Brexpat

Brexpat

Abraham Lincoln said “ You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time but you can't please all of the people all of the time” - true - but the British government, with considerable help from the opposition parties, have found a way to displease all of the people all at the same time! To explain all the twists and turns that have led to the current state of affairs concerning Britain and the European Union would take up more space than I allow for these columns. So I will restrict myself to my own situation, a British citizen living in the European Union. A situation which, like the whole Brexit story, is about as clear as a pint of Guiness!

Early in the negotiations is was agreed that the status of Brits living in the EU and EU citizens living in Britain would be protected however if there is no deal will this agreement still be valid? Nobody seems to know. As a result I have been studying my options which, depending on the outcome, could mean doing absolutely nothing or a change of nationality.

I find myself reluctant to take this last step but I'm not at all sure why. I mean, it's not as if signing a piece of paper would make me Dutch overnight. I wouldn't suddenly start liking salty liquorice or smartlap (Dutch tear-jerk) music. I wouldn't start eating chocolate sprinkles for breakfast, talk loudly in public places or paint my face orange on April 27^th! I would become a Dutch citizen, not Dutch. Nor would losing my British Passport remove my last remaining traces of Britishness: eating toast with Marmite, listening to BBC Radio, a reluctance to show feelings or 'make a fuss' and (so I'm told) my typical British humour. Anyway, one of the options open to me, curiously called 'The Option', would enable me to become a Dutch national and retain my British passport. Now I rather like the idea of having a dual nationality, mildly exotic and more interesting than having just one, more a reason for taking the 'option' than resisting it!

It's true that despite having family and long standing friends in both countries I don't feel any deep emotional attachment to either The Netherlands or The United Kingdom as nations. It is also true that while other people are desperately searching for their roots I am quite happy with a vague and unconfirmed family history. Every person, however integrated, who lives somewhere other than their country of origin feels a bit of an outsider and most, and this certainly applies to me, would feel at least as much an outsider if, or when, they went back. Anyway for an artist (for want of a better word) and writer being 'a bit of an outsider' is more or less of part of the job and it seriously doesn't bother me. So, if it doesn't bother me either way, why would I hesitate to take on Dutch, or any other, citizenship for practical reasons?

Could wanderlust be the problem.

The Netherlands despite it's faults must be one of the easiest countries to live in but somewhere at the back of my mind I have a small but deep seated desire to move on, to experience new and more challenging places. But no, a feeling of transience caused by a repressed wanderlust, that's not it either. In reality I'm not going to suddenly pack up and leave. Age and finances would make a permanent move highly unlikely if not impossible! I'm here to stay, my trips to other countries just get a bit longer!

So what's the problem then?

Well-  the situation I'm faced with has been caused by, among other things :

a failed political gamble,

misinformed and misguided patriots, chauvenists, xenophobes and people with genuine grievances but the wrong target,

an ineffective and complacent campaign to remain in the EU

and a parliament full of politicians who were too scared or unwilling to point out that the referendum was not binding and that, although a significant number of the population (about 35% of the total electorate) were, rightly or wrongly, far from happy with the EU, the result did not give the government a mandate to make huge and far reaching constitutional changes and it certainly didn't give parliament the right to get the country into such a mess!

No, it's not the choices that I may have to make that are bothering me, it's the fact that, through no fault of my own, I may be forced to make them.

Oh, and by the way, I wasn't even allowed to vote!

Back On The Road Again

Back on the Road Again

While this autumn various friends drove around Greece, cooked in the south of France, cruised on the Rhine or hiked in Holland, I booked an all-inclusive-total-hip-replacement- tour just a short drive away from where I live. This two day package included food, accommodation AND a brand new, shiny hip prosthesis. Alcoholic drinks were not included but there were more drugs than you could wish for but maybe not the drugs that you would wish for!

We arrived early on a cold, dark, rainy, windy morning, the hospital was barely awake. I checked in at the reception and was shown to my room. In no time I was clothed in a ritual costume consisting of a back to front jacket and a pair of, what I can only call, lace panties! This was the point when Yvonne thought that it was time for her to leave!

Before long I was wheeled off in the direction of the operating room, stopping on the way to get some wires and stuff attached and have a large, over-sized hair- net added to my costume so that I now looked really cool!? In the OR a group of people wearing blue burka-like robes were  clustered around their bearded leader, for a moment I thought I'd crashed a 'Where Smurfs meet Islam' theme party. It all looked friendly and innocent enough but, as we all know, looks can be deceptive. After a short jovial chat with Ayatollah Smurf and half way through an amusing exchange in English with Expat Smurf everything went black.

