SINGLE LIFE 2

 12th April 2021

A three-toed sloth.

I have just been listening to the venerable, some might unkindly say senile, Sir David Attenborough wittering on about sloths, both two and three toed varieties. They are probably the most boring and useless creatures ever invented. They live in South and Central America, sleep for the most part of their lives and just hang about, upside down, high up in trees. They are picky eaters of a small selection of leaves and can travel at a max speed 0.15 mph....in emergencies. They come down from their tree once a week to have a crap (very thoughtful of them and much appreciated by ground-based creatures) where they get eaten by jaguars. They can hardly walk at all on the level. They move so slowly that their fur gets covered in green algae. Apparently they can swim, but why they bother was not explained, and get eaten by anacondas when they do so. Up in the trees they get eaten by eagles. They provide easy targets. Zoos tend not to keep sloths because, being hidden and asleep in the foliage 99% of the time, they provide absolutely no interest for visitors. I wondered "what is the point of sloths"? None, as far as I could make out, apart from providing easy take-aways for jaguars, anacondas and eagles.  After living this half-existence in 'lockdown' for so long I know how they feel.

Which brings me on to the subject of the recently appointed Archbishop of York, the Most Reverend and Right Honourable Stephen Cottrell. I have just read a newspaper magazine article on him. 

He, along with other Archbishops, lives in considerable luxury in a palace and is paid a large sum of money. What he actually does to earn it I'm not sure, apart from prancing around his cathedral in a coat of many colours. The CofE hierarchy is not so much a 'calling' as a 'managerial business' nowadays. 

Left: The Archbish. He sports a rather scruffy stubbly beard. Perhaps he is trying to look 'trendy', albeit elaborately costumed in ostentatious robes. According to the article he is very much of the 'woke' lefty-liberal persuasion and probably likes to be called 'Steve' by his friends and flock. He is part of the recent madness of the 'management-shaped' Church of England where, to save money, many parish priests (the foot-soldiers of the Church who do all the real work) have been made redundant. At the same time the hierarchy and middle-management of this Church have been increased with, you know, 'HR', Housing, Finance, Safeguarding, Diversity, Equality, Elf' 'n Safety, and other crucial departments headed by very well remunerated 'managers' (at up to 4 times the salary of a local vicar). He, Steve, is quoted as believing in 'a simpler, humbler structure' while at the same time advertising for a personal Chief-of-Staff on a salary of £90,000 pa.  The advert states: "You will be the Archbishop's chief companion, support and critical friend for developing and refining his vision, aligning his work with the dioceses and central structures of the Church of England, ensuring his time is used effectively and strategically, and making it happen". WTF! This bullshit defies belief. Why can't he do this himself, the lazy git.

He is due to stand in for the Archbishop of Canterbury (ABC) in the near future while the ABC goes on a 3 month 'sabbatical'. Why, and to do what, is unclear; paddling in the sea somewhere, twiddling his thumbs and meditating perhaps? Can you imagine the Chief of the Defence Staff, for example, just deciding to take a 3 month sabbatical? The ABC has only been notable during this mad pandemic period for locking up all the parish churches, not even allowing their vicars to go in, plus the occasional bit of well photographed PR visits to hospitals. So much for taking a positive step to offer support to the humble parishioners. 'Feeble leadership' perhaps describes his contribution.

'Steve' says that while he is standing-in for the ABC nothing will change. Well, whoopee to that. I suspect I'm not alone in thinking that the CofE hierarchy now consists of a cabal of lefty-liberals including the modestly titled 'The Rt Revd Dame Sarah Mullally DBE, Bishop of London' and a black female Bishop of Dover, the Rt Revd Rose Hudson-Wilkin, who is a BLM zealot and who recently condemned the report on racism in Britain because it doesn't accuse us of being sufficiently racist. OK, I'm not an enthusiastic church-goer but with the likes of this lot in charge I'm not likely to become one, and I fear for the future of the CofE. Hence the reference to the harmless, if useless, three-toed sloths which at least don't pretend to be important or cost us a lot of money. If one replaced 'Steve' at York, I don't suppose anything much would change except there would be a refreshing lack of bullshit spouted.

