Some brief thoughts and commentaries

The shape of the world, at least the human’s in it, is changing!

I wonder if any of you, my loyal readers have noticed how the world’s people are changing shape.  No I’m not talking about obvious changes like large numbers of the population becoming obese, or as the human race evolves, each subsequent generation becoming taller.  No, maybe more subtle, albeit huge all encompassing changes that I’m sure in time will become as far reaching as the two examples above.

Here are just a few examples of what I mean – maybe we should see how many others we can come up with – post a comment below with your suggestions.

·        Visit a tourist attraction and take a look at the view, then turn around and look at everyone else admiring the view and taking photographs.  How many of them are taking pictures by looking through the camera viewfinder?  I bet not many, as most will be holding their cameras, or in many cases mobile telephones, at arm’s length peering at the small screen on the back as they line up the shot!  This also allows you to take a picture of yourself with the view behind you; I’m tempted to ask if tourism is going backwards and will the sign language for “can you please take a picture and me and my friend with the ‘Eiffel Tower / Arc de Triomphe / Christ the Redeemer / Niagara Falls / etc etc’ coming out of our heads” be lost for ever!!

·         Thinking about mobile phones and whereas initially everyone under a certain age seemed to spend their lives walking around with one hand up by their ear, now that’s all changed.  Perhaps due to health scares about overuse of mobiles and also due to the increase in the use of text messages, these same folk now walk about staring into the phone held in their palm stretched out in front of them, and often quite disconcertingly appear to be talking to themselves into the bargain – so maybe too much phone use does drive you mad! Oh no, on closer inspection they’re stretching one ear out of shape with an earpiece and talking “hands free” as it were!

·        Off on holiday – again look around and see if you can see that rarest of humans – someone who is actually carrying in their hand their suitcase – no more often than not even the smallest briefcase now has a set of wheels and an extending handle, or their luggage is in the form of a backpack with straps over each shoulder.  That said even backpacks are now sometimes fitted with wheels!!  I worry however, and wonder how long it will be before an in depth survey (sponsored no doubt by the luggage industry – oh how cynical I’ve become!) confirms my worries that twisting to pull your luggage along behind you is not good for your posture and new ergonomically designed luggage floods the market!  

·        Dog walkers now have a new must have accessory, a plastic bag strangely often clear, stuffed casually into their pocket with one end quite obviously intentionally on view.  I guess it’s a bit like the youth of today who wear, only just, their jeans so low that it is quite easy to know the make of their underpants as well as the shape of their upper buttocks!

But, back to the dog walkers who would previously stride out occasionally reaching down for a stick or a ball to throw for the dog, saving them having to walk as far!  But now, added to the walk is the ritual pulling out of the plastic bag, inserting one of their hands into the bag, carefully bending down (for the more sensitive amongst them pretending to tie their shoe lace), picking up the business that has just been done and nonchalantly sealing the bag and swinging it in their hand whilst looking around for a red bin in which to deposit it.  There seems to be this strange balance between trying to make out that the bag (remember often see through!) contains the remnants of their picnic or some shopping they have just done and the “look at me aren’t I good” brigade!

·        Couch potatoes have now changed, at least for periods of time, particularly around public holidays and birthdays, as now instead of sitting idly watching they now Wii in front of the sofa, whilst taking up any manner of sport accompanied by a very necessary item of equipment – a can of beer!  Well, standing still playing tennis or golf does work up a thirst.  Mind you when they have improved their fitness levels sufficiently, they can progress onto the dance programme and then they’ll never look back, couch potatoes maybe will then have had their chips!!

As darkness fell the beauty moved outside

Turning to more “poetic” matters, we recently visited the local church for a wonderful Christmas concert, given by a local quartet of very accomplished musicians, all English and one an organ maestro with a string of recording and other credits to his name.  They have made this area their new base, bringing even more culture to an already culture rich Southern Vendée.  The concert included a good selection of Christmas music and a number of audience participation Christmas songs sung with the verses alternating between French and English – entente cordial in the flesh!

The church is long, narrow and high as well as being like many French churches very ornate and full of statues and carvings.  However, unlike many churches it is light and airy inside, partly due to the light coloured stonework and the lack of much heavily ornate dark carved wood, but also due to all the windows except for those behind the altar, being clear glass.

As we entered it was cold outside, but the last vestiges of a bright winter afternoon were beginning to fade, the sun however reflected off the buildings behind and through the magnificent and very vibrantly coloured windows above the apse pouring coloured light down into the assembled crowd.

