GREENGAGE SUMMER

 

It’s not that I am a particular fan of Rumer Godden, but I do like greengages. This summer has been hot and dry. Despite the paucity of rain the apples  and plums are both early  and seem to be in prodigious quantity. Fortunately I had a small granddaughter to help one weekend, here she is crab apple picking.  Of course I should have been on the other side of the ladder but her father was close by just taking a quick picture !

That weekend Christopher, Elowen and I did Avebury, a bit disappointed that the Manor was closed after severe flooding earlier this year.  I got some more relief from the oppressive presence of so much that needs or will need picking by retreating to Cross-in-Hand for Violet’s 7^th, a great gathering of the families. This was great fun and a sterling indeed heroic performance by our hosts. We also managed to squeeze in a visit to Bateman’s which I haven't been to for decades.

But the presence of stuff to be picked from the garden couldn’t be entirely ignored. On the last evening before my departure for Sweden, I decided to go and see how my poor old greengage tree was doing. I say ‘poor old’ since while I was away in Singapore there must have been a great wind in Wiltshire which blew over  one plum  tree and the greengage tree, the latter so badly that the main root is half out of the ground. Normally I might get a couple  of dozen greengages from  it but only when they drop to the ground as the tree is so big and the fruit well out of reach. So I really wasn’t expecting to see literally hundreds of them lying on the ground with more to come. I have been so busy rescuing the rest of the garden from neglect hat I just hadn’t noticed that part of it.  Sadly, it was late evening the night before a crack-of dawn (in fact at 0300 pre-dawn) departure for Sweden but I just couldn’t leave them there to rot and so collected a couple  of trug-fulls instead of doing the final packing. Not  ideal. Into the freezer they went to be sorted on my return. But I just don’t understand how so  little rain produces so much fruit ! An article in the Guardian said the earlier ripening was because of everything racing through its stages before its winter 'senescence' because of the drought. But that doesn't explain the incredible volume of fruit. Nathan thought it was because this had been a very good year for pollinators. 

            Despite that unexpected last minute distraction, the trip out was completely hassle free, unlike the experience of two of my colleagues with whom I was going to meet up in Copenhagen airport. Their Air Norwegian flight was cancelled and they only arrived 9 hours later, one without his suitcase which he hopes to collect on the way back. So I got the train to Helsingborg and go picked up several hours ahead of schedule from the station there and taken to Viken. This charming little seaside village of old ‘captain’s houses’ – many thatched- around a small marina of enviable yachts – was the same venue as last year’s talks.

Later summer season, sunny weather with a brisk breeze to keep all the Swedish flags and pennants flapping. So I made  myself at home and roamed around until the others arrived and there was the expected welcome dinner. One of our hosts is a really big wheel in the shipping world, and a naval history fanatic. He has one museum stuffed with naval memorabilia and lives in another with a heroic wife whose only revolt is to set aside an ‘Abba’ commemoration room, which one of our number stayed in, a bit uneasily I think.  I stayed in a converted hen-house and made myself at home in the garden for reading diary writing etc.

           

The talks were great – mainly about what to do about Russia of course- I was a bit surprised by the level of scepticism there was about Russian naval prowess, but the Swedes in particular, having abandoned their  centuries old tradition of neutrality are really energised about the threat. The most memorable events, however were the three dinners.. Stupendous food, loads of Aquavit and lots of the drinking songs that all Scandinavian navies seem to like. One went finally to bed in the (ex) henhouse in the back garden usually a touch worse for wear. Weirdly I had the best three nights’ sleep I have had for ages. There’s a moral there somewhere. 

            The last stage of the gathering was for five of us to drive back to Copenhagen airport via two spectacular castles and three maritime museums interspersed with good meals all the way.

The first was Sofiero, in Sweden where the  gardeners amongst us were very impressed by the banks of flowers on display this late in the season. It reinforced my determination once back home and with no book to write finally to get to grips with the garden which has suffered years of partial neglect. Although I say it myself things have already improved a lot. 

Egeskov in Denmark was quite different, ridiculously spectacular though with lots of duckweed in the pond ! Basically mid 17th Century but obviously tarted up a lot in the 19th Century. Unusually we were allowed to clamber around in the roof space. Renovators found an undateable doll concealed up there. Ancient retainers apparently reported a half forgotten legend that were it to be removed disaster would follow. 'Stuff and nonsense' said the 'Duke I'm going to send the doll away to find out how old it is.' There followed a major water leakage which exposed the 2000 oak piles the castle was built on. They immediately started to crumble away. The castle tottered. The doll was hastily brought back and the rains came saving the day. They still don't know how old the doll is. 