I awoke,feeling every bit like I'd just been on the mother-of-all stag nights, in a different and unknown place, in pain, sliced, bruised, battered, disorientated, dehydrated, nauseous and having no recollection of what had happened the last few hours or how I got there.

I won't go on to tell you what indignities and unpleasantness followed. I will only say that a free ice lolly in the recovery area and an evening stroll down the corridor with a student nurse were not adequate compensation!

Ah well, that was just over a week ago, I was discharged early the next day, I feel fine, and to be honest I have only praise and appreciation for the hospital staff. Even though it was more or less a conveyor belt system, with up to 40 operations on some days, despite the ever changing stream of patients in various stages of preparation or recovery, they managed to be efficient, helpful, polite, friendly and all done with a personal touch. 

In little more than a week my recovery is at least on schedule maybe even better but there is still a way to go. I can walk around quite easily, although I have to use crutches, and any pains or discomforts are bearable. However at this relatively early stage of the  six week process daily life is a jumble of contradictions. I have plenty of time but can't really use it. 

I am not sick but there are a whole lot of things I can't do or places I can't go. I am restless but my movements are slow and deliberate. I'm really grateful for my partner's help but wish she didn't have to give it.

I am, surprisingly, patient with the step by step rehabilitation but I'm longing for it to be over and done with.

In the cellar below our apartment building there are three bicycles, a racing bike, a mountain bike and an antique cyclo-cross model all cleaned, oiled-up and ready to go but it'll be another five weeks before I'll be allowed to go out and play. There will still be some people out there asking themselves what this old guy with two hip replacements is going on about? He should be pottering around in a garden shed not racing around the countryside on bikes! Others know better. I´m just not ready for a gentle bike ride, a leisurely walk in the park or a cruise on the Rhine. I am still seeking new and different physical challenges. Okay, the bar is set somewhat lower, the aims more modest and to be honest some things that used to come easily even up until a few years ago have become a bit of a challenge.

 However,it's not all about performance. I enjoy searching for and discovering new trails and tracks.....

…...but the truth is that I'll just be glad to be back on the road again ….even if it's only because the beer taste better after a strenuous bike ride

The Great Cream Tea Controversy

The Great Cream Tea Controversy

Despite providing a seemingly never ending stream of internationally famous TV cooks, rightly or wrongly, food is not the first thing that comes to mind when thinking about Britain. If pushed most foreigners firstly mention fish & chips then maybe roast beef. Some, after some thought, may add “....and cream teas”.

A week or so ago three of us were trudging across the wide sandy beach to St. Michaels Mount in Cornwall. Instead of taking the stairs leading up to the monastry we headed straight for the refreshments. Although I don't have much of a sweet tooth I decided to do the tourist thing and go for a traditional cream tea. I should have known better!

Cream teas consist of scones (small cup-cake/muffin sized breads), clotted-cream (indirectly heated and slowly cooled cream from fresh full-cream cows milk) and strawberry jam

Although you can find cream teas all over the British Isles they are generally associated with the counties of Devon and Cornwall in the south-western tip of the British Isles.

But beware, the humble cream tea although disguised as a pleasant afternoon snack is the cause of many heated discussions and bitter arguments all of which pretty much start the same way. “How do YOU pronounce scone”? Do you rhyme scone with stone, cone or telephone or with gone? This debate has been going on for what seems like forever and will continue despite a recent survey, yes there was a serious survey on the subject, indicating that 51% of the respondents preferred the 'gone' variation.

However this is just the prelude. It's when it comes to how the scones should be consumed that things get really sticky! Should the jam be put on first and then the cream (The Cornish Method) or the cream first and the jam on top (The Devon Method)? At this point lines are drawn, positions are taken and vigorously defended. Even mentioning the wrong method in the wrong county will cause voices to be raised in anger and disbelief! If you actually topped your scones incorrectly I think there would be street riots, deportations and/or lynchings.

I've heard these discussions frequently, in fact, every time I've made the mistake of ordering a cream tea. This time I decided to risk my nephew's disapproving comments, the angry stares of strangers and the chance of being burnt as a witch. I thought I'd do my own little bit of research!

Aim: To find out what all the fuss is about.

Method: I took my two scones and sliced them horizontally, forming four discs, this is acceptable in Devon and Cornwall. I then proceeded to spread the cream on the top and bottom slice of scone 1 before adding a layer of jam. The remaining two discs I firstly spread with jam and then attempted to spread a layer of cream on top,.

