fiction

PC 453 Travelling in August

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It’s Sod’s Law (Note 1) that it’s only after you leave for the airport for your flight, the airline texts you to say there’s a delay. Fortunately for us going to Lisbon last week, it was only an hour. My mother-in-law and Toni, returning to Portugal after a retreat in France in July, were told of a nine-hour delay in their TAP flight as they were in the taxi from their Parisian hotel to Orly Airport. Nothing one can do ….. just shrug ….. and resign oneself to a little more time to browse the airside shops ….. have another coffee ….. or debate whether paying for the use of an airport lounge is worth it …. if indeed there is space!

Having checked in, we accept the offer of a printed Boarding Pass, despite having downloaded it earlier; sometimes it’s just easier than searching for it in one’s smartphone – did I add it to my Wallet, takes a screenshot or is it still in my email? I am aware there’s been an international standardisation of the size of a passport, so why isn’t the boarding pass the same size?

A tall chap in Baggage Security asked whether I had any fruit in my backpack; given that his shift had started at 0300, he was remarkably alert! He’d smiled when he’d seen Francisquinha, who always travels with her front paws, ears and head out of my yellow backpack, but needed to delve down into all the stuff you pop in at the last minute. Actually in this case the chemical sensors had noticed the four Conference pears I was taking out to Portugal, to make an Upside-down Pear Cake for the family birthday. Establishing they were genuine, we repacked and went to get something to eat on the plane for lunch.

Regular readers may remember that, in my last visit to the Hope Café, Sami had quoted something from one of Mick Herron’s Slow Horses series: “But Catherine’s journey had been more moving staircase than slippery slope; a slow downwards progression. Looking across at the people heading upwards and wondering if that was a better idea. But somehow knowing she’d have to reach the bottom before she could change direction.” At London Gatwick’s South Terminal, there seemed plenty of people on the Up escalator who looked as they weren’t sure where they wanted to be …. and vica versa! And mid-morning in August, it’s constant, this stream of potential airline passengers, going up, coming down, mingling, stopping, gapping, talking, confused and occasionally running in the direction of a departure gate as if they’ve remembered why they were there in the first place.

With more time to kill than usual, we explored some of the shops, wondering whether the prices were better than on the High Street or just hiked for those in urgent need to find something they realised they had forgotten to pack. The salesgirl in Superdry said they sold lots of the latter!

I got another espresso and we found a spare place to sit. On the bench next to us was a young man selling some App over his laptop. It’s hard not to lend half an ear ….. and when he’d finished I asked him about it. It was an app that allowed you to view the layout of a restaurant in 3D, so you could select a table – not too close to the kitchens, or loos, or main entrance perhaps. It cost you 10% of your bill – the restaurant kept 50%, the app developers 50%. Sounded interesting – if you eat out a lot in swanky expensive places!

But in some ways I was more interested in him, just buzzing with energy and life. He, a Spaniard living in Dubai, and his friend had just finished ‘A’ Levels at Wellington College (Note 2); they were flying to Sweden. Good to chat to young people with an obvious zest for life ….. when you know that, sadly, a huge proportion of young adults in the UK are on some form of benefits.

Despite the fact I’ve written over four hundred and fifty postcards, I still occasionally struggle with being grammatically correct, often ignoring a Microsoft prompt if I feel it sounds better! A great believer in grammar reflecting society’s trends! I have got better with spelling but not immune to an incorrect word getting through my editor’s reread ….. and reread! I love the comments my scribbles engender, even if they’re critical of my writing; never too late to learn so, please, keep them coming, even if they’re a little pedantic.

One of the joys of an August holiday is you get more time to read, if that’s your bailiwick; it’s certainly mine. I enjoy the novels of American Michael Connelly, such as his Lincoln Lawyer series or the thrillers featuring detective Harry Bosch. At the weekend I finished his latest, ‘Nightshade’. Being a bit of a pedant (!) I wrote to his website:

“There are some interesting differences in English and American English. For instance, we ‘go for a ride’ whereas you would say we are going for a ‘horseback ride’! And I don’t think we use the term ‘sailboat’, preferring dinghy, yacht and motorboat. As far as yachts are concerned, in ‘Nightshade’ there was reference to a ketch. Not sure whether the main character was deliberately unaware of nautical nomenclature (?) but by definition a ketch is a two-masted yacht, the smaller mast, called a Mizzen, stepped forward of the rudder. The other two-masted yacht is a yawl, where the smaller mast is stepped aft of the rudder, with its boom often overhanging the stern of the yacht. A single masted yacht can be referred to as a sloop. I read that Michael doesn’t read emails …… so do with this information what you want!”

