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. 

Christmas - A Retrospective

 

Back in Singapore, and in need of a rest. Christmas 2024 was certainly a hectic time and required many more hours flitting from one place to another than was even halfway sensible. One reason for this was having to service my annual trip to the Defence Academy in Brussels, a commitment nested inside unshiftable commitments in Singapore. It was worth it though.  I had a big (but not too big) bunch of naval students from various of Europe’s navies, including a contingent from Sweden who were very interesting indeed about cable cutting incidents in the Baltic.  They made it sound as though we are already in a low-level war with Russia and China. Interesting times !

More cheerfully, it was a very convivial few days with a special lunch and a dining out night in town. In any case Brussels at Christmas time takes a lot of beating. They light up the Grande Place with a son et lumiere that’s quite spectacular and the place is really one big Christmas market. I had two individual suppers out as well, in my usual haunts one of which is the ‘King of Spain.’

Usually I try to get one of the little window seats you can just about see here but this year for the first time they were reservation only. It was fun anyway.  They have a stuffed horse by the central stairs  which I think I have given an annual pat to, off and on, since the mid 1970s when I used to come here with the Greenwich staff course. The other place is the Grand Café a convivial café-bar – all belle epoque. Food wise I go all Flemish, obviously.

The metro station I travel to is interesting and has a Starbucks I use for breakfast, often as their first customer. The station is Schuman, which as the name suggests is right underneath the famous Berlaymont building the home of the European Commission. The whole area is full of bright young things all chattering away in English. What an opportunity we kicked away in the referendum !

The only disagreeable part of the trip was the return trip since Great Western  had cancelled my train and I had to come home after an appallingly crowded train to Swindon, squeezed up standing room only and I had three heavy bags. Fortunately someone gave up their (illicit) seat for me and the person who reserved it from Reading never turned up to claim it. And then I had to find the special bus to Pewsey. That was an experience too. There were four of us on the vast bus which went to Pewsey by the most peculiar route taking almost as long as the Eurostar to Brussels. I really wondered if he was actually lost. Then the car home.

That apart, the festive season was a full on family event, divided like Caesar’s Gaul into three parts. The first was everyone (except poor Philippa suffering from a particularly poisonous kind of flu who stayed at home) at Cross in Hand. I had a difficult drive there arriving after dark and late and causing some concern. A late start because amongst the two month pile of post I discovered a DVLA reminder that I needed a MOT and wouldn’t be taxed without it, so not insured. That needed sorting out and afterwards, it was a stressful journey. Once there it was terrific. All the usual of course. So terrific in fact that many of possessions clearly did not want to leave. When I pulled up at a Services for a breakfast coffee, I discovered that my coat and wallet were amongst them. Plan B was doing without. Fortunately I had filled up the tank on the way  to Cross-in-Hand !

Stage 2 was at Wansdyke with the teams from Walthamstow and Burgess Hill, this time with Philippa, valiantly recovering. Again all the usual. Midnight mass at All Cannings and a nice collective meal at the King’s Arms. We managed a walk to the Canal, accumulating on the swing bridge for a photo.

Stage 3 was again at Wansdyke when Cross-in-Hand came for the New Year. Again all the usual. Wood burner going full bore. Food. Another King’s Arms supper and some much needed exercise to Avebury. There by the ‘miraculous tree’ I bumped into Edward, Pat and Jame’s son. Most unexpected ! We got some more exercise in the village actually. Heavy winds had brought down a tree that blocked the path to the village (as well as distressing two of my fruit trees). So we set to clearing it with some first class wooding. The result was dumped in the garage to dry off and wait for attention until I get back.

The second major task was to take down the Christmas decorations, including both trees) something done the last afternoon before S,R&V went home as I was returning to Singapore the following morning.

