the long assumption that Singapore, after years of difficult negotiations, had effectively been kicked out of the British inspired Malayan Federation (of Malaya, Brunei and Singapore) by the Malaysians – effectively Tunku Rahman. This led to Lee Kuan Yew famously crying on TV when he announced it to his people, believing that the city wouldn’t prosper on its own. The file showed in fact that there were a group of Singaporean senior politicians who thought that Malaysia would be an ‘albatross’ tied around Singapore’ neck and who actively strove for independence.

But the Malaysian exhibition literally didn’t even mention Singapore; nor did it have more than a passing reference to the ‘Confrontation’  of the 1960s with Indonesia, when British forces protected Singapore, Brunei, Sarawak and Sabah against Indonesian military attacks. There was also plenty of references to colonial exploitation generally not seen in Singapore. I found all this really interesting and illustrates the tensions below the surface in all the local relationships, of which the little local war between Cambodia and Thailand is another example. But as you can see, it was a delightful building and made for a very fulfilling visit.

          Of course, Singapore has indeed prospered on its own, doing much better than both Indonesia and Malaysia so far. But as this shot of KL at night time from the open air top floor bar and pool of my hotel shows, the city isn’t by any means a sleepy little town either. Though it has a much more extensive, scruffier, old ethnic Chinatown than Singapore. On one day we were invited to another full-on Chinese New Year lunch with prosperity tosses and all the rest of it in the  heart of that area which was really, really noisy and great fun. The only problem a programme mix-up meant this was our second big lunch of the day, having already had one at NDU. But our host had gone to so much trouble we all did our best. Fortunately the next stop was the airport.

On top of all this there were quite a few invites out and special events, so apart from staggering around the Botanic Gardens a few times, I found I had much less time for grockling than I had anticipated. But there’s always May, when all being well I shall be back for several weeks. After all this Allington will seem very quiet.   

Things old and new

 

It’s shortly the year of the Fire Horse and it would be hard for Singaporeans not to be aware of that. This one stands, or rather rears,  in the middle of New Bridge Street which is a busy road that runs alongside Chinatown.

Upper Hokkien street feeds into it. I mention that since that’s where I get my Lapsang Souchong tea from (though it costs a lot more here than it does in Devizes, make of that what you will). The horse appeared almost overnight – a nice illustration of the blending of old and new. Old ideas, new format. That goes for Chinatown too and in fact everywhere in Singapore despite the surface modernity of much of it. Look closely, or around the corner, and you’ll find bits of the original still hanging in there. It’s why I like it, I suppose. 

Behind the horse for example you can see the Majestic theatre. It looks like an Art Deco cinema, but actually it was a Cantonese Opera House built in 1927 so it’s not very likely that either my father or Cherry’s went there when stationed here or passing through before the war. Cantonese opera is an acquired taste. They would certainly have recognised Chinatown, though, and the Tiger and Tsingtao beer is probably much the same. 

            Perhaps that train of thought was set off by my re-visiting the refurbishing Singapore national museum last weekend. It’s in a splendidly recycled colonial era building – probably the biggest in Southeast Asia – founded in the mid 19^th Century. To cover up the on-going refurbishment they put on two big displays of Singapore’s history, mercifully free of the anti-Imperial cant so common these days. One was a kind of sound and light show that you walked through by descending a circular ramp, starting with today and going down to the remote past. It was very effective and photogenic.

I liked this portrayal of the old kampong days, and the awfulness of the war was particularly well done. Equally so, its depiction of the sinking of the Prince of Wales and Repulse in December 1941. But the fore and after really comes across from old photos, like this one of the river just before the First World War.

 Now the river is almost completely empty apart from a few tourist boats chugging around – all the shipping has shifted now partly to Keppel Harbour and now to a brand-new ultra-modern, automated port at Tuas at the western end of the island. Building that was a gigantic project of extraordinary complexity that puts our shambling H2S to shame. There’s nothing like a bit of ‘guided democracy’ to get things done ! It’s the same at my university campus which was largely green when we first came here 20 odd years ago but now has no less than three underground stations being built on it with twisting overhead tracks all over the place. It’s still full of trees though. Likewise the shop-houses on the quayside behind the boats in the river are still there, though mainly restaurants and bars these days.

