Author: sheona

The latest Lonely Planet guide to Great Britain has nice things to say about Essex.  After mentioning all the stereotypes of chavs and rundown seaside resorts, it then describes  “a rural idyll of medieval villages and rolling countryside”.   This is exactly what we encountered a few days ago when we visited Saffron Walden.  As the name suggests, its wealth came from the Crocus Sativus, cultivated locally for about 400 years until the end of the 18th century.  Saffron Walden has the biggest parish church in Essex which reminded me of some of the “wool” churches in Suffolk when I saw it from a distance.  It has a peal of twelve bells,  one of the largest rings in Essex. ( Of course, all this “biggest/largest” does sound a bit stereotypical Essex.)  Bellringers of the past have quite a few records to their credit, which reminded me of the Dorothy L. Sayers’ book “The Nine Tailors”.

There are quite a lot of very old buildings,  Grade 1 and Grade 2 listed, kept in good repair.  It is a pleasure to follow the Town Trail round the narrow streets.  The castle is now in ruins – I suspect it’s been decaying since Henry II rendered it indefensible in 1158.

The Lonely Planet Guide also states that Britain is now very expensive.  I’m sure that depends on the locality.  We had two excellent Ploughman’s Lunches and drinks for £15.  I’m never quite sure just how up-to-date the Lonely Planet’s research is. I’ve found before that what they print is no longer the case.   I think that the credit crunch has made cafés and restaurants more aware of the need to offer real value for money. But Saffron Walden itself is worth a visit;  a pleasant little town rich in history.  Yet I’m sure many tourists do not know of its existence and just head for Cambridge.

http://www.picturesofengland.com/England/Essex/Saffron_Walden

This is Daniel Hannan’s post on the DT staff blogs.

The past three days must have been miserable for republicans. They have watched vast crowds cheering the institution they oppose because of an event which, strictly speaking, has nothing whatever to do with the pros and cons of monarchy. Yet to say as much is to invite accusations of scorning young love, mocking your country and despising its people. Continue reading “Thank you, Daniel Hannan”

I discovered yesterday that the King of the Belgians, Albert II, has not only  the problems of a country splitting at the seam and without a government for several months – though looking at some Belgian politicians such as van Rompuy, HM may count this as a blessing – but has also a difficult younger son, Prince Laurent.  According to the article in yesterday’s FAZ this lad has now been forbidden to set foot in his father’s palace. Prince Laurent recently went to the former Belgian Congo, now the DRC, because of his concern for the environment there.  His hotel bill was settled by a Congolese businessman, because apparently not one of the prince’s party had a suitable credit card about his person. This has caused disapproval in Belgium.  The prince had already raised eyebrows when he turned up at the National Day parade last year in a lounge suit instead of his naval uniform. He explained that his old uniform had shrunk in the wash and the replacement wasn’t ready on time. It is apparently true that Prince Laurent has recently put on some weight.  A former tutor has been quoted describing him as not very bright, but he has shown a certain facility for numbers, as when he reportedly offered pictures of his newborn twin sons for sale for 150,000 euros.

I don’t know if the King and Queen of the Belgians are invited to the royal wedding. If they are, they will have at least one subject of conversation with HM and Prince Philip.   I do feel, however, that Laurent makes our Prince Andrew look almost a perfect son.  I hope you like this, Janus and other anti-royalists.  Sorry I can’t put up a link since this article has now disappeared behind the FAZ’s paywall.  But I do feel sorry for Belgium and its monarch.  Not all the chocolate in the world can help.

I’ve just read an article about cosmetic surgery for pets.  Some of it was quite sensible and beneficial, like enlarging the nostrils and reshaping the nasal cavity of dogs such as pugs, to stop them gasping for breath and snoring. Some of it was at the level of nail varnish for dogs’ claws, with a photo of a poor poodle having a lurid pink polish applied – and my dears, it did not match the red collar at all!

The most amazing description was of prosthetic testicles for dogs who have been neutered and are suffering from depression.  Called neuticles and $300 a pair.  I always thought it was the lack of hormones that caused the problems.  Still, if it gives the dogs something to lick.  Needless to say there was no equivalent on offer for spayed bitches.

 

Three members of France’s chess team, including the captain, have been suspended for five years after being caught cheating in the 39th Chess Olympiad in Russia.  The method had been carefully worked out between the three of them.   While player one was actually competing, player two was using a piece of chess software on his computer elsewhere to find out the best possible moves.  He then texted player three, who was in the room where the game was being played.  Various positions had already been agreed between them, so if player three went and stood beside a particular table, that signified a particular square on the board.  Luckily it was the vice-president of the French Chess Federation who read a message on player three’s phone saying “Hurry up with the next move!” and blew the whistle.