Result: They both tasted pretty much the same. Scone 1 looked quite attractive, scone 2 was a mess.

Discussion: THe portion of clotted-cream came in a tub, had the consistency of butter and I was issued with a knife. Any outsider would, I think, spread the butter-like substance first. However sometimes the cream is served in a dish which comes with a spoon, in which case spreading the jam first and then topping it with a spoonful of cream would seem the obvious thing to do. Historically, in Devon clotted-cream was actually used as a substitute for butter which may well may go some way to explaining the regional differences. 

It does not, however, explain why people take it all so seriously!

I can only speculate that this due to: 

a) an increased desire for a regional identity in the face of increasing globalisation,

b) the human (and media) tendency to divide people into two opposing groups or

c) a clever marketing plan by the combined Cornish and Devon tourist boards......

whatever....

Conclusion: My advice when visiting Devon or Cornwall: 

do what one of my companions did that day: ORDER THE CHOCOLATE CAKE !

Hip Op

Hip Op

“So you want an hip operation”? Said the orthopaedic surgeon.

“No, not really” I said “but I don't think I can avoid it” !

He smiled absently, he was already scribbling down an estimate of my hip prosthesis dimensions..

Yes, I´m back on the medical merry-go-round..

The next step was the 'Preparation Pathway' : during one hospital visit a blood sample is taken, a cardiograph is made, you meet, in strict order, the chemist, the anaesthetist, the specialist nurse and the OR planner. At each stage you are expected to shake hands and reveal your date of birth before being shunted down the corridor to the next stop.

Some of you may know that three years ago I had a hip replacement operation. It was clear then that another would, at some time, have to follow..... but don´t worry I´m not going to bore you with my medical details or the upcoming operation.

All too often when people of my age get together the conversation turns to physical defects, illness or medication so I know how tedious it can be. Now, don´t get me wrong,  it's normal that we talk about our ailments or afflictions , after all at our ages we´ve all got some, but like tales concerning grandchildren and kitchen conversions, it can go on for far too long. And it often does. At some point during a social function I will snap back from a daydream to find that we are no longer discussing the medical dossiers of our circle of close friends or family but that we've moved on to the brother of a distant neighbour´s far relative...........

If the conversation involves operations an element of competition creeps in. Usually starting with “....but in my case.....” one of the company will go on to tell how their condition was rare, different and/or particularly complicated. Inevitably the next speaker will top that “...but in MY case.....” their condition was at least as rare, probably more complicated and involved a lot more drama. The next person may well add a late night ambulance dash and a near death experience. And so it goes on. The amount of pride some people have in their unusual or complicated surgery has always puzzled me. Now, I don´t know about you, but I want my operation to be as dull, ordinary and as free from drama as possible!

Oh and there are plenty of anecdotes. If you happen to mention that you are on the waiting list for an operation they  will come, thick and fast. They fall into two categories: firstly the horror stories: `I knew somebody who had that operation and he died two weeks later´ or, secondly, the wonder cures,  `You don´t want to bother with surgery I know somebody who knows somebody who was cured just by applying Mongolian cream cheese to the affected area and a change of diet'.

For the last three years despite some pain and discomfort and with the help of physiotherapy and medication I´ve pretty much been able to do everything I wanted to. However, earlier this year I noticed that people half as fit as I am were walking twice as fast as me. The time had come!  Any doubts were removed during a very enjoyable but often painful summer.

Some friends and acquaintances will be thinking ´...and about time too`!

During the last three years there was no shortage of well meaning but totally unasked for advice. The majority, excluding the professionals, thought that I should have the second hip replacement sooner rather that later. People who are afraid of spiders, mice, dentists, heights and so on seemed to think that having a bit of ones leg sawn off and replaced by a piece of metal was no big deal. No worse than, say, a visit to the hairdressers but with a bit more recovery time. They almost always backed their argument up by stating that EVERYBODY they had ever met who'd had an hip replacement wished they´d had it done earlier. That may well be true, but, if you really think about it,  this statement does mean that, although they may all have wished they'd had it done earlier, NONE of them actually did!  

See also: 

https://onlyalso.blogspot.com/2016/01/thesesticks-are-made-for-walking.html

From A to Zoo

This summer I took a lap top with me - fully intending to write a column or blog 'on the road'.... somehow it never happend but I did post regularly on Facebook....  this is an adapted and edited collection of those posts in travel blog form.

There is a steady stream of migrant and seasonal workers from Eastern Europe looking for work here in the west.
We decided it was time to reverse the trend - we took off in the opposite direction to work part-time on a campsite in Romania. Passing through Slovakia on the way and Ukraine on the way back.

