Dancing fools To Clerkenwell again last night for Istanbul Nights at Darbucka. Where else can I dance like a fool to wild Turkish and Balkan music and still have my hearing the next day? Once again Sebastian & Aysegül welcomed everyone personally, once again Nurtan danced with a fire and spirit unmatched by anyone — except perhaps Handan?
Drinking the French way If you want to drink as we do…
The Week has reprinted this letter to The Independent.
I am French and have been living in England for 15 years, and am greatly enjoying the debate on binge drinking and the licensing laws. It is always very exciting to watch the British people comparing themselves to other countries. And also very endearing because it brings up so many insecurities and vulnerabilities.
First, I wonder if there is not something genetic about the way you drink. We have alcoholics in France. In fact, I remember very well the couple in my family about whom I learned the lovely expression ‘l’ethylisme bourgeois’. Discreet, courteous, addicted yet never excessive. But even when it’s not bourgeois, I don’t remember seeing in France the kind of violent behaviour I have seen here. In this country, it’s almost an allergic reaction to alcohol. I know a very well-behaved man who will utter crazed, aggressive nonsense at the dinner table. Quite freaky.
My second point is about heavy-drinking English girls who want to work hard and play hard. Well, there it is, I think, in a nutshell. The Brits should work less hard. The work ethic in this country is the problem. Protestant work ethic has always been a problem. The longest working week in Europe, the most sick absenteeism and not the best-performing workforce either. There is a lot of guilt around work here, and not enough enjoyment.
If you want to learn to drink as we do, you must work less, you must learn to cook, learn to love to cook and to want to spend six hours in your kitchen, and to receive friends. You must enjoy being lazy and taking a long time for lunch breaks away from your office. You must learn to love discussing flavours, tastes, smells. Then, next time you open a bottle of wine in company, you may sit back on your chair instead of rushing for the next bottle. And without embarrassment, without guilt, you may exhale a great sigh, and sip, and take your time. Just take your time.
Pascale Gillet, London SW2
Dyalog APL version 10.2α has arrived, replacing the preview Conference Edition from the Naples meeting. Can’t wait to get tucked in.
» www.dyalog.com
Once more unto the beach Burns Night and Australia Day coincide again this year. Surely only a barbecue with neat whisky will do for what the Royal Free Hospital calls a Burns Supper?
Was it the Italians who dubbed the Jolly Swagman caught roasting his poached sheep in the bush jumbuck con flagrante?
Yes, the politics of envy. Bring it on, Ken Livingstone, first Mayor of London.
Take me to your lieder A tip of the trilby to Kai Jäger in Nuremberg, who sent me baritone Thomas Quasthoff singing this lovely collection by Schubert, Schumann, Mendelssohn, Wolf, Loewe and Strauss, and so opened this genre up to me at last. Liederprinzip — rocks! Thank you, Kai.
Tough times for elitists Andrew O’Hagan reviews Poems To Last A Lifetime (ed. Daisy Goodwin)
These are tough times for elitists. Display will always win out over privacy, as if seriousness was [sic] boring, as if contemplation was excluding, as if understatement was underhand, and as if difficulty represented a kind of dishonesty. In this climate, the ‘democratisation’ of poetry is just another phoney enterprise, like Open Government, a sop to that element in the national atmosphere which says inclusion is everything. Poetry is often difficult, and its difficulty is part of the richness of what we have; it is a crime to make the unobvious obvious, an act of vandalism to render it trite, like turning Mozart into ringtones while calling attention to its improving qualities. Some people, of course, will call that democracy, but what does it leave you with? An increased audience for Mozart? A bigger sale for new volumes of poetry? No, I'm afraid not. Poetry sales haven't budged in the UK for years, though ‘old favourites’ are taking up more and more space in the bookshops, at the expense of new poets.The London Review of Books 4 Nov 2004
Exit Strategy Word is Washington is drawing on its experience in Afghanistan for a plan to get its troops out of Iraq earlier than anyone expects — invade Iran.