Left: Steve again, hopefully about to have a shave.

Anyway, we have now been subjected to wall-to-wall coverage of the death of Prince Philip. He was indeed a jolly good chap and embodied the type of uncomplaining, straight speaking, hardy and good-humoured characteristics typical of so many of his generation which are sadly lacking in the 'woke', wet, PC tossers mentioned above. The BBC and other media probably did go a bit 'over-the-top' with their coverage, but at least it took blasted Covid off the headlines...for a bit.

At least some pubs and restaurants have semi-opened, but I'm certainly not going to sit outside in arctic conditions and/or the pissing rain for the sake of drinking a pint of beer. Even when we are allowed (everything we want to do nowadays has to be 'allowed') to sit inside, those dreadful face-nappies will be mandatory 'when standing up' but not 'when sitting down'. This fatuous rule was amusingly criticised by someone as like "having a pissing area in a swimming pool". I can see these, often illogical, petty rules and restrictions dragging on indefinitely regardless of whether the whole population has been vaccinated (the so called miracle to get us back to normal) or not. There will always be viruses floating about, as there always have been, and the wimps, and scientists, will now say we have to protect ourselves indefinitely "for our own safety" from everything. We truly live in a totally risk averse, timid and subservient society and will be, remarkably willingly in many cases, nannied unnecessarily forever by this and future governments, fuelled by scare stories on all forms of media (especially the dreaded 'social media' platforms). Our ancestors would have laughed at us.

I have a pretty good idea of what Prince Philip's reaction to all this was, or would be!

That, and all the other bandwagons jumped on so eagerly nowadays such as #Metoo style allegations, victimhood, enforced 'equality', BLM, 'unconscious racial bias training', LGBTQI and associated issues, Greta Thunberg, diversity quotas, de-platforming, hate crime, rejecting our history and pulling down statues etc. etc, let alone x-rated monstrosities like that ghastly Oprah Windbag interview,  would be complete anathema to him. I can imagine his private comments on Ginge & Whinge contained many 'bleeps' for bad language and turned the air a very deep shade of Royal Blue. I expect he felt keen to get out of it all before he was sent doolally. 

I had a rather dull home-bound Easter Weekend and failed to do many of the jobs on my ever-lengthening list of 'things to do'. To amuse myself I tried a do-it-yourself Easter Egg hunt. This was not particularly successful. If you hide the eggs yourself, even being particularly absent minded, it doesn't provide much of a challenge to find them again.

I can't wait to escape.

PS. A plug for one of the best and most amusing books, recently published, which hits lots of nails squarely on the head. 'Stop Bloody Bossing Me About' by Quentin Letts. A must read.

SINGLE LIFE

23rd Mar 2021

Uncle Matt, the Heating Engineer from Boilers-R-Us

.'

Living alone during this balls-aching and seemingly never-ending 'lockdown' (they will always find another scare story to keep us imprisoned) has its advantages. If nothing else, thanks to all hospitality venues and entertainments being closed and with no means of escaping the country, I'm saving money. I will try to think of a few others later on.

We really are living in a totalitarian 1984esque state at present and, seemingly, a large proportion of the public are happy with this. They like the State to protect them from all perceived danger and pooh-pooh any notion that we should be allowed to assess risks and make our own decisions as to how to deal with them. We begrudge such autocratic undemocratic regimes such as the Chinese Communist Party, but have managed to invent one of our own. At least in such places as China there is an upside, in that what the Goverment wants to do gets done...pronto with 'elf 'n safety' taking a back seat. No faffing around. In our version everything is put to committees, 'focus groups', quangos, elf 'n safety zealots and 'experts'. As a result either nothing, useless compromises or, as is the case at the moment, blanket bans 'in the interest of our safety' result. Pah!