I go to college twice a week by public transport the underground -or MRT Mass Rapid Transport and bus (and once by minivan) and am always struck by how deeply underground my Downtown line is. The lift, if uninterrupted, takes a full minute travelling quite fast to get down to my platform. Some of the escalators are hugely long. And yet before the war when the military wanted to dig trenches on the Padang ( Singapore’s equivalent of a village green even with the cricket club nearby) for protection against Japanese planes, they were dissuaded by the locals who said the water table was so high they would flood. Or so we are told !

Anyhow enough of that.  I have been extremely busy teaching and participating in conferences and the like, not the leisured life I had been thinking of, but can still find time for the odd local excursion to favoured places. Unimaginative it might be, but the Botanical Garden just next door a great and easy lure. There’s nearly always something to see.

It might be a shot of a white-fronted waterhen picking his way across the lily-pads or a tiny Kingfisher, or this chap, a monitor lizard dozing at the water’s edge right by the path, so well camouflaged that most people walked past without seeing him, even though he was a good 5 feet long. 

I did spot him , and took the photo.  while I was so engaged, a small group of young French gentlemen came over to see. ‘Oooo la,la,’ one said, impressed. I didn’t know they really said that !

A sleeping dragon beginning to wake up. So, to summarise, out here one quietly continues to take delight in little things, be they old or new.    

Welcome home !

 

 

Well, that’s what they said to me when I got back to Singapore after the Christmas break. That was because under my current contract I am resident of Singapore not a visitor, but it felt strange all the same as I had already had a very good welcome home beforehand ! Nice though, all the same. I had a hassle free flight to the UK arriving in the early hours of December 9^th, got home finding everything in order, unpacked and then went out straightaway to Devizes to get the necessary Christmas tree – or two if there was a suitable small one for the dining room. I was shocked to find the usual place of purchase almost completely denuded but managed just one and that was shorter than usual. The rest of the day everything went up and two months of postage was processed.

Team Powell arrived just after a big Sainsbury’s delivery which also had to be stashed away. The Walthamstow gang arrived the following day. The first Christmas dinner was at te King’s Arms – an enormous affair and very welcome. Fun and jollity followed. It was great  first part of an extended Christmas-New Year break. Packed with activity and two weeks completely free of academics, apart from emails, which just can’t be escaped.

A couple of days on my own, in which I sorted things out and started packing for my return flight and chased up an errant US bank account and arranged the fiendishly expensive travel insurance I now have to pay for an extended stay abroad. The to Cross-in-hand. On the way I treated my self to a trip to Bosham, a place connected with the House of Godwinson and the beginnings , I like to think, of the family history project I am aiming to do. Fascinating and lovely place well worth a visit. I parked at the water’s edge and enjoyed a sandwich before doing the local Church. It’s thought also to be the place where Cnut bade the tide stop rising. His 8 year old daughter is buried in the Church after having drowned in the harbour. It doesn't lookit from this angle but is one of the oldest Saxon/Early Norman Churches

It's also the place from which Harold Godwinson, the future victim of the Battle of Hastings, and the Tills' probable landlord set out on his ill-fated visit to William Duke of Normandy. This is how the Church is portrayed in the Bayeux tapestry. The church looks a bit different now but the great Saxon chancel arch is still there.

On Christmas eve,  a carol service in which we made our way around selected suitable sites, a pub appropriately called the star, and into a very upmarket stable (with a swimming pool in a local farmstead) with a real baby Jesus who only had a melt-down when being out back into his car having performed his role perfectly up to then. The Church itself of course and some moments around a blazing and most welcome bonfire. All very nice, and made up for the fact that at the last minute I couldn't get into Salisbury cathedral for its spectacular version because it was completely full. Christmas day itself was a jolly one and busy one, especially when all the Patricks came. Time also for a walk to a nearby wood and on Boxing day all the clan turned up for present exchanges more eating and drinking and of course the expected photo on the stairs.