His PA Jane replied saying she would pass on my email to Michael. I obviously hope the great man will reply personally!

Richard 22nd August 2025

Estoril Portugal

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 Another term for Murphy’s Law, which states that if something can go wrong, it will.

Note 2 ‘A’ Levels and Alaska are this week’s common words

PC 451 A Quick Hope Café Visit

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PC 451 A Quick Hope Café Visit

Back from two weeks in Portugal and then out again; it’s as if the two weeks here is like being on holiday, then Portugal becomes ‘home’. An odd sensation – but a nice one just the same. Managed to spend an hour on Monday afternoon in the Hope Café; the day when an unseasonal storm, Storm Floris, battered the northern half of Great Britain, with winds of 70 mph plus. Summer storms can pay havoc when the trees are in full leaf, as they offer more resistance to the wind and are prone to come crashing down!

Mo waves as she spies me at the counter; she looks a little sad, so I join her with my double espresso.

“You’re a bit down, Mo. Everything alright?

“It’s my mother, Richard. You remember she lives in a retirement home in Worthing? She’s 93 and she’s caught shingles. She didn’t have the vaccine some years ago and she suffering; so debilitating, a very painful rash.”

“It’s the same virus that causes Chickenpox, isn’t it? In Portugal they call it Herpes Zoster and it can reactivate in the body. Mario, a taxi driver we often use in Estoril, had it …… and then my sister-in-law, soon to be 44, also caught it. Fortunately, the antiviral treatment clears it up relatively quickly. Your poor mother.”

“Anyway, nothing we can do! You look well; how was Portugal?”

“Great! For me it’s a time to read a lot more, as well as walking and writing. Sounds idyllic huh!”

“Indeed, it does. Did you watch the football, the Women’s Euros 2025 at all?”

“I have a funny relationship with sport. I avidly watch the Six Nations Rugby fixtures, never normally watch football. Perversely I do follow the fortunes of our local Brighton & Hove Albion football team but more from my interest in its management and player development than the actual game! However, I am aware of the exponential rise in women’s football, of our national team The Lionesses, and how they were defending their Euros title. So, yes, I watched the final.”

“But you were in Portugal on 27th July and you wouldn’t have been able to follow the commentary as your knowledge of the language is crap! And anyway, Portugal would have been supporting Spain, so the pundits would have been biased. I watched it here but what did you do?”

 “I needed to find out how to watch an UK television channel abroad. I subscribe to Nord VPN (Virtual Private Network), so fooled the system by connecting to one of their hubs in Scotland. Then onto the BBC1 channel. The connection occasionally dropped out and I prayed that wasn’t when a goal was being scored! So, then it’s 1-1 after extra time and it’s the penalty shootout. The first English ball went into the back of the net but was disallowed as the striker slipped; must be a new rule! You understand I watched the game as its important for all sorts of reasons but have no knowledge of the players’ names or even some of the rules. Then someone called Chloe Kelly comes to the penalty spot, knowing that if she’s successful, it’s game over and England have won. Just as she steps back to take the kick, a banner headline comes across my iPad: “England have won Euros 2025”. I guess the broadcast I was watching had a time delay of a second or three!! Technology huh!”

“Ah! But well done them. I remember, Richard, you’ve sailed a lot, so you must have been interested in the coverage of Cowes Week, The Admiral’s Cup competition and the Fastnet Race?”

“Absolutely! Raced in Cowes Week many years ago but never competed in The Fastnet Race; my father did, in 1935 in a yacht called Amy.”

‘Amy’ Fastnet 1935

“Wow! And this year was its 100th run. Forgive my ignorance but what exactly is The Fastnet?”

“They leave Cowes, head down the English Channel, round the Bishop’s Rock lighthouse and head to the Fastnet Rock on the southern tip of Eire. Originally they headed back to Plymouth but for the last two races they’ve finished in Cherbourg in France. It’s about 690 miles long and used to take the winners over 5 days.”

“And this year?”

“The trimaran SVR Lazartigue was first over the finish line in 1day and 17 hours. It’s more like flying than sailing; averaging 15 knots with some runs at over 30 knots! The technology is amazing!