Social life has come to an almost complete stand-still. Having said that there are a few brave souls who happily break the totalitarian rules. One such stalwart is an elderly lady, a friend of mine, who lives nearby. She is 94 years old, slightly doddery on her pins but with a razor sharp brain and great sense of humour. She was a wild fashion model in her youth, an 'it' girl in the 1940s/50s, with a very 'adventurous' social life She is entirely un-PC and un-woke with the mischievous mindset of a 25 year old; altogether great company. She decided, at her age, she would rather risk getting this Covid bug than hide away in solitary confinement. So, being a robust rule-breaker myself, we hatched a plan to allow social visits (she has a stock of very good wine and is an excellent cook) without alerting any possible neighbourhood snitchers.

The idea stemmed from when my house electrics recently failed and I had to call an emergency electrician. He, a charming Polish chap, duly arrived, surprisingly promptly and, wearing a face-mask but with no other 'social' restrictions, came in and sorted the problem out. So, of course, technicians are unrestricted in visiting strangers' houses. Hence I suddenly became a 'heating engineer'. I was summoned to the old lady's house which had conveniently developed a mysterious heating problem. My disguise (see top) featured an official looking hi-vis jacket with 'Boilers R-Us...Heating Engineer' clearly marked on the back, plus a telephone number. If anyone chose to call it they would be introducing themself to a dodgy 'massage' parlour in London. I carried a few tools, including a corkscrew and bottle opener. 

The 'heating problem' took rather longer to fix than expected and involved the use of copious quantities of wine followed by supper and much jollity.

I have developed a loathing for face-masks. As well as being uncomfortable and dehumanising they project an unnecessary and ongoing ‘fear factor’ in our community. Maybe that is the unspoken intention. Also, many studies have shown, both before and during this panicdemic, that they are relatively useless in stopping the spread of a virus. I believe one significant study in Denmark confirmed this. Sadly, a majority of our panicking timid population have been convinced/brainwashed that they are effective and necessary and consequently there is no end in sight as to when they will become purely ‘voluntary’ in all locations while a single virus inhabits the planet. Many people will come to regard them as necessary face-wear for ever, and just as normal, and unhygienic, as underwear! 

Some are unbelievably hypocritical, such as the lone person I saw walking across our park wearing a full face-mask and who only removed it when he sat down on a bench to have a cigarette! You couldn't make it up.

I attach below my highly scientific demonstration of the efficacy of face-masks (or face-nappies as I now call them).

Our tennis club asked for volunteers to help sweep and clean the courts. Myself and another enthusiastic (and equally useless) tennis player set to work for most of the day. Apparently it is 'legal' to do work together like this, but illegal to play a game of tennis. The logic defeats me. After several hours of backbreaking work we sat down to have a spot of well deserved, medically essential, refreshment (left). After about 15 minutes a local 'community' police lady came down to the courts. She had received information that there was a social gathering of 'youths' making merry at the courts. A snitcher had obviously been at work. Actually she was quite charming and we were much amused to be accused of being youths. She said that as she was looking for 'rampaging youths' then that obviously (more's the pity) didn't refer to us. After offering her a cup of coffee she wished us well and departed....saying she was off to find those pesky youths. Full marks to her!

I will add to this in due course as I have little else to occupy my time at the moment. The trouble is that there is diddly-squat of interest to report. I am tempted, in my imagination, to go back to the island of Lulok (see May/June 2020).

BACK TO THE BANANAS. ZAMBIA

 8th - 12th Jan 2021

The River Club main building

Before I left the Waterfront Lodge I was introduced to the owner/manager of an extraordinary establishment called The River Club. It is situated on the east bank of the Zambezi about 20 miles west  of Livingstone. It is a 'hotel' in the style of a British Army Officers' Mess from the days of Empire; very lavish and not cheap. It caters for  'well heeled' foreign visitors, not the likes of me with my tent at the Waterfront!

I was given a conducted tour so, short of anything else to write about at the moment, I will show you some of the facilities.

Left: The entrance hall in the main building.

Right: The library. Note the polo sticks on the wall. Polo is actually played in Zambia mostly in Lusaka by the White and Indian communities.

