“I have seen monsters. I know what they look like.” says Rita, eyes locked on Nell’s. “The Nazis yes. The ones in the uniforms and goose-stepping in the streets. But it was the townspeople of my village, looking for all the world like good citizens and good Christians, who reported my family. And it was the local police who arrested them and handed them to the Germans. The real monsters.”

“I am not sure I understand.”

“The Hatheson police told me my son was a monster, a murderer.”

“But you don’t believe that?”

“You are telling me what I believe?”

“Yes.” Nell gestures to the pictures on the wall, the pantheon of Rita’s family.”

The reason for this extract from the Australian author Chris Hammer’s new book “Dead Man’s Creek” will, I hope, become obvious, as a series of unrelated events, coincidences even, come together to add colour to this postcard about monsters, although the topic doesn’t really need any colour.

The word ‘pantheon’ means a group of particularly important or famous people and it came to me one night as a collective for the selection of murderers this postcard refers to. It then appeared the following day, in the above extract; it’s not a common word! The fictional Rita, aged 5 and an Austrian Jew, had been staying with an uncle in the country when the Nazis, alerted by neighbours to the presence of a Jewish family in their midst, had rounded up her parents and siblings and sent them to their deaths in a concentration camp. She and hundreds of other orphans were shipped to Australia for a more peaceful upbringing.  

Marcel Marceau

Still unsure where this is going? Well, a few months ago I watched a 2020 film on television called “Resistance” about a Jewish actor, Marcel Mangel (1923 – 2007) , who in 1942 joins the French resistance in Lyon to save thousands of orphaned children from the Nazis. Mangel survived the war and went on to become famous as Marcel Marceau the mime artist. As I watched the film it began to dawn on me that the Gestapo in charge of Lyon was famously known as The Butcher of Lyon. So I expected to find out that at the end of the war he was tried at Nuremburg, found guilty and executed.

I was really saddened to read otherwise. I bought Tom Bower’s 1985 book ‘Klaus Barbie Butcher of Lyon’ and read it, acknowledging it had been written two years after Barbie had been extradited to France from Bolivia and indicted for war crimes in 1984.

I was still reading this book when we flew off to The Atacama in Chile in January (see PCs 319 & 320) and, as you do when you join excursions organised by tour companies, chatted to our fellow travellers. One lovely couple were from Berlin and another from Lyon; it seemed apposite. That and the fact we were only a short distance from the border with Bolivia.

As the war ended, Barbie changed his name and managed to move back into Germany where he got in touch with the United States Intelligence Services. It’s hard to imagine the chaos in Germany after the May 1945 surrender; civilians, refugees, service personnel, no functioning government and from an American point-of-view, a real threat from Soviet Russia. Barbie was employed by the Americans for his anti-communist network of informers and spies. In 1950 the French, who had established Barbie was working in Germany for the US, appealed for his arrest and extradition. The Americans apparently refused and used a well-established ‘rat line’ to send him via Italy to Bolivia. There he spent 30 years living under the name Klaus Altmann, assisting various dictators in their oppression of the regime’s opponents. Nazi-hunters identified him in 1971by some fingerprints, but the Bolivians refused to extradite him to France. (Note 1)

A change in Bolivian politics meant that in 1983 he was finally extradited to France. His trial started in 1987; charged with 41 separate counts of ‘crimes against humanity’, he was found guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment, the death penalty having been abolished in 1981.  He died in 1991 in jail in Lyon aged 71, a far nicer end to his life than the 4,342 individuals whose murders he sanctioned or the 7,591 men, women and children his organisation sent to concentration camps in Germany and Poland and to a certain death, and far, far nicer than those 14,300 who were arrested and tortured, his moniker, the Butcher of Lyon, reflecting the true evil in this man.

While I read the book, two other names surfaced through the sediment of my memory – Mengele and Eichman.

Joseph Mengeles

Adolf Eichman

Adolf Eichman, the main architect of Hitler’s Final Solution, slipped out of Europe to Argentina, where there was a vibrant German community and politicians sympathetic to the Nazi ideology. Eichman lived in Buenos Aires until 1960 when Mossad agents captured him and smuggled him, drugged, out of the country as an El Al flight crew member. After a four month trial in Jerusalem he was found guilty and hanged in May 1962.

Josef Mengele was known as the ‘Angel of Death’ because of his experiments on prisoners in Auschwitz; his penchant was to use pregnant women, twins and the disabled as human guinea pigs. After the war he fled to Argentina and lived quite openly in Buenos Aires, but after Eichman’s capture he disappeared, eventually living in Brazil under the name Wolfgang Gerhard. He managed to evade Nazi hunters but drowned in the sea in Sao Paulo State in 1979 aged 67.

And now I remember Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge in Cambodia, the millions slain during the rise of Mao in China, the Disappeared of Argentina’s Dirty War, the political opponents of Chile’s General Pinochet who were tortured or executed ….. and I have hardly scratched the surface of the monster fraternity!!

But that pantheon of murderers must surely be headed, certainly in the C20th, by both Joseph Stalin and Adolf Hitler, between the two of them responsible for the deaths of over 26 million human beings. Maybe Putin’s on the short list for this century?

Richard 3^rd March 2023

Hove

http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 If he had been extradited and found guilty, he would have been executed.

You may have gathered Celina and I returned to Rio de Janeiro in the second week of January, three years since our last visit. The way Brazil coped with the Covid pandemic was not helped by its then president’s declaration that Covid-19 was no worse than influenza; some 693,000 people died. But globally we have learned to live with this virus and it was only on the beach the other day that I was reminded of slight uncertainties in our post-covid world.

In one of my very first postcards, ‘Beach Life in Brazil’ (PC 08 2014) I wrote about how Brazilians love to spend time on the beach. I added a little postscript (PC 09) about bums and cellulite. Here’s an extract of PC 08:

“Sanwhitches Natooral, Sanwhitches Natooral!” In Portuguese this is actually ‘Sanduiche Natural’, but this is how my untrained ear hears it. For me it epitomises this beach life in Brazil. The elderly chap carries a cool-box over one shoulder, but his body is bent by the uneven weight, his head bowed and he seems to drag his feet through the hot sand, forever crying “Sanduiches Natural” with great enthusiasm! Honestly, would you ever want a sandwich when it’s 36°C? He’s become so familiar me that when I don’t hear him, I wonder whether he’s OK!!”