SVR Lazartigue rounding the Fastnet Rock and its lighthouse

Ordinary monohulled yachts took longer! ‘Black Jack’ took line honours in 2 days and 12 hours.”

“No regrets about not taking part?”

“No! But I did race from Tenerife to Bermuda one year and that was another story! (See PC 161 The Atlantic Sept 2019) Mo; must go and catch up with Sami, so see you when you’re back from France huh!”

I get another coffee and join Sami. Sami doesn’t waste time.

“I think you were having a go at those who decide the easy way to control their weight is by having these injections ……”

“Yes  …….”

“Well, in my scrap book I found this delightful cartoon – and cartoons that hit the spot are so clever.”

“Actually, the debate continues. NICE (Note 1) says that those coming off weight-loss drugs will, without the right support, simply put the weight back on.”

“OK! Incidentally your rabbit amuses me! I see that she got her passport stamped again when you came back from Portugal!”

“Yes. Although the Border Force lady asked her to look at her so she could compare her passport photograph! She can be very coy so she had to compose herself before she did”

“As I said, she amuses me!”

Richard 8th August 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS Happy Birthday to my first cousin Caroline in Nanaimo on Vancouver Island and to my brother-in-law Carlos in Estoril, Portugal.

Note 1 The National Institute for Health and Care Excellence.

PC 447 Books & Hope

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Sounds a little like the name for a firm of family solicitors, ‘Books & Hope’, doesn’t it, but Duncan thought it brought together those who wanted to simply have a coffee and a chat, and those for whom a good book is an essential accompaniment to a tasteful coffee or herbal tea, with a delicious pastry from Teresa’s Brazilian delicatessen counter of course!

There’s been a great deal in the news about schemes in the UK encouraging more individuals of every age to read. ‘Reading should be accessible to everyone, whether English is a second language, literacy is a challenge, or life has simply made it difficult to maintain the habit. The written word is the foundation of so much of our culture and ensuring more people can engage with it will have a far-reaching impact.” says creative director of the charity The Reading Agency Shanz Gulzar. Reading fiction fires the imagination; one’s person’s pictorial setting of a story is different from another’s. Just like watching the film of a book one’s thoroughly enjoyed, only to find the director’s take is theirs and not yours! Non-fiction, biographies, historical accounts, whatever, broadens one’s knowledge.

To be able to enjoy the written word you need to be able to read. Adult illiteracy is not uncommon; Bombardier Broad, one of my men in a Royal Artillery regiment in Germany in 1974, struggled to read. Getting help for him was essential for his developing career and personal confidence.

On Tuesday a news item caught my attention. ‘Some children are reaching Secondary School with a reading age of 5!’ It went on to suggest some of the reasons, one being the Covid-enforced lockdown and for some its traumatic effect. And we can all understand the huge impact game-playing on digital devices has; time that might have been used to get inside a good book. Interestingly nowhere in the discussion were parents mentioned. It’s as if we have collective amnesia as to the responsibilities that come with having children. Some see criticism of parents as a sensitive issue, maybe linked to labels like deprivation and poverty, single parents and lack of education. Personally I think a national drive to improve parenting skills and responsibilities would have a big impact, as too often it’s our schools that must cope with children who haven’t been taught the very basics, poor sods!

But then was a parting comment by one of the interviewees, that here in the United Kingdom, 1 in 5 children do not attend school regularly; twenty percent! So the poor sods don’t get what help there is by being absent! This might be a topic for another postcard, but in a First World country this is disgraceful.

Despite the proliferation of digital reading devices and the advantages of such when weight is a factor, travelling for instance, the popularity of physical books, either hardback or paperback, has not diminished. Last week for instance the Number One slot in the Sunday Times Bestsellers, fictional and factual, totalled 40,000 sold books.

I met Duncan in his new venture next door to The Hope Café, which quietly opened its doors last month. I sense ‘Books’ is going to take a while to get established; good places often do, but the book shop’s association and co-location with The Hope Café will ensure there’s lots of crossflow. Just sitting and having a coffee with a good friend will often prompt a ‘I must buy a card for great aunt Maud, she’ll appreciate it no end; back in a sec’, sort of action. (note 1) I knew Mo was going to be working there three afternoons a week and sure enough she was there on Tuesday. She was already busy and no chance to chat, mouthing ‘talk later’ as she served a customer, so I meander back into The Hope Café and find Sami, looking cross.

