A Diary

Think of England of most people think of rain. Well, it’s true we did have rain for a few days last week, but that already seems a distant memory as the temperature is here is now higher than in Alexandria in Egypt and the cloudless sky is about as  blue is could possibly get! And of course, we still have a hose pie ban in force as we are officially a drought region! I can almost hear you laughing at my preposterous claims dear reader, but I’ve just been strolling round the park and what a very dry and arid place it has now become!

Look at this for instance. It’s what’s left of the stream which links the two lakes, and the water has all but dried up – the ducks having to walk!

There is however one little pool of water and that is currently occupied by our new ducklings!

According to the notices displayed around and about, the boating lake is due to open in a few weeks time. Not looking too hopeful right now!

There are some positive things happening in the park.  The cafe is nearing completion – these two pictures were taken a few weeks apart.

It's is a similar situation over at the the new kid’s play area. The small photo of the playground was taken last month just before it was torn up, and it’s replacement is growing by the day.

I thought I'd leave you with some flowers before they shrivell up in the heat and die!

I like going by bus!

It beats driving!

A very short story

Written for Sunday Scribblings and Carry On Tuesday

Every afternoon she walks down to the harbour, huddles in the corner of a wooden shelter and looks out to sea watching for the fishing boats to return laden with their glistening and twitching cargo. One by one they cruise towards the quay, and the throbbing of their engines is replaced by shrill shrieking from billowing clouds of ravenous gulls. She counts to herself, whilst praying that one more boat will return than had left that morning. The fishing folk no longer notice her, but she is always there. Always watching and waiting; always certain that today will be the day he'll return.

Every evening after the catch has been landed, the boats moored for the night and the seagulls have finished scavenging for leftovers, she walks to the harbours edge and touches the same rusting bollard she’s touched for thirty two long years. She looks down at the empty space between the bobbing boats, a space that once was his mooring, a space she keeps for him for when he returns. For he will return, she is certain. If not today, tomorrow. For tomorrow is another day, the day he’ll return, she’s sure.

Rosey's special water!

Written for Carry On Tuesday 'Time to Say Goodbye' and Sunday Scribblings 'In the beginning

It was time to say goodbye and not a moment too soon. Uncle Bert was descending the staircase with one hand gripping the banister rail and the other holding on tightly to the top of Auntie Betty’s arm, the wrist of which was encased in a plaster cast and the remainder suspended in a sling. My friend Rosey was a couple of steps below hoping that the hapless pair above didn’t miss a tread and come tumbling down on top of her. There had been enough excitement in the last few hours to last a lifetime – well, for a while anyway; Rosey’s life is usually pretty eventful, and this was just another chapter in her book of adventures!

Auntie Betty and Uncle Bert had decided to visit Eastbourne for a couple of days and lap up some rays in the Suntrap of the South . As you know dear reader, Rosey has a seafront apartment a couple of floors above beach level with a fabulous view of the English Channel (or La Manche as our snail eating cousins a shell’s-throw across the water call it). Betty and Bert saw no need to fork out for bed and breakfast accommodation when their niece had an empty  spare room. No B&B for B&B! So they invited themselves to stay for supper, the night, and for breakfast. It was sort of ‘what goes around comes around’ because Rosey regularly stayed with them as a child. Auntie was fun because she was a little eccentric, and Uncle was jolly and rotund, so she referred to them, behind their backs of course, as Batty Betty and Uncey Chunky!

Anyway, they duly arrived late Saturday afternoon armed with a cake shaped like a cat covered in sticky sweet chocolate icing with staring eyes which followed you around the room as if to say ‘come near me with a knife and you’ll regret it’! Actually it was delicious and they all enjoyed it despite the disapproving looks from Rosey’s feline friends Fuzzybutt and Scruff as it was chopped up and handed round in bits on plates!

As for supper, she’d played safe and got Mike, the chef at The Bike, to knock her up an all-in-one-pot  tofu concoction which required nothing more than an hour in the oven to emerge as something Rosey had seemingly prepared all by herself! And, she got away with it!