And now that’s a serious consideration. I don’t see him, don’t hear him except in my memory, and I wonder whether he became a statistic, one of those 693,000. Uncertainty can create sadness. (Note 1)

When I first came to Rio de Janeiro in April 2012 the country’s booming economic cycle, driven by exports of raw materials, was coming to an end: the exchange rate was some Rs 3.25 to the pound. It was one of the BRIC countries, the others being Russia, India, China and South Africa, and this group’s aims were to promote ‘peace, security, development and cooperation.’ Reading those aims in 2023 the word ‘high-falutin’ comes to mind, worthy and idealistic. Maybe the odd disappointment here? Over ten years later the exchange rate is Rs 6.25 to the pound and people here are complaining about the price of basic foodstuffs – just like everywhere else! (Note 2)

One morning we grabbed a cup of coffee in a café in one of the many shopping malls in Leblon, the Rio suburb next to Iponema and Copacabana. The owner was Portuguese and had stencilled some quotes from one of his country’s most famous poets, Fernando Pessoa, on the walls. This one caught my eye: “É preciso tempo para acalmar e recomeçar”

‘I need time to calm down and start again.’

Perfect to think about, sipping a double espresso ……..

Do you cook? I do and I’m thankful that the little chaps in the design centre for Anchor butter, amongst others, ensure the paper has lines dividing the 250g pack into 50g segments.

In Brazil the pack is different, slightly smaller at 200g and the measurements go up in 25g increments; not sure whether this makes it easier for the innumerate or not – just an observation!  

In my postcard PC 235 Generosity in Government (June 2021) I wrote about the investigation into the Grenfell Tower fire of 2017, when 72 individuals died as fire swept upwards through the 24 story building. Five years on and the UK Government’s  Housing Minister Michael Gove had admitted there had been an “active willingness” on the part of developers to endanger lives for profit and blamed collective government failures “over many years”. (Note 3) On 30^th January he announced a six-week deadline for developers to sign a government contract to fix their unsafe tower-blocks – or be banned from the market!

Some of you may have watched a recent drama on British television called ‘Tokyo Vice; an American Reporter on the Vice beat in Japan’? It intrigued me enough to read Jake Adelstein’s account of his 12 years in Japan as the first non-Japanese reporter on the newspaper Yomiuri Shinbun. Lots of interesting stuff in this book, some apparently open to criticism as to its voracity, but often demonstrating how nations have developed differently and how what appears normal in one is abnormal in another. For instance Jake wrote many articles about the seedier side of Japanese life, in particular the goings-on in the red light district of Tokyo, Kabukichō. And you know what? In the west we talk about the moment of sexual ejaculation as ‘coming’: in Japan it’s known as ‘going’! Who knew? I guess it depends on your viewpoint? But now I am really confused, not sure whether I am coming or going.

What started as a little joke on Twitter for Lev Parikian, to find the most popular random English word, resulted in over a million votes for 4096 words, whittled down over a year to the winning word Shenanigans; Codswallop came second. You can imagine the scope of this fun idea when the third-place play-off was between Bollocks and Higgledy-piggledy. I scribbled about long words and stuff in PC 275 Kerfuffle et al March 2022.

For those aspiring writers among you, I think this is worth putting somewhere near your ‘work station’, be it in the back bedroom, in the office at the bottom of the garden or on the downstairs loo. The late author and seafarer Jonathan Raban said: “The word fiction doesn’t come from some imaginary Latin word meaning: ‘I make things up as I go along’. It comes from a real Latin word which means ‘I give shape to things’ and I think that taking the material of an actual journey through life and trying to pattern it and discover plot in it is turning it into fiction in the best sense.” And you may remember me quoting the late Australian Clive James: “All I do is turn a phrase until it catches the light.”

All of us who want to turn our thoughts into words look for that, I guess, wanting them to ‘catch the light’!

Richard 24^th February 2023

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 Before we left, Celina went for a last dip. She heard Sanduiche Man in the distance. Phew!

Note 2 You may remember from PC 320 The Atacama (2) that Chile has a GDP per capita of US$24,474 whereas Brazil’s is some 60% of that at US$15,553.

Note 3 It sounds as though the disregard for earthquake building regulations in southern Turkey has caused tens of thousands of individuals to die. 

One of the joys of life is to return to the familiar, to catch up with others, to chew the fat and gossip. So it was this week I managed to push open the Hope Café doors for the first time this year, be washed by the warmth of people and the fug from the heating! I immediately spied Sami and Lisa at a corner table as I expected, as we had exchange texts earlier to ensure we could meet. As I walked in, I saw another lady, sixty-something and blonde, quietly reading Robert Harris’ latest book ‘The Act of Oblivion’.

On my way past, nosey as I am, I ask if she’s enjoying it.

“Only just started it” she says “but I love the idea that it’s kept quite close to the historical facts, that when Oliver Cromwell died and the monarchy was restored, there was a hunt for those who had signed King Charles 1’s death warrant. Have you read it?”

King Charles 1’s Death Warrant, with 59 signatories

“Yes … and, given that I don’t generally like historical novels, I found it brilliant. I’m Richard by the way.” “Hello Richard, I’m Mo.”

Not wanting to intrude further, I hoped she’d enjoy her coffee and moved across to Sami’s table. Lisa offered to get me an espresso and left to talk to Josh behind the counter.

“So pleased to see you Richard. Looking well! Haven’t seen you since before Christmas, so bring me up to date. Didn’t you say you were going to Rio de Janeiro?”

“Yes, we had just over three weeks, living in my brother-in-law’s apartment in Barra da Tijuca; he and his family are in Portugal. Wonderful views of Pedro de Gavea, the granite and gneiss mountain that rises 844m almost straight out of the sea. Normally we see its south eastern side. Look! Here’s a photo from that side

……. and this from somewhere near the top

……. and this the view from Barra by the light of a full moon.

During that time we flew off to The Atacama desert in northern Chile for five nights (see PCs 319 & 320).”

“Wow! How was that?”

“Not like anything we have done before, although we acknowledge that we tend to travel to places where there aren’t many people!! (Other places include Alaska, PCs 44 & 45 July 2015, and The Pantanal PCs 17 & 20 Aug/Sep 2014).” I sensed Sami and Lisa wanted to see some photographs so opened my iPad and tried not to bore them too much!

Part of the Moon Valley, north of San Pedro de Atacama

Sami seems very relaxed and his relationship with Lisa is obviously doing him good. He tells me the Post Office Enquiry is now focusing on the IT systems and Post Office Management response, although he’s fairly sanguine about any compensation for lives destroyed (See my postcard PC 235 Generosity in Government (June 2021)).