Regular readers will recall Sami’s history with the Post Office, falsely accused of stealing money from one of his two Post Offices and being made bankrupt. He’s moved on, accepted the £600,000 compensation that was, at one time, on offer, formed a great relationship with Lisa Wallace, a journalist and writer from Derbyshire, and put it behind him. It doesn’t of course prevent him from taking a keen interest in how the issue of compensation is being handled.

“Don’t you just love weasel words Richard?” asks Sami, pouring over an article from last Saturday’s Times.

Over his shoulder I can read the headline – ‘345 Horizon victims have died before getting a payout.’ Sami read the preamble: ‘Close to six years after the scandal was exposed by a High Court judge, more than 3700 postmasters have yet to receive compensation. Thousands of sub-postmasters were wrongly blamed for financial losses as a result of the Horizon computer system. More than 900 were prosecuted and 236 sent to prison.’ Then the drivel:

‘The Post Office says it is an absolute priority for us and the government that all victims of the Horizon scandal receive full redress as quickly as possible”.

On 8th July Sir Wyn Williams, chair of the public inquiry, published the first part of his report, focusing on compensation and the human impact of what is believed to be the one of the biggest miscarriages of justice in UK history. The second report, establishing what happened and who is to blame, may not be published until 2026, suggesting any criminal trials may not start until 2028. (Note 2)

As an outsider, I read this and think, couldn’t someone just say: “Pay them NOW, this week, don’t quibble about certain aspects of the claim, and close this sorry, sorry episode.” Both the Post Office and HMG could fix this this month.

Richard 11th July 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 On reflection they may not, given that a First Class postage stamp now costs £1.70.

Note 2 The United Kingdom justice system is, frankly, in crisis. There are some 77,000 cases awaiting their time in court, stretching the search for and resolution of justice to incredulity. There’s an average wait of two to three years for a case to come to court. For both parties, accused and victims, that’s cruel.

PC 443 ‘ere in the ‘ope!

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PC 443 ‘ere in the ‘ope!

Almost a month has gone by since I was last in the Hope Café and it was good to be back in its familiar surroundings. As I was getting a double espresso I put a little card on the counter, with Josh’s permission of course! It read:

‘If you have a favourite quote about the ear, would you come across and tell me? Richard’

I have scribbled about teeth (see PCs 64 & 66 Molars and Wisdom March 2016) and eyes (see PC 94 Sight and Eyes April 2017) but not, surprisingly, about one’s ears. So why now, I sense you ask. After my food poisoning and virus infection, I managed to develop an inner ear problem which affected my balance big time.

The diagnosis is Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo (BPPV – see note 1), which causes short periods of intense dizziness or vertigo when the head is moved in certain directions. It’s thought to be caused by tiny solid fragments in the inner ear labyrinth. Who knew?

So a quick revision. The ear:

The inner ear includes the cochlea, responsible for one’s hearing, and those ‘semi-circular canals’. These are small shell-like structures containing narrow fluid-filled channels called the labyrinth. They sit in the three planes, two horizontal and one vertical. Just like in a gyroscope, small movements send signals to the brain, essentially telling it which way is up!

“In your shell-like ear – having a quiet word with someone – but a poetic simile comparing the shape of the outside of an ear to that of a shell” Sami’s contribution

BPPV can be treated by a series of simple exercises devised by Brandt and Daroff. I assume these two are doctors specialising in the ear, but nowhere could I find out more details!

This is the first time I’ve had an ear problem, apart from the frequent removal of wax and temporary deafness caused by being near a loud noise. I spend twenty years in the Royal Artillery; being near a field gun firing a shell with a large charge can be instantaneously deafening. In my early years no one had ear-deafeners and the joke was we all had Gunner-ear (just say that out loud!).

The King, who is Captain General of the Royal Artillery, having just fired a L118 Light Gun on a visit to RSA Larkhill. Wearing Ear Defenders of course! (Photo Times)

I know I shouldn’t, but I love using a cotton bud to keep my ears wax-free. There’s something very satisfying about carefully digging around and this reminds me of something else. In my military service it was vitally important to keep one’s weapon clean. Getting rid of explosive residue in its barrel required a ‘pull-through’; a cord with a weight at one end and a little slit at the other, into which you could thread a piece of ‘four by two’, a strip of cloth 4 inches by 2 inches. Drop the weighted end into the barrel, pull it through and hey presto the barrel was spotless. Sometimes I think it would be good to insert one into one’s ear and pull it through the mush inside; a sort-of brain cleaner! Or you could use this Chinese ear vacuum cleaner?