So, all pretty hectic ! Just as expected. A less expected event was Cousin Clive coming to Wansdyke with our silk rug from Udaipur all washed and mended. I treated him to the first of the three King’s Arms sessions  - the landlord (under pressure financially as they all are, surprisingly so for such a popular and active village pub now knows me by name !). We were just about to tuck in when Clive gave me a Christmas present. I was taken aback first by the idea and secondly by what it was. He lives in Istanbul (appropriately for a rug specialist) and happened to come across what he thought was a 1920’s Shanghai embroidery of HMS Endevour ( a survey ship) that had probably be done for a member of the crew and somehow ended up in an Istanbul flea market. I was so taken aback I really didn’t know what to say !  It’s now at a picture framers in Devizes, awaiting my return.

But that’s still two months away and there’s an awful lot here waiting to be done, which I had better get on with right now. Happy New Year.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

High Monsoon in the Watchtower

 

 

I have always thought of Singapore as a kind of watchtower, rather in the way that West Berlin was during the Cold War. It was the place to look around and get a variety of different views. This despite the fact that West Berlin was hardly an international crossroads. The week certainly confirmed the analogy. In just two days alongside my normal academic activity over here I sat in on a very cheery and breezy workshop that the British High Commission were organising for all the Defence attaches and advisors out in the Indo-Pacific and for people like BAE systems and Thales. This was interesting, and evidence that despite the Ukraine war, the Government appears to have no intention of scaling back on its commitment to the area. Nor to judge by a talk by the Swedish Foreign Minister I listened to does Sweden, or indeed any other European country as far as I can see. The extent to which Sweden has reversed course from its old 200 year old neutrality is quite astounding. But all that was fairly hum-drum academic I suppose.

However, just before that I was in a session on China and found myself sitting next to someone from the Russian embassy here. He was really interesting especially about Mr Putin’s nuclear threat. ‘My government is not going to do anything crazy’ he said, but he seemed genuinely interested in what I thought about things and didn't flinch when I told him. Interesting young chap. About two hours later I was in a group listening to what the Israeli Defence Attache had to say. He showed us an app on his phone which showed real-time Hezbollah missile attacks, quite detailed, how many rockets where they were headed, interception expectations – just like some kind of surreal video game, only for real. His immediate family were safely out here but he said he felt very guilty about that and twitched all the time about his parents back home, This was before the ICC warrant about Netanyahu so he escaped the grilling on that he would otherwise have got. In a horrible kind of way these really are ‘interesting times’ as the Chinese would say.

However back to the watchtower analogy. Up to the end of December it's high monsoon which means it rains every day at some time, and this is real rain, cats and dogs, bucketing down for quite long periods with localised flooding even in orderly Singapore and vicious cracks of thunder. If I am home when that happens the view from my top floor window reduces to about 10 feet. If I’m not like everyone else I run for cover if not already in it. Very difficult to plan for ! 

I was caught out in the rain forest by just such a shower ! I’m told things will get better after Christmas. We’ll see.

I have been amazingly well looked after. Last evening out to a Chinese eatery called ‘Enjoy Eating’ – which I did. Did you like the pig trotters they asked afterwards. And actually,  yes I did. Not too keen on the fish maw, mind you. Fish fingers are more my style. It’s all certainly an adventure, therefore. 

I try to get some exercise to balance all that eating, drinking and sitting around. This afternoon I did ‘the’ walk around Marina Bay (something like 12000 steps) This took me past what we called the Cricket Stumps.

An amazing hotel, where we once stayed, courtesy of a firm with lots of money. At the top – where the trees are – there’s an infinity pool where it really does look like you are about to swim over the edge. Along the bottom, there’s huge, plush, upmarket shopping mall. One of Cherry’s favourites. I was pleased to see the TWG tea Shoppe we used to frequent was still there. 7 years ago. It seems unbelievable. The shell like building bottom left is the Arts and Science Museum

The whole structure was built by the Koreans under careful Singaporean monitoring. On time and within budget, It makes some of our schemes look really amateurish. It also illustrates what I mean about Singapore being a real international crossroads. The people round the Marina bay this afternoon were also the most cosmopolitan crowd imaginable. People-watching here, over an ice-cold Tiger, is really rewarding

This ‘my’ bar on Emerald Hill is much more my style – hers too though. It’s the one in the middle. I use the stool at the very back on the left and lean against the pillar, to do my emails etc.

