Remembrance Day in the UK

At 11:00 0n the 11th day of the 11th month - an announcement at the Shopping Mall. An observance. Two minutes of silence. All across the UK, everyone stood still for two minutes to remember those who died in past conflicts. Some bowed their heads, perhaps they knew someone. A few, but not many, kept walking. Maybe apathy, perhaps open defiance. All-in-all, a rather touching moment for me, of course.

Every country has its remembrance days, but for some it perhaps means a bit more. The UK was involved from the beginning of WWI and WWII, in the midst of the European struggles of the times. The older generation experienced first hand the bombings and the shame of losing the initial battles. The U.S. was a late comer to both, at least in the European theater. We Americans honor our war dead on November 11. But we were not invaded. Hawaii was a territory, not a state. Yes, the attack was brutal, but occupation by the Japanese was never really a threat. To be invaded and occupied brings the horrors to a new level. Ask the Poles, the Chechs, and especially the Russians.

Is there more to come or are we ever going to end this slaughter of young men in the defense of our ideologies or bringing down despot leaders? Since WWII, we don't have wars anymore. At least we don't call them that. Korea, Viet Nam, the Balkans, Iraq, Afghanistan. All police actions. War was never formally declared. But soldiers and civilians died nonetheless. And we amass more arms so that some day we have the potential to destroy our entire planet.

As I observed the faces on this day, I had to ask myself - from the perspective of these people, is the glass half-full or half-empty? Not only from a war perspective, but about the quality of life in general. The British as a rule are rather conservative people, and, as a rule, not particularly out-going. Eye contact is rather rare. A few hearty welcomes when one starts a conversation, but in general quite a closed approach to strangers. I must say I'm rather reserved myself, but I do notice less outwardness from the British than from the Americans. Can one then jump to the generalization that these folks may think of the glass as half-empty? Here's what I think:

UK: Half-empty
US: Half-full
Russia: Half-empty
Germany: ??
Greece: Half-empty
Latin countries: Don't think about such things
Africa: Too busy surviving to think about it.
China: Must be half-full, but for how long?
Canada: Half-full (had to get another country on that side of the debate)

Thats my thought for the day.

Edinburgh and the Scottish Highlands

Perhaps as close to the dream destination as I've been for some time. Relaxing, laid back, historical, entertaining. The center of the city is, of course, the Edinburgh Castle, prominent on the hill, visible from nearly all parts of the city. Scottish bagpipers (of all different ranges in talent), shops and markets. It didn't hurt to have some of the best days of weather of the year. Cool (even a bit cold) in the mornings, warm sunshine in the daytime.

The highlands - well, simply awesome. The first snow had come to the peaks, the highest in the British Isles. The geology: Northern Scotland is a part of the North American tectonic plate, separated from the European plate by the string of Lochs (lakes) running southwest to northeast across the center of Scotland. The lake to the northeast is the famous Loch Ness, of monster fame, which empties into the north sea. The other lakes enter the Atlantic ocean on the west. One bridge crossing during our journey took us ACROSS the Atlantic Ocean - proclaimed, rightly so, as the shortest Atlantic crossing on earth.

Highlands

The Village at Loch Ness

Loch Ness

Dublin, Ireland

A four day weekend in the UK. I've had it my mind for several years now to visit Ireland. After three nights of internet research, I settled on a route from London to Holyhead, Wales by train, then a ferry crossing to Dublin.

Due to the holiday weekend and a sailing regatta weekend in Dublin, hotel rooms were at a premium and terribly expensive. I finally found a B&B located a few miles north of the City Center and reserved for two nights through expedia.com. The next morning I had an e-mail from the proprietor saying they had accidentally double-booked the room for Saturday. He gave me the option of canceling or taking Friday night at no charge. I took the Friday night with hopes of locating accommodations for Saturday after I arrived in Dublin. I checked a number of places and found the cheapest room at around $200, which would have come to about $40 per one hour of sleep before I had to catch an early morning ferry     on Sunday. Being a budget traveller, I refuse to be extorted, so I decided to re-book my ferry for Saturday night, causing me to spend about 6 hours in the Holyhead ferry station waiting for the train back to London. I am no stranger to long lay-overs and quite adept at sleeping in an upright position in airports and railway stations all over the world, so the cost trade-off was acceptable.

My thoughts on Dublin (based on a 1-1/2 day walking tour):

1) Bars, bars and bars....and a few catholic churches.

2) Architecture not unique from anywhere else in Europe

3) Guiness Storehouse was a wonderful marketing production. Alfred Guiness signed a NINE-THOUSAND YEAR lease (around 45 pounds a year) when he bought the property. An amazing statistic.

4) Unique to this city from many of the others I've visited - PEOPLE NEED TO PICK UP AFTER THEIR DOGS. The rain turns this waste into a creamy mush on the sidewalks, a hazard that must be carefully stepped over.










Other facts:

The Guiness Book of Records was started in 1951 by Hugh Beaver, then managing director of the Guiness brewery, to enable bartenders in Dublin pubs in settling disputes of the who/what are the biggest, shortest, longest, deepest, fastest, etc of whatever the customers were arguing over.

Dublin is a writer's center, awarded numerous historic awards, and home to James Joyce, an early 20th century master, contemporary of Hemingway, T.S Eliot, and author of the classic novel Ulysses.

Walking tours are extremely challenging. The street names, when they are even seen, change from block to block. As in most European cities, the streets turn and veer off in different directions. I found myself heading south after starting out north more than a few times.

Would I go back?

A day in Dublin is plenty. A tour of the countryside would be worthwhile. Repeated visits not in my future itineraries.

Northern Wales is very scenic. A trip back may be worthwhile.

