Home again, home again jiggedy jig

Well I'm back home after a two week break. Ywo weeks with ups and downs as I guess is the way travelling as a couple. We both survived the trip but I guess that it exposed my doubts about moving in with Marie. She doesn't deal well with conflict and neither do I. There was a moment in front of the Dolmabahce Palace where I would quite happily have given her the guidebook and the card for the hotel and just gone off on my own for the rest of the day. Im also enjoying the rest of the weekend as we got back at a rather respectable 2 p.m. yesterday. Its funny to think that yesterday morning we were travelling through the mist shrouded streets of Istanbul and now Im back to the chaos of the flat.
I guess that compromise is the key to a relationship - and I guess that we had a compromised trip. We both indulged in pursuits that we wouldn't maybe have do - Marie - walking and me shopping. My frustrations are I think in that Im supposed to be the one who organises, Im the one that does the reading, Im the one who does the prep. and Marie simply comes along for the ride. The truth of course is that the joy is in the reading, its in the preparation and finding the places of interest.
Still we both enjoyed the trip. Different aspects of the trip but we DID both enjoy it. I was a think a little disappointed with Istanbul - I think that The first trip in October suited me more - with fewer tourists and a bit less heat it gives you more time and makes you more inclined to stretch yourself. Not that we did stretch ourself - OK well I didnt I think that the spectacle of Marie struggling up the hill to Arbanasi will stay with me for a while. Its a worry because iy wasnt really that much of a climb - Marie whined that I shouldnt always measure things in my terms but the truth is that unless shes ready to offer alternatives And Im being harsh, after her dissertation she was after a holiday while I as usual wanted a bit of an explore. And as I say we managed a bit of both, in fact I think that I probably got the best of the compromise. We did get around, we did see stuff and the holiday was confined to the occaasional sit and read in the shade. We did Ok there as well - a couple of cloudbursts but all in all good weather throughout - lovely while walking in the old town of Plvdiv or Veliko Turnovo not so more in the crowded metropolis of Istanbul!!
Marie has promised to arrange the next trip. Hopefully were looking at Berlin at the end of the summer...

Dadbhai Naoroji 1825-1917

Spotted on my last foray into London on the outside of the Art Nouveau Finsbury Town Hall. I guess it's rather aposite given the events of the last few days.

He was elected as a Liberal MP in 1892 and was the first Indian to sit in the House of Commons. He was a founding memeber of the Indian National Congress and a mentor to Gandhi. He was also paternal uncle of the rather un-Gandhiish J.R.D.Tata.

I wonder what he would amke of the mess that the Mother of Democracies is in at the moment?

I guess that I should come clean and say that I voted Lib Dem in Thursday's election. Yes there are issues that I differ from the manifesto on - I'm less than convinced of the need for big government from Brussels and I'm less than sure that an amnesty for illegal immigrants is the way to go (though I acknowledgement that that is at least an attempt to deal with the continued problems that we have with immigration). I believe that renewing Trident at the very least needs to be at the very least looked at - because it aint an independent deterrant and its not too effective against the enemies that we face. I believe in fairer taxes where those who can afford to pay more to the sociry off've which they make their money should do, I believe that education will shape the future of this country and that that is where we need to invest, I believe in maintaining public services as much as possbible in a harsh economic environment, I beleive in a low carbon economy. But most of all I beleieve in electoral reform. Because this simply isn't working. A party that has 10% of the popular vote should have 10% of the seats in the house. I'm sorry but it IS that simple. We need concensus politics not the monkey house at the zoo that we see week in and week out at PMQs. Yes that will mean seats for UKIP and the BNP but thats democarcy and UKIP and the BNP do reflect some peoples fears. And you cant defeat these dickheads unless you confront them and take them on face to face on open debate. We should be able to votefor what we want rather than a least worst option. We need a UNITED kingdom not a divided one. Back to the matter at hand - we had a hustings at work which I attended which I really enjoyed. The Tory candidate came across as supercilious and the Labour guy as defending the indefensible who the hell can a union guy be a Labour MP when Gordo is every bit as anti-union as the Tories? Tony Juniper, the Green Candidate couldnt make it which was a shame because I would have liked to have heard his ideas. Simon Sedgewick_jell turned up as a bit of a comedy turn but didnt impress...so Lib Lem it was. I had Friday off so that I could stay up to watch and made it til 6.30 when there were less than 100 seats left to declare and by which time it was pretty much decided that it was going to be a hung parliament.... Stick it out Nick a commitment to a commission dont mean dick...