The music started as the daylight faded and it struck me that now those outside would be able to see the splendour of the stained glass as the lights inside now shone into the night outside – hence the title: As darkness fell the beauty moved outside.

What I noticed and did when I went to Lourdes

Having just been in church I’m sorry if this section appears a little irreverent, so apologies beforehand to the more religious amongst you who might want to skip this section.   But, I’m afraid Lourdes didn’t do it for me and I found much of the experience rather tacky – huge numbers of cheap tourist shops selling cheap overpriced souvenirs, mostly plastic and I’m sure made in Hong Kong or China.  The final straw was the large empty plastic bottles waiting to be filled with “Holy water”, customised to say they were from Lourdes, but barely hiding the fact that they were little more than lemonade or bulk detergent type bottles!  Although, the shrine or grotte itself has remained fairly simple and as such has a certain “air” to it and the more ornate industry that had built up around it had to be admired to some extent for its beauty, I’m sorry it didn’t move me, rather the opposite I came away pleased on one hand to have been and seen, but on the other hand rather depressed and wondering just how many of the thousands and thousands of people who make pilgrimages there come away disappointed after many months of hope and expectation.  There was also something about the thousands of candles burning everywhere and others piled up for sale.  They ranged from simple night lights to enormous six foot plus edifices, with enormous price tags attached, making me feel that the more money you were prepared to spent the greater your chance of redemption or cure.  Maybe, I’m missing something, but to me that doesn’t seem very Christian.  But, each to their own and if religion helps some people so be it, for me I guess it’s a walk in the woods or along a mountain top.

However, one of my lasting impressions was a visit I made to the conveniences bordering the Esplanade des Processions, which could well have been themselves described as grotte, and contained one of the few sharps bins that I have ever seen in a French convenience, giving them something of a seedy feel, although I’m sure they were there not for a surfeit of druggies, but rather for the number of people on sound and legal medication who came hoping to be cured, which actually did little to lift my depression.

I suppose my next thought, as I said somewhat irreverent, is really a case of black humour that I sorely needed to lift the moment.  Standing there giving water rather than taking it away, I found myself wondering how long it would be before my water left again in one of the rather tacky plastic bottles I had seen earlier!  I’m sorry, but you were warned!

Armchair conservation!

This has got to be quite simply the ultimate in armchair conservation, a true story recently reported in the press and not on 01 / 04 / 2012!  A scientist obviously in the know recently visited a restaurant in Vietnam and found in a tank, awaiting the choice of a discerning diner, a previously unknown species of lizard!  Continuing the black humour theme, let’s hope that this wasn’t one of the last pair in existence, its mate having been “chow meined” the night before.  Sorry, it’s obviously one of those days!! 

How these snippets grow!

These snippets and many others, be they thoughts, commentaries, observations call them what you will all germinate with a similar process.  Be it an idea from a magazine, a newspaper cutting, a snippet of conversation, a smell, a view, a likeness, a memory, a taste or even a déjà vue, they’re all like lighting a fire – first the tiny spark deep in the paper and kindling, which in time flares and bursts into flame, hopefully spreading warmth as they go!

Then it’s simply a case of burning to get it written down, or at least a firelighter of a snippet jotted down for later in my little black book!

Hence the above, too little to make into a full blog postings, but hopefully worth a brief mention if only to cross out the growing number of entries in the book, because as you get older it’s hard to keep up with what’s in your little black book!!

American Movie Star

A simple "what if" story, well it happened for Cinderella!!

Not wanting to brag, but there is a good chance that I was once big in the US of A, indeed I’m quite surprised that one of my many readers hasn’t crossed the pond on holiday and returned with a souvenir tee-shirt or video featuring a picture of yours truly, although it might be a rather youthful picture, from a time when I had hair – lots of it!!  So maybe, many of you have walked past whole stalls touting me without recognising me.  In fact, as you read this, it might well cause one of those “that’s who it was” moments, having spent several years racking your brains as to who that handsome young film star that you saw wherever you went was, as you said at the time – “I’m sure I know that person!!” But, what I can’t tell you is what the tee-shirt caption might be or what nom de plume my adoring public christened me, because during the summer of my fame, amazingly I remained anonymous, which may be why your nagging “I know that person” wasn’t solved at the time with large banners saying “Roger Higgs inc. Old York!”.  Read on and I’ll explain all!