Where I am staying is on the edge of the Botanic gardens, ideal for quick trots out from the apartment. Lots to see. And interesting occupants. I nearly stepped on this chap in the leaf litter, One of the most extraordinary trees is this one slowly being strangled by a fig. Interesting also to see how mangrove swamps are formed, growing down from the top not the bottom.

The gardens have a little museum too of its founding in the 1830s and developing fortunes thereafter. It had a big role in the introduction of rubber into the region, which in the age of the new motor car did very well. Synthetic rubber was developed in the war, and after that not so good. Now Malaysia grows palm oil instead, which is worse for the environment of course. I was fascinated  though by this very early photograph of the visit of the King of Thailand in 1871. He's the chap in the middle holding the white hat. The original is sharper than my shaky copy. There I was in shorts and tee shirt, frankly sweating. All those ridiculous clothes in this climate ! They must have stunk like polecats ? Or maybe they didn't ? 

So, I am really doing my best to see everything I can while I am here. Cramming it all in with getting on with the book revise and doing teaching. All good fun, but very time consuming. I have to make a deliberate effort to stop and consider, like sitting on a bench with this view of one of the ponds of the garden. All in all I should remember this tree  - the one in the middle, engulfed over time by this extraordinary Strangling Fig. It first gets a grip, drops tendrils down to the ground, which develop into a denser, thirstier mass all around the tree. It dies in the end of course.

The same growing technique is evident in the mangrove plant on the dark right of this picture and below. These days mangrove swamps also need protecting. Throughout the Indian Ocean they got badly hit by the Boxing day Tsunami in 2004.

I have made the time issue worse fir myself in some ways, since I am flitting back to Europe at the end of the week to fulfil a long-standing commitment which I couldn't shift, the returning to Singapore before finally heading home for Christmas, which I am also much looking forwards to.  

Christmas is Coming Here Too

 

I knew it wouldn’t be long, but Christmas arrived this week in my apartment block in Singapore. As I blearily stepped out of the lift on Monday morning on my way to College, there was a tree in the lobby glittering  away, presents all around.

And later, when getting some milk from my local ‘Cold Storage’ (the local version of Waitrose- well some connection at least as some of its brand is available) I overheard, above an idiosyncratic, relayed version of Auld Lang Syne,  an animated discussion between two of the staff about which way round the reindeer should go. It should welcome customers, one said. The other evidently thought not.

          It was a reminder of just how fast this two weeks has flashed past, since the last transmission I very rapidly concocted (you could probably tell !) in the departure lounge at Heathrow.  It’s been a busy time, mind. I’ve opened a bank account. I’ve been ‘onboarded’ – they use the same phrase here as in Newport - and this morning went through the final stage of getting an employment pass. I’ve started the course – quite a big bunch of enthusiastic but apprehensive students so far, as varied as ever. I’ve attended my first hotel conference – on Disruptive Technology. (An essential part of being an academic, I find, is the capacity to speak magisterially on subjects you know virtually nothing about, but should). I’ve been thoroughly inducted into the local IT system (been given an account, shown how to print, scan and communicate etc etc)  and done a little to customise my spanking new office. Not much though. I find the one book I’ve got on my very smart bookshelves a bit unnerving. But in truth I think most of the book writing will take place in my apartment. Nice though it is, they don’t cater for academics so with the aid of various cardboard boxes scavenged from Cold Storage (they don’t want you sticking things on the walls) I’ve constructed a little work area in one corner of the living room, which I am quite pleased with. The family pictures should be conducive to genius.  

Finally, I’ve cracked all the tips about how best to get to college on the days when I am not being picked up. 3 MRT (or tube) line trips and one quite long bus ride. 60-75 minutes usually with a cappuccino in the Management School when I get there. This is one of the new buildings the university is very proud of – huge, made of wood, and uses traditional temperature control techniques to operate without air conditioning. I like it.

The so-called beehive next to it I think pretty awful in looks and function. All the rooms are circular so there isn’t a flat wall anywhere, and half the students have to sit facing the other way! It won any number of awards of course.

