Harry Patch - Last British WW1 soldier

Britain´s last surviving World War One soldier died this summer.

During the last years of his 111, Harry Patch urged all that would listen never to forget the 9.7 million young men who perished in The Great War (1914-18).

A few years back I found an interesting DVD which had colourised and digitally remastered World War One of original news-reel and despite all the original footage watched in O´Level History classes, it brought back all the true horrors these soldiers had to endure. Devastating would be an understatement.

So traumatised by the experience, Patch would hold an annual private vigil for the 70,000 who died at the battle of Passchendaele, and even in his later years, could get flashbacks when he saw the light go on when he opened the refrigerator door – a classic symptom of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

“War isn´t worth one life,” he was famously quoted.

Shy and retiring, Harry Patch only began talking about his appalling experiences after turning 100, and his autobiography The Last Fighting Tommy was published in 2007.

Fittingly, Patch´s funeral service was held on July 27th at Wells Cathedral with full military honours.

Which brings me in nicely to the current war in Afghanistan. Two more British soldiers died on Friday bringing the death-toll of 206 British army personnel. A tiny proportion of the number of Afghan civilians innocently killed and which nobody seems to be counting.

Since Alexander the Great invaded the area in 330BC, countless invaders have come and gone. Including two failed attempts by the British! What the hell are the British doing there again? When will they admit defeat? Do they know what victory will look like? Clueless and pointless.

Don´t get me started on the Americans...


Lambs to the slaughter? RAF personnel flying out of Luton to Afghanistan

A Saturday Ritual - Watford Football Club

For my sins, I´ve been visiting Vicarage Road – the home of Watford Football Club - since I was four years old, and I always try and pay homage every year.

Born in nearby Garston, no-one could accuse me of glory-hunting; jumping on the bandwagon with Manchester United or the relative closeness of Arsenal. After all, as Philip Larkin would say, Watford is where my childhood was unspent.

The football club´s claim to fame is through the flamboyant Elton John – another Watford supporter addicted from an early age. Indeed, my marriage to K. was the first wedding to be held in the stadium.

My earliest travel experiences date from the time i would travel to away matches across England as a young teenager.

This year, i´m first able to attend a friendly against the Italian Series A team, Parma and watch an entertaining five goal thriller with Watford coming out victors.

There was also a moving one minute´s applause for the late, great Sir Bobby Robson – a true gentleman of football – repeated again at the first league match – Doncaster Rovers.

So it is with some confidence I´m able to witness Watford´s first match of the 09/10 season.

Click here to savour the pre-match anticipation.

Ouch! This one – all bore draw is like watching a nail rust, and Boy has to dig me in the sides to keep me awake for the full ninety minutes

I´ll listen to the live games on the potentially excellent although often erratic Watford World Home site, but i´m secretly pleased that I won´t have to watch the drivel.

I did get an opportunity to witness high-definition premiership coverage for the first time - gob-smacking!

Watford Football Club currently sit in position 12 of the Championship (2nd division), but it is going to be a long season.

A Trip Up North

I´m much indebted to Jen, Rich and Isak for providing such generous hospitality for a three day rush around the North East of England.

One of the most beautiful wildernesses in England, the area had a long history of mining and ship-building. The evil Margaret Thatcher (and I mean evil) devastated the mining industry in the nineteen eighties and the docks receded in tandem.

Although there are a few signs of some economic recovery, including a co-op in every small village, wind – turbines scattered across the hills and a couple of new developments being built (although sit empty), the devastation that hit this friendly and witty community is all too evident.

I need to pick up some Benny Hedgehogs and some real coffee, so we stop at one of the co-op grocery stores. It´s just before 5pm and a bleary-eyed elderly drunk rolls up to me by the counter.
“Me? I´m drunk!!!” he shouts in my ear as he stumbles through the aisle carrying a six pack of extra strong. There is nothing else to do, but to congratulate him. The young cashier persistently asks him politely to join the queue behind the line. Outside the supermarket I note a several other male villagers in the square drinking lager or cider. I guess it´s Friday, but it does seem a tad early.

Jen has lived in the village of Stanley Crooke in a small terraced house for about 15 years. The views from her back windows are superb. Indeed i´ve asked her for first refusal on the place, although I don´t think she takes me seriously.


View from Back

The surrounding villages include Billy Tow, Sunniside, Wearside and Stanhope each offering their own unique rural charm. The surrounding countryside is both beautiful and desolate, making up part of the Pennine Way.

Jen is a country ranger for Durham County Council – not dissimilar to Ranger Smith, the park ranger in Yogi Bear. My arrival ties in with a field trip to one of her sites for a butterfly census. It´s great if not very scientific. We recognise many, but not all the species. The population looks healthy and there is plenty of diversity – part of Jen´s remit.

We spend the first full day zooming through the countryside in the rain. Jen is famed for very fast driving down small country lanes. We head up to Alston, the highest market town in England to connect with the steam train on the South Tynedale- Isak, Jen´s two and a half year old, is a transport nut and enjoys the short return journey to Kirkhaugh. Not too dissimilar to my recent Darjeeling experience - wet and small guage steamy!