After this extravagance of buildings, we ended up in a guest house in  the bleak apparently deserted uncompromisingly modern little maritime settlement near the dockyard that was the basis of our new host’s fortune. It was a far cry from the romantically decayed Swedish castle in a wood last year. But you can’t have everything. I was reminded of those horror films when people arrive in a mysterious town in the middle of nowhere, with no-one about, that has been taken over by aliens ! We couldn't help but wonder if it was like this bleak in late Summer, what on earth would it be like to live in the place in February. The saving grace though was a small hotel with a very good restaurant.

            Appropriately the area is infamous for naval battles and shipwrecks The following day there were two stupendous museums to be guided round, one largely devoted to the Battle of Jutland in May 1916 in which I have always been interested. What was special about it was  that it was profusely illustrated by objects recently brought up from the battle site sea-bed splendidly contexualised by first class research and with a strong focus on the stories of the people involved. Quite enthralling. I got all inspired by this and decided that my next lot of students in Singapore don’t realise it yet but they are going to get an extra lecture on the battle. After yet more fish and chips, to the other museum. This dealt with virtually everything else from a gruesome exhibition on whaling, to the recovery of V2 rockets that fell into the sea on their way to England. it centred on diving on wreck sites. There's an interesting issue here. Should the artefacts be displayed as found, barnacles and all, or cleaned up so the public can really understand what they are looking at. Here's us and the entire museum staff. Real enthusiasts and restorers full of secrets to reveal about their trade.  It was fascinating but a bit overwhelming. After a while we couldn’t take anymore. Overload. After a matey supper with them in the museum,  an evening wander around the Jutland memorial in the wind-swept sand dunes restored the capacity to reflect.

            And then the following morning to the last museum 30 minutes away – the so-called ‘Strandings Museum’ which was almost exclusively focussed on the wrecks of HM Ships St George and Defence which foundered here in a bad storm on Christmas Eve 1811, with only 17 survivors from a combined crew of 1300. It was dramatically displayed and the view of the rudder post was quite amazing. It’s so tall they had to build a 3 storied tower to accommodate it. Lunch with the museums enthusiastic curators and that was that, a three hour drive to Copenhagen airport where we bomb-burst and went our separate ways after a very convivial few days. Back to grim reality and all those greengages.

To the East and Back- for quite a while

 

I’m not superstitious but I admit to having had a slight sense of trepidation about returning to Singapore after my last somewhat harrowing trip there back in May, but this time (so far, at least as I am drafting this in the departure lounge at Changi on my way home)  all has been well.

The fact that ultimately it’s all about shipping strikes you immediately you approach Singapore with the approaches to its several docks absolutely crammed with merchant shipping. No shipping, no shopping indeed.

I find myself getting increasingly interested in all that side of the ‘maritime affair’ now that Edition 5 of the Seapower book is consigned to the hands of the printers. For once I was really pleased with the cover design that Routledge came up with. I got the original picture from the German manufacturer – of one of their frigate designs but the cover designers were really imaginative in what they did with it. I think though that it’s going to miss the Christmas stocking market unfortunately.

The  2.5 weeks I was away were very busy with maritime things, the centrepiece being presiding over a large course for local coastguard and naval types  the naval base at Changi. 140 of them indeed. It was all very matey. Loads of selfies etc, but this one shows us all. I’m in the white coat. Otherwise it was a series of small seminars and workshops in Vietnam and Indonesia. I think the word had got out about my health adventures. Everyone was extremely solicitous to the point of my beginning to get a complex about it. Such things as a senior Indonesian naval officer insisting on holding my hand as I walked down some steps after a meal. I can see why Joe Biden tried to dispel such perceptions by bounding up stairs in public whenever he could !  

That apart it was  nice meeting up with innumerable friends and colleagues from around the region and former students who still seemed quite pleased to see me, which is always encouraging. I hope it’s not just seeing that I am still alive !