 Fortunately, I don’t teach there, and have a more conventional small very modern lecture theatre which works well. I admitted to the students that I have a problem with technology in my first session, so they were prepared as well as amused when I couldn’t work out how to switch the lights off.

On top of this I have managed a few mini-trips to the local sites, the Asian Civilizations Museum as ever. This included a wander around the area, where there was some kind of Indian festival going on. Looking down on it was a statue of Raffles, a truly amazing man who effectively founded the modern Singapore in two or three years from 1819. It existed before but as a tiny sleepy little fishing kampong of a couple of itinerant families. The local Sultan was only too happy to give it away, for a consideration in the anticipation that Raffles would transform the place. Which he certainly did. I wondered what he would think now if he could see it. Mixed feelings I would guess. He was a great botanist, nature lover and admirer of local custom. So all this ultra-modern city-centric cosmopolitanism wouldn't have been entirely to his taste.

 I have also managed  my two reciprocal clubs – (I still have the British one to do – I’ve only been once and that was to give a Trafalgar night after dinner talk), tracked down 3 little antique shops (all closed, please ring) and of course the Botanical gardens, virtually next to my apartment.  I did though enjoy a quiet ‘Happy Hour’ at my favourite bar on Emerald Hill, where I did my emails accompanied by peanuts and a very welcome very cold glass of Jebisu beer. Much more to do so I had better get on with it…..

Hail and Farewell

It's been a disgracefully long time since the last transmission, no doubt a disappointment to my countless followers. But I kind of expected it after seeing the state the house and garden were in when I got back from the US. These last couple of months I have been eyes down trying to rectify it all. That and redoing the book meant here wasn’t much time for communicating with the rest of the world or for relaxation, apart from the odd family trip and my weekly injection at Caffe Nero.

But I must say that I am pleased with the results. Both the House and garden are looking much better and bedded down for autumn and winter. Of course there’s still loads to do. The Granny Annex is now up and running after two floods. Complete with antique rugs from Kashmir and Afghanistan, courtesy of Cousin Clive.  The recent awful events in Spain are concerning so just in case the annex is sand-bagged to a level significantly higher higher than it was last time – as well as a big new water-diversion system done. I am very much a belt-and-braces man. The water ends up in the road on the corner anyway, but I had rather it didn’t do so via the annex and garage. This year the Annex has been a major unlooked for extra commitment.

The latter has also been the site of an unremitting war against rodents after the £ 2000 damage they did to the car. So far 12 to 1 to me, which just suggests the scale of the problem. - and that doesn't count the three totally desiccated ones I found in the loft when giving it a last check before the taxi arrived. Regardless of such victories,  I still don’t dare put the car away in the garage.

Anyway all this helps explain the silence from my end recently.

Highlights of the time included a great family weekend at Burgess Hill where nearly all the clan were able to assemble despite the lurginess (clearly not a word, but you’ll know what I mean)  of some of its members. Not just no ill-effects but a great tonic, not least the opportunity to revisit Wakehurst Place gardens, utterly transformed from the time when were based at Crawley Down. It was unrecognisable. Also vast numbers of visitors – hard to believe how to believe so many. All present were on fine form. Here are the two junior princesses. It was all really fun.

And so, in a different way, was a school reunion of about a dozen (very) old boys from Bishop Wordsworth’s Grammar School at the White Hart hotel in Salisbury. A convivial lunch was followed up for those of us with the energy to go on a tour of the school afterwards. Again, great differences – a Reception and check-in system, though no fire-arm detectors quite yet. My particular aim was to get back inside the building in the Quad that was for the civilized members of the school, namely the Arts Sixth Form. It was in a

building accessible from the Cathedral Close16^th Century if not earlier. I had a minder, the very personable and assured Head Boy and he said he enjoyed it too as he had never been into this part of the school. I was searching for the small oak panelled room which a very small ultra-select group of us used as our base camp. This was indeed located, but in the throes of the investigation I inadvertently poked into the Headmaster’s office, again oak panelled, much bigger of course and with a lovely fireplace. I had no idea it was there. He was a bit surprised but was charming about the intrusion and we had a nice little chat. My minder was impressed. The holy of holies obviously. Here the inspecting party may be seen outside the more prosaic part of the school. ( I wasn't putting myself forwards - it was just where I happened to be standing when our guide took the picture.  Interesting to see that the prestigious Science block opened by Dr Bronowski in the early 1960s was looking distinctly worse for wear in comparison. Interesting also, if in a different way, was the double-take when we told then what year we were,