The owner has a military background and is a fount of knowledge on military aspects and history concerning Africa. In 2018 he organised a grand ceremony to commemorate the Imperial German army's surrender to the British in the northern town of Mbala on 24th November 1918. This was after their surrender in Europe. The story of the 1st World War in Africa makes fascinating reading. Look up German General Paul von Lettow-Vorbeck (The Lion of Africa) if you are interested. His grandson attended the ceremony.

Left: A silver bugle which belonged to the King's African Rifles (KAR) which is in the dining room.

Right: The 'Officers' Mess' style dining room

Left: The 'ante-room'. There are hundreds of pictures and framed photographs, mostly concerning historical military scenes and groups.

The were also several photographs of competitive rowing events on the river. The owner had in the past organised a full scale 'boat race' with eights from Oxford and Cambridge Universities.

The main building is surrounded by outlying 'chalets' all named after people who helped shape the country. They come in varying shapes and sizes but all are top-of-the-range luxurious and in immaculate decorative condition. Right: One of the smaller chalets, called Edward after a former Prince Edward...I think.

Left: A bedroom, with a verandah overlooking the river.

It is on two floors. There is a posh loo upstairs and an even posher bathroom downstairs (right). Very elegant I thought.

Left: The outdoor 'infinity' swimming pool. Guests arrive by boat from the far side of the river (which is in Zambia).The spit of land to the left is Zimbabwe.

There are several other buildings including a full sized snooker room. Also a sauna and gym called, in honour of the late Queen Mother, The Gym 'n Tonic.

The snooker room displays many photos of famous celebrities and sportsmen born in Northern Rhodesia and, subsequently, Zambia. Some of whom became well known in UK, including Wilbur Smith (author), Phil Edmunds and Neil Radford (cricket), Bob Hesford and Dafyyd 'Daffy' James (rugby) and Johnny Wilkinson's mother.

Right: There is also a full-size croquet lawn. The hoops and the post are there but for some reason are invisible in my poor photo.

Altogether this is a very smart place suffering, as many other tourist oriented places are at the moment, from a lack of guests.

Left: A rather charming little coffee shop in departures at Lusaka airport.

That concludes my short stay near Livingstone and thence back to the banana farm.

,,,,,where the normal social scene was resumed.

......and I was even persuaded to do some much needed excercise!

As an afterthought from a previous blog from December I attach a video clip of a trip around a part of Stone Town, Zanzibar. I was the pillion passenger on a scooter driven by an amusing Austrian with a Go-Pro camera on the front. It ends going around a wall of the Old Fort. Spot the only person (tourist) wearing a face-nappy!

BOOZE CRUISE AND WILDLIFE. ZAMBIA

 6th -7th Jan 2021

Next on the agenda was a 'Sunset Cruise' around a large island in the middle of the river. There are several, one of which is called Livingstone Island. Forgotten what this one was called but inhabited only by various four-legged creatures which provide the rations for the crocodiles. 

We boarded the good ship Lollipop (left) and set sail at 4.30pm. On the lower deck was a substantial and very well stocked bar.

Right: Our driver, Elstone, provided a running commentary on the wildlife we observed. He is very knowledgeable. He should be, he has been doing this for 12 years.

There were 5 of us on the top deck. Myself plus two other Brits and two Americans based in Zimbabwe where they run some charity or other. There was another small group downstairs.

We were served unlimited quantities of drink from a large selection by an attentive 'steward'. I think I definitely got my money's worth. I made every effort to do so.

There was not that much wildlife to observe. The crocs and hippos kept themselves mostly underwater so no great photos of a croc dragging a squealing antelope into the water, or a hippo out of the water. The hippo (right) was the best I saw. They make snorting rumbling noises and stay semi-submerged for most of the day as their skins are sensitive to the sun. They can stay submerged for about 5 minutes and tend to walk along the river bed. They emerge after dark to graze. They only eat grass. Or is it fish? It must be a boring life being a hippo. The only excitement they get is when they charge and chomp an errant human. So I suppose they look forward to that.