But, of course, it wasn’t all work. I packed my time with going round all the Singapore sites I like in my spare time and getting a bit of swimming in whenever possible. The highlight has to be joining in Singapore’s 60^th National day celebrations one extremely hot Saturday evening. The real thing is in August but they put on a couple of preview/rehearsals for the general public. The (free) tickets are like gold dust. The Navy sent Jane, my boss sort of, 4 of them and she added me to the family. I must say it was fantastic. Everything from fly-overs, parachutists to parades of Leopard tanks [curiously for all my military interests I have never seen tanks on a road in a parade before- we don't do that kind of thing]

and an extraordinary sound and light show about Singapore’s multicultural character. A cast of thousands. They impressively emphasise the sense of community that distinguishes the place from other countries in the region. Also the notion of ‘total defence’ – i.e. everyone has a role to play directly or indirectly in national defence, whether as part of the serried ranks of the military services, or as firefighters, police, educators etc. They were all represented by the large numbers of civilian organisations that marched along behind the military.  There’s a lot of talk about we Europeans now having to revive this kind of thinking in the light of the Russian threat. I think the Singaporeans have a lot to teach us one way or another, but I do wonder about how receptive or for that matter anyone else in Europe is to that kind of thinking. Let's hope we don't suffer the consequences.

The other highlight had no such strategic overtones. It was a grand son-et-lumiere about the maritime history and legends of Hoi An in Vietnam, that the Diplomatic Academy of Vietnam arranged for us to go and see. If anything, this was even more spectacular. One element I found particularly striking was a very long procession of girls in illuminated conical hats and ancient court dress walking past in darkness to the beat of a distant drum. Somehow they all seemed to be leaning backwards. It was mesmerizing. I just couldn’t see how they did it.  I managed a video of it, but it failed to capture the magic of the occasion and  any case I need instruction on how to attach videos to transmissions like this. This wasn't it, but it gives a taste of the whole thing.

 

Otherwise I did things on my own, at the weekends. Taking advantage of the need to go back to my old and future apartment to collect a suitcase I left behind last time, I popped in the botanic gardens to goggle at strange plants, and have a Tiger at the Bee's Knees..

Of course I revisited my favourite bar on Emerald Hill in front of the old ship-houses. I sat and beavered away on my lap-top in the historic Fullerton Hotel, the old Post-office building, Fish and chips in the Cricket Club, lighting a candle for Cherry in the Armenian church and  a fascinating couple of hours in the nearby National Archives, reading old copies of the Straits Times. I did the first week of 1931 and chanced across two stories that struck me as being more than a touch apposite, both about America. The first was of a Republican congressman suggesting in all seriousness that Britain pay off its war debt to the US by selling them Canada. This elicited the pained response that didn’t this ignorant man realise Canada wasn’t ours to sell ? The other story was about a ban on illegal migrants being allowed to return to the US after leaving to spend Christmas at home. Generally, the US needed to rid itself of these unwelcome and often criminal guests. Some things, it seems don’t change. Instead these stories  tend to support the notion that anyone who imagines that Trump’s eventual departure will ushed in an new age of enlightenment  is likely to be sadly disappointed. Trump is a symptom of the problem, not a cause.

To end on a happier note, I was amused to come across this in the loo in an Indonesian restaurant. Strange to find I have been doing it wrong all these years.  

Getting Back to Normal

 

It’s been a busy few weeks but I am beginning to get back to normal and more on top of things. Such as pottering around the garden and making the best use of what’s there. I’m evidently not the only one doing it. I have discovered several quite mysterious holes like this one. A broad hole with another much narrower one at the base – completely out in the open. Weird. The nature-wise Nathan, my part-time gardener kindly explained what they are. Apparently it’s evidence of badgers trying to dig up underground bees’ nests in order to get at the honey. I don’t know that I altogether believed him, so I watched one for little and sure enough bees kept coming in and flying out.

Another one, he said,  was a grass snakes’ nest and indeed a few weeks ago I found a dead one (Crows) not that far away. As for me my activity was simply harvesting. Despite the drought some things have done well, Broad Beans, loganberries, black currents particularly so far. Now I’ve just got to eat them.

A welcome break from such wholesome activity was a London work-trip when I managed to squeeze in  a trip to the British Museum (needing to get my money's worth for membership) and saw the Hiroshiga exhibition. Charming, somehow enigmatic pictures of rural 19th Century Japan, and its people.

I also managed a Wiltshire Church group visit where one of the draw was the opportunity to have a nose around Bradley House, the home of the Duke of Somerset. At first some of us were a bit disappointed to find the reception in the grounds - it was a lovely evening after all - but the next Duke said we were welcome to go in and make ourselves at home so long as we didn't steal anything. That too was delightful. An exotic if somewhat shambolic family home rather than a regulated National Trust house. Car keys in an Imari saucer. That kind of thing. I had the opportunity to take ruthless advantage of Pat and James who lived nearby and had a wonderful stay with them. This is the Duke's place, not theirs - though theirs is also a complete delight