There were also a few other nice distractions too, a weird dinner party in Oxford to commemorate the appearance of a major work on the history of the Royal Navy at which I was strangely feted for being an apparently significant but unconscious contributor. A fun meeting of the Friends of Friendless Churches at Long Crichel, Dorset, followed. Two of the highlights of this were sitting down on a low table tomb, next to a lady on her own who turned out to be an Art Historian Prof, at Winchester - very interesting - and being given the most enormous slab of cake (plus another to take home !) I’ve ever had. Bad for the diet but fantastic. The more conventional members of the group used the blue tables you can see here. Cherry and I had 'done' the church before of course. This was a different church group - in Dorset after all so I wasn't on duty this time. Much more relaxing. En route I inflicted myself for coffee on Tony and Maya in Shaftesbury. 

A work visit to the IMO [International maritime Organisation- a UN outfit that regulates the global shipping industry] with an amazing view of the Thames and another to Trinity House. In the margins of this I managed to squeeze in a trip to Till-Jones land in Walthamstow but a major KCL reunion already booked up had to be cancelled because of flooding on the railway line. Long story but not for now 

And so to all points East once again, but now for the last hurrah….

A New Normal Beckons

 

I’ve just returned from my last jaunt, details to follow. And now a quiet period of two months without a trip awaits. This in fact is quite welcome after the past couple of months which were ridiculously frantic. They also contributed a lot to the general decay of house and garden which I have been lamenting for some time now.  The scale of this was brought home to me by the state of the windows at the back of the garage which I attended to in the fortnight before the Sweden trip. Getting them out of the danger zone, however temporarily, was quite a challenge in time, let alone skill, and the effort barely scratched the enormous ‘to do’ list that  I have been building up. And, of course, the challenge is a consequence of my being away so much over the past couple of years. Getting to grips with it could actually turn out to be rather satisfying.

That fortnight, though also saw me getting the car serviced and a social engagement or two. This included the All Cannings Garden Club BBQ where I found I knew rather more  people than I expected to. Here’s a picture of me apparently in full flow, perhaps saying how big my cucumbers are.

After all my grief in the garden – thanks to slugs, Muntjac deer, terrible weather etc, I have been rather encouraged by the extent to which the garden has recovered from a low which saw three sowings of Broad Beans producing exactly one bean (bean -not pod) which I ate with relish, the onions completely failing for the first time ever and the logan berries, gooseberries and black currants just being taken by the birds while I was away. Since then, though, it’s been reassuring  to find excellent crops of French Beans, early Apples and blackberries, sufficient raspberries and wheel-barrow loads of plums of every size and description. The real surprise though was finding the pear tree producing a dozen eatable pears,  the first since we moved in thirty years ago. The outside freezer is getting seriously re-stocked, and at the BBQ, I didn’t feel as ashamed of my performance as I really should have done. I still need to get the potatoes up, though. That could be tense.

The last trip for some time was to Sweden via Copenhagen which was a gathering of ancient mariners – only about ten of us, largely Swedish and British though my American friend John Hattendorf came too. (His wife was Swedish and he speaks it too, along with several other European languages). The subject was the country’s maritime strategy now they have joined NATO. This was very interesting but the real delight was the food, the company, the setting and the sights we saw. I was bowled over by the food – everything we had was totally delicious. I said, on the basis of this, how surprised I was that there weren’t more Swedish restaurants around. ‘Well,’ said one of our hosts a bit defensively, ‘there are two in New York.’