Many years ago, during my disreputable past, I spent a lazy summer in York, early in my teaching career, which had I been discovered by Pinewood and identified, rather than become anonymously famous in America, could have ended prematurely, with fame, stardom and fortune and I would never have befriended all my many and varied readers, although interestingly you would all have known me!!  It’s a bit like a riddle!  Alternately, if what I did had become known to the local constabulary, I might have been charged with a public order offence and similarly my teaching career cut short and you my loyal readers wouldn’t have known me, nor I you! Interestingly, I’ve just finished a great book (“Oh my Stars” by Lorna Landvik) in which the main character Violet, towards the end of the book is thinking about her long and productive life and thinks: “It’s not that I’m becoming vainglorious in my dotage; no, the more you live, the more you see that your story is interdependent on the stories of others,” sort of fits rather well!

But back to the summer of about 1980 in York, and my then impending fame!  Having just become jobless, a victim of redeployment, when there were too many teachers to find jobs for and those on temporary contracts might find themselves replaced by someone from another school that needed to shed staff, which is what happened to me, so being out of work and somewhat short of money, some fortune if not fame wouldn’t have gone amiss!  It’s not until you are without a job and income, fortunately an occurrence that only happened for one term in my teaching career, that you realise that very little in the world doesn’t cost something!  It narrowed down in the end to visiting the local County Library and making sure that books were returned on time to avoid a fine and walking, trying to tread lightly to save shoe leather, both of which I spent hours doing.  But it’s the latter that almost started me on the road to stardom and the “Walk of Fame!”

Much of my perambulation was around the streets of York, combining another favourite pastime of people watching, and it was this that led towards my potential public order offence.  One day walking close to York Minster on High Petergate, and heading towards then Young’s Hotel, now Guy Fawkes Inn, I spotted from a distance, an American pointing his video camera at the blue plaque that tells passers by that this is the birth place of the notorious Guy Fawkes, although as with much of history this is up for debate, Wikipedia telling us that he was actually born around the corner in Stonegate!  Arriving at the amateur cinematographer, I casually glanced at said blue plaque and it suddenly struck me, that hundreds of Americans would after the summer be returning home with many hours of home video, which in this the early days of this technology didn’t allow for simple desktop publishing and editing, so what you took is what you got!  Excitingly, said filmmakers would in turn have social evenings and instead of getting out the photo albums, it would be a case of draw the shades, pop the corn and invite around friends and family for a fascinating evening of lengthy blue plaques, information boards, views, old houses and building all complete with commentary, often of things that you could well read for yourself!  Ten minutes of a blue plaque saying Guy Fawkes was born here on 13 April 1570 at the same time as be told on the commentary that this is the blue plaque that is situated on the house where Guy Fawkes was born in 1570, and did I remember to mention that it’s in York, “Old” York not New York, that is in the old country, with a non too quiet partner picked up in the background saying “Ruben, you’ve told them that a hundred times already, honey!”  It was then that I decided something needed to be done to save the poor defenceless family and friends who would probably be too polite to say what they were thinking, if not too busy stifling a yawn to be able to utter – what utter rubbish, I thought the out of focus, sloping pictures from last year were bad enough, but this takes the cookie!

So, the plot was hatched and now every time I spied a rolling camera, it was a case of a subtle enter stage left or right, whichever could be achieved with the minimum of fuss, no leering at the camera, insipid waves with a mouthed “hi mom!” attached, or indeed geeky grins at camera.  No, it was simply a ploy to add a little human interest, nay simply to add any interest and some movement to give the unfortunate friends and family “back ‘ome” at least a chance to stay awake and something to comment on – “Fancy that dude walking in front of that interesting blue plaque, stopped me reading it,” then adding just in time to avoid the host from thinking they weren’t paying attention – “Good job you added the commentary!”

Therefore, over the following fall, as the nights closed in, the leaves started to change colour and fall from the trees and the videos were slid into betomaxes the length and breadth of America, it’s not hard to imagine the scene as the more unfortunate and popular friends and families were invited to numerous holiday video screenings, more and more of these unfortunates would suddenly sit up wide awake and notice someone they recognised, and later began to think they knew, walking across the small screen in front of them.  Then, in time, they would find a renewed interest in trying to spot; now what’s his name, and before you knew it I’d become a household “name” or at least well know by sight.  With one thing leading to another, a name would be plucked out of somewhere – look there’s Charles, William, Edward or some other typically Royal English name, you know that well known philanthropist who’s got nothing better to do all day but wander thoughtfully around! 