I forgot to mention that Batty and Chunky were non-drinkers and they always made Rosey feel really guilty if she ever imbibed in front of them. Having said that, she’d always doubted her Uncle’s apparent support for the Temperance Movement due to his magnificent ruby red nose and matching cheeks, and the ever present whiff of mint about his breath. Consequently she was not looking forward to supper as she would have to forego her customary glug or two of Chardonnay. But ever prepared, Rosey had come up with a cunning plan. She bought three very large bottles of water and two of them she half emptied then topped back up with generous measures of vodka! Invisible booze! She just needed to be very careful when pouring water to make sure she gave herself the alcoholically infused variety, and her guests the water bottled as Mother Nature intended. I know what you are thinking – you recon she got them muddled at the table in true Rosey style, but you’d be wrong. Everything went exactly to plan. But that was just the beginning!

It was about three in the morning, and Uncle Bert couldn’t sleep. He crept out of bed and tip-toed to the kitchen. Apparently it’s what he often did; only at home he would sneak outside to his shed where he kept a bottle or two of whisky.  He’d obviously spotted a bottle in Rosey’s cupboard when she was preparing the feast. Things went well for him until he returned to the cupboard for a third glass and accidentally trod on Fuzzybutt’s tail causing her to object in the loudest possible fashion. Rosey remained sound asleep thanks to her holy water, and didn’t stir, but Auntie Betty woke with a start, only to find her hubby missing. She jumped out of bed and turned on the light thereby giving Bert a warning that he was in danger of being caught out. He downed his whisky in one, pulled open the fridge door and grabbed a bottle of water. This time, whatever you are thinking is probably spot on! He’d got hold of Rosey’s special mixture. That’s when the fun began. He said that he was thirsty and had come to the kitchen for a drink of water. Auntie B said that she’d have some too as she was now wide awake. Fast forward an hour and things were really hotting up! By then Betty had found her way onto the balcony and was singing whilst performing the Can-Can, nightdress in hand, to a couple of startled sea gulls sitting on the railing. This woke up a few of the neighbours who appeared on their balconies to complain. But Betty just kept going – until that is, a Police patrol car ground to a halt on the road down below.

By now Rosey had awoken from her slumbers and was trying to drag her Aunt off the balcony and back inside. Uncle was in fits of laughter. The door intercom rang and Rosey was not surprised to hear the voice of one Police Constable Jenny Prior requesting entry.  A couple of minutes later the WPC was in the apartment. Uncle Bert, through his alcoholic haze, must have let his mind wander back to a stag night he’d been on some time in the past and assumed that Jenny was there to give a performance. He slapped her on the butt and yelled “Off with ‘em then”. She said she’d deal with him later and carried on to the balcony. Betty suddenly stopped as if someone had unplugged her, and instantly sobered up. Unfortunately she tottered backwards and tripped over Scruff landing rather awkwardly on the floor, and in doing so it seems she broke a bone in her wrist. WPC Jenny Prior decided to take Betty to A&E herself rather than call an ambulance, so off she went while Rosey made Uncle Bert a mug of strong coffee and listened to his confession about his secret drinking. Then Rosey confessed about the secret water he’d been knocking back. At first light she called a cab and they went to collect a somewhat chastened Aunty Betty from Eastbourne DGH. Fortunately the Police brought no charges against Burlesque Betty; she just got a warning about keeping the peace in future.

Rosey got great pleasure from telling us this tale in The Bike the other night. For her, it must have been great to be the sensible one in a hilarious situation rather than the other way around!

TO READ MORE OF MY FRIEND ROSEY'S ADVENTURES CLICK HERE!

Peru - My Inca Adventure

I had a dream that one day I would visit Peru, and Matchu Picchu in particular. But I always thought it would be impossible for them to live up to the hype that surrounded them. My dream came true and I was wrong. In fact I’d go as far as to say that was very wrong! Join me on my journey and hopefully I can convey some of the magic I experienced during those two wonderful weeks. I promise not to be too teacher like!

We started our adventure in the ancient capital of Peru, Lima. It was built by the Spanish in the fifteen hundreds, and despite a devastating earthquake in 1746, many of the grand Colonial buildings survived and others rebuilt. You have however to search for them as most of this sprawling desert city on the edge of the Pacific Ocean, is a mass of uninspiring grey buildings. In the centre of the city we spent time in the grand Plaza Mayor,once the venue for bull fights and a market. Now it is a square surrounded by government buildings and the cathedral.

The cathedral was originally constructed in 1624 and  has suffered four major earthquakes and undergone several reconstructions. Although the cathedral appears to be built of stone, much of it is in fact made from bamboo and mud then rendered which allows it a certain amount of flexibility. The palace and government buildings are relatively new dating back to the mid 1900’s.