I’m not a chess player and it all seems very complicated.  Wouldn’t it have been simpler just to play the game? The whole thing certainly conjures up an amusing picture of a hyperactive Frenchman skipping gaily round the room from one piece of furniture to another.

I came across this article in the German tabloid Bild – yes, I do read some downmarket newspapers, but I was looking for German comment on the Libyan allegations about Sarkozy.  This pigeon-fancier won a competition in Leipzig in December by sticking extra feathers on his bird with the adhesive Uhu. Poor bird! Anyway his crime has just been discovered, but apparently such subterfuges are not unknown in the world of pet shows.

BILD article here

Perhaps Sarkozy could argue that he just borrowed some extra feathers from Gaddafi for the presidential election and will take them off and return them shortly.

whose invitations to THE wedding may,  like mine,  have got lost in the post, I give you this alternative

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1365155/Royal-wedding-How-knit-Kate-Middleton-Prince-William-corgis.html

Admittedly the cost of the wool is a bit steep, but cheaper than having to buy an outfit.  And the main benefit is that this could entertain both monarchists and the antis, who could stick the figures on their dartsboard.

I wouldn’t normally double post, but I thought this might be of interest to those who enjoy a drink.  It was a comment that suggested that only Britain exports alcoholic beverages that reminded me of absinthe, the drink that has only been legalised again in France relatively recently.

There is an absinthe bar in a little cellar in a narrow street in an old town in the south of France.  Each table has a water fountain with four tiny taps. There is a list of different absinthes to choose from. None of them have names like Van Gogh’s Delirium or Verlaine’s Folly, but it was the claim that the essence of wormwood contained in the drink led aficionados to alcoholism and madness that caused it to be banned in France. If you order absinthe, you are provided with sugar lumps and a spoon with holes in it.  Put a sugar cube in the spoon and balance it on the glass with the absinthe, then place the glass under a tap of your water fountain and let the water drip slowly on to the sugar and through the holes  until the mixture is to your taste.  The sugar was originally necessary to counteract the bitterness of the wormwood.

The bar also serves other drinks and has a collection of eccentric hats for those wishing to recreate the “fin de siecle”. It is a delightful place to spend an evening, whether you wish to try absinthe or not.

Link

Having been housebound for the past ten days or so with what might have been swine flu,  I have realised that older films are infinitely better made than the modern ones,  all the special effects and such notwithstanding. I watched one made in the 1950s last week,  set during the Korean War with Robert Mitchum and a very young Robert Wagner.  Very basic sets, but very good camera work.  Then I watched  Breakfast at Tiffany’s, which I already knew, enjoying the fashions, the cat and of course Moon River all over again.  Today’s was A Lonely Place with Humphrey Bogart.  A film noir, with a very good story line and some sharp dialogue and no happy ending.

I did not watch the remake of Brideshead Revisited last night. What’s the point when I remember perfectly the original ITV production?  I have no intention of watching the Coen brothers’ remake of True Grit. Again I just don’t see the point, and I like John Wayne movies.

Is this a sign of old age?  Or perhaps it’s a sign of improving taste and discrimination.

For the second time a local girl – though not what would be described as “francaise de souche” – tried the gold ring con on me this afternoon.  Has anyone else come across this?

You are walking along when you hear a sudden exclamation just behind you and a girl asks if you have dropped this shiny goldie ring.  When you tell her you haven’t,  she explains that she has just found it on the street and since her religion prevents her wearing such jewellery if she is not married, it is fate that intends the ring for you. At this point you are  supposed to grab it eagerly and press some folding money into her hand.

The first time this happened to me was quite close to a local charity shop – the Secours Populaire which seems to specialise in helping distressed Muslims – so I told her to trot along there with it. This she was unwilling to do, and  I left her looking round for another possible victim.

Today the ring was even bigger and shinier. The girl probably didn’t understand the Scottish words I used, (well it was raining and I was carrying a large package) but she caught the tone, and sprinted on to try it on my husband who was ahead of me and even more heavily laden.  He listened very politely and then asked me when I caught up with him, what it was all about. So I explained, by which time the girl had disappeared.

I think if this happens again I shall suggest she use it as a nose-ring, like piggies have.