Kay our masseuse swears by the benefits of using an ear candle to get rid of wax. In for a penny, in for a pound; I tried it. She’s very good and some wax came out. But the general consensus amongst health professionals is that you don’t need to remove it at all, as it’s beneficial!

One of my yoga teachers, Carrie, said her father often massages his ears using the QiGong technique. The Chinese believe that the ear has Qi energy connections with the whole body. I have scant knowledge of Chinese medical traditions, although had a few sessions of acupuncture a decade ago. Apparently, the outside of the ear, its ridge, connects with the spine, the lobes the liver and heart, and the inner part with the kidneys and lungs. So go on, get massaging. I also read that a study in China found that those who wore dangly earrings lived longer than others. I must try and find a suitable pair.

Most of the sayings about ‘ears’ are to do with hearing. On cue, Lisa comes over and offers: “Friends, Romans and countrymen, lend me your ears. I come to bury Caeser not to praise him.” Everybody should recognise these first lines from Mark Antony’s speech in Shakespeare’s Julius Caeser.

The statistics tell me that one in three adults in the UK have some form of hearing loss, tinnitus or are deaf. In a recent TV drama, ‘Code of Silence’, one of the main characters was played by Rose Ayling-Ellis, deaf since birth and a user of British Sign Language. Good to see those with disabilities getting major roles.

Mo, who’s sitting at a table close by, leans over with a piece of paper: ‘The War of Jenkin’s Ear’. Ah! Yes, I know about this, fought by Great Britain and Spain between 1739 and 1748. Most of the fighting took place in the Caribbean. The name derives from Robert Jenkins, a British captain whose ear was allegedly severed in April 1731by Spanish coastguards searching his ship for contraband. It’s commemorated annually on the last Saturday in May at the Wormsloe Plantation in Savannah Georgia.  

Duncan gives me three: “I’m all ears”, “In one ear, out the other” and “playing it by ear”.

Anna, who’s been listening, comes across in her wheelchair; “How about – ‘Walls have ears’? That was World War 2, but it’s not new! In 1645 a poet wrote: ‘For the halls of our masters have ears and hear, and the walls of the palace have eyes and watch.’”

And the free coffee goes to Robert, who came up with “‘ere in the ‘ope”! (Note 2). I loved his play on ‘ear’ and here!

Richard 13th June 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS No mention of ‘cauliflower’ ears!

Note 1 Benign – not serious; Paroxysmal – symptoms come and go without warning; Positional – certain positions of the head trigger symptoms; Vertigo – you feel unsteady on your feet, a little like being at sea on a ship.

Note 2 ‘aitch-dropping’ is the deletion of the ‘voiceless glottal fricative’ (H-sound). It’s common in most English regions, but often seen as a sign of uneducated speech, due to its strong association with the lower class.

PC 429 Behind the Glass

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I don’t know about you, but I am often intrigued to know what goes on behind shop fronts that have frosted windows. They are the complete opposite of those using the shop window to entice potential customers, displaying something to make you want to go inside, maybe a poster showing a sale percentage reduction. Sometimes restaurants have an opaque window to give their customers some privacy and it’s the same for The Hove Practice, a private GPs’ surgery, which recently moved onto Church Road. Along the street is a massage clinic, with the obligatory hazy windows! We are lucky enough to have Kay Delphine, a very experienced masseuse, who comes to our apartment, otherwise we might have used one of these places. Some had a seedy reputation, offering more than a simple massage, but I sense those days have long gone.

Opposite etch (note 1), a restaurant on the corner of Church Road and Hove Street run by Steven Edwards, a winner of MasterChef The Professionals, is one such place. A non-descript opaque window with its shop signage, ‘CryoBright’, offering no real clue to what goes on inside.

A voucher at Christmas gave us a couple of ‘experiences’ at CryoBright and in late January we pushed open the door. CryoBright provides ‘convenient, affordable access to the most advanced wellness and recovery techniques.’ These include an infrared sauna, red light therapy, fat freezing, leg compression therapy, physiotherapy, whole body cryotherapy and massage, mainly aimed at those recovering from some form of sports injury, which I am not! I was interested in the leg compression trousers, to improve blood circulation to my feet, and in the cold chamber – out of curiosity!