Doonesbury continues its coverage of CIA training course 563P “Interrogation Protocols”
American nationalism, Lieven argues, has taken two antithetical forms: a benign and optimistic civic nationalism, which is normally dominant and whose champions uphold the American Dream, the universally applicable values found in the Declaration of Independence; and a darker nativist tradition, defeatist and suspicious of the world, whose most vociferous proponents are drawn from the ‘embittered heartland’. The former strain of nationalism is common to everyone in the US: Americans from all sorts of racial and religious backgrounds can celebrate freedom and democracy, the constitutional separation of church and state, the guarantee of equal civil rights for all citizens, and the bountiful prosperity of the American Way of Life. This is the ‘American Creed’, as Lieven calls it, and the US as a whole subscribes to it, yet many Americans, particularly in the South, supplement its standard pieties with a self-pitying, defensive white Christian nationalism, oblivious to the contradictions between these two ways of identifying with the US.Colin Kidd, in The London Review of Books 4 Nov 2004, reviewing America Right or Wrong: An anatomy of American nationalism by Anatol Lieven
[…]
The South is now the template for 21st-century America. Stock-car racing, country and western music, an obsession with 'personal weaponry' and an uninhibited style of Protestant religiosity have been exported from it to the rest of the U.S. Blue-collar whites outside the South have adopted the Confederate flag as a badge of working-class alienation from political correctness.
MailTrain again MailTrain has tables with auto-width columns at last. See software downloads. Thanks to Paul Mansour — he pressed me to do this.
Winter wonderland Miki’s new article on ice skating in London. Click on the underlined (Japanese) text to see the pictures.
Lost in Phuket Another child at Phuket Hospital: this girl has amnesia. If you know her please phone +66 (76) 249400 ext. 1336, 1339 or e-mail info@phuket-inter-hospital.co.th
Trouble on the Green Although Cr John Thane’s response on the integrity issue was not wholly satisfactory, I’ve written today about the substance of the issue for tomorrow's meeting of the Environment subcommittee at Camden Town Hall.
Cr Thane wrote on 10 Jan
I have not said to anyone, or even thought, either that the plan has 'no prospects' or that I have no plan to discuss it. Both assertions are outright lies.This is hard to reconcile with his remarks reported verbatim in the Hampstead & Highgate Express on 30 Dec that
We have looked at about 20 schemes, none of which had prospects. This one is much the same. […] It is not intended we discuss it in January.There are slight differences between what the Ham & High reports Cr Thane saying and what he denies saying. But the differences don’t seem to bear the weight of his
outright lies. Seems there’s still ample scope for removing rancour from this debate.
Sent: 17 January 2005 07:35 To: Thane, John Cc: editorial@camdennewjournal.co.uk; editorial@hamhigh.co.uk; support@saveourgreen.co.uk; anna.stewart@camden.gov.uk; sue.vincent@camden.gov.uk; theo.blackwell@camden.gov.uk; margaret.little@camden.gov.uk Subject: RE: Standing buses at South End Green
Dear Cr Thane
In your reply of 10 Jan, you addressed the subject of integrity, but not the substance of the matter. I'm writing now about that.
Is Camden obliged to provide space to stand buses? That seems unlikely.
The operating companies now run more buses. For this they need more fuel, more drivers, more tyres — and either more standing space or other ways to manage drivers' breaks. Other ways include managing bus movements to avoid congestion, or more drivers to keep the buses moving. All this is within the scope of operations and expenses that the companies control.
It is proper for the companies to avoid these costs if they can, and to ask Council for more standing space. It is proper for Council to offer it — IF it can be had without substantial loss of amenity. It is NOT proper for Council to sacrifice private and public amenity to accommodate private companies.
This applies here. You know amenity would be lost, because the Save Our Green (SOG) group — with a substantial residential membership and the support of all the local traders' groups — says so, vigorously. Loss of amenity seems one issue beyond dispute.
You write of 2-3 years spent debating, the "apparent lack of an ideal solution" and it being "time to make a decision". We agree so far.
The SOG group has proposed a scheme, which you reject (H&H 30 Dec) for not having "general support". You know it does not, because it has opponents.
Council's proposal clearly fails this test too. If opposition indicates lack of general support, Council's proposal has even less support than SOG's.
You are close to concluding that if no scheme has general support, Council's proposal must prevail, because the bus companies must be accommodated.