The train in action can be viewed here.

Some running commentary and whistle can be viewed here.

After another delicious dinner, Rich, Jen´s partner, offers me a brief tour to visit two local traditional pubs. I ask Rich to order for he possesses a strong Northern (although not local) accent. Rich is an environmental health and food inspector which provided a bit of confrontation in another favourite.

The first is okay; it´s busy, old looking and a crowd of regulars are lined up at the bar. The second is the real deal – wooden floorboards, dominoes in a corner, a coal fire burning and elderly locals who gaze at the arrival of strangers.

Whilst supping a succulent half Golden Sheep top, the landlord brings out late night shepherd´s pie and egg sandwiches – a Friday hand-out to the locals. A very nice touch!

Rich explains the nature of his work and the ins and outs of his work. He says he would have to be “completely mind-fucked” to ever buy a doner kebab. Tiny meat content, obscenely high fat content, vast quantities of preservatives and unhygienic methods of preparation. He is also not very encouraging about Chinese take-aways, but fortunately they are cooked in white-hot woks which pretty much kills everything off. Nothing he tells me can deter my love for my local Chinese restaurant whilst in UK. After four halfs it is time to leave. We stagger back through the dark country lanes in the rain and the wind that never dies.

My three hosts offer to drive me up the surrounding coastlines. It´s still raining as we head of up to Newbiggin, stopping at the delightful Morpeth for coffee and a cheese shop.

The British artist and sculptor, Sean Henry has produced a huge statue Couples which sits in the middle of the cove. An amazing structure, it manages to dominate the entire town. St Bartholemew´s church dominates the northern end of the sandy beach, part of which dates from the 13th century. We enjoy a fish and chip lunch and the sun finally breaks out. After a few more photos, we head on down the coast-line through Whitley Bay to Tynemouth with it´s old priory and dramatic lighthouse.

Couples by Sean Henry



Lighthouse at Tynemouth

A few more snaps can be viewed by clicking here.

My last night in the North East was a visit to the culmination of this annual event which offer workshops in traditional Irish music. Lots were on offer including an excellent rendition from a button accordian – a wonderful medieval sound, flute and ensembles at a concert at the modernist Gala theatre in the beautiful city of Durham.

I´ve tried to put on a few video clips for your perusal.

Click here to listen to the button accordian.

For a guitar and whistle duet click here.

For the complete ensemble, click here.

Dr Gloves spent his undergrad. years here about 25 years ago, and the place has changed little, retaining is character and charm, all to rare in British cities.

Bruno (with The Parents)

My parents love me. I know because they insisted on taking me to the cinema to watch the latest offering from Sacha Baron Cohen – Bruno to try and cheer me up.

Those unfamiliar with this talented if warped British comedian has enjoyed previous incarnations as Borat (a mock Kazakhstan journalist) and Ali G (a white black guy).

Bruno is a gay Austrian fashionista whose journey to find stardom leads him to seek peace in the middle-east, attempt to get kidnapped by Hamas – (referred to as humus throughout), and swap an i-pod for an African baby.

This is definitely not a movie that should be attended with one´s parents. It is desperately funny and on several occasions far too close to the knuckle.

Baron-Cohen attended the exclusive public (private) school Haberdashers. My Main Man Graeme was also an attendee of this bastion of snobbery and high academic standards, and despite being peers, G remembers jack shit of the Hollywood star. I hope his parents are proud of his accomplishments.

Ma (who is getting more eccentric and liberated by the year) laughs out loud throughout this roller-coaster of a film, and although Pa was close to walking out after Bruno dangles his meat and two veg in front of the camera, he can´t help but embarrassingly try to cover his chortles as the film progresses.

Aub´s One Line Review : Despite its more base moments, you gotta love it! Just don´t go with your parents.

Golf

How pointless is it to hit a tiny ball with sticks for up to 483 yards to try and get it in a hole?

Yet golf is so cool! It´s a great way to spend quality time with a companion or three surrounded by greenery. I spent a considerable time on golf courses during my four week visit to England.

I´m really a hacker who usually only gets to play a couple of times a year. My last golfing experience was in Pokhara, Nepal back in December - which has to be one of the most scenic courses in the World.

One way to considerably your game is to purchase top quality golf clubs. Pa was happy to lend me his king of all clubs – a Ping 13.5 wood. This is a highly forgiving club – it must be for I´m driving 230 + yards and as straight as Tiger Woods. I love it!

Pa is a member of the exclusive Sandy Lodge golf course. Although there is a respectable mix of races, it´s pretty snobby stuff. Complete golfing etiquette is expected, and full dress code is required including having one´s shirt tucked into trousers. How I managed to get away with black jeans i´m not quite sure, but I did on all five visits.

Success was had with my two UK-based blood brothers with Pa – a regular player since his retirement - giving us a much needed two strokes per hole. With a back nine on 49 I wiped the floor with them all, with the highlight being a birdie on hole 12 – labelled the most difficult par three in Britain by the much respected Peter Alliss – the James Brown equivalent of golf commentators. It´s these outrageous moments that I love golf and know i´m hooked for life.