Blitz Street

On my wanderings last week I spotted (well was looking out for thanks to plaquesoflondon.com )n inconspicuous plaque on a pub wall in Nevill Road. An ordinary, terraced street in an unremarkable suburb of London with an unfortunate claim to fame, that being that the first zeppelin bomb to fall on London dropped into the back garden of the Nevill Arms pub on 30th May 1915. The attack killed 7 and injured 35 and with it came a new era in warfare. An era thats certainly left its mark on London, in most cases the marks are all but disappeared, signalled by a gleaming glass and not so gleaming concrete plonked down in the middle of victorian brick. The blitz is being recreated at the moment by Channel 4 subjecting a specially made terrace to ever larger explosions which kind of misses the point of the true horror of the blitz. Not the effect on brick and mortar but on flesh and bone.
Maybe these periodic conflagrations are the equivalent of a bush fire that some trees require to activate these seeds. From Boudicca through Saxon and Viking raids, Peasants Revolts, plague and fire, The Gordon Riots right up to 7/7. Its part of a dynamic city I guess, one that constantly reinvents itself. And thats not even counting on the rather less dramatic predations of the property developers who ensure that history doesn't get in the way of profit.
Theres a quote from Babylon 5 that seems rather apt - "The universe is driven by the complex interweaving of three elements: energy, matter and enlightened self-interest"
Election Day tomorrow. Woo-hoo!!

Abney House

Had a really nice weekend - Saturday work had arranged a charabang to London - I go for free and Marie goes to £6. It would let's face it be rude not to. However, come the day and Marie needs to work on her dissertation, in fact she still needs to work on her dissertation so I troll up and meet Gill the Minion and her better half and espy a couple of familiar faces and get on board. Its a smoothish trip besides our two coaches coming together in East London which resulted in a shattered offside mirror for the other coach. Still we get in to Hanover Square in one piece. Gill and Ian decide on the British Museum while I decide that as the day is nice its a day for blue plaque spotting - or rather just plaque spotting as target number one is in fact not a blue plaque but a black one erected by the London borough of Hackerney. I catch the 73 bus and scant moments later am standing on exotic Stoke Newington Church Street in front of a side entrance to Abney Park

Abney Park was one of the "Magnificent Seven" - a series of cemeteries designed to ease the burden on the cities churchyards after the massive increase in population in the nineteenth century. Along with Highgate, Kensal Green, West Norwood, Nunhead, Brompton and Tower Hamlets they were built in the 1830s and 40s. I have to admit that Ive only been to Kensal Green and Highgate. Abney Park is much more like Highgate. Its a nature sanctuary, its headstones and statuary nestled in bramble and coppice. The Eastern European drunks were perhaps a less picaresque decoration. I didnt have much of a chance to investigate but really liked what I saw, cyclists and joggers (preparing for the next days marathon), dog-walkers all ambling through the little green oasis. It lacks the big names of Highgate and Kensal Green, I guess that the most famous inhabitants are the Salvation Army Booths whose graves I found and who have all apparently been "promoted to Glory". Stoke Newington has a history of religious dissent which is reflected in the cemetery and the monuments to past inhabitants. Just across the road is the blue plaque to Daniel Defoes house. And the history of Abney Park is littered with Quakers and Baptists, Methodists and Congrregationalists. Abney Park was originally designed as a garden cemetery and arboretum inspired by Mount Auburn garden in the then new nation being established across the pond.
I rather liked the look of Stoke Newington Church Street in the sunshine, chatting mums, curry houses, sidewalk cafes and all...
As it was a sunsoaked day I decided to wander back South into the heart of the city keeping my peepers peeled for points of interest. Its a fascinating study watching the changes as you stroll, some changes made by choice, some by circumstance (Myddleton Square was widely remodelled by the Luftwaffe in 1940). And theres certainly plenty to see walking back through Canonbury and Islington, Finsbury and Clerkenwell. As were in the run up to a general election it was also interesting to see the changes of political allegiance. The ex-home of Louis McNiece proudly proclaimed "No Labour Canvassers Allowed and this in the heart of the New Labour experiment, Islington. There were also mementoes of past political movers and shakers again the form of plaquage - both the Headquarters of the African National Congress in Penton Street and one proclaiming that Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov woz ere in leafy Percy Square that was spotted while not particularly enjoying a rather indifferent veggieburger and chips.