The fact that during the summer I managed to visit certain other tourist hotspots and continued my walk on parts wherever I went, meant that I received even greater coverage.  Before you knew it I had become a household name with a whole history built up around me by the simple process of Chinese whispers and the amazing grapevine; better than any mail system at transferring information, trends, topical rhymes, jokes, fashions and star ratings far quicker and more effectively than any other communication methods or media.  One thing then obviously led to another and people had “spot the philanthropist” parties and had tee-shirts printed from their videos, with captions such as “I captured Charles” on the front with a picture of yours truly and either a back view on the back, or comments like “Have You?” or “I’ve phildled with the philanthropist” Quite simply; A star “was born!”

Unfortunately, there wasn’t to be a rags to riches ending to this little “folk tale” as the next teaching appointment came along and took me to deepest Huntingdonshire, on the edge of the Cambridgeshire Fens, where the only Americans were from the local airbase, working in departments with wonderful names like “People Generation Unit” and who were more intent on shooting something other than videos!, so the film career finished almost before it started!  In fact as a young poor teacher, it was some time before I was able to afford to cross the pond, some 20 years to be precise, to visit New York.  Although, I strutted my stuff under the flashing lights of Times Square on Broadway my earlier fame had been extinguished like a candle, and the only flicker left was that of the lights on the giant advertising hording – I was too late to be recognised and to pick up the pieces, although thinking back I did get some funny looks!  Perhaps, these people turned to the person walking with them and said “Gee, I’m sure I know that that person!”  Maybe I should submit this to the “New York Times” and all those people would have their own “Gee, that’s who it is” moments and the whole thing could start all over again and although this piece perhaps should have been called “American Home Movie Star” it might then have to be rechristened “Hollywood here I come!,” after all as those of you who know me well will vouch for, I’ve always had my head in the stars!!!!        

Hands across the sky

This post sort of follows on from the last - read on and you'll see what I mean!!

Hands across the sky

I’m writing this at a time when many parents, the world over, are undergoing similar emotions.  It has taken nearly three weeks, but tonight the signs are right; the waxing moon hangs low in the sky, the nightly stroll with the dog has been in shorts and tee shirt the night so balmy that Africa doesn’t seem so far away and the otherwise clear night sky had one strange dark towering cloud that slowly changed shape from a family of upright meerkats, an elephant with rampant trunk, a panting leopard and the majestic rising tail of a large whale or shark ~ all will be revealed.

It all started quite simply, over a year ago, when the almost inevitable happened and Victoria pragmatically announced that after “A” levels she was going travelling, but had already decided to only go for three months, between exams and university and then travel again before starting “work proper!”  You may have already realised that Victoria is an organised soul, to the point that she already knows who is going to marry her, not in the sense of spending the rest of their lives together, she doesn’t at the moment have that special person in her life, but rather a family friend who she wants to perform the ceremony – the groom will have to come later!

Quite simply Victoria is determined and soon after making this decision, the quest started as to where to go and what to do.  As if by fate shortly afterwards, whilst helping to tidy out some old resources at school, she happened upon a brochure for a company called Teaching and Projects Abroad, who specialise in taking people, of all ages, to many locations the world over to fulfil their dreams (if ever I go missing a good place to start looking for me would be travelling with the Mongolian nomads!!), and quickly she had decided what she was going to do!  The £2,500 price tag was never going to be a problem, because in the best sense Victoria gets what she wants!!  Within twenty-four hours she had emailed several questions to the firm, which reinforced her initial decision, obtained a second job and worked out how she could met the payment deadlines.

Hard work, a small third job and successful applications for a couple of useful grants, one of which involved a couple of lengthy and chatty telephone conversations with a “Lady” of the realm(!), which culminated in the Lady suggesting that if ever Victoria was “up in town” she should call in for chat and Victoria responding that similarly, if the “Lady” were passing Stroud, she should call in for a cuppa(!), resulted in the money quickly being raised.  However, to date the chauffeured limo hasn’t arrived, but maybe on her return, the promised report of her trip might renew the friendship!!