The ‘Compression’ trousers slide over your legs then go through a 20-second sequence of inflate/deflate, inflate/deflate for 20 minutes. It seems very gentle, too gentle almost and so I decide to concentrate on the cold chamber.

The idea is that extreme cold acts as a stimulus to your nervous system, particularly to the hypothalamus, responsible for reacting to dangerous situations; the ‘fight or flight’ trigger. It initiates several physiological reactions in the body, the main one being to restrict blood flow to the periphery, concentrating it around one’s vital organs.  

I said I am curious. Most of my experience of ‘cold’ is from winter weather, either skiing or on military exercises many years ago, when the wind chill can drop temperatures alarmingly. I am a pussy when it comes to swimming in a cold sea, such as in Estoril in Portugal, but the benefits of cold-water immersion are becoming more mainstream. Here in Hove many people swim in the sea all the year around, part of their daily routine, and swear by the invigorating afterglow. (Note 2) I guess we’ve all heard of Dutchman Wim Hof, aka the Iceman. In addition to plunging himself, and other paying customers, into freezing cold water, he markets a particular technique of breathing. Proper breathing is an essential part of practising yoga; in the hot yoga series you only breathe through your nose for the first hour.

My Wim Hof T Shirt

Hof’s technique involves inhaling through your nose or mouth, filling both belly and chest, and exhaling through your mouth. Each breath should be short and powerful; do 30 to 40 then stop. We all take our lungs for granted, never bothering to exercise them – it’s estimated we only use some 60% of our lung capacity. And I certainly hadn’t heard of COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease) until those first COVID months. In summary, I breathe well but wouldn’t want to plunge myself into a bath full of ice. (Note 3)

But when we returned from Portugal in September last year, a new cold-water shower, installed in the outer courtyard as part of the yoga studio’s new sauna offering, offered an opportunity to cool down quickly. Now, at the end of my 90 minutes 40°C hot yoga class, I go straight out and have a cold shower. Strangely, I have begun to look forward to it; odd huh! It’s wonderful!

At CryoBright, Rob explains that the cold chamber is designed to give your body a thermal shock so, wearing shorts, a facemask, gloves, socks and slippers and with a set of headphones clamped around my ears, I open the door and enter. Oh! I should have said, it’s minus 85C. I have opted for 4 minutes but after 5 seconds my brain is already saying ‘fly!’. Fortunately, I decide to stay, moving around, glancing at the large clock on an iPad outside that’s counting down the four minutes, listening to music. I wonder how my body is reacting, why my nipples are feeling particularly cold, and resist the temptation to focus on the time. Just enjoy the experience. Outside, I put my clothes back on; my back is tingling in a delicious way and I feel fantastic. We sign up for a package of sessions; this Monday was my eighth and now I look forward to freezing my b******* off!

Our curiosity has encouraged chums to try it. Spread the word!

Richard 7th March 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS Celina also enjoys the cold chamber!

Note 1 Note the small ‘e’. Generally the first word of a sentence uses a capitalised first letter. There’s a distinction between ‘Etch’ and ‘etch’, although it’s personal! As a verb, to etch means to eat away the surface of something; I can only guess this is the tenuous connection for the title of the restaurant.

Note 2 In the summer of 1966, as an Officer Cadet at Sandhurst, I was attached to a Germany-based Artillery Battery for its two weeks Adventure Training near Oberammergau. I went with Staff Sergeant Curtis to recce a lake for some canoeing. The water looked inviting; he suggested I jump in. It was absolutely freezing, almost heart-stopping (!) and I got out as quickly as I had got in! Curtis laughed.

Note 3 The outdoor swimming pool water at Dauntsey’s School was fed directly from a cold spring. Maybe our lap times were quick as we wanted to get out as soon as possible.

PC 427 Hope Conversations

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I had promised Libby I would offer what support I could after she’d confided in Josh and me that she’d been Love Scammed. Knowing she’d be finishing her Barista duty behind the Hope Café counter mid-afternoon on Tuesday, I popped in, grabbed a double espresso from Josh, and joined Libby at one of the more secluded tables.

“Good to see you Richard and I think talking about my experience will help put it behind me. It knocked my confidence so much and has made be both more anxious and also more suspicious of other people, and that’s horrible.”

“Jim died a few years ago, right?

“Dear Jim. Yes. We’d had some wonderful times, then he had a heart attack and died in his chair, watching some trashy Soap on telly. He was only 68.”