Not so.
If no scheme has general support after 2-3 years diligent search, and if Council has no superior obligations to the operating companies, then its clear duty to electors is to decline the companies' request — and enforce existing agreements.
I shall attend tomorrow's meeting and look forward to hearing this addressed.
Kind regards
Stephen Taylor
Julia's adventure More news from Julia Davies’s travels in Africa. Julia can be reached for the time being at juliasadventure@yahoo.com
23rd November 2004
Quelimane, Mozambique
Dear all
Since I last wrote we have travelled the width of Zambia, half its length, touched Zimbabwe, journeyed through half of Malawi and down across Mozambique to the coast. We have been on the move now for 23 days and in 2 days we set off again for Vilanculos, 1000km south along the coast. Mozambique is ginormous!
There is so much to tell, so many stories… Africa is full of stories; simple things are hilarious or gruelling adventures. I’ll just tell the whole story and if it’s too much for you to read I apologise!
First leg of the trip was Far western Zambia to Lusaka. This began at 6am and finished at 3.30am; first a 4×4 to Mongu on notably the worst road in Zambia, (it has been rebuilt twice and fallen apart twice — it seems to be unbeatable, even though millions have been spent on it — it leaves your internal organs well shaken); then a bus onwards to Lusaka. We were happily surprised by the state of the bus — open windows, clean and empty seats!! (This is a very rare thing here). The roof of the bus was, however, held up with scaffolding posts so it wasn’t that advanced. The journey was going pretty well and we travelled through Kafoe National Park again seeing elephants, hippos, tons of various antelopes, baboons, warthogs… Beautiful. Then, just as dusk was falling, there seemed to be a problem with the bus. We were stopping and starting, braking, jerking and then finally we drew to a halt, in the middle of the National Park in the pitch black night. Men started jumping out of the bus and lighting the bush all around the bus — so there we were on a narrow road, surrounded by fire with the bus leaking something flammable! I wasn’t so worried about that but I couldn’t bear to see people burning the bush. Many African countries have a burning disease — they just set light to huge areas of land. Not a day goes by when you don’t see fires. Just before we left Kalabo someone set light to the bush opposite the house and we spent an afternoon asphyxiated by the smoke. It’s completely nuts. So anyway, in the Park it’s illegal and can cause so much damage so it didn’t take me long to leap off the bus and take on the whole bunch of men burning the place down — they explained that they were afraid to be eaten by lions. I shouted at them to stop and surprisingly they did, but then we stood for some time and listened to the folkloric stories about a man/lions that eat people. I was surprised at how little they knew about lion behaviour, even though they have grown up with them. Anyway the whole journey was a great adventure filled with characters and conversations. All the hotels were booked in Lusaka so we trundled about in a taxi that ripped us off and took us to the worst hotel about as far away from town as he could think of but we were too tired to haggle anymore or try any other hotels. The room was so bad that when you turned on the tap in the bathroom, the water came out of the bottom of the sink onto the floor, or when you flushed the loo, the water came out at the bottom… We were too tired to care but then a very short 3 hours later a chirpy little man knocked very loudly on the door and when Pierre went to open he stood there with a big grin and a bucket, announcing “hot water sir” — very sweet but we wanted to kill him, but remained civil and asked him to come back later — so he did, one hour later!
Off we went on the next part of the journey to Livingstone, the scenery was beautiful, the road good and the surroundings much wealthier (relatively speaking) than anything that we had seen to that point. We arrived at Fawlty Towers, a backpackers lodge which seemed like a haven for European travellers; a swimming pool, restaurant, sofas, cable TV, a kitchen to make cups of tea… Absolute luxury! It was delightful to have some European sanitary standards and service. We had prided ourselves on not needing that, but once we had it — it was fantastic!
1st December 2004
Vilanculos, Mozambique
Pause in my story to fill you in on where I am right now — I am sitting in my bikini under an awning. On my right is a lovely little reed and thatched hut, to my left is a little garden full of tropical plants and blossoms and then down a little hill is the India Ocean, turquoise blue. It’s the perfect ocean for me, like getting into a warm bath. It’s fantastic. It’s also stuffed full of wonderful fish. Last night we ate 4 huge lobsters and bought them for 5 UK pounds! We will try a new fish every night.