Three weeks in and this was as far as I got (apart from what was to be the last line, but has ended up the next line after this paragraph!), pressure of time or was it emotion (if you haven’t already, you ought to go to that “last” line!), getting the better of me.  But, now a number of years later and numerous other trips under her belt and our own adventure into the unknown – Moving to France! – also several years down the line and this needs completing, not only to get it out of the system, but also to hopefully reassure other parents who might experience a similar occurrence.  If nothing else, as time has gone by, the world is certainly a smaller place, communication is easier, but there remain pitfalls along the way, but like me she needed to “get it out of her system” only it didn’t quite work like that as it simply rekindled “the travel bug!” 

The house certainly seems (seemed) empty, but the world is a fuller place as Victoria has gone out into it; their gain is our loss......

It was hard, and having arrived at Heathrow in good time we were effectively, no in fact ineffectively killing time before the really hard bit of seeing her through the departure gate, the point of no return and the start of her lone adventure.  Suddenly she seemed very young, she had only finished her A levels a couple of days before, and also suddenly grown up and flying the nest, not just down the road to “uni” in Plymouth, but almost to the other side of the world and certainly to the other hemisphere.  It was a mixture of the young and old that took over here, as Victoria suggested that it would be best if she were to go now through the departure gate, thus not putting off that moment any longer, emotions growing and the big leap beckoning!  (Gosh, I think it must have been the emotion getting the better of me, as this is hard to write all these years later and another gap of several weeks has taken place, in which to compose myself!!!)   

Then, suddenly she was gone; hugs and kisses, burning eyes, dry throat, enjoy yourself and have fun, and with a quick backward glance, too long might have tipped the balance and she fled through the departure gate, off to Swaziland to work in an school, via South Africa, (Amazingly, this is still difficult!) her very young looking back and pale blue Karrimor grip disappearing quickly round the corner, almost forgetting to show the customs lady her passport!  Slightly selfishly I had renewed an old friendship, from university days, at least more than the annual Christmas card / Christmas letter, to ask if he could be an emergency contact should Victoria need help from someone with a friendly face and considerably nearer.  It was probably the fact that he has a daughter of a similar age that he came up trumps, not only offering to be a closer contact, but also meeting her in Johannesburg on her return, to put her up for a weekend and look after her extra baggage, while she had some time to do some sight-seeing and was off to Capetown, intent on seeing the penguins, the meeting of the oceans (The South Atlantic one side of the headland and the Indian Ocean on the other), climbing Table Mountain and .... swimming with the great white sharks!!!  Unfortunately, although we didn’t really want to know the day she was doing this, by a process of elimination we did, and she snorkelled in the cage and has the video to prove it - I did say she was determined!!  All this potentially on her own, other than friends she might meet along the way and as well as being determined, she is also one of life’s collector of friends – all over the world she now has friends who she keeps in touch with and have brought about other travels, but those are another story!

It was tempting to wait and wave the aeroplane off, but with so many comings and goings and little chance of her actually seeing us on the observation platform even if we did wave at the right aircraft and needing the comfort of the enclosed space of the car and the distraction of motorway driving to take our mind off the fact that our youngest was rapidly travelling in the opposite direction and was to be away for three long months – hardly a 3 day school trip when the house had seemed quiet then, what would it be like getting home today.  The atmosphere in the car was rather sombre and certainly quieter than on the journey to the airport, as Victoria talks even more when excited or nervous, or in this case both!  Probably, to put off the moment of getting home and passing her empty bedroom, we decided to stop off for lunch at a favourite pub restaurant and being a very warm day, we made the mistake of choosing to eat outside – right under the flight path from Heathrow to the US of A, and it seemed that hardly a mouthful passed without the roar of a large jet high above reminding us of our own precious cargo winging rapidly south.  At least the planes above were not likely to be Victoria’s and were too high if they had been for her to glimpse us and have last minute / too late qualms!! I can’t remember what the meal was like, our minds and thoughts were on other things!

She ended up having a fantastic time and as I said before with modern technology we were able to keep in touch fairly regularly, even from an internet cafe in Spain when we were on holiday some weeks later.  It had been a little while since we had “spoken” to her (Skype wasn’t at this point around, or if it was we hadn’t found it!) and she seemed rather a long way away when we opened the latest email to read “I’m alright, but someone threatened to kill me the other day!”  Putting on a braver face than we really felt and only a little reassured by the tone of the rest of the email, we replied to say, rather flippantly, that we were pleased to hear from her and to hear she hadn’t been shot!  A couple of days later in the next internet cafe the message started “Oh, it wasn’t a gun, it was a machete!!”  I’m not sure if that put our minds at rest much!