All this quiet and tame stuff has actually been quite nice for the last couple of weeks since the time before that was pretty hectic. Right in the middle of it, while I was in Singapore I had to have an emergency operation for a twisted smaller intestine (caused apparently by scar tissue from previous surgery) which was exquisitely painful, and definitely something to be avoided if you can. To pass the time (in the confusion I had forgotten to bring in my little laptop) hospital I wrote a minute by minute account to look back on. If anyone has a fancy for such things, they need merely to apply. I have a lot of very colourful photographs, but fear I will now have to stop entering myself for ‘The Body Beautiful' competitions. I was very well looked after, not least by very attentive colleagues who visited, sent flowers and any number of strange Chinese medications to help me along which I dutifully took. Maybe they were responsible for quite a quick departure from the hospital. I was warned it might take up to 2 weeks but was out in 4.5 days, feeling fine.

Best bit of the stay after several days in which I was only allowed sips of water was going onto a restricted diet that consisted of a tiny bowl of chicken broth. Honestly I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a meal more than that !

I’ve recovered well. Indeed the day after my return from Singapore, with Simon acting as my chauffeur for what was going to be a long drive, I set off for a battlefield tour and conference in a charming chateau in Normandy near St Mere Eglise. The whole thing was organised by a US Navy admiral that I know who wanted to commemorate the naval landing. It was all great fun and ended with a concert outside the Church by an American band playing Glen Miller and all that sort of stuff. The locals all loved it. Simon had to endure a whole day beforehand in which I took him around all the campaign sites that I used to conduct staff college students through twenty years ago, for Heaven’s sake. He said he enjoyed it, but, in the immortal words of Mandy Rice-Davies,  he would, wouldn’t he. We also enjoyed the gastronomic and other delights of Caen

A few days later, having been given the all clear by my GP and a bevy of tube and staple-removing nurses I set off on a back to back couple of naval conferences in Kiel and Newport. The timings were tight but everything worked perfectly, in a manner which partly restored my faith in BA which upgraded me. (both my flights to and from Singapore had been cancelled at the last minute, the second being particularly unfortunate as I was classed as medically vulnerable. I wasn’t – they just said that to get me through the security check with my little machine and pipework). It was all good and both venues had their particular interests. In Kiel there was a rare modernised version of one of those tiny open continuous escalator-lifts in the Parliamentary state house that you step onto and get whisked away. Great fun. The very tasteful hotel used to be the Admiral's club of the old navy of Kaiser Wilhelm's day. Apparently it was from here one morning of November 1918, they came out after breakfast and saw the red flags of mutiny flying from the battlefleet in the harbour below them - and the end of the First World War.

We however we talking about the future not the past, and a different adversary. Here’s me in full spate.

It was nice going back to Newport, which being strongly Democrat still seemed totally divorced from the antics goings on in Washington. There’s concerns about job security, especially for colleagues teaching ethics courses. I stayed with my long-time friend John and we indulged in a couple of very nice suppers down by the water. I also found my membership of the Preservation Society of Newport County was still extant and so could take advantage of trips to various mansions on my old Bellevue Avenue. This  is one of my favourite bits of garden – aficionados will know where.  ‘My place’ (where I spent lock-down) which got sold for 27 million dollars two years ago is still undergoing extensive renovation and looks a mess.

But the best bit was being invited out for a sail by a young colleague. His family is well connected and he’s a member of the New York Yacht Club, so at last I got a chance to have a nose round an ex-mansion that I lived right behind for a while. His yacht was especially designed for one person sailing and I was impressed by the advances made since my last acquaintance with sailing decades ago. I was intending to be a photo-taking passenger, but under his expert and very patient guidance ended up sailing the thing past the lighthouse and out into the open sea. It was terrific. I’ve always had an unsatisfied hankering for yachting. But the cost is extraordinary – and might have included my marriage ! Probably not, actually but I thought it better not risked !

One my later rentals was just behind the trees on the right of the picture. And here's us motoring back in the late evening, sail still to be neatly stowed.

Another part of all three visits was some splendid eating. Although when I was in hospital I had nothing to eat for nearly three days and a very limited light diet for another two days plus having a chunk of me cut out, I still emerged 4 lbs heavier !!   I thought that an affront to science and natural justice. But the combination of this and the binge-eating afterwards has required the resumption of a diet, another less welcome part of getting back to normal.

addendum

 

I made it work in the end though not sure it was worth the effort !