The weather is hot, hot, hot with a gorgeous sea breeze. I love the heat and it’s a lot cooler than Quelimane. There it is pretty suffocating heat — you just sit and sweat. Well, actually you do here too but it’s more pleasant…
We are staying in the house of Bill, a friend of Mark and Zina (they are old friends of Pierre). He rents out the main house, which is beautiful, and then there are two huts that are great. One is rented and Mark and Zina take the other one with their 2 year old son, Floyd. Pierre and I have a big tent in the garden under a tree, which is great except for the usual African thing that everyone is up at 4/5am, with the radio on, talking very loudly, banging, cooking, running water and the loudest cockerel on earth who comes to stand near our heads and screeches the morning in. The staff who work here (there seem to be many — about 7!) all seem to meet for breakfast and the workmen next door join in. It’s a noisy affair. So we wake very early and have little privacy — there are people everywhere. The best bit is the shower and loo. They are outside behind waist height reed enclosures (obviously built by a man) without a door on the loo… On one side there are workmen, in the garden there might be the gardener, under the awning is everyone else at the dinner table 2 metres away. It’s an interesting experience but after the first day you get over it and get to like it!
Today Pierre and I are going to learn how to dive. The coral and sea life is some of the best in the world so we are going to check it out. The hour long walk along the beach is gorgeous; palm trees, white sands, shells, cacti, blossoms everywhere. It doesn’t get more tropical-beach than this. We were a bit afraid of sharks because there are many here but only on the other side of the islands — thank goodness for that!
Anyway, back to the story…
Livingstone. We rested, had nice dinners, found a place that served cappuccino (yeah!!!). We were there everyday, we caught up on emails, we swam, we explored and chatted with other friendly travellers. But the three best things were swimming in Devils Pool, white-water rafting and a walking safari.
First, the Devils pool. We wandered around the Victoria Falls. Fantastic views but we were a bit disappointed because out of the 1.7km only about 1/3 of it had water flowing down it, as it is the driest point before the rains. However, we discovered 2 fantastic advantages to this. The first is that when you walk to what would normally be the waters edge at the top of the fall is completely dry and you can walk along the top of the cliff. It’s great. We walked for about 40mins before we reached the water. We then walked in shallow water rapids another 50 meters, very carefully I can tell you! We met some other tourists who told us about the Devils Pool. Right at the edge of the falls is a metre wide rock that forms a deep pool. There were people already in the pool when we arrived otherwise I don’t think I would have had the courage to get in. My brain was sending off warning signals. However once you are in the water you realise how safe it is. Needless to say, this experience is not in any of the tourist information!
4th December
Today we are making some preparations for Saint Nicolaas (otherwise known as Sinterklaas). This is a Dutch tradition that is celebrated on the 5th. We have to give each other surprise presents with little poems and make stuff for each other, so we are being a bit clandestine… Christmas and winter jumpers seem a very long way off. It’s hard to think of the lights on Oxford Street, hot chestnuts and buying presents.
Back to Livingstone… Secondly, the white-water rafting. The rapids under the Victoria Falls are allegedly the best in the world, particularly at this time of year when the water is lower. When the water is high you can only do 9 rapids, however we were able to do 23 over 24km. One of them you cannot do because it has a whirlpool that some people have never come out of — it’s called Commercial Suicide. Many of the rapids have names; Morning Glory, Washing Machine, Star Trek, The 3 Ugly Sisters and the Mother, Stairway to Heaven/Highway to Hell. They are pretty true to their names. They are also graded; 5 is the most difficult you can do on a raft and we did a few of those. We got flung from the raft a couple of times which was great fun — it’s actually very peaceful being flung around by powerful water; there is absolutely nothing you can do as you get sucked down and spat out and jiggled about. I LOVED IT. (An extra bonus about the Zambezi is that the water is warm! Yeah!). My back was very painful afterwards from the paddling but I can honestly say that it was worth it.