The setting was a small seaside town, the Baltic being about a hundred yards away. Our host was a chief executive of a Japanese-Swedish shipping company (and one could easily see why, clearly brilliant but extremely personable) , evidently well loaded and with an obsessive interest in naval history. He had his own naval museum where we held our meetings and his charming wife (who actually collects Abba memorabilia) is a saint to put up with the fact that their house (read small elegant mansion- and one of several) was absolutely stuffed with the growing overflow. They put several of us in their place. I was in the Hen House, well that was the latest use it was put to in its 400 year existence before being converted into an annex bedroom, the walls covered historic maps. Here are two views of the residence, the top from the garden table I used to do some work, write diary etc. Hen house on the right, antique stuffed dining room on the left. Below, a view of Baltic the other way round from the back of the main house.

After the main weekend event, John and I were treated to a special tour of other naval sights and stayed in Tromto manor, the decayed Summer residence of one of our company, a member, as they say, of one of Sweden’s ‘oldest families.’ This is him in the amazing rope-walk of Karlskrona naval base.

His part-time residence was large, by the side of a lake and reachable only up a three mile woodland track, mainly 16^th-18^th Century and only partly modernised. 

No modern heating or any of that nonsense. Again,  stuffed with antiques, this time of the family. It was all hands to the plough for the five of us to make ourselves comfortable. It was brilliant and I developed a real liking for schnapps. It was the sort of place I used once to dream about getting and modernising in the holidays – of course in fact it would have been an absolute nightmare.

Here's my room after I had made up the bed and settled in. Also a representative salon showing the manor's still current use as a hunting lodge in the season. They have a lot of trouble with wild boar, hence no garden now. But at least we had some for dinner one night. Also the view from the rook area of the lake with my shadow - rather clever that I thought.

From this bit of borrowed paradise our tour included Kalmar castle, which was as fantastic inside as it looked from outside and which had a great restaurant in the room they used to sign the Kalmar Union of 1397. I really liked the chapel too. 

Then on to Karlskrona and another naval museum, a tour of the nearby naval base, lunch at the Officer’s club and much else. Unfortunately the cathedral which I wanted to see was closed, but you can’t have everything. I'm aware that this boring series of superlatives sounds over the top but it really was a quite outstanding trip and absolutely shows that here in Europe for all the fancy ways of more distant areas we have a lot going for us.

Once home, a day to unpack and prepare for a lovely family weekend  to renew acquaintance – another major disadvantage of the globe-trotting life style now drawing to a close.  There was much feasting the picking of apples and all the delightful usual. 

And then a Church visit to the south of the County, where we were taken to visit five churches. I had actually visited four of them already – one 40 years ago !  But this was an opportunity to do them in depth. Especially for me as I was official group note-taker and photographer, and to make this possible I spent the day before on a recce. Even in driving rain this was useful as I could do some of the photography in peace and quiet and was also able to divine the quickest routes from place to place and the best parking spots. The only one I was late for on the day, was at Maiden Bradley but that because I was able to inveigle myself into a splendid lunch with Pat and James.

If all goes on like this I suspect I will still have things to do, when I finally hang up my mortarboard !

Up North and Out East

 

Lots of travelling and socialising these past few weeks. It started with a delightful long weekend with Ann and Mike in Beverley. It was quite a long drive so on the way up I broke the journey at Charlecote Park and coming back at Hardwick Hall. I like to get the maximum use of my NT card ! I must say, Hardwick Hall was stupendous – such a scale. I was so inspired that when I got back I started reading a biography of Elizabeth Ist which has been on my bedside table now for rather too long.

Once in Beverly wonderful companionship – so much to talk about. It started well. I was admiring their great Welsh dresser and Mike said there was a secret drawer in it. I wanted to see it, but when looking for it, Mike inadvertently found a second one ! Inside there was a letter of the 1870s which neither of them remembered ever having seen before. It was a sad letter of resignation on health grounds of a local vicar. Fascinating!

Of course we found time for doing some local houses and churches and eating well. In particular an extraordinary series of embellished Victorian churches covered in wall paintings. Garton had an amazing roof and I was very pleased with this near perfect picture of it. I took it bending backwards as much as I could.

Sledmore House was interesting. Outside Mike showed me the Waggoner’s war memorial which showed the Germans being beastly to the Belgians in 1914. Fake news really with one or two exceptions of course. So Donald Trump didn’t invent that concept either.