Gone East but back soon

 

It’s been so long since I put fingers to keyboard for this blog, that it’s hard to know where to begin. It has been a really busy few weeks, since I got back from Singapore in early March. So much for my hopes of quietly and leisurely finishing off the Seapower 5 book while getting on with repairing the damage to house and gardening  caused by previous neglect. Indeed  the book has been done and dusted and posted off to the Publishers. Because so much has changed since the 4^th edition in 2018 it turned out to be a much bigger project than I had originally anticipated and took much more time. Doing it was quite satisfying, mark you, but I am really, really glad that it’s over. That will definitely be my last single-authored academic book. I know I have said that before but this time the experience proved that the  opportunity costs are just too high. Another problem is the threat of more or less instant redundancy given the sheer pace of change and the slow production times of big publishers. So, that’s it !

The highlight of the period of course  was the family trip to Marrakesh for my official BIG  birthday. We stayed in a Riad – only it didn’t have a fountain in the open central courtyard, around which the occupants lounge, eat and sleep, so shouldn’t really have been called that. There were one or two hiccups, like the temporary loss of  WiFi but nothing serious and as usual complete harmony in the group. I won’t describe in detail because other people’s holidays are always so tedious and in an case, most of the readership was actually there. But we were all greatly impressed by how nice everyone was. I think we were all expecting to be constantly hassled for baksheesh as one is in Egypt, but not at all. There was of course a certain amount of bargaining over the price of things but the ladies of the party held their own, or at least we came away thinking that they did ! Seeing everything there was to see was hard work of course. On one day I clocked up 23,000 steps – nearly four times what old gentlemen like me are encouraged to strive for. Probably the best image was of us loping past in a camel train. Taken from a phone propped against a stone. Absolutely Lawrence of Arabia !  

Otherwise, there were a lot of domestic chores to get fixed, Covid jabs and blood tests,  the car MOTd and re-insured, Servicing of boilers and fire-extinguishers, keeping an eye on an old chap over the road who’s just lost his wife, voting, getting the tractor mower fixed – all the usual nif-naf and trivia, plus the Wiltshire Churches group. The time just flew past and looks like it’s going to continue to do that for a while, as quite a number of overseas gigs (as my younger colleagues would say !) coming up. It’s surprising how much time it takes sorting this kind of thing out – travel arrangements and the like. Arranging an intricate Hamburg and Newport safari took nearly 3 hours on the phone with BA at one stage. Sometimes things just can’t be done, I’m going to have to miss  the chance of a lifetime as far as I’m concerned, helping to run a conference on the Prince of Wales in Singapore as I’m already locked in to something else.

On top of this I found it too hard to turn down a nice offer from Singapore to prolong my period as S  Rajaratnam Professor of Strategic Studies for another year. If I had any doubts about why my job is called that, all I need do is look at the big notice outside my office door ! He was Singapore’s first Minister of Foreign Affairs and Deputy prime Minister, and that’s the name of the School. 

I sometimes have my apple lunch in one of the pavilions in the University’s rather splendid gardens, complete with lake, turtles, exotic birds etc. Just about visible is the roof of the building where our flat was, overlooking them, when we first came here all those years ago. The old original building -mid 1950s has just been refurbished  is quite distinctive I think. But really dwarfed in a campus so big three tube stations are being built in it !

Another highlight of my time here was a big naval conference which also involved cocktail ship visits at the naval base.  It was EXTREMELY hot and sticky but great fun, especially a Chinese frigate. There were two of them , one decidedly locked down, perhaps because all the effort was being made on the other one which was packed with naval types from all over and some of my colleagues. Lots of drum banging and general displays and a folk dress show. In order to get a clear shot with my phone, I was standing slightly ahead of most other spectators. The young lady on the left came uo to me at the end an I had a terrible fear I was going to be asked to dance or something like that, but no she offered a bowl of firewater. 

It tasted rather as one imagines anti-freeze does but was not without effect as we all agreed afterwards. We all had a good time as you can see - well actually you can't - I couldn't get the zip extractor to work on the collection of pics I was sent. The Captain likewise. An interesting evening. Of course I also called in on the RN ship and that was somewhat less exotic and they were running out of tonic but also very agreeable all the same.  

So, going East again for just a bit longer than planned certainly has its consolations…..

Unexoected Visitors

 

I’ve been back in the UK for two weeks now and already Singapore seems a distant memory. The last week was a blur of activity, closing things down and packing up. This was complicated  by having to decide what to  leave  in the store-room of my Apartment block as I will be coming back in May. It was also complicated – in a nice way- by being invited out for meals a lot. They really have looked after me very well. Unexpectedly a student of the course I taught at Newport is now the German naval attache here in Singapore and he invited me to tea at the Fullerton.

Now a hotel, this used to house the Post-office HQ in old Singapore and is redolent with history, especially of the fall of the city in February 1942. We used to like going there, but I haven’t been back for ages -it’s not so much fun on your own. Accordingly, I really enjoyed the occasion. 