Back to Wiltshire for a couple of days via another House of Godwin Church (Compton two miles north of West Marden the first documented Till residence in 1386). I largely finished packing for the flight back to Singapore, changed library books, got my next stash of pills, brought some firewood in from the garage and battened the garden down for what seemed likely to be a cold snap after I left. R,S + V arrived on the 30^th. The second Christmas supper out at the Peppermill in Devizes followed. New Year’s eve to the Savernake forest to track down – and measure ! – some of its collection of grand old  oaks, the  Big Belly Oak is especially famous, one of the 50 finest old national trees, right be the road unfortunately. The Seymour Oak 10 meters in circumference also had a hollow interior which Violet enjoyed and the equally impressive Cathedral oak. Here two members of the team peer out from the latter.

It was a beautiful day and the slightly misty woodland looked fantastic even without the big oaks.

The cows in Allington got a second visit, though Violet wasn’t as keen on being licked as Barney’s Ambrin was ! Then it was take-down and departure time. All hands to the plough. RS+V left at 1200, my Heathrow taxi an hour later. Timings were tight !

 

And that was that. Or so I thought. Because for only the second time in my life I was given an upgrade to First Class which turned out to be a very nice way to start the New Year !

Homewards bound ?

 

I hope that the title is not tempting Providence, but I’m checked in largely packed and nearly ready to go. The last few weeks have been busy with all the usual teaching routines. I am very pleased with the enthusiasm of my students, and in awe of their ability to engage in a language which for quite a few of them is not their own. It’s nice teaching note to go out on.

          And, talking of ‘going out’, an Australian colleague sent me an article  in a prestigious English language marine science journal in Indonesia which was largely about me and which ended with a glowing obituary, because I had sadly died back in 2017, aged 76. I was also born in Manchester I gather. Interesting.

          So when I was taken out last night to

a Chinese restaurant by a couple of my long-time ex-students, I was pleased to encounter this which is basically a promise of a long life and lots of money. As you can see the décor was largely given over to gambling. Talking of money  my insurance company finally paid up my medical expenses last may which was a considerable relief.

I’m not as fat as I look in the picture it was just the way I was slouching in my chair. A lot of Ipoh noodles and fish balls to process. One of the reasons why the weight is under control before the fast approaching Christmas splurge is that I’ve been a regular hiker through the Botanic gardens. There are always things to see. Their collection of trees is fantastic and this time in a remote part of it that I had never got to before, I found some delightful parkland with a couple of bizarrely but attractive colonial buildings. One called ‘Iverturret’ which looked like it sounds and housed an interesting botanical museum with to my astonishment housed a collection of really enviable 15-17the botanical books. Surely they must have been replicas, but the notices didn’t say so.

    Another fun day was one out with the navy it was an occasion for naval families but I was shown round by a couple of my ex-students. We visited  a landing ship, dressed overall as they say, and I got in some more sea time by chugging round the harbour in a little landing craft around Sentosa island which Cherry and I liked to frequent for some swimming and beach time. Nice to see it again this time from the sea.

One the memorable events though was not Singaporean at all, namely a stupendous and very large exhibition of the Impressionists at the National Gallery. There were at least a couple of hundred of them. Must have been worth a fortune. They were nearly all from the Boston Art Gallery so I suppose I must have seen at least some of them before as Cherry and I visited the latter several times in our last ten years, but I couldn't  say I remembered any of them. But it did remind me of how much I liked Pisarro, radical revolutionary though he might have been.

         

Another treat was being invited to the Christmas party at the High Commission. It was packed and very British. Carols sung by a choir of little girls from the ‘Brighton School, ’ mulled wine and some really nice mince pies.  And so on that un-Singaporean note, this ends with the usual Season’s greetings, outside one of the shopping malls nearby. But somehow the sunshine and hot temperatures make this look all wrong !