“Did you see that nonsense in France about the attempt by Emmanuel Macron to raise the retirement age from 62 to 64? Well, we think it’s nonsense but most people in France don’t. Look, I found this interesting table about retirement ages and life expectancy:

Sami, you and I weren’t around when the UK Government first introduced a state pension; it was in 1908. You could claim it on your 70^th birthday; it seems the treasury didn’t have to put a huge amount into the pension pot, as life expectancy for men was 51!  

Nations treat the elderly differently. In Latin America we are recognised in a number of different ways; I have experienced a few. Many years ago we had taken the bus from Rio de Janeiro to Petropolis (See PC 6 2014), about a two hour trip. On arrival in the bus terminal I needed to pop to the loo and, after showing proof of age (!), was waved through the turnstile by the attendant. On this trip both entering Chile at Santiago airport and entering Brazil when we returned, we had our own ‘passport control queue’. In Rio this was very fortunate as five aeroplanes had landed within a few minutes of each other (1000 passengers?) and the queue snaked forwards, around, backwards, around and would have taken hours! In Brazil the local supermarket chain Zona Sul has a check-out queue for those with walking sticks and the elderly; I am not proud when it comes to using it and Celina’s in my wake!”

Sami, Lisa and I caught up with other news.

“You know”, says Sami,” the war in Ukraine has, for obvious reasons, stayed in our consciousness since the invasion in February last year but not necessarily now at the top. Today the horrific earthquake in south eastern Turkey and Syria has our attention, for this loss of life is not the result of someone’s misguided ambitions and hunger for attention, Putin The Pigheaded, ……”

“Hey That’s my name for him, Sami!

“I know! I pinched it!  …. but the earth’s crust doing a little adjustment. In its scale, just a minor itch, but the reality for those buried under collapsed buildings is final.”

Rahmi my local newsagent is Turkish and has many relatives living there, but fortunately just to the north of the earthquake zone; one aunt has a broken leg. In his shop by the till is a plastic container used as a donation box and it’s already very full of folding money.”

Before I leave I go and have a chat with Susie, as the last time I saw her she told me her cousin had been knocked over by an electric scooter in Clapham and was in St George’s Hospital’s ICU. (See PC 312 December 2023)

“They performed miracles, Richard; seriously! There was a neurosurgeon Henry Marsh who managed to stop the brain bleed and the long term outlook is very positive. It’s over two months ago and he should be discharged next week.”

I couldn’t tell her that about the same time my sister-in-law, living in Portugal, had choked on some bread, suffered a blockage of her airways and had subsequently died. All too raw: maybe next time.

I nod to Mo as I leave, mouth ‘maybe see you next time’, and go out into the fresh air.

Richard 17^th February 2023

Hove

http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS Sunrise is often an enchanting time, the promise of a day of one’s life. Wednesday’s was stunning!

I know it’s February already but other topics got priority for my scribbles! Even taking a succinct look at what I want for 2023 (see PC 318) resulted in the need to have a second postcard. Could of course go on and on!!

If two individuals are having a conversation about the price of eggs, or Aunt Jemima’s pancakes, or why they should lose weight, or simply catching up with the relevant or irrelevant gossip, and a mobile, ‘cell’ if you’re American, rings, I want its owner not to say “Sorry! I have to take this”, sometimes not even looking down to see who’s calling them. If you are talking to someone, it’s nice to have their full attention and vica versa. It may be convenient for the person calling to make the call, but may not be for those having a chat. Yet there seems to be a compulsion to answer it and I want it to stop for it’s such bad manners and downright rude.

I want us to repeat to ourselves, every day, that there are no guarantees in life and the time we are given is precious; we need to make the most of every day. A cliché? So what!

We all hate plastic and it’s become the environmental bogyman! But the plastic has become stronger and you can no longer rip it. I want this to change!

I had to cut this plastic bag of potatoes with some scissors!

I know that many other countries are grappling with the same issues as the United Kingdom, different in some nationalistic ways but the real nub the same. One particular one, put briefly: how do you provide affordable health and social care for a population where the proportion of those needing care is growing and that cost has to be paid for by the working population which is shrinking. I want the current government to scope a solution.

The NHS in the United Kingdom is a money pit that suffers from a hugely inefficient bureaucracy. Currently it’s struggling to cope with huge numbers of Covid and winter influenza cases and something needs to change. Too many vested interests have resisted change and more public money is poured after public money, for no identifiable difference. There are lots of good suggestions floating around and not one of them says throw more money at it. If I need to see a health specialist, a dermatologist for instance, I need to go through my GP to get a referral. Why? Why can’t I ring a dermatologist?  

During the pandemic all doctor’s appointments went online; many have stayed on line. But if you can’t get a GP appointment and are so minded to present yourself at A&E for your in-growing toenail or other minor ailment, the ‘cost’ of the A&E appointment is about £360 whereas your GP’s about £40. Makes no sense!

The shadow health secretary has suggested working to phase out smoking, highlighting the damage to individuals’ and the nation’s health and the costs incurred as a result. I could say the same about drinking; on a conservative estimate some 50% of the paramedic’s call-outs are to someone where alcohol is the cause. I want the message to be starker, more understood. I want us all to take more personal responsibility for what we do and how we do it. Recently during a strike by paramedics, attendance at A&E was down 60%. There must have been a proportion of these who didn’t bother to go the following day, having solved the issues themselves?   

I take some medications as a result of having a heart bypass ten years ago. Do I need to take them for ever? So often GPs simply add a new medication for a patient and never review the whole list. Some 80 year olds are apparently taking over 8 different medications. This could be costly for the NHS and I want someone to do a review.

          We sadly too often read of a case where, for whatever reason, a man, and it’s usually a man, has had enough of his family; he decides that the only way to gain personal satisfaction is to kill them, and then commit suicide. Even in this moment of madness, I want him to spare his children. (Note 1)

In the United Kingdom the maximum length of our Parliament is five years. So the political party spends 18 months trying to implement its election campaign commitments, soft peddling for a year or so before thinking how it’s going to win the next general election. I want a new apolitical body to help define some form of National Strategy that has a 10 – 20 year view.

I want us all to accept others for whom and what they are, but we seem to have got our knickers in a complete twist when it comes to gender identity and sexual orientation. I understand that for a small section of our society these are weighty matters and deserve attention, discussion, advice and debate, but when teachers are asked to ‘identify’ with a personal pronoun, I am afraid I roll my eyes skywards. And on the subject of acceptance, we have a number of religions on the planet and there is a degree of ‘If you don’t agree with our beliefs, you must be against us.’ No! I am not; I just want you to accept I am not.