The other invitations were to various hawker places in Singapore and also with a UK colleague and long term Japanese place where the owner (who my friend knew well)  was famous for being unbelievably rude to his customers. He wasn’t there that evening so I didn’t get to experience it. It was all very jolly. We dined well and got through a bottle and a half of sake very, very easily. The next morning I saw that I had put on 3.5 lbs ! I wouldn’t  have thought that physically possible. Too many trips there in the future would likely turn me into a Sumo wrestler.

Other than that it was a fairly quiet time when I beavered away on the book. There was a trip to the National Library to see their special book collection – all 19^th Century of course. Missionary accounts and things like that. Interesting though. I realised I had a cold coming – in fact it was the worst day of it- so I stayed in the background as much as possible. I think I got it from one of the little secretaries who came in to check on my departure arrangements a few days earlier. She admitted she didn’t feel well and went off on sick leave straight afterwards and was away a long time. My cold was virtually over by the time of my flight home two days later. Whatever I had it didn’t affect my appetite. We all lunched at a Malay place, here I went for ‘carrot cake’ which wasn’t at all like it sounded. Very much recommended. Very difficult to starve to death in Singapore.

I managed to squeeze in a few trips to familiar and undemanding places, not least the Botanic gardens which are right next door to my apartment. It’s a big place with a huge amount of stuff to see, but I’m beginning to know my way around and after a walk recover at the Bee’s Knees with a Tiger (beer) under the palms.

This tree always amuses me. It translates as ‘Big Lemon Tree’ and I imagine a slice of this cannon-ball shaped thing would certainly make one's G&T slop over. One of the real sights though was the usual Sunday gathering of hundreds of Filippino, Malay and Indonesian maids who meet for a picnic in the City centre every Sunday – their day off. When it rains, they gather along the covered pavements with their chairs, picnic things, loads of food and radios and chatter away like an enormous flock of starlings. One picks one’s way around them. Quite a sight and sound. A less happy occasion one morning was finding I had left my wallet in a taxi. Stress. Fortunately I remembered the taxi number. Singapore being Singapore it was delivered back to me by arrangement three hours later.

The flight back was fine, except that the entertainment system failed. On a 14+ hour flight they were very apologetic, but it didn’t bother me much, as I was able to beaver away on my little laptop and, unusually, actually get some sleep.

All was well back at the house, with papers and milk waiting as arranged, but it was a busy time. I had taken the car off the road so I had to get it MoT’d and taxed, get in some food and deal with a boiler which had unaccountably failed for the coldest weekend I’ve had for a long time. Thanks heavens for the woodturner.

Then I had to rush up to London to participate in workshop at King’s which we had organised. Interesting times, of course, with much to discuss. Stayed at the grand Strand Place Hotel on the Strand. It’s certainly been couthed up since my last visit, when I slept in what I swear was once a broom cupboard. Nice breakfasts. In the evening up to Walthamstowe to see Christopher, Beth and Elowen The following day I led the team around 4 think tanks in Central London and arranged a walking tour of some of the main sights while doing it. The think tanks were all interesting; basically no one knows what’s happening about anything at the moment. Momentous days. Probably the highlight was having coffee from the roof top gathering place on top of the International Maritime Organisation. Nice view. Finally, to a superlative fish restaurant in Soho. Only once back in my room did I realise I was tired and discovered that I had done more than 23,000 steps. The following morning they all left, and so did I after a morning at the National Gallery.

The following day I was working away on the wretched book in front of the woodburner when there was what I thought was a tapping on my French windows. I looked up and there were four turkeys looking in at me through the lower panes. I thought I was hallucinating, but no, I wasn’t. They weren’t at all scared of me and I got some good pictures of them, but unfortunately I seem to have left both card readers in Singapore, so this picture will have to do. They were actually Great Bustards, of course,  down from the plain. A hundred breeding pairs have now been established up there and they’re obviously spreading their wings in every sense. They are really big birds, making my pheasant look small. They looked faintly ridiculous pecking away under the bird table. They visited my neighbours too. And this afternoon a sparrowhawk came to see what was available. It’s all happening, here !  

Since then academic work, shopping, catching up on the admin and sawing up wood  for the woodburner – though the central heating is now fine if slightly dodgy. Glad to be back, but looking forwards to Marrakesh.

Not for the Squeamish

 

Clearly now in my run-down period, eating up food supplies beginning to have a mammoth sort out and pack. Finishing things off or at last trying to. Very busy.