The next day we went on a walking safari in a park that contains the only remaining rhinos in Zambia. There are only three and they are under guard in daylight hours. A couple of days before we went there they had disappeared and everyone thought they had been poached at night, however, they turned up again just before we arrived. They had been on walkabout in some local villages and bore the scars of some stone throwing. The advantage of them being guarded is that they are used to having people around and it is possible to get pretty close to them; we got about 20 metres away…! We had to be very careful and it was a bit scary as they are enormous and built like tanks. Standing there it was very clear that one did not want to upset them in any way. (If you’re interested, these are white rhinos — which are in fact grey but have wide lips, which was mistranslated (white/wide) by the South Africans from Dutch-speaking Boers. Fortunately they are less aggressive than the black rhino — which makes visiting a bit easier). We were also very close to baboons, giraffe, hippo (we watched them playing for some time — they were very funny), crocs, zebra, impala, waterbuck, lots of birds… It was great to be on the ground and explore all kinds of food, tracks and droppings — who would have thought that could be sooo interesting, but it was!! The guides knew so much — it was great.
The Livingstonian Museum was a bit pitiful — a few glass cases with bits of poorly photocopied paper, and very difficult to follow because the political explanations were a bit like explanations of rocket science without explaining what a rocket is. We were very amused.
Back we got on the bus after a few restful days in Livingstone and headed for Lusaka. A quick stop overnight in an area called Kabulonga and off again on a long trip west to Chipata before heading over the border into Malawi. We were very impressed with the bus because we had a video! — No sound but my goodness that was amazing. The mountains were beautiful and a torrential tropical rain storm came along the route. (This turned out to be horrible because dried stinky fish called Kapenta were packed on top of my backpack and the water made a nice fish juice that seeped into all my belongings — agh — the smell still follows me although I have washed and scrubbed everything many times. At least it only continues to infect my beautiful new backpack and everything else has been saved! My sense of impeccability is officially offended).
Travel in Africa is always varied and interesting and mostly rather challenging — plenty of stories in every trip. The seats are unbelievably uncomfortable, your knees are crushed into your hips, it is boiling hot, like a dirty sauna, with as many people on the bus as is physically possible — 25 or so people standing for the 10-15 hour trip — plus all their worldly possessions crammed in somewhere and then there is usually very greasy meat, boiled eggs, kapenta, sweat smell and usually a few chickens to finish off the cocktail. We arrive filthy, squashed, exhausted and usually several hours later than promised. You kind of get used to it but my back is very unhappy after a long trip.
So we arrived in Chipata very late. The cab drivers always fight over who gets you and then you have to haggle a reasonable price (when you’re tired and don’t have any energy for it, or have no clue where you are going, so they often win). Usually someone just pulls your bags off you and walks off with them. You are forced to follow and they usually get the trade. This night all the hotels were full, so we spent an hour driving around a potholed and very dark route. We eventually ended up in an interesting ‘hotel’ run by Muslims. It was clean at least, although the décor was highly offensive. We were woken very early (4am) by the cleaning lady making the biggest racket imaginable and the guard watching children’s TV very loudly. We were in fits of laughter because I don’t think they could have made more noise if we paid them! We asked if we could actually use the bathroom ands she instructed us to wait. She then permitted us to use it for a window of about 15 mins before she knocked on the door to ask when we would be finished so that she could continue her project. You always get the feeling that you are disturbing their routine event though we were probably the only guests to pass through for a while…
7th December 2004
We had an interesting night — a tropical storm hit and as Pierre and I are sleeping in a tent (a very nice deluxe one) we were kept awake by thunder, lightning, rain but more than anything else, wind. At 5.30 this morning the tent was leaning at an extremely alarming angle on top of us and we were forced to abandon ship and move everything into the hut at high speed. Everything was soaked so the day so far has been spent drying it all out and cleaning. Fortunately everything dries very quickly!