I remember, many years ago, reading of the planned renovation of a tall brick/stone tower that had steps to the top, giving those who made the climb a wonderful view of the surrounding countryside. The grant making the renovation possible required that it had access for wheelchair users. This would have meant the installation of a lift and there wasn’t room in the tower for a lift-shaft. So the renovation didn’t go ahead and the tower was closed, depriving the huge majority the experience to climb up. I want more common sense please!

Mind you, if the predictions about extinction (see PC 318) are to be believed future generations will not have to worry about these ‘wants’ or anything else for that matter!

Richard 10^th February 2023

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 Last weekend we had another case. George Pattison, 39, murdered his forty-five year old wife, Epsom College’s head teacher Emma, and their daughter Lettie (7) and then committed suicide. He spared the Labrador puppy ….. but not his daughter.

We continue …. (see PC 319) ……

In my first postcard about The Atacama I mentioned San Pedro being known locally as the ‘Clay Town’. A few kilometres to the south east lies the little town of Toconao, known as the ‘Brick Town’. Unlike San Pedro’s red clay rendering, the houses here are faced with bricks and stone from a nearby quarry.

Toconao church; its door is made from cactus wood

Such is the height of the extinct volcanoes that make up the Andes range, running some 8900kms from the southern tip of Chile to the Caribbean Sea, on the Atacama plateau they are always there, on the horizon, out of the corner of your eye. (Note 1)   

One lagoon worth visiting is Tebinquinche, for it had enough water for a swim, although the salt content was so high floating was the only option! The local tourism organisation had built a changing and showering block, both essential with the heat and the need to rid oneself of the covering of salt.

We were joined on this outing by a German couple and another from France. The elderly German was conspicuous as he was 2.02m (6ft 8”) tall and naturally had played basketball!! I asked the Frenchman Pierre where he came from and he said Lyon. After the normal pleasantries I said I had recently watched the film ‘Resistance’ on British television, about Marcel Mangel (aka Marceau) and how he aided the escape of hundreds of Jewish children out of the sadistic clutches of Klaus Barbie during the Nazi occupation of Lyon. Interestingly his wife immediately said that no one talked about that time, reflecting the difficulties any population has living under foreign occupation, how whole families were torn apart by shifting loyalties and how the repercussions echo down the decades to this day.

An overcast sky meant the ‘Stars & Fire’ tour was cancelled so we missed the opportunity to lie on our backs at midnight and gaze into the heavens. By reputation the skies in the deserts of the world are wonderful. Naturally volcanoes have hot springs and geysers. Andrea and Andreas, our Berlin friends from our first excursion, went out to one, the early hotel departure time dictated by when the geysers normally gush. When they arrived it was about 0615 and -8C, but fortunately soon warmed up!

Our third venture into the dry landscape was to Rainbow Valley (Valle del Arcoiris), lying in the Rio Grande basin about 90kms from San Pedro. Our Trekana guide this time was an ebullient Argentinian called Nicholas, who had married and settled in San Pedro. Joel, who runs a leather fashion-ware company in Boulder, Colorado and his wife Elke who has an online leather bags business (www.byelke.com) were our companions.

The Rainbow Valley landscape was extraordinary, absolutely extraordinary. We went from: “Wow!”

……to “blimey!”

….. to an unspoken: “I really can’t believe this!”

The valley obviously owes its name to the various colours of the rock formations – red, beige, green, white, yellow and blue, overlaid with white salt and under a deep blue sky. We have all seen the results of a copper roof oxidising over some years, the roof developing a blue/green patina. Here it was in nature!

On the day of our flight back to Santiago, we had breakfast overlooking the Valle de Luna, before driving down into it for a 45 minute walk. It’s not often you can have some fruit, yogurt and coffee with this sort of view:

Our companions on this trip were eight Chileans up from Conceptión, just south of Santiago, for a long weekend; four of them were surgeons. Leonardo was married to a surgeon but was actually a real estate/property developer and thinking of emigrating to New Zealand. Being British my thoughts go east and around the world to ‘Down Under’. If you’re Chilean you simply look west! 

Conspiracy theorists and other nutters have often claimed that the moon landing of 1969 was faked! Well, they could easily have been somewhere here in Luna Valle, such was its dramatic mixture of craters and cliffs and dunes and aridness.

And how do you get to the Atacama? Unless you’re rich enough to fly your private jet into Calama, us mortals fly via Chile’s capital Santiago. We bookended our Atacama trip with two nights in the Ismail 312 hotel, just on the north side of Barrio Lastarria. Our first night was disturbed by a loud party across the river and shortened by the airlines requiring one to be at the airport three hours before our departure time! Drifting around Barrio Lastarria before our flight back to Rio, we recognised the restaurant that Franco took us to in February 2017 on our first trip to Santiago (PC 89)

The more I travel, the more I need to understand what makes a country tick, at least understand how they got to be what they are today and their place on the world’s stage. So having established that copper is Chile’s major export, it was interesting on this trip to learn that Lithium is being extracted from deep beneath the salt flats of The Atacama. Lithium (Li) is the least dense metal and the least dense solid element and has been used to treat depression and mania for centuries. More recently it’s become the star of modern battery development, so important in the burgeoning Electric Car industry. And by the way, it’s unlikely you’ve eaten Chilean cherries recently, as almost 9/10^th of the country’s total production, for instance some 352,000 tonnes in 2021, is exported to China.

As far as Chile is concerned, its small population of 19.5 million gives it a GDP per capita US$24,474. Compare this with its continental neighbour Brazil, with its population of 214 million and GDP per capita US$15,553, some 60% of that of Chile. (Note 2 & 3)

So pleased we now have some experience of The Atacama; a beautiful, wild, unearthly and fascinating place. I urge you to go and see it!

Richard 3^rd February 2023

Rio de Janeiro

www.postcardscribbles .co.uk

Note 1 The highest mountain, Aconcagua and 6961m high, lies in the Mendoza Province of Argentina, just to the north east of Chile’s capital Santiago.

Note 2 The United Kingdom has a population 67 million and GDP per capita US$44,920.

Note 3 Chile is ranked 58, Brazil 82 and the UK 26 in a comparative list of the GDP per capita of 190 countries.