This week it was Thaipassam, which is when Hindus have a great Thanksgiving celebration. I thought (wrongly as it turned out) that it was a public holiday so decided to go along to Little India to see what was going on. It was very hot as the monsoon has at last broken. Gone are the days of grey skies and incessant rain. I explored the crowded little streets of shop houses,  crammed with stalls selling everything under the sun. The big displays of blossoms and flower buds were especially noticeable. Very fragrant. You could smell them some way off.  Everyone in their Sunday best so to speak I did a temple or two, the last Chinese merchant’s house in the area and the brand new Indian Heritage Centre (school parties being told stories of Hindu deities)

Talking of which I chanced across a procession of Thaipassam devotees carrying portable shrines supported by an array of steel rods stuck into their flesh, like this chap. It looked incredibly painful but none of them seemed to mind. Indeed this chap below even did a little jig for his chanting  and drum-banging followers which must surely have made things worse.

No blood anywhere- even the pierced togues and cheeks. Weird. But it was all very joyful and conducted in that typically shambolic Indian way where everything seems to work out in the end, but looks as though it will degenerate into chaos at any moment. Mothers pushing kids in wheelchairs chatting to each other as though they were in a check out queue in Morrisons. Sudden stops and starts. People walking past the wrong way drinking coca-cola. Quite an experience ! After all this, I needed a beer and found a quieter side street  with a pavement stall where they sold cold Karvali  (same name as the Indian navy’s current submarine class ) super-strong Indian beer at just over a third of the price you pay in town. A bit woozily, home.

But I have also had the chance to get some sea-time in. First of all, with a friend a 4 hour trip out to Raffles lighthouse, the Southernmost point of Singapore. This was fun. A great guide, full of enthusiasm, proud of his 72 years - the one in yellow on the right. Here we are lined up for the inevitable group photo.

From here one stands under the palms and looks at Indonesia, all the while knowing that the stretch of water between is one of the busiest seaways in the world. Indeed,  moored ships were everywhere to be seen. Remarkably, despite all that, turtles still regularly turn up to lay their eggs on the diminutive beach here, largely because their grandmothers did, and their grandmothers before them. The lighthouse is automatic but is still manned by two keepers. Their function is to keep the place looking neat and tidy (a Singapore trait), ward off interlopers from across the water and look after the turtles (who get moved to a safer place these days).  

 

The other trip was with the Navy and much more  demanding. We bounced along in an ‘optionally uncrewed surface vehicle’ (a sea drone like the ones the Ukrainians  have used against the Russians). Not really uncrewed since it was operated by two man crew who were deployed ashore. We were practising the high-speed interception of a terrorist boat. Strange to sit in what would have been the CO’s seat and to watch the systems work apparently all on their own. Great stuff. Fortunately, I was not amongst those stricken with sea sickness. ‘These things aren’t built for human beings,’ we were told. Came back a bit sunburnt.

The other event was saying farewell to my class. I got on very well with them I think, and came away with tea from Indonesia, China and Thailand ! The best Singapore class I have ever had. A good note to end on, perhaps.

Gongxi facai - the year of the snake 恭喜发财

As I write the drums and cymbals of the second day of Chinese New Year are hammering out below the window of my apartment. It’s now the year of the Woodsnake, a year for the strong-minded. I spent the first day with the extended family of some local friends and colleagues. I couldn’t dress in auspicious colours (red and yellow) but my Hawaian shirt had some red in it and at least complied with requirement to be bright and cheerful. I didn’t buy new clothes for the occasion as is supposed to be the case (treating yourself). I also took along the mandatory pairs of mandarins/oranges to exchange with both sets of hosts, and one red packet for the young son of the first set.

Then to the taxi, ordered in advance because they are much scarcer on a public holiday especially this main one. Out through the lobby of my block, also dressed overall for CNY. Like most Singaporeans my main hosts live in one of a cluster high rises. In their cases its on the 15^th floor, offering great views of a densely populated area that is still determinedly green. From its inception the modern city was built in accordance with Feng shui  to ensure natural harmony. Although in many places the greenery is necessarily paper thin, they take planting urban trees and bushes  far, far more seriously than we do, or the rest of Asia for that matter.

Back to CNY. I arrived exchanged oranges, handed over the envelope – always with money in it and not to be opened on the day. Technically to all singles and kids. All is carefully performed and remembered. Then some Hakka appetisers – minced meat and noodles, and a Tiger beer while final arrangements were made for our departure to the lunchtime hosts in another high rise a little way off.