Back to Chipata… We wandered about to do some errands in the morning. We are always followed and hustled wherever we go. At noon we headed for Malawi. This trip was somewhat eventful as you have to mix and match with several types of transport and there is haggling and ripping off at every turn. So you have to get a cab to the Zambian border, fight your way through the rogue money changers and hustling cabbies to go through customs and again on the other side. Finally installed in another cab we travelled the 15km across nomansland and then go through the whole hassle again. We had agreed a price to the nearest town but at the border the cabbie decided to forget this deal so we had to go through the whole process of renegotiation and finally arrived in Mchinji somewhat annoyed. We very quickly discovered that Malawians are much louder and more aggressive than Zambians. They were all shouting and fighting for our bags to put them on a mini bus to Lilongwe. Surviving these challenges, we climbed into a full minibus with our bags hanging perilously off the back. We were informed that the minibus was in fact not full and he was waiting for another 12 people! The seats were completely cracked and after an hour my bum was burning because I was sitting on the engine! We arrived in one piece and started again on the roundabout of full hotels (or cockroach ridden uninhabitable places). After more ripping-off by cab drivers and being sent from pillar to post we arrived at a rather expensive hotel and as we were exhausted we simply could not be bothered to seek anymore. It was fine although the service was rude and the food appalling. We were also woken early by a phone call from reception demanding that we pay before her shift finished at 7.30am! I told her in no uncertain terms that she would have to wait.
We decided to stay in Lilongwe for a few days to rest so we moved our stuff to a backpacker’s hostel which was really great. We had our own A-frame hut, someone to wash our fish stinking clothes and European standards to ease our travel weary souls.
We spent our time in Lilongwe catching up on emails, getting Mozambican visas, and dealing with business bits and pieces.
I’ll end this here as it is getting a bit too long — getting carried away with my story telling!
All love to you all
Julia xx
13th January 2005
Majete National Park, Malawi
I pick up the news in Lilongwe, Malawi. We had wanted to go on safari in Zambia but due to the events surrounding Pierre’s visa we had to be out of the country by 12th November which did not leave us any time for that. However whilst at Kiboko camp (backpackers lodge in Lilongwe) we discovered that they organised safaris to South Luangwa in Zambia, transport, food, accommodation and a fantastic guide all in. This was great news because it meant that we didn’t have to deal with all the travel hassle to get there. We arrived at our camp (The Croc Farm) in the early evening and sat outside our tent (rather a grand strong canvas tent on a platform with furniture!) and watched all the animals coming to the river in front of us. Right there we saw hippo, crocs, baboons, monkeys, a variety of antelopes and the best of all a family of elephants came to cross the river. That evening we were alerted by a crashing sound in the bushes and found that they had come to visit. They were very close and we had to retreat to safer quarters. It was very exciting. We had to be accompanied by a guide with a big light to the shower block as hippos were also there grazing between the tents and the loos so we had to be careful!
That night we hardly slept at all as there were elephants, hippos, hyena and lion making a lot of noise at pretty close proximity. We set off very early on our first game drive. The safari lasted 3 days and was absolutely fantastic. We saw buffalo, herds of elephants, giraffe, hyena, leopard, porcupines, wild cats (civet and genet), many, many different types of antelope, huge varieties of spectacular birds… The list goes on, however, the highlight of the trip was the lions. We had been searching for 3 days to see the lions and none of the other guides had spotted them. Finally on the last morning I spotted 2 large male lions and I was so excited that I could only grab Pierre’s arm — no sound would come out of my mouth! We followed them a little while and then they turned and came and sat right by the car. They were about 3 metres away from us and they sat there majestically sniffing the air. The largest one looked right at me — my goodness he was beautiful. Of course he looked straight through me but it is a deeply moving experience to look so closely into the eyes of a lion. Their power is unbelievable and there is no questioning who is the king of the jungle. No doubt at all. I loved every minute of the safari — the guide was excellent and we learnt a lot about all the animals.
Off we went back to Lilongwe to finish off our business and head towards Mozambique. First we headed to Blantyre (where we stayed in another Muslim hotel. This time the chef woke us up at 4am and it sounded as if he was rattling the cutlery in a drawer as loudly as he possibly could — it was pretty hilarious). The journey to Blantyre will remain memorable for a long time to come. The Shire busline mainly have really horrible coaches but they have one luxury coachline… And it was! 2 hostesses in very smart uniforms, tea and coffee served, a clean onboard loo, a movie, music, a snack, clean, comfortable seats, room…! It was like dying and going to heaven! The best bits were the speeches that the hostess gave, including memorable lines such as ‘our very good and safe driver’ (in a strong African accent) and ‘we will play you very good music’ (which turned out to be Dolly Parton!