Chile has always been an intriguing country, so long and so thin, stretching for over 4270kms from its border with Bolivia in the north to its tip on the bottom of the Americas and, on average, only 177kms east to west. For its entire length the mountain range of The Andes defines its geography and ecosystems. But the geo-political entirety of the country only came together in the 1880s, when Chile triumphed in the War of the Pacific and annexed Peru’s southern shoreline and Bolivia’s entire Pacific coast, so land-locking the latter country. At the same time, its troops conquered the indigenous Mapuche people and their land south of Santiago was subsumed into modern Chile.

Down south, the region known as Patagonia is shared with Argentina, the Chilean side characterised by glacial fjords and temperate rainforest whilst it’s the Argentinian side of the Andes that has arid steppes and deserts. North of the squeezed middle with the cities of Santiago (See PC 89 Franco’s Santiago 2017) and Valparaiso lies one of the driest places on earth, the Atacama desert and to its north east lies the tourist town of San Pedro de Atacama.

Main Street, San Pedro

Distinguished by the reddish colour of its clay buildings, it’s …. “a town set on a high plateau in the Andes mountains of north-eastern Chile. Its dramatic surrounding landscape incorporates desert, salt flats, volcanoes, geysers and hot springs. The Valle de la Luna nearby is a lunar-like depression.”

Enough of a basic geography lesson, or reminder (?) Why, you might ask, is this postcard seemingly from Latin America? As Covid travel restrictions eased, in November last year we planned to return to Rio de Janeiro and thought about ‘doing the Atacama and Patagonia’, such is the success of Chile’s tourism advertising; these two, plus Easter Island, have become the go-to destinations. 

Luckily one of my Godsons is married to the co-founder of a UK travel agent who specialises in Latin America (www.latinroutes.co.uk). The first draft suggestions from Latin Routes covered both the Atacama and Patagonia. Scrutiny of the journey from the Atacama to Patagonia revealed an early start, two interconnecting flights and, after arriving in Punta Arenas Airport late in the day, a six hour trip in a 4×4 to the lodge. This would not have been a holiday so Patagonia will have to wait for another time!

San Pedro in the centre, mountain lakes bottom right and Rainbow Valley due north

I hadn’t realised how much one might be affected by a change of altitude. Rio de Janeiro is, obviously, at sea level (doh!) and Santiago at 570m. We arrived in northern Chile and drove into San Pedro de Atacama, which lies at 2450m. Someone mentioned we might feel its effects but I can only describe it as walking across a swinging rope bridge, not quite sure where my next step would be and whether my legs were moving independently! On our first excursion we ended up at the mountain lakes of Miscanti and Miniques at 4150 metres.

Fortunately I was wearing a T shirt from the Dutch ‘Iceman’ Wim Hof with ‘Breathe …. Motherf***kers’ emblazoned across the chest! You needed to consciously breathe full breathes and take short steps.

For our first excursion our Trekana guide Mauricio had met us at our Noi Casa hotel and we joined Andrea and Andreas from Berlin and another couple from Madrid. We were staying in the same hotel as Andrea & Andreas and got to know them; we hope to keep in touch. We drove out to the large salt flats of Laguana Chaxa, the ‘Salar de Atacamas’, lying some 30 minutes south of San Pedro in the Los Flamencos National Reserve.

Actually ‘large’ is an inadequate word, as they extend some 150kms south, are 65kms wide and over a kilometre and a half deep. ‘Deep’ as in salt minerals; the surface water is only about 3 feet deep. (Note 2) The attraction here is the three species of flamingos, the Chilean, the Andean and the James’.

From there we went up into the mountains (see map), to those charming lakes of Miscanti and Miniques. It freezes hard up here in the winter but we were lucky with some sun, before a shower of rain. (Note 3)

We drove back towards San Pedro de Atacama and stopped for a picnic lunch at the junction of an old Inca trail and the Tropic of Capricorn (Note 4). Just a line on a map, this latitude of the ‘Tropic of Capricorn’, but walking out down the dusty Inca trail, away from everyone else, lovely to let one’s mind imagine the traffic this path had experienced thousands of years ago; footprints, sandal impressions, the hoof  tracks of donkeys and llamas, but now simply dust.

The Tropic of Capricorn crossing an ancient Inca trail moving off northwards

Part Two to follow next week.

Richard 27th January 2023

http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS As an aside, some of you will have read my postcards from our trip to the north of South Island New Zealand in 2020 (PCs 169 and 170), when I wanted to visit the sand spit where, in August 1877, a seventeen year old girl, who later became my great grandmother, was shipwrecked and rescued some days later. I needed a travel agent with very local knowledge of the area, so went onto Google Earth, zoomed into the town of Nelson and located a travel agent on Trafalgar Street, World Travellers. Then it was a simple task to ask by email whether they could do the international stuff in addition to the local detail. The result was absolutely perfect.

Note 1 Chile is the most prominent example of an elongated type of territorial morphology; other examples include Norway and Vietnam.

Note 2 Compare with the Pantanal, (see PC 17 and 20 2014) the world’s biggest wetland, some 800kms north to south, 500kms east to west, with a height difference of some one metre over its whole length. The Pantanal lies east over The Andes from The Atacama, straddling the borders of Brazil, Paraguay and Bolivia. Oddly they are at about the same latitude, one of the driest places on earth and one of the wettest; separated by the great mountain range of the Andes!

Note 3.Despite it being summer in the southern hemisphere, the months of January and February mark the Altiplanic winter here, with occasional heavy rain storms. Bizarre huh?

Note 4 Simon Reeve, a British author and travel documentary maker, made a fascinating journey along the Tropic of Cancer and along the Tropic of Capricorn. Among his other programmes is one entitled The Americas; the part about Chile is intriguing.

Let me first acknowledge that I am aware Christmas 2022 is over, even for Orthodox Christians, otherwise you might think I am showing the early stages of dementia. Well I thought Christmas was over until we went through Terminal 5 at London’s Heathrow Airport last Wednesday morning, 11^th January, for our flight to Rio de Janeiro. Catching an opportunity to have a pee before going to the gate, I popped into the nearest loo, to be serenaded by “On The First Day of Christmas my true love sent to me …”. Fortunately this wasn’t in ‘Arrivals’, when it might have given those travellers coming to the UK for the first time the wrong impression of this great country!

   We’re now some days into 2023 and in previous years I have often wished people ….. “all of what you need and some of what you want” for the new year. The other morning, walking back in the dark from Rahmi the newsagent, I thought about what I might want this year. Of course the word ‘want’ and ‘Christmas’ bring to mind the song ‘All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth’, first recorded in 1948 by American bandleader Spike Jones and by others since, including Alvin &The Chipmunks and a group called the Platters; well, for those of us of a certain age. There’s another Christmas song that starts ‘All I want ….. ‘, ‘All I want for Christmas is you’ and the latest recording’s by Mariah Carey and Justin Bieber in 2009.