The time was passed with the young son, recovering from minor knee surgery, watching what I think was Godzilla II on a wall sized monitor. Set in an imaginary post-war Japan, its hero in the struggle against a vast and distinctly unfriendly monster from the deep was a failed kamikaze pilot and featured a much bigger Japanese navy than had survived the war. One of the ships I noticed was even called ‘kamikaze.’ Our hero achieved the mission of destroying the thing (or did he ? Options for Godzilla III were maintained) and even relocated Ariko, his young lady who had somehow survived the complete destruction of the high rise she was sheltering in. I found it quite genuinely fascinating, for all the analogies to a nuclear attack and the heroism of the military in a way that would have been completely unacceptable in Japan until the last decade  or so.

The second apartment was much older and stuffed with traditional Chinese stuff, wall hangings red and yellow decorations of all sorts. Piles of food, absolutely everywhere, Hokkien as this set of parents came from a different part of China. A nice set of traditional ebony chairs from Taiwan. The apartment was completely packed with people moving around, eating,  talking, sitting down and piles of kids playing obscure but noisy games in the corners of the room and collecting their red packets of course. The first day of CNY is for families, the second a more formal affair for friends. Everybody was extremely friendly. I was doing them the greatest favour imaginable by coming. Initially I was parked with some of the oldies. The chap next to me was second generation and used to be an expert on mending escalators. He showed me evidence of his second by-pass operation. Apparently now banned from riding his scooter by the rest of the family. His English wasn’t amazing, but a damn sight better than my mandarin. I was plied with food and drink sat and watched the animated scene with real interest.

What a big family I thought. I had been warned in advance but was really taken aback by the successive arrival of new family groups pouring in over the next hour or so. One of these groups was 17 people, including kids. They don’t get together very often and so set to work catching up in louder and louder mandarin and some Singlish, with explanations for me. At its peak there were between 60 and 70 people crammed into quite a small flat. It was joyful and excited bedlam. We ate at the table in informal shifts with people coming and going all the time. We above were about shift 4.

It was all very jolly. And I really did feel welcome as the only non-family member and a foreigner to boot. The females in particular have what I think the perfectly charming habit of energetically waving at you with beaming smiles when standing just 2 feet away. Pressure was relieved a bit when some of the kids were taken off to swim in the High Rise’s pool, and the time flashed past.

Then it was time to go, collecting one's oranges. Because they represent gold you have to leave with the same number that you came with. Back to the first flat where my hosts set to work preparing for Round 3. I wasn’t allowed to help, so was plonked on the settee with the young lad, given a bottle of Belgian beer (Leffe Blond, which I am very familiar with) more food to stave off starvation and started watching another fantasy. Not so sure about its plot as I fell asleep. Just for a short while. I was given a tour of the flat. Very minimalist and modern on the surface but all sorts of things stuffed into concealed corners. Especially into the mandatory air-raid shelter that all Singaporean flats are built with. I only hope that there’s enough warning before the Malaysians attack, for my hosts to get all their bicycles and so forth out of it first.

Then about half the lunch assembly arrived in contingents. Only about 30 people all told but in quite a small living area it seemed more. A bit calmer. Lots of chatting – the contingents including Air Force and Army officers, teachers, administrators, ex-museum administrators, one of who ran a photography gallery, judging exhibitions in London from time to time. More food and drink. Needless to say when they finally let me go ( I was the first in and the last out) I came away with a box of  hakka vegetarian. They got me a Grab and home I went.

So today, day 2, it being hot and my feeling a touch weary, I stayed at home, postponing a planned trip. But this did give me a literally bird’s eye view of how the elegant landed property behind me handled day 2 with friends. This was an equally crowded but much fancier affair, with everyone nicely dressed in clothes that looked new even if they weren’t. Bigger I think. Probably over 100.

They had got in some caterers and even hired a Lion Dance team to entertain  the masses. Hence all the drumming, clashing cymbals and shouting by 30 odd performers all dressed in gorgeous red and yellow costumes. This is an acrobatic effort in which the Lion seeks out oranges and occasionally bites people on the head to bring them good luck. Its very loud.

But with this  the year of the snake, being the year of the strong

willed (watch out America and the world) it's back to essay marking 

for me, for a while at least. 

PS I have to admit that CNY wasn't the only big event of my return to Singapore. The other was my 80th. Delivered by a big black Mercedes, I gave a big public lecture to about 150 people.  Afterwards, I was led off by the RSIS contingent and to my surprise found myself being serenaded with Happy Birthday and blowing out a candle on a cake. Its inside was virulently green, panan leaves I was told, but appropriately sweet and gooey ! A celebratory Italian meal followed.