Blantyre is a nice city and we spent a pleasant afternoon wandering around — we even found a gelateria run by an old Italian who makes real Italian cappuccino — yeah!
The next day we took an early bus to the Malawian border. The scenery is absolutely stunning as there are many mountains and Malawi is soooooooooo green and fertile with red, red soil. At the border there is a big range of mountains, the foot hills of which are covered in tea fields. It’s gorgeous. The border is another eventful journey…Firstly we got off the bus to go to the Malawian border post, immediately set upon by about 20 men with bicycles, all fighting over your bags. We had to fight through and deal with customs and then negotiate 4 bicycles to take us across the 5 km to the first town in Mozambique (this is the only transport into Mozambique and we needed a bicycle each and one for each of our backpacks). Off we went — it was a lot of fun and the views were stunning.
We were set upon by money changers en route which you have to use as you cannot get Meticals in Malawi and there are no banks in the first town in Mozambique — so the market is theirs! It was unbelievably hot from the moment we crossed the border and we sat for a while eating fresh mango in the shade in Milange. Our next mission was to find transport out of there, which is challenging as there is no public transport. Much of Mozambican transport is by chappa — a small pickup vehicle. They load up the vehicles as high as you can possibly imagine with goods and luggage and then perch 26 people on top of that… and then there are the ‘roads’ to deal with…
Anyway, after an hour, a chappa to Mocuba turned up and we thought our luck was in — little did we know what was in store. We hung around for a further 2 hours until there were 19 people on the back of the chappa. This seemed a bit steep but off we set and we reckoned we could cope with it like that. To cut a very long story short, a further 2 hours later, the most unbelievable amount of luggage, goods, etc, another 7 people and a lot shouting, frustration and even disbelief on the part of the Mozambicans — then we headed off for Mocuba. Punctuated with a puncture and several stops and much unloading and reloading later the 3 hour journey had become 8 hours and we arrived beyond ourselves in Mocuba. They left us at a pension that looked like a building site but actually turned out to be OK and we collapsed in an extremely hot room into bed.
We were very lucky that the bus station was right outside the pensao and we set off early for the last leg of the journey to Quelimane. This was far more civilised and over in 3 hours. We were struck by the overwhelming heat as we left the pensao and quickly realised that Mozambique is hugely hotter than Malawi or Zambia (which already didn’t seem possible).
Mozambique is a vastly different country to Malawi and Zambia. Firstly the people are so much louder, ruder and have a lot of attitude. 20 years of civil war have made their mark on the people, the land and the buildings. Much is derelict or decaying and you frequently see people with a leg missing from landmines. Nevertheless it is incredibly beautiful and stuffed with banana trees, coconut, mango, corn, cassava, pineapples etc. Nothing is maintained in Mozambique and the villages stink of rotting fruit as you drive through. People don’t seem to clear rubbish much here and they don’t even burn it.
NB Betsy Cockriel knew and fell in love with Nicholas when she was 15 and he was an 18-year old exchange student in Richmond, VA. She's sent us a message.
Trouble on the Green Our local 'village green' seems to be degrading by degrees into a bus depôt. Some correspondence on the subject with Cr John Thane.
From: Stephen Taylor [sjt@5jt.com] Sent: 09 January 2005 12:45 To: john.thane@camden.gov.uk Cc: editorial@camdennewjournal.co.uk; editorial@hamhigh.co.uk; support@saveourgreen.co.uk Subject: Standing buses at South End Green
Dear Cr Thane
I am writing to you about
I share the concern of the Save Our Green residents' and traders' group that the Green is being turned by degrees from a valued village centre into a bus depôt. Standing buses outside shops and homes is a substantial loss of public and private amenity.