So what would be my idealistic wants of 2023?

We are beginning to accept, somewhat reluctantly, that societies need to do something to reduce the impact of climate change, whether man-made or simply in the cycles that define the universe. The mild climate of the United Kingdom is likely to experience more extremes, hot, cold, dry and wet. In the latter case there’s going to be more rain in shorter bursts. Already last year Shoreham, a harbour a few miles west of here, had more that 200% of its expected November rainfall. (Note 1) I want the Green council who run Brighton & Hove to ensure all the drainage systems in the city are cleared of debris and fit for purpose. Currently they are not and flooding occurs; it will only get worse.

And on that subject of our changing climate, I watched David Attenborough’s ‘Extinction: The Facts’, a 2020 documentary, on the flight out to Brazil. I want its message, that one million out of the eight million species on this planet, are at risk of extinction, to be part of mainstream education worldwide. In the west we recoil at the use of wild animals for traditional medicine in some parts of the world. I hope that education will convince current users that, for instance, the scales of the pangolin, made from keratin, the same material that makes up fingernails, hair and horn, have no proven medicinal value. Closer to home, you remember when driving, particularly in the summer, the windscreen became covered in squashed bugs and any attempt with some screen-clean often seemed to make it worse? The bugs have disappeared and that is extremely worrying given the vital role each species plays in natures’ food chain, from the smallest microbe to the largest mammal.  

In the United Kingdom we are in the middle of wide-scale industrial unrest, covering most of our public services. The Union movement have rightly been agitating for better pay and conditions for their members; after all, that’s their role! I have never belonged to a union, but so often it seems they resist change, fight modernisation and are not really, in their heart-of-hearts, interested in the success of the company or organisation their members are working in. I want them to have a rethink, to stop saying ‘No!’ and to start making positive suggestions.

We had a strike by the Refuse Collection service in Brighton & Hove for weeks last year; people continued to throw out stuff, then simply on top of the overflowing bins. I want individuals to be more aware of what they discard, how they discard it and if they’ve had a delivery contained in large boxes, for those boxes to be flattened and put in the biggest recycling bin they can find, even if it means walking a hundred metres. I want the council to ensure such a basic collection service is guaranteed.

In the newspaper recently was a review of a book called “Sensational – A New Story of Our Senses” by Ashley Ward. James McConnachie found it ‘a serious and thoughtful book’ with some trivia woven into good solid scientific information, like how decibels are named after their inventor Alexander Graham Bell. But I want to know why ‘when dogs defecate they line up in a roughly north-south direction’? My lovely Labrador Tom is no longer of this world otherwise I’d be out with a compass to check out this claim. But if it’s true, I want to know why?

The Prime Minister here has recently suggested all school children should study Mathematics until 18, in line with some other forward-thinking countries. One newspaper gave some examples from Mathematics examination questions; all I can say it was a long time ago since I passed A level Maths!! But a great idea of Rishi Sunak, our current Prime Minister! I want something even more basic than the ability to understand percentages and statistics. What I really want is a promise from the Department of Education that all our children leave school being able to read and write properly. It’s disgraceful that in 2023 some will not and their lives will be hugely disadvantaged by that deficiency. For those within our prisons who can’t, reaching a certain standard of proficiency could be a condition of early release.

More thoughts to come ……

Richard 20^th January 2023

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 Somewhere on the Ghan railway line from Adelaide to Darwin in Australia had 200% monthly rainfall in five days sometime in 2022!

Earlier this month I was moved to write, again, to The Times. (see PC 292 Dear Sir (1) July 2022 for the first collection)

January 2023

“Sir ….. I read with interest the French post office’s ideas for future first-class letters, writing on their website your ‘letter’, which is then printed off in the appropriate local post office, put in an envelope and delivered.

Wedded as I am to cursive script, I have a different 2023 solution. I write my bread-and-butter Thank You letters as normal, photograph them with my mobile phone, and send them free via WhatsApp. This is an instant first class solution, although my local postie Steve might disagree!”

So for this week’s postcard I have reprinted some of my previous efforts to get published nationally! Where necessary I have added a little explanation if the relevance isn’t clear or the passage of time causes me to add my own comment!

9^th November 2020

“Sir …… At the abbreviated (Covid-constrained) Remembrance Sunday service yesterday, the Bishop of London, as part of her prayers, remembered those who had given their lives for their country. It struck me that this should have been changed to ‘our country’?”

Now I am in conflict! They died fighting for the United Kingdom but they might well have come from Commonwealth countries so maybe it’s correct?

Much newsprint was naturally given to the international fight against Covid.

21^st April 2020

“Sir ……. In yesterday’s edition you showed a bar chart indicating Covid 19 patient outcomes but it failed to have bar for the 70-74 age group. At 73, should I be worried by its omission?

14^th April 2020

“Sir ….. Ben Macintyre, in yesterday’s article ‘Virus reawakens class conflict ….’, highlights the divisions in global society but suggests that these divisions exposed by the disease are reinforced by race. His ’35 per cent of our critically ill people were from a BAME background, despite making up only 14% of the population’ stands as a fact and nothing more. You surely can’t draw any conclusion without knowing much more?

Time Zones often cause confusion!

13^th February 2020

“Sir ……..In an article about Sinn Fein’s Irish poll success (Times 11th Feb 2020) there was a little embedded box about changes to the EU Times Zones. It rightly stated that an EU Commission has proposed an end to the biannual changing of the clocks ……. but you confused the story by saying that the EU switches back to Greenwich Mean Time (GMT) on the last Sunday of October. Currently the EU (less Portugal and Ireland) is on Central European Time (CET), adds an hour for Central European Summer Time and then reverts back to CET and not GMT. Here in the UK we move from GMT to British Summer Time and back to GMT. Clear as mud huh!”

19^th August 2019

“Sir …. A recent letter from HMRC was addressed to me as Mr RC Yates, but the salutation read “Dear Sir/Madam”. Maybe they had recognised that I live in the city of Brighton & Hove and were covering my future options!”