41

Well the day is nearly done, I'm sitting and semi-watching Match of the Day 2 in the fading minutes of my 41st birthday. Overall it's been a nice if quiet day with Marie in March. We spent the morning in bed, opening prezzies and cards and getting the odd text before making our way dowstairs were we perused a couple of recipe books on the search for cake makings. Its Suzie's brthday tomorrow so after discussion she'll bring in cakes tomorrow and I'll supply comestibles on Tuesday. After last Bonfire Night's success I wanted to retry Erica's Dark Cocolate and Marmalade cake and also wanted another crack at a carrot cake after a semi-failiure last time out with a double take on the icing. things seemed to go alright although we were stopped outside Tescos after daring to fill our own reuseable bag and then emptying it and refilling it at the self-service checkout. We adjourned round the corner at Smiths Chase for a plateful of loveliness courtesy of Ma Flello as the Arse ruled themselves out of the Premiership title after capitulating at Wigan. I and Pa Flello were both in a mellow mood after good results for our respective Uniteds - Him Manchester, me Cambridge. His result was rather more meaningful Cambridge being becalmed in midtable after a funny old season - Chester being chucked out of the league, the pre-season board room shenanigans, losing our star striker and our captain. Im optimistic if we can keep hold of our young players (and hopefully retain a few of the old lags) that things will improve next season. I'd given up on getting the lovely if expensive Lived in London but the Flello's had pushed the boat out. M got me the Lonely Planet for Bulgaria and hopefully we can make some progress on the trip over the next week.I'm unsure as to whether the monastery at Rila neccessitates a detour or whether we go straight from Sofia to Plovdiv...

Charles Rolls (1877-1910)

The other recent addition to the illustrious lists of blue plaques is Charles Rolls whos blue plaque is in Conduit Street Mayfair. Thats half of Rolls-Royce, and a Cambridge man at that. He studied Mechanical and Applied Science at Trinity. He was the fourth man in England to own a car (how freaky is that - only four cars in the entire country!!) He was a founder member of the Automobile Club of Great Britian and also a founder member of the Royal Aero Club and an avid enthusiast, promoting the new and growing motoring industry. He was the salesman and joined forces with Henry Royce who was born just down the road near Peterborough. Rolls died early at the age of 32 in an air accident. He was in fact the first Briton to be killed, and only the eleventh in the world - possibly not a first he was looking for.

I'm not sure that his daredevil, pioneering spirit would recognise the queues of metal boxes crowding our roads day in day out. Its a far cry from early motoring...

I guess I should say that Im attempting now, at nearly 41 years of age to learn to drive. I'm ploughing through the Theory Test book in an effort to cram some motoring know-how into my cranium. Most of the questions are rather common-sensical and then once that hurdle is jumped then its on to actually do the scary driving thing. M is allowing me behind the wheel of her Clio and I havent killed anyone yet so BONUS!! I have to admit its not a skill that I particularly cherish. The practical aplication of driving will be is that we can if we choose find a house out of Cambridge, which is damnably expensive. It'll also help spread the load of driving so that m doesnt have to do all of it. And yes it'll be nice to get into the car and drive but alternatively itll be less miles cycled which wont do my waistline any favours, I have to say that of late cycling is just a delight, layers are being shed, the fleece tog ratings are falling as the warm weather approaches and there are days when I would happily keep cycling rather than wander into the office round about 9 in the a.
Not I have to say that a Rolls would be much of an option I'm keeping my eyes peeled for a Mk II Jaguar for when we win the lottery -- actually theyre very reasonably priced certainly compared to one of the aforementioned metal boxes. It would be nice to own something with a little personality but at the mo I have to say that car ownership does not appeal - the present idea is for me to be included on Maries insurance policy.

Wing Commander F.F.E. Yeo-Thomas (1902-1964)

A new addition to the legion of blue plaque holders (in fact there have been two in the last month) Wing Commander F.F.E. Yeo-Thomas. As I type I'm watching a documentary about orphan survivors of the holocaust. As far as I'm concerned anyone who fought in the conflict against the Nazis deserves recognition. It's amazing to think of the "last good war" in a world where the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan are viewed with a jaundiced eye by those who see the Halliburton contracts and where that money is ending up. Thats not to diminish the heroism of those engaged in those conflicts of course but such stories from the wars of the last century are commonplace.

Wing Commander Forest Frederick Edward Yeo-Thomas was educated in France after his family moved when he was a child, he fought with the Poles against the Russians in the First World War, was captured by the Russians and escaped execution only by strangling a guard. Between the wars he worked in a Paris Fashion House fleeing to Britain wheew he worked in intellegence for a while before joining the SOE, the Special Operations Executive who supported and coordinated resistance efforts against the occupying Nazi forces. Yeo-Thomas parachuted into occupied France three times, twice in 1943 where he aided the orgainisation and supply to arms and equipment to the resistance and then again in 1944. He was captured at Passy Metro station after being betrayed and was taken to the Gestapo Headquarters in Paris where he was tortured, including being water-boarded (which as we all know is not torture at all, just a excuse for a quick wash for the prisoner or am I perhaps being a tad cynical here?) He was transported to Buchenwald concentration camp where he met the officer in charge of 168 allied prisoners being held at the notorious concentration camp. He escaped and reached American lines. I would say that that was where his war ended but he also was a prosecution and a defence witness during the Dachau War Crimes Trial. He died in 1964 after returning to civilian life, working for a French fashion house. A truly astonishing life and one that deserves to be celebrated. The irony of a secret agent being celebrated in such a public manner is not entirely lost here I have to say.