 But a real find was this picture of a dissolute young man, Henry Cecil Paget, 5^th Baronet of Anglesey who just might have played rather a significant part in the family history. More research needed !ouseHouse was fascinatingHopuse

After this great weekend, it was time for a quick rush around of last minute jobs before packing once more for Singapore. This trip was very different from the last one since I spent most of the first week helping out with a Maritime Security course at the Navy’s Changi base. There were some 140 punters from a whole variety of countries, including Europe, the Gulf and Africa as well of course as lots of locals. An interesting bunch of people many of whom I got to know quite well. One of the highlights [apart from my lecture, naturally] was a visit to a glitzy shipping company in a really glitzy high-rise with stupendous views. They had real-time communications with the captains of their ships as they headed for the approaches to the Red Sea.

Tapping into these discussions comparing time and fuel costs, when set against the risk of attack, plus the details of their insurance packages was fascinating. I realised how tightly controlled their ship captains were.  Nelson would have turned over in his grave had he heard, but he would at least have been pleased at the high priority being attached to crew safety.

During the conference, there was a collision between two tankers and a fire just off shore in the Singapore  strait – two of Russia and Iran’s so called ‘dark fleet’ of oil sanction-busters. Judging by the fact that one of them was a hit-an-run merchant, later arrested by the Malaysians, they were up to no good at night- probably a dangerous ship-to-ship oil transfer. It reminded us all how important what we were doing actually was. Even though it’s behind the scenes so most ordinary folk don’t realise how critical it all is. No shipping, no shopping as they say .

But there were plenty of light-hearted moments too, with a lot of the wining and dining with the RSIS Maritime team

that is so fatal for the waist-line. No wine actually, generally local Tiger beer. The weekend I arrived saw a rehearsal of Singapore’s National Day celebrations and they had an open day at the Istana which I came across and went in despite the fact that it was midday and stinking hot. Nice English style country house grounds, appropriate as this used to be the Governor’s residence. Imposing.

It’s now used for state functions  and decorated with gifts from around the world. Only two from Europe, the Dutch and us. Appropriate I suppose. The UK gift was a rather insipid watercolour of the UK High Commissioner’s current residence. But the clear winner I thought was this spectacular sand painting from Rwanda.

For me though a real highlight of that week was sitting outside No 5, Emerald Hill in the velvety darkness of an evening  reading Anne’s excellent ‘Simple Dame Fairfax’ over a Tiger and four-cheese pizza. It was the back story of the housekeeper in Jane Eyre, totally absorbing. I shall do a review of it for Amazon

And then it was off to Jakarta for more visits and talks  with defence colleges and research institutes, more meetings, the obligatory masses of photos. Here’s me in full flow in my batik (so much more practical than a suit) on Chinese strategy.

and also the ignominy of more or less having to perform at a Korean karaoke barbecue event with a spirited rendition of ‘Country Roads’ and less successfully ‘I did it my way’ (I hadn’t realised how damn long that song was !) There were about 50 of them and they all cheered when I finished, curiously just as a US warship appeared on the supporting screen.  I hoped the cheering was a gesture of appreciation but fear it was just relief that I’d finished.

Jakarta has changed a lot since we first went there all those years ago. We stayed in two hotels there. In the first they’d run out of rooms so they gave me an upgrade. It was so big I got lost in it. Swanky shopping malls are popping  up here and there and clusters of amazing mirror glass skyscrapers, right next to dirty narrow, dark little streets lined with tiny stalls selling everything under the sun . The medieval and the 21st Century sitting side by side.

 Rather more head-scarfs around than I remembered ( and a few all over bourkas with even the eyes hidden behind sunglasses) but still plenty of mini-skirts  and tank tops. I’m always surprised that there’s not more social tension than there is in Indonesia, They’ve just had an election there and a change of government, all very orderly. Much discussion about what it will all mean. An interesting indication of UK influence I spotted. But I think it was the Japanese who made them drive on the left not us.

And then, a week and two hotels later it was a last pack, Singapore and home. Now a quiet summer awaits ! Hopefully getting everything back in order. Maybe.