The origin of the problem is clear. Transport for London (TfL) is operating more buses, for which I and many others are profoundly glad. More buses need more fuel, more tyres, more staff and more depôt space. Depôt space is a normal running cost, and one for which the operating companies have alternatives available — by managing schedules more closely, for example. The companies hold they can provide a better service than the public utility they replaced, and also return a profit to their shareholders. It is the public position of the companies that they, and not the public, are responsible for meeting these costs. We have an interest in their success, and should accommodate them where we can; but must remember operating costs are for their private account.
Providing space for buses to stand is a severe loss of public and private amenity at South End Green and not a cost for residents and traders to bear. We look to Council to ensure we do not.
Any outcome entails some agreement between Council and the bus operators about how many buses may stand, and where. But no agreement on this is worth having unless it is kept. It is Council's job to police, and if it does not, it abdicates responsibility for the outcome.
The omens are discouraging. I understand the present agreement allows operators to stand three buses in South End Close and one in the slip road from Pond St. This limit is routinely breached in an area well policed by our traffic wardens.
Failure to enforce the present agreement makes the prospect of a new one somewhat surreal, and seriously undermines Council's claim to be responsible for the matter.
I ask your assurances as follows:
I draw your attention to the following history.
I am sure you will be as concerned by this apparent lapse of integrity as I am. Councillors should expect their public assurances to be trusted. A breach of trust by one member hinders the work of the whole Council. Local government is difficult enough without this.
I ask you to correct in Council errors in the above history, or account for the difference between what you promised and what you have done; also to ensure our local papers receive a copy. To this end, I am sending copies of this message to the Ham & High and the Camden New Journal, and writing to your fellow councillors.
My father was a councillor and I know the rôle is difficult and often thankless. If I can be of assistance in resolving this matter, please feel free to call on me. In any case, I look forward to your reply.
Yours sincerely
Stephen Taylor
From: Thane, John Sent: 10 January 2005 15:51 To: 'Stephen Taylor'; Thane, John Cc: editorial@camdennewjournal.co.uk; editorial@hamhigh.co.uk; support@saveourgreen.co.uk Subject: RE: Standing buses at South End Green
There is a lot I could say about your note but it requires some time and thought. However I can reply quickly to your five bullet points on the 'following history' and general question about integrity. One of the more depressing features of the debate, which has now lasted nearly three years is the unnecessary rancour and attribution of dishonourable motives which has been thrown around by many groups and individuals and the number of completely untrue statements which have become 'common knowledge' as a result of a process akin to 'Chinese Whispers.' Several elements of your 'history' are myth.
Thank you for your offer to help — the best immediate help would be to circulate this response.
If your father was Bernard, I remember him well and with affection.
Best Wishes
John Thane
Black Comedy On the way to the NB dinner I stumbled on the original shop used for filming the TV comedy series Black Books. And it’s painted black, and it’s in business as a book shop! I decided to surprise Miki, who is an avid fan, and asked her if she could drop by when it was open to see if a 
Eric Gill’s An Essay on Typography, on display in the window, could be had for under £30. She went yesterday, but the book, a first edition, was ten times my limit. Unlike Bernard Black (series 3, episode 2) the booksellers suggested a reprint and Miki shot off to the nearby British Library bookshop to get it — all without recognising the shop! We’ll have to make a pilgrimage together.
Looking for his family This boy, who is about 2 years old, was found in Khoa Lak without his parents. Nobody knows what country he comes from. If you know him please phone +66 (76) 249400 ext. 1336, 1339 or e-mail info@phuket-inter-hospital.co.th
This story has a happy-ish ending already. The picture appeared in the German press, and the boy was recognised by his uncle in Sweden, who has gone to collect him.
NB Yesterday Leon Schlamm started his survey of Nick Battye’s papers. Met him, Nick Sowicz and nine other friends of NB afterwards for dinner at Denise’s Restaurant. Hats off to Sangeeta Patel, who picked up the whole tab and asked us to give money to charity instead. Kinship already. Go team.
Resolved for 2005 Get a life. Specifically:
And… In Troilus and Cressida Thersites runs around crying War and Lechery!
He doesn’t see much else driving the action around him. 
In 2004 I saw through Thersites’ eyes; this year I am keeping my eyes open for kinship. First up is an opportunity — in case it has eluded you so far — to send help to the survivors of the Sumatran tsunami. Think of them as family, then donate something.