Entering the Czech Republic was not a great moment - but the next day the sun did shine - and anyway we were only passing!

For the five days in Slovakia, due to the weather forecasts,  we booked an airbnb instead of camping. That  turned out to be a wise decision however the very worst weather, and there was a lot of it about, missed us.  Mostly we ignored the forecasts and pretty much go away with it, cycling in the foothills of the Tatra Mountains.
We had an apartment with a large covered patio complete with a table tennis and billiard table, so there was plenty to do during the frequent, and sometimes heavy, showers. The downside is that Yvonne can't play table tennis or billiards and the impressive collection of ice hockey sticks were no good to either of us!

No comment neccessary!

This was our home (a tent on a Romanian camp site), our work place (the campsite) and our village for the next three weeks. We were free on Sundays… we started our official working week on a Sunday..... a day off !!!

In the mornings cleaning the utilities - in the evening "..entertaining folks, singing songs and telling jokes.." !

Thursday was market day just down the road in Ocna. Alongside fruit, vegetables, clothes, kitchen utensils and hay making tools there were a selection of gravestones on offer………….    

 

'Time flies by when you are having fun'
We managed to fit in a fair number of activities between our cleaning duties and the rain (there was a lot of rain). We drank some beer and palinka, sang a few songs, tasted some good country food, cycled up to our axles in mud, visited some wooden churches and a comical graveyard....and suddenly it was market day again!!!

It was one of those days you long for when travelling… we had seen posters announcing a local event -  from what we could understand it looked like a religious festival - and so it was...... however by chance we discovered that in the afternoon there was  singing and dancing...an opportunity not to be missed.

There was plenty of music, song and dance.. and even free food! …and hardly a tourist in sight except the ones we took with us.  

 Oh, and a group of musicians we'd met briefly five years ago were there too. Surprisingly they recognised us!

Monday morning, after a weekend of singing and dancing, it was back to work for the local farmers...

 

well...first there was the monthly livestock market in Sighetu Maramatiei...we managed to resist a special
'two for the price of one' offer on piglets........... 

The first time I left the British Isles was a visit to Switzerland with a friend. While he tried to sort out his relationship with the farmer's daughter I spent most days in the fields. My time, it seems, was not wasted. When I decided to help out in Romania the farmers wife, usually either critical of, or highly amused by, outsiders efforts, was complimentary about my hay-making skills!!....  and that after forty years or more…..


Back on the road again.....apart from the unfriendly border control and a torrential rainfall, our first days in the Ukraine were pretty good. 

We found okay accomodation in an hostel where our double room  was a whole lot larger, better and cleaner than many hotels we've stayed in and a Motel where the staff were so pleased to have foreign visitors that they often joined us for a chat, the fact that we didn't understand a word they said didn't seem to matter! .  

In between we checked out as many potholes in the roads as we could manage.

Cycling in Ukraine IS gravel-grinding!

Live from L´viv… after our time in the Ukraine countryside we arrived in L´viv the only city we'd planned to visit this trip.

L´viv is a busy, bustling, vibrant city… with beautiful old building some restored, others in various states of repair or decay. Like most western cities there are plenty of trendy coffee houses, craft beers and restaurants... the contrast with the rural areas could not be greater and there is nothing to indicate that there is still a bitter struggle in a distant part of the country. Surprisingly, maybe, the background music was mostly blues and jazz.

After more than two pleasant days strolling around town, dodging the sometimes heavy showers, my feet were sore and my muscles ached.

Yes - it was time to move on. Next stop Poland.   

Something for all those ……. …...s who voted for Brexit to think about… it took us six hours to cross the border from Ukraine (a European country that is not in the EU) to Poland (a European country in the EU) !!

Every picture tells a story..... the last week of or trip was, at first, not much fun and mostly wet... but luckily there was one more surprise in store….

….yes... we ending our tour surrounded by wild, and some not so wild, animals. It was not planned but the last part of our trip took us through Poland so we decided to drop in on our friends in Wroclaw and this, in turn,  resulted in us being invited to use the guest accommodation in Wroclaw zoo.

These were some of our neighbours during our stay…….

Back in town! A holiday is a holiday, a vacation a vacation but when you are away for more than two or three weeks it becomes something different, almost a way of life. However beautiful the scenary , however impressive the architechture or however fascinating the history , it's the (sometimes small)  events and the (sometimes brief) encounters along the way that make it all worth doing... and doing again...and again.......................