I shared Callum´s full set of Pings and it clearly proved that you can drop at least 10 shots per round by having a quality set of clubs.

Many thanks to the following golfing partners
Giant Ginger Callum - who taught me what I haven´t been doing for a year on Facebook
Boy – who trounced me in Southwood with a 6.30am tee-off on a Sunday
Graeme - introduction to Bushey Heath golf club
SRN - who tamed Tricky Ricky on two occasions
Pa – who treated me to several hacks on a real class course for some father/son bonding sessions.

Click here to see my five wood drive at the 18th tee Sandy Lodge.

Back in McLeod Ganj

Despite the monsoon, this evening was clear. I took this shot with my 300mm lens from the balcony


Although my Summer was an excellent mix of work and pleasure back in England, it is great to be back in McLeod Ganj - despite the mildew growing on the bed, and lack of mobile telephone and reliable Internet connection

It´s also cool, wet and delightful. Unfortunately for the second summer in a row, the weather was predominantly cold, wet and/ or overcast.

For those following on Twitter, my next few postings will be about some of the odds and ends I enjoyed back in the UK, before returning to life back in India.

My body-bag of a case was jam packed with my research stuff and a wide variety of goodies purchased at Waitrose supermarket in Northwood, including eight packets of coffee (six of which are Colombian, 1.5 kilos of cheese, matzoh meal (for the manufacturing of schnitzels, pickles, English mustard and high quality of mayonnaise.

Meanwhile, once again LJ has found an excellent overview of the politics of McLeod Ganj. Click here to read.

Editor notes new photos of London are going up here.

Doggy Mad

My youngest brother and sister-in-law have followed my Mum’s predilection for Shetland sheep-dogs. Marley was purchased from pedigree stock about 2 years ago, and is very much their surrogate child. He is a most pampered pooch with a choice of baskets, his own doggie seat and belt for the car, and more toys than Hamley’s.

Marley is undoubtedly a very handsome sheltie – an expensive thoroughbred, although, much to my bro’s disappointment, Marley is too small for studding out. Too bad as it is an extremely lucrative industry.

Nonetheless, Marley has more qualifications than Boy himself, with awards for both discipline and agility. Marley attends agility classes every Friday evening and Boy invited me last week.

The class is made up of predominantly middle aged eccentrics (almost all divorced women), and the teacher is a strict disciplinarian. She is clearly a woman with a mission who seems to spend more of her time training the owners than the dog. Heaven help you if a mistake is made.

A classic evening out!

Footballers Behaving Badly

I have to confess to a love of football – the real kind, not that barstardisation of rugby developed by Americans.

My passion is shared by millions, not just in UK but world-wide. Many of these avid armchair fans would agree that the most exciting is that of the premier league in England and it is a multi-million pound industry.

Top football players can earn in excess of GBP80,000 a week – more than the average teacher or social worker will earn in a three year period. Now there is no doubt that these players are very gifted and talented in their field (no pun intended), yet one can’t help that such wages might not really be justifiable.

Of course these young men are not known for having much education; more often than not signing on for professional contracts at sixteen, and an intelligent footballer is like finding a washed up whale in The Thames – extremely rare!

Football players are also not immune to a bit of thuggery. Take the case of Steven Gerrard who was up in court last month for assault having attacked a barman after celebrating a 5 – 1 victory against Newcastle where he netted two of the goals.

Now Stevie G as he is affectionally known is both the Liverpool captain and a regular English international player. He is particularly loved on the Merseyside city as he is one of just two regular players that hale from Liverpool.

Now despite a request from Gerrard, the barman refused to change the music – “no” being a word he is not used to hearing being uttered on his “home patch.” An argument soon ensued and Stevie G was clearly caught on CCTV cameras throwing three swift punches to the barman's head leading to a broken tooth and four stitches to the man’s head.

Gerrard pleaded not guilty in the Liverpool court and claimed that he had to get his punches in first before he was attacked. An interesting defence! Even more interestingly, but maybe not surprisingly, Gerrard received a not guilty verdict. Hoorah for the British justice system!

Of course it’s not just English footballers who like to behave badly. The brilliant Four Four Two football magazine ran a story in it September edition about the gifted, but volatile Mao Jingquing who plays for Shanghai Shenua Newcastle.

Mao first ran into trouble as a youth player after kicking a fan and attacked the referee. After he broke into the first team he was quickly demoted after drunkenly kicking in the door of his manager’s car. Eager-to-please apprentices were caught smuggling in beer to the dressing room. After Shanghai narrowly missed out on the Chinese title, Mao kicked punched and ash-trayed a diner who was looking at one of his female companions. He was released from police custody after issuing a public apology.

Boycott Britain

Today The Times newspaper reports that Russian health officails are urging a boycott of Britain due to the Swine Fever outbreak.

With 11,912 confirmed cases of H1N1 (Swine Fever sounds so much cooler!)Britain is becoming a hotbed of the potentially lethal disease.

Top bod Gennadi Onishenko claims Britain has been completely irresponsible in failing to contain the pandemic.

Sounds about right then!