Right: A very poor photo of a very large croc. We all know what they eat...basically anything that wanders too close to the water's edge. They can stay underwater for up to 2 hours. If they eat a large meal they won't need another for two years due to their very slow digestive system.

There were lots of different types of birds such as cormorants, herons, storks and many other exotic river dwelling species. Elstone was expert at naming them all but frankly, I am not an enthusiastic bird watcher. I subscribe to the 'Geordie Book of Bords'. This ornithological masterpiece only recognises three types of 'bord'. 'Spuggies' (little birds), 'Craws' (black ones like crows) and 'Shitehawks' (anything else). 

Above: Weaver bird nests. They construct these intricate little pods hanging from branches. They make many more than they need, so lots of empty ones to confuse predators. 

We passed other 'Evening Cruisers'. This one (right) is owned by one of the local Paramount Chiefs called Chief Mbuti (or similar). These chiefs are important people and mostly incredibly wealthy. This one was thumping out pop music and the passengers were having a bit of a rave.

We were served a delicious buffet meal downstairs, and got back as the sun was setting (see top). Not a bad way to spend the afternoon and evening.

The next day I went on a Game Drive in the local and relatively small game park. The last time I was in this part of the world I went over to Botswana for the day where there is much more game. Not easy now because you need one of those useless, expensive 'Covid Negative' certificates. All the elephants migrate to Botswana at this time of year (the wet season) and there are no lions in this park. It is too small and there would be carnage amongst the other resident creatures.

There were four of us on the drive in a very upmarket open sided vehicle plus our driver/guide Gregory. He was most knowledgeable, as you would expect, and had a great sense of humour. The other three passengers (right, Gregory on the right) were staying at the Royal Livingstone Hotel, so must have been quite well-heeled. They were American/Italians and good company. They were also 'covid' face-mask enthusiasts. They never, for one moment, removed their masks even though we were in the great outdoors. I find it strange that so many people actually want to wear these dreadful things everywhere. They are uncomfortable, dehumanising and, in my opinion, relatively useless (try the vapour test!). It seems, sadly, that many people now consider them a normal form of dress....like underwear! And just as unhygienic if you don't change them regularly.

We saw lots of Impala (left).

Several troops of ghastly Baboons (right).

A few Wildebeest, or is it a Gnu, or a Hartebeest, or a cow? (left).

Right: There were many striped donkeys.

Left: More Impala.

Right: A small herd of the rare 'legless' Buffalo.

Left: A shitehawk (and many other 'bords')

Right: A smallish crocodile asleep down by the river.

We had to get out and walk at one point. This was to see a small herd of 8 Southern White Rhino. They are called 'White' from the Afrikaans word 'weit' which means 'wide' and refers to their wide mouths, as opposed to the Black Rhino which has a narrow mouth. They are an endangered species but with larger herds in South Africa. The Northern White Rhino is now extinct. 

They are protected around the clock in this park by armed guards. Four of whom had to accompany us. We found them (the Rhino I mean) near a mudbath in which the senior male was having a marvellous time sploshing about.

Left: More sodding Impala. They are most certainly not endangered. I don't know much about them except they are good at jumping (to avoid lions).

We were told that there are Giraffe in the park, but we never saw any. Maybe they have also gone to Botswana, or were just keeping their heads down.

I have come to the conclusion that I am useless at photographing wildlife. They keep moving. If you do see a good shot, by the time you get your camera aimed and focused they have buggered off. It is a specialist subject and requires much patience, which I lack.

So that is my nature lesson from Livingstone. Eat yer heart out David Attenborough!

THE FALLS AND ZAMBEZI. ZAMBIA

 5th - 6th Jan 2021

The Eastern, Zambia, end of Victoria Falls

Back to visit Victoria Falls, or 'Mosi-oa-Tunya' (Smoke that Thunders) in the local Nianja lingo. Did you know that there are 72 languages in Zambia? It was an overcast day wth some heavy rain which was a bit of a nuisance, but you are likely to get wet from the spray anyway. The scale of these Falls is immense. They are about a mile and a half long with a drop of 355ft. It is the world's largest curtain waterfall, a series of cataracts. It is difficult, especially with my little camera and limited skills, to get a photo which portrays the true vastness due to the spray and mist kicked up....and the noise is deafening.