On the trip she made lifelong friends, and has since travelled to the USA to visit one of them and has also been back to Swaziland to catch up on a baby that a good friend has had.  The friend is due to marry at some point and Victoria has already had an invite even though the date hasn’t been set, but she’ll be there if she can – come hook or by crook!!  Since her return she has done the Plymouth uni bit, has a degree in Geography (sharing her father’s love of the world, and regularly quoting me about the importance, above everything else of Geography – after all “Geography makes the world go round!), a Master’s in International Relations, the return trip to Swaziland engineered to fit with her dissertation about attitudes to Aids in Africa, with interviews containing some fairly probing questions with government ministers, amongst others, who at best were inclined to be rather blinkered to the issue!  Then, she went to teach in China (six months this time and although it gets easier we were glad that there was a regular boyfriend back at home and she didn’t fall in love with an eligible Chinese man, despite falling in love with the country and people in general! There followed a PGCE, (you can see this has been some time in the writing!) and she’s now teaching Geography in Saltash, loving every minute of it, but determined to continue her journeying – she has a world map covered in black dots showing where she has been, it’s a bit like a heavy mist over the map, with recent trips to America (twice), Switzerland, France, Dubai and Iceland – not bad for one so young, she’s five continents down just Australasia and Antarctica to go, and I’m sure she will!!        

As a family we had family holidays in Europe, touring with a tent or a caravan, regularly visited the Isles of Scilly and travelled widely in the UK, but I think her real mentor and role model, the person responsible for us having a few sleepless nights and heart stopping moments is undoubtedly her secondary school Headteacher – Viv or Guruji (great leader of people, wise one, revered teacher etc. etc.) to some, including myself, who have been privileged to travel with her!  At 13 Victoria (and her Mum) went with Viv on an Indian journey, had her 14^th birthday at the Taj Mahal went a young girl came back a changed thoughtful and determined young women – India has that affect on you.

On her South Africa / Swaziland post “A” level adventure she left a thoughtful and determined young woman and returned a confident seasoned traveller even more determined to travel the world and see its wonders.  It is hard when they first make that decision to travel, at her age I couldn’t have done what she has, although, I’ve come to “gap year” much later in life, moving to live in France!  I’m also aware that in not every instance is there a happy ending and tragedies do happen, and perhaps that is another reason that writing this has taken so long and been so difficult.  Indeed during the intervening years between start and finish of this piece, the friend of one of our very good friend’s son, was tragically killed in a motorbike accident when travelling in the Far East and such stories are truly heart wrenching, but can’t and shouldn’t stop our young people from going far out into the world and making their mark if they so wish.  Hard as it might be, and certainly despite the emotions involved, we should let them go, even encourage them, and give them our blessing particularly as now with Skype you can almost travel with them - occasionally – we were able to “walk” around Victoria’s interesting flat in China, and meet her flat mate, once she’d got properly dressed as it was very warm and the air con wasn’t very efficient!

(Phew made it, despite a few wobbles along the way! But, on re-reading I realise two things; first perhaps I shouldn’t leave it here and second, which in turn addresses the first!, I should perhaps explain the title - Hands across the sky.)

Shortly before Victoria’s departure, as an avid watcher of the moon and loving nothing better than a walk late at night by the light of the full moon, I tuned in to a TV programme about the moon.  A fascinating programme it was and suddenly, despite years of joking with Victoria and our son Daniel about how people “down under” are walking about upside-down, it had never occurred to me that the moon in the southern hemisphere is also “upside-down!,” and it also reminded me that far away as she would be, she would be able to see the same moon at almost the same time as me, the time difference being only an hour.  So then, and now whenever she is away, we “hold hands through the moon!” the only proviso being that if she’s in the southern hemisphere to be sure we’re looking at the same thing, one of us has to view the moon by looking at it between our legs, or if feeling agile, standing on our head!!! 

By one of life’s amazing coincidences, the Irish folk programme I’m listening to as I write this, which will explain any spelling mistakes as you’ve not got my full attention!, has just played a song called “The moon behind the hill” with one line that goes – “No one takes notice of the moon at night” - We beg to differ, and there have been times when our hand holding has been shared with friends on either hand, with pictures (thanks to photo phones) showing the people at the other end that we’re really and truly peering out at the moon between our legs, perhaps I should write a song called “The moon between our legs!” it could become an international song of peace and friendship across the world!  (That’s a better ending!!)

Roger Higgs

finally put to bed in April 2012, just as our next generation of young

people are looking forward to their forthcoming adventures