Fishing in Colorado

My brother has a piece of land near South Fork. Just east of the Wolf Creek ski area, near the banks of the Rio Grande and a short distance from numerous trout streams and mountain lakes. We enjoyed 3 days of summer fly fishing. We met a cousin who was vacationing there from the Baltimore, Maryland area. Other than a few casts a few years earlier, this was my first real introduction to fly fishing. The water was low and fishing was a bit sub-par, but we did have some luck in a few of the lakes. It was very relaxing and does interest me in pursuing the hobby a bit more. It helped that the weather was near-perfect. I don't know how well I would respond in less-than ideal weather. I am a sissy when the weather is cold. Tying those flies to my line is challenging even in the best of weather. My brother was very helpful and very understanding when I broke his rod (fortunately not the good one, which he had the foresight not to place it in my hands).

Meeting With the Queen of England

Well, I didn't exactly 'meet' her and shake her hand, but the experience was interesting anyway, especially for an American who takes somewhat of a cynical view towards the power of royalty.

My Saturday was planned out. I was to take the train from Farnborough to London Waterloo station and walk across the Westminster Bridge to visit Churchill's Bunker. I would then grab a bite to eat and find one of four theatres which I had listed and see a live play.

I walked past the Parliament building and Big Ben and eventually found my bearings. When I found the sign to the war bunkers I noticed a barricade and a bobbie blocking the route. I thought I could go around so I kept walking to see if there was another access. Realizing that walk would lead me back over the River Thames, I turned around. The crowds were getting heavier, and I heard someone say there was to be a parade of some sort. My curiosity drove me thicker into the crowd. I heard a band playing a John Philip Sousa march, then came upon grandstands packed with people, with people off in the distance straining to get a view from the park. There was a band in the British Redcoat uniforms and mounted cavalry wearing high black fuzzy hats. So I put 2 and 2 together and surmised that this was a celebration of the victory in the War over the Falkland Islands, which had an anniversary the previous week and was all over the BBC. The Falkland dispute, twenty years back, was between England and Argentina over some small islands located off the eastern coast of Argentina, home to about a thousand or so British subjects and about 100,000 sheep. Anyway, I digress now....

I couldn't get close enough to see the ceremony, so I walked through the park back towards Trafalgar Square, still inching my way along. In about a half hour I was back in the Theatre district and spotted Her Majesty's Theatre, the venue for "Phantom of the Opera". I slipped inside and bought a ticket for the afternoon performance, then walked a block to St. James' pub and had lunch.

After lunch, I still had a few hours to kill before the matinee, so I thought I'd go see if there was any way I could still see the bunker, that perhaps the festivities were over and things had returned to normal.

Heading back to the mall, I saw that the band performance was over, and people were streaming out of the grandstand area and walking towards Buckingham Palace. What the heck, I've nothing but time to kill, so I joined them. There were more bobbie's, constables, men in tails and top hats than you can shake a stick at, but also normal folk, people wearing jeans and couples with baby strollers.

It was about a mile walk along the plaza to Buckingham Palace. At some point I discovered this event had nothing to do with the Falklands, but that it was in fact the Queen's Birthday. My goodness, that lady has been busy, The Diamond Jubilee had ended just the week prior, and the Queen was busy making appearances all over England to promote this or that charity, accepting flower bouquets and what not from blond little boys in blue school uniforms and little girls in braided pig tails. I digress again....

Everyone was queuing up outside the palace gates, but I found myself getting surprisingly close. I saw a purple banner folded over the second story balcony at the front of Buckingham Palace. Was the Queen actually going to make an appearance there? I started to get my answer when I heard a series of cannon shots that sounded like thunder. There were bobbie's on horses near to me and it was obvious the horses, while reacting, had become used to this and did not stampede into the crowd. Awesome, I thought.

The cannon fire lasted about five minutes. A twenty-one gun salute, I presumed, although I wasn't counting. Then came the sound of trumpets. Something royal was happening. The crowd's excitement grew. I heard a cheer arise from the crowd. They were all staring up at the balcony. I saw the door open leading out to the balcony, and out comes this little lady in a bright yellow dress and yellow hat (how many of these outfits does she have, do you presume). This was Queen Elizabeth II, ruler of the British Empire, sovereign of the British Commonwealth. Prince Philip, still looking dapper at the grand age of 91, was alongside her, dressed in a bright red jacket with medals pinned on his chest, and a blue military hat. They stood at the balcony, and were followed out shortly by Prince Charles and Camilla, then Prince William and Kate (they got the loudest cheers - extremely popular, it seems), then a half dozen more folks I couldn't identify.

QE II with Prince Phillip (not my photo - I didn't have the camera)

After the crowd had settled down, there came the sound of helicopters. Four of them flew in formation over the crowd and over Buckingham Palace. They were followed by a formation of four 60's era propeller planes, the largest in the center, perhaps a B-52 bomber. After that some faster jets, in a formation of four, then the climax - fighter jets emitting red, white and blue exhaust, also flying directly over the crowd and over the queen's balcony.

The queen and the other folks waved a few more times, then retreated back inside the palace. The festivities ended, the crowd dispersed, I was thirsty, so I headed for the nearest pub for another pint of London's finest before moving on to my matinee.

It's been a while. I'm in London now. Well, Farnborough actually. A small suburban community about 30 miles from Central London. I've been on sabbatical from blogging, but starting to get a bit more inspired. Perhaps this will get me going again. I missed the queen's Diamond Jubilee by one weekend (business trip in Kazakhstan), but I managed to get into London the next weekend. Its really a humming place. I'm still getting the feel of the place, went on a book hunting expedition through Soho. Walked through the theatre district. Wow, about 200 plays and musicals to choose from. All the big ones - Les Miserable, Phantom, Lion King. Just name it. A pub on every corner. Yes, I did come back with about 6 books.