Left: Not my photo of course, but this aerial shot shows the Falls and Zambezi water system crashing down and channelled through a zig-zag of five narrow vertically sided gorges before running generally east, via Lake Kariba, to the mouth at the Indian Ocean in Mozambique. It also shows the rail/road bridge running west into Zimbabwe. Downstream in the gorges is where they do lots of 'white-water rafting' and canoeing. I've seen videos of these perilous looking activities and as I don't like submerging myself I have not been tempted to try it!

Left: White-water rafting on the Zambezi. Not my photo and not my idea of fun.

Down here people have gone potty about wearing 'anti-covid' face-masks. I was forcibly told by a security guard to put one on as I went into the park system. There were few tourists around and we were completely out in the open air. What a nonsense. Of course I, and everyone else I saw, took them off when through the gate. It is all due to 'Government Protocol' I was told (they all take them off when in bars and restaurants of course).

As an aside, every little shop, and even the tiny entry lodge here has to have (Government Protocol again)  a portrait of the President, Mr Lungu, on the wall (left). A bit OTT in my opinion.

Throught the gate there are an abundance of little trails leading along the Falls, down past and into the gorges (steep steps) and along to the road/rail bridge. On entry there is yet another statue of Dr Livingstone (right) to greet you. He is portrayed peering across to the western side.

Walking along parallel to the Falls I did my best to get some photos (as I did in 2014). Not easy while trying not to get my little camera wet.

Right: Each 'cataract' has a name. Around the middle is the 'Armchair Fall'.

Left: Walking down to the 'Knife-Edge Bridge'. This 50 metre long narrow bridge crosses the first gorge and is often completely shrouded in spray and mist. On this occasion it was miraculously clear. It is a 300ft drop over the side. I do not have a good head for heights on bridges so tried not to look down.

Right: At the end of the first gorge is the very deep swirling whirlpool called 'Boiling Pot'. It is here that the bodies of any animals (hippos etc), and humans, that carelessly get swept over the Falls tend to end up, normally washed up on the north-east side. 

Below: A quick vid to, hopefully, demonstrate the noise and power of a small part of the Falls.

Left: A elevation diagram of the Falls. Click on to enlarge and maybe read.

Right: Looking back up to the Knife-Edge bridge from the trail to the rail/road bridge. These photos do not adequately show the height and vertiginous nature of the terrain.

Left: The rail/road bridge leading into Zimbabwe. A magnificent piece of British engineering completed in 1905. The steel sections were manufactured in Glasgow and shipped out.

Right: The story of the bridge. You should be able to click on to enlarge and read. It was the dream-child of Cecil Rhodes to connect south and north Rhodesia.

It is from the centre of this bridge that they conduct bungee jumps. Not wishing to brag, I have done a couple of bungee jumps in New Zealand...not so scared of those and quite exhillarating (see NZ blog from 2011). One of the problems here is the cost! Apparently they change about $250 per jump! That is frightening. The photo left shows (just) a punter dangling from the elastic band....boat recovery at the bottom. 

Right: .....and a view down from the jump platform. Other costly entertainments here are the helicopter and micro-lite trips over the Falls and down the gorges. Not so many here now due to lack of (wealthy) tourists, but they make a hell of a racket and rather spoil the natural ambience of the place. An engine failure here would have interesting consequences.

Left: Baboons! These ugly greedy pestilential creatures with fangs live in a large 'troop' in the area around the Falls. They are a menace and will attack anyone carrying what they might consider to be food. The yellow 'Shopright' supermarket bags are a favourite target. I tried to stay well clear of them but they loiter in ambush along the trails. Are they protected? If so they shouldn't be. I held on to my camera carefully.

I think that has just about 'done' Victoria Falls. On to something different tomorrow. Looking forward to a 'sunset cruise'...or 'booze cruise' to be more accurate.