“Well, I think that’s a good way to check out, rather than in a hospital bed or in some smelly care home. Then you came to join Duncan’s team here?”

“Gives me an opportunity to engage with the customers; some are delightfully chatty and when Susie was here. (Note 1) I felt like I had another family. But it was lonely at home, so when Andrew, never sure it was his real name, made contact via Facebook, I answered. He claimed to have known Jim through work ….. and soon we were texting quite regularly. Over a few weeks I began to look forward to his messages, telling me of his time in the Army, of his divorce and his sad estrangement from his three children. He made out he’d been the victim in the divorce, had lost so much and was now struggling financially. My heart went out to him, how his story of loneliness resonated with mine. We all need the company of others, right?

“Absolutely Libby. I’ve had periods in my own life when I have felt very lonely, others when I am surrounded by people, people whom I trust and love. Don’t tell me, Andrew asked for some money, like a friend’s brother David? A 61-year-old divorcee, he was sucked into believing that Tatiana from Leningrad was in love with him; he took the bait, ‘hook, line and sinker’! She couldn’t wait to come to England but first needed, oh! I can’t remember, money for her grandmother’s operation, a new passport, to buy the flights that she kept putting off. Eventually she hoodwinked him out of £30,000. Apparently there is still a hesitation in David’s mind that Tatiana exists, that she loves him!”   

“Exactly! Silly isn’t it! I’ve thought how could educated people be so stupid, and yet here I was sending money to his UK bank account, so he could pay the outstanding solicitor’s bill of £750. I had some savings and I imagined our relationship would be strengthened; maybe he would finally meet me.”

“So what happened? What made you realise it was a scam?”

“He said he was going to take me to Rome for a long weekend to say Thank You. He gave me all the details, flight timings, the name of the hotel and so on. Then he admitted he didn’t have a credit card and the hotel needed one for security. Oh! Why oh why! I gave him the card details and the security number and arranged to meet him at Check-in at Gatwick Airport on the Friday afternoon.”

“And he never showed? And he used your credit card? Oh! Libby I am so sorry.”

“Exactly! I felt so let down, cried all the way back to Hove in the taxi and tried to stop my credit card being used fraudulently. He took £15,000. The bank said I had given him my details and there was little it could do. (Note 2) There! Now I have told someone it feels better, so thank you Richard. The more people who know the less others will fall for these scams. Now I had better say goodbye to Josh and get on with my day. See you soon.”

I see Sami munching on a croissant so go and say hello.

“Haven’t got long, but thought I could tell you a recent experience.”

“Why not, Richard. If it’s quick.”

“Had to laugh the other day, both at myself and with Sandra, the Tesco member of staff. Although we naturally use Waitrose for our online weekly shop, there is a large Tesco’s supermarket a 5-minute walk away, opposite St Andrew’s Church in central Hove, which is handy for those few things you need right now. My regular but infrequent visits prompted me to apply online for a Tesco Clubcard, on the basis it costs me nothing and would occasionally reduce the bill at check-out. I downloaded it to my Wallet on my iPhone and on Monday thought I would try it out.

Arriving at the self-service checkout, I scanned my three items, opened the Wallet App, found the Tesco logo and presented the QR Code to the scanner. “We do not recognise this.” was its response. So I tried again ….. and got the same result. Whilst the supermarket wasn’t busy so I wasn’t holding up anyone, Sandra, who was just clearing empty plastic baskets, asked whether she could help. I explained I had never used my Clubcard before but …. and she took my iPhone and showed it to the scanner …. and got the same result. She then looked at my Wallet. The Tesco Clubcard QR Code was hiding behind an old Covid Travel Pass, which had expired in December 2021. We had a laugh.”

“Actually, that is funny Richard. Now, see you ….”

Richard 21st February 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 Susie is Libby’s niece. After time in The Hope Café, Susie took a late Gap Year for six months in New Zealand and Australia before coming home to do a course in logistics.

Note 2 Victims of Romance Fraud lost more than £7 million in over 600 cases in Surrey and Sussex last year.

PC 422 Back in The Hope Café

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After a couple of postcards that, on reflection, were quite serious in content, I needed to relax a little, so headed to The Hope Café for some R&R (Note 1). With a pastry and double espresso in hand, I found a corner table and sat … and relaxed … and observed. Such a great pastime, watching other people living, doing, engaging, focused; fortunately, most people who are here in The Hope Café come to meet others or just get some relaxation, some space away from their hectic