6^th October 2018

“Sir ……. Elizabeth Smith’s letter, ‘Useful First Words’ 4th October, mentioned a report that the first word the Queen Mother had learnt to spell was ptarmigan. It reminded me of the story from an Alaskan village called ‘Chicken’. The settlement, started during the Gold Rush years, grew to such an extent that it warranted a name. Everyone agreed it should be called after the local bird, the ptarmigan. When no one offered to spell it correctly, they opted for ‘Chicken’ instead!” (See PCs 44 and 45 about our trip to Alaska in 2015)

16^th May 2019

“Sir …… Helen Rumbelow’s piece on the osteopath Nick Potter, Times 2 15 May 19, was fascinating. His main assertion seems to be that pain in simply in the brain. I concur! If I stub my toe, my toe hurts. If I bend down to rub it and hit my head, it’s only my head that hurts! Mind you, being male, I can only concentrate on one thing at once.”

21^st September 2018

“Sir …… As a nation with as deep and rich naval heritage as ours, surely we can get the nomenclature right. The article in today’s Times concerning the death of an Australian on a Mexican billionaire’s yacht referred to the boat’s back and not its stern. And while we are at it, the pointy bit in the front is the bow.”

In a similar vein, two years earlier on 27th June 2016

“Sir …….. I do wish you would take more care with your descriptions of photographs. Back in May this year you captioned a photograph indicating that Putney was downriver of Tower Bridge, whereas of course by convention it is upriver. Today you show the yachts before the start of the Round The World Clipper Race up river of Tower Bridge, facing upriver, and yet the caption says “Approaching Tower Bridge” – backwards?”

17^th January 2018

“Sir ……. After Tom Whipple’s negative piece in Friday’s Times about Bikram/hot yoga being no better for you than ordinary yoga, now Kevin Mahler in today’s Times believes that everyone doing it farts all the time! So now it’s smelly and “frequently practised naked”! Really! What a load of rubbish and unbecoming of the standard expected of The Times. Why can’t they accept that millions of people around the world embrace yoga, in its many forms, on a daily basis and here in the UK the more we can encourage people to do some form of exercise, any form of exercise, the better?

Whilst I appreciate Mahler tried ordinary yoga, maybe they should both take a 90 minute hot yoga session, and then pass judgement”

 24^th November 2017

“Sir ……. Carol Midgley can’t see what’s wrong with spooning jam straight from the pot onto toast (Times 2 22 Nov). Then goes on to compound her problem by suggesting it’s better than ‘putting a disgusting butter-smeared knife into the jam’. No one wants butter in the jam or vice versa. The simple solution is to put the butter onto one’s plate with a ‘butter knife’ and the jam onto one’s plate with a spoon. Then you can lather your toast anyway you wish.”

Richard 13^th January 2023

http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

When was the last time you used a bus? I am not asking about the one that takes you, in some airports, from the terminal to your aeroplane, or waiting, if you’re lucky, for you to deplane, but a public one? If you live in the country, I suspect not recently, as in not this decade; the paucity of a good timetable and routes means if you want to return the same day, you drive your car. Growing up in Balcombe, some 18 miles north of here, the only way to get into Haywards Heath, the nearest town about 5 miles away, was on a single-decker bus; unless you walked just under a mile to the railway station and caught a train. The bus took you past the Ouse Valley Viaduct and over a small hump-backed bridge that spanned the river. Sitting in the back gave you a lift!

Here in Brighton & Hove we have a good reliable bus service that uses both diesel and electric buses to cover the whole city. In addition there is a frequent service from the city west, via Littlehampton, Bognor Regis and Chichester, to Portsmouth, provided by Stagecoach and its Coastliner 700 buses.

From home in Albany Villas we can simply walk up the road and have the option of two bus stops, each on a different route, giving us four buses to choose from; spoilt for choice one might say! So most week days we travel into Brighton’s Churchill Square and walk the few hundred metres to the Yoga-In-The-Lanes Studio in Middle Street. Those who travel by bus are an interesting cross section of the city’s inhabitants, although not equally representative!  

I notice some individuals queue for a few minutes before the bus comes along but seem surprised they have to pay, so fumble in their pocket or bag for a bus pass or card. It’s always interesting how the passengers on the lower deck accommodate the differing needs of the wheel chair users, the walking sticks of those needing support and the mums with push chairs. One young mother has twins and her double buggy takes up a great deal of room. Most passengers are lost in their own world, interacting with some form of social media, staring straight ahead to avoid eye contact, or using their phone to talk to someone. I love eavesdropping on anyone’s conversation but if they’re not using English I just get irritated!

And what do you do when someone plonks their feet, encased in their shoes, on the seat? Despite the sign asking them not to!

One chap had his whole leg on the seat and his facial expression suggested no one should challenge him, irrespective of whether his designer trainers have poo on them! Nice huh! And little dogs I understand, as they are often in a small pouch (pooch in a pouch?), but a Labrador??

There remains a lot of ‘Covid’ about, laid on top of the normal winter influenza viruses and you might think individuals would take some responsibility for their own health and be aware of those around them. A week or so before Christmas a non-mask-wearing woman came onto the bus with lots of shopping in plastic bags and, wheezing and sighing loudly, squeezed herself into a seat. Five minutes later she sneezed and tried to restrict the spread of the mucous by putting her hand over her nose! Well, that’s OK because we all sneeze sometimes – having a handkerchief or not is another matter. I later observed her, I assume completely subconsciously, grab a vertical handrail with the hand she had sneezed into ………. (and here I should insert one of those little emoji things).

There are few masks in evidence even though it’s flu season and why wouldn’t you wear one? Maybe I am being ridiculous? We have lived with everyone else’s germs for millennia and generally our immune system copes well, but on my birthday last October I baulked at blowing out the candles on my birthday cake!! Don’t think about it too long, but you can understand the dilemma?

The route takes us through Palmeira Square, where we looked at an apartment to buy back in 2012, before we found our gorgeous one here in Amber House, and along Western Road. There’s a new sculpture of bronze-looking fish by the bus stop in Norfolk Square.

It was created by local artist Steve Geliot and is made of three 180 year-old cast iron dolphins which used to form part of the Victoria Fountain in Old Steine in central Brighton. The fountain was renovated in 1990 and the dolphins removed; obviously they didn’t fit the new design brief! They had been stored in Stanmer Park in Brighton ever since.

Further along the bus stop is named ‘Waitrose’, as it’s outside a branch of the supermarket chain, although every other stop is named after a local road or square. After Clarence Square and the announcement we should alight here for the ‘Brighton i360’, we arrive in Churchill Square, a mishmash of architectural styles dominated on the north side by a 1960’s modern building and on the south side by a shopping centre. 