60% of the vehicles in Lima are Toyota’s earning it the nickname Toyota City!

We however were fittingly based in the upmarket area of Miraflores which I believe means see flowers or smell flowers – something like that! In contrast to the main parts of Lima this area is ultra modern with upmarket shops, smart hotels and hoards of restaurants.

Its other claim to fame is the Love Park - El Parque del Amor! This small area is a mass of flowers surrounded by a Gaudi style low tiled wall featuring romantic words and sentences. At the centre is a massive statue of embracing lovers. Romantic couples leave messages on the bows of the trees. I decided not to!

We flew to the Inca capital of Cusco. To drive would have been a hairy journey taking sixteen hours, but our flight took just one. This beautiful city is considered to be the archaeological capital of the Americas and here we had our first view of the Inca walls that were to feature regularly during the rest of our stay. These walls were constructed in the 1200’s AD from huge granite blocks which perfectly together without the aid of mortar beds like giant pieces of a massive puzzle. When the Spanish arrived some 300 years later they built on top of on these walls when creating their Spanish city. It’s a tribute to the skill of the Inca builders that although the Spanish walls collapsed and needed rebuilding after several earthquakes, their Inca foundations remain undamaged to this day.

Cusco also gave our first experience of thin mountain air. Being situated 3360 metres above sea level we immediately experienced shortage of breath and light headedness. Although the effect lessened after a few days, it stayed with us during the remainder of our trip

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When walking up inclines and steps we needed to pause every now and again to slow our breathing – except one of our group, 77 year old Stan who regularly had to wait for us!

Cusco was to be our base for several days. From its main square the Plaza de Armas, overlooked by its magnificent Catholic cathedral, narrow cobbled streets and alleys lined with artisan shops and stalls rise high above the city.

High in the hills above the city we visited Sacsayhuaman with its stunning Inca walls and disinterested llamas!

We went to the Sacred Valley through which runs the Ufubamba (Sacred) River with its damns and irrigation systems which serve the fertile land along its banks.

Then we had our first serious climb!

The colourful market town Pisac of is overlooked by Inca agricultural terraces. We climbed a few steps at a time huffing and puffing our way to the top. I’m breathing more heavily just thinking about it! But it was worth it as you can see from my pictures.

 

.....but it was great to come down again! 

We travelled by minibus along a poorly maintained winding dirt track to the salt mines. I expected to see people digging salt from the ground but I was wrong! Salt water rushes down the mountainside where it collects in shallow ponds. The water evaporates leaving layers of salt. That’s it! Why they are called mines I know not!

Later that day we visited an Inca agricultural ‘laboratory’; a bowl of terraces where the temperature at the bottom is twelve degrees different from the top terrace. Some of course claim it was created by aliens!

Machu Picchu is an Inca city 2400 metres above sea level and many people reach it by a four day climb along the Inca Trail. But not us! We let the train take the strain! 

We had a fabulous ride alongside the river through a valley to the town of Aguas Calientes which was to be our base, then a bumpy trip up a track in a bus to the magnificent Machu Picchu which is one of the new Seven Wonders of the World. Words are not necessary – the pictures say it all!

Right now I’m feeling a little hungry so maybe it’s time to talk above food and drink!

Peruvian cuisine is simply outstanding. Every menu leaves you spoilt for choice. Okay, so pet lovers may have a bit of difficulty with my first photo which is Peru's national dish, guinea pig, but there is so much more to tempt the taste buds. Llama steaks and alpaca; kingfish and ceviche – raw fish marinated in lime.

Then there is chicken and beef and pasta, and for the less adventurous, the best pizzas I’ve tasted in years!

At weddings, the bride and groom are often given a pair of guinea pigs as a present as they are prolific breeders and a great source of food.

 Meals are usually preceded by a glass of pisco sour, a cocktail concocted from pisco, a local clear spirit, sugar syrup and egg white. It’s shaken not stirred then topped with a few drops of bitters. The local wines are typically South American and the beers excellent – if you like lager! My favourite was Cusquena (there should be a wiggly line above the N but I can’t find it on my keyboard!) It was available in massive one and a half pint bottles for around £2. The most popular drink has to be Coca Tea. This is prepared by simply submerging coca leaves in hot water. In case you are wondering, these are the same leaves that are used in the production of cocaine, although in their raw form they are no more of a stimulant than coffee. Even so I could not have got them through customs even if I'd wanted to! And then there’s Inca Cola, a bright yellow sweet liquid which tastes like bubblegum! 

Inca Cola was invented by a British immigrant to Peru in 1935. It became so popular that Coca Cola bought the right to produce it across South America except for in Peru where they would not let go as they consider the drink to be a source of national pride!  Coke has a small stake there, but it remains well and truly Peruvian in Peru! As far as I’m concerned this strange smelling beverage is it’s less of an Inca Drinka and more an Inca Stinker!

We took a ten hour coach ride to our forth hotel which was in Puno, a lively and colourful town on the shore of Lake Titicaca. Along the way we stopped several times at places of interest including the highest spot of our trip at 4445 metres, La Raya, and at the remains of an Inca Adobe temple.

The following morning we left our hotel in Puna by trishaw, a sort of three wheel cycle on which you sit in a basket at the front like a bag of shopping! 

We were taken to Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world, where we hopped on a little motor boat and glided across the  water to one of sixty four floating reed islands. Everything on them  including houses and boats and the ground you walk on is made from totara reed.

The island we visited was shamelessly commercialised, but who can blame them?

All over Peru we met people trying to sell us something. Our eyes were constantly assaulted by vivid colours splashed across ponchos, svarves and bags and rugs. Take a look at some of the market stalls and the people we encountered.

 

You would be forgiven for thinking that the traditional national costume is just worn for the sake of tourists.  However you'd be be mistaken! In the country districts it is the normal attire,albeit a littkle less fussy, and those who move to the towns continue to don traditional dress.

And then it was time to trawl along the shore of Lake Titicaca and cross the border into Bolivia.

 En route we stopped at the remarkable ancient ruins of Tiahuanaco. It was the site of a technologically advanced and self sustaining civilisation starting in 500 BC which mysteriously vanished 1200AD. They are considered by many ‘romantic’ archaeologists to be the oldest ruins in the world. In fact the city was already in ruins when the Incas first came upon the scene and adopted it. There we saw temples, statues, sun gates and terraced pyramids. For me the most intriguing part was the Sunken Temple, a sort of open courtyard several steps down. Around its walls are 175 carved heads, many of which appear alien. This has led to much speculation by those who believe much of the building in this region was in fact carried out by beings from another world. They back their claims up by pointing out the precise cutting of embellishing details with their precise angles and holes which would be difficult to replicate even with today’s technology. Whatever! The ceremonial complex is by the way, thought to date back to the eighth century BC.

We were to spend a couple of days in the crazy city of La Paz! Whist La Paz is often referred the highest capital in the world this is only half true as Bolivia has two capitals! Sucre is the constitutional capital and La Paz the administrative one! Don’t ask me why! We were all told not to carry cameras, take next to no money, hold hands when walking and huddle together when standing still ( I may be exaggerating slightly) but we managed to avoid being attacked mugged jumped upon whilst there! The weirdest things I saw was people dressed as zebras helping folk to cross the road!  From everywhere in the city you can see the snow capped peak of Mount Ilimanni which towers to 6439 metres above sea level.

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La Paz boasts the world’s highest football stadium and many national teams have tried to have the venue banned as the Bolivians are thought to have an unfair advantage being used to altitude! 

One of the most fascinating areas of La Paz is its famous (or infamous depending on your viewpoint!) Witches Market where you can buy all sorts of weird potions and lotions as well as dried llama foetuses which are said to process peculiar powers.

In La Paz every way is up! The steep and narrow streets are awash with colour from the heaped market stalls selling clothes, and air filled with unusual smells some pleasant some not! Much of the city is modern with hotels soaring high into the sky.

And so for our final visit, the Valley of the Moon, a strange eroded maze of canyons and one of the oddest landscapes I’ve ever seen.

And so, I go back to the start of my piece where I said that this trip exceeded all my expectations. As well as the sights and sounds I experienced, the trip was made all the more more memorable by the superb hosting skills of our constant companion Diana. My fellow travelllers John, Marilyn, Sue, Betsy and Stan, and Jan and Peter were a diverse a bunch of people I could ever wish to meet and great company! I’m sure they join me in saying  - Peregrine Adventures, thanks for the trip of a lifetime!