Some of the buses on the route are electric and have USB charging points everywhere; these are extremely popular! And the city has an ‘ultra-low emissions zone’ to encourage more environmentally friendly means of transport. Mentioning electric-powered buses reminds me of a great BBC series on television – “The Secret Genius of Modern Life” where Professor Hannah Fry uncovers the secrets behind some of the technologies we have come to rely on. She investigates the Fitbit, Alexa, trainers and electric cars. Did you know that Thomas Edison drove an electric car? It is still drivable today.

          But being a child at heart, I was completely taken in by her simplistic demonstration of how to build a basic electric motor! So, if you’re interested:

Take a power source, say an ordinary battery

Attach some bent paper clips to each end with some masking tape

Take a piece of copper wire and wind it around something circular, say a biro. If the wire has some insulation, strip that back using some sandpaper or wire-stripper.

If you don’t have any little magnets (?) go down to your hardware store and buy some. Place the magnets on the battery under the coiled wire and Hey! Ho! It’ll turn!

This is the first postcard of 2023; there will be more!

Richard 6^th January 2023

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

So here we are, again, a day before the end of a year, when traditionally we look back and review. We then look forward and plan, pretend to make lists of things to give up or take up but most people know instinctively that by the end of January many of those ideas will have been diluted by other events that interfere. Some of those events we will have control over, many we will not, so we just have to make the most of the hand we are dealt!

A few days ago it was the Christian Festival of Christmas, the 25^th of December. Some Christians don’t celebrate Christmas, for instance Jehovah’s Witnesses which dropped its observance in 1928. If you are an Orthodox Christian, it’ll be in eight days’ time, on 7^th January 2023, the date on which, according to the Julian calendar, Jesus Christ was born. The Julian Calendar, named after Julius Caesar, was replaced in 1582 by the Gregorian Calendar, which reduced the average length of the year from 356.25 to 356.2425 days. It’s obvious these little things matter in the grand scope of our universe.

This year the Ukrainians celebrated Christmas Day on the 25^th as the leader of the Russian Orthodox Church Patriarch Kirill blotted his copybook saying all Russians killed in the fighting will be cleansed of their sins. A good example of how God is often asked to support both sides in a conflict.

The remains of an Ukrainian Orthodox Church

Regular readers of these scribbles will know that I love the coincidences (note 1)  in life that stop me in my insignificant tracks and make me think ‘Wow! Did that just happen or is there someone pulling the strings?’ Well, on the shortest day in the Northern Hemisphere, there were another two. Firstly, I had just added a little more interest to my PC 314 23^rd December, by going onto Google Maps and identifying a hospital in Derby that Melanie and Jim might have gone to, and chose The Royal Derby Hospital. Later that evening, a day of industrial action by Ambulance drivers across England and Wales, a BBC News reporter gave her piece from in front of one of the twelve hundred English NHS hospitals – they chose The Royal Derby! ‘Warms the cockles of me heart’ or so some might say!

The red blob marks Biloxi on the northern shore of the Gulf of Mexico

Later on, reading John Grisham’s latest, ‘The Boys from Biloxi’ which is, as always, a rollicking read, I am brought to an abrupt stop when I read one of the local corrupt police chief’s deputies is called Ruby Kilgore. On its own an unusual surname perhaps, compared with Smith or Jones, but the coincidence is that 24 hours before I had finished Peter James’ latest novel featuring the Brighton & Hove detective Roy Grace, ‘Picture You Dead’. The main criminal was an art collector and his enforcer was an American from one of the Southern States called Robert Kilgore!

We said goodbye to Elizabeth Alexandra Mary Windsor, who had been our Queen for over seventy years, a most wonderful example of duty, commitment and service to the Nation. Since then the Duke & Duchess of Sussex have rarely been out of the UK news, the nub of the issue neatly summed up by Times’ columnist Melanie Philips:

“In the great tsunami of grievances unleashed by the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, the latest one to wash over us is a meta-grievance, a grievance about grievances. They are now complaining that the family hasn’t acknowledged their complaints, apologised and sought reconciliation. Let’s get our heads around this. They have shown gross disrespect to the late Queen and reportedly upset her while nearing the end of her life. They have accused the royal household of racism, cruelty and indifference with no evidence to back up such claims and with numerous examples of demonstrable falsehoods or distortions. They have monetised their royal brand while disdaining and trashing its obligations. They have produced an interminable spiteful scream of jealousy, narcissism and rage with the intention to hurt and destroy. Yet now they expect the royal family to apologise to them?”

She has a certain turn of phrase, does Ms Philips, and personally think here she’s spot on.

I don’t think our Queen’s death on 8^th September was exactly unexpected, given that she was 96 and had lived a full life. Other names that jump out of the Obituary lists for 2022 are people like Meat Loaf (75 – I’ll Do Anything for Love), Olivia Newton-John (74 – Grease), Dennis Waterman (74 – The Sweeney), Hilary Mantel (70 – Wolf Hall), Robbie Coltrane (72 – Cracker), Mikhail Gorbachev (91- Glasnost), Ivana Trump (73 ex-wife of ex-US President), Sidney Poitier (95 – Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner), Madelaine Albright (85 – US Secretary of State and Kinder Transport survivor), David Trimble (78 – Northern Ireland politician and Nobel Prize winner), Christine McVie (79 – Fleetwood Mac vocalist), Bamber Gascoigne (87 – Host of University Challenge for 25 years) ,Jerry Lee Lewis (87 – Honky Tonk pianist), Pelé (82 – Football’s greatest hero) and Vivienne Westwood (81 – Grand Dame of Fashion)  – the comments in brackets just a memory-jog! 

Sunday will be 1st January 2023, New Year’s Day, unless you are Chinese, whose New Lunar Year (the Year of The Rabbit) will fall on the 22^nd January (Note 2). In Cantonese you could say “Gong hei fat choy” and in Mandarin “Xīnnián hăo”. If you’re Jewish you’d probably say ‘Rosh Hashanah’ and an Arab ‘sunuh jadidah saeiduh’.

But here in the editorial offices of Post Card Scribbles, it’s definitely:

“Happy New Year”.

Richard 30^th December 2022

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS Celina and I both tested positive for Covid over the Christmas period; the festivities got cancelled. My Christmas ribbon on our internal front door could have been taken to read: “Keep Out! The Plague!”

PPS In my last PC, 23^rd December A story, I mentioned Amanda the Shepherdess.  Recently a lexicographer estimated the average peasant in C19th used about 250 words. In a letter to The Times, Alison Brackenbury suggested her Victorian shepherd ancestor used about 250 words ‘just about sheep’.

Note 1 Coincidence: ‘A remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent causal connection.’

Note 2 It falls on the second new moon after the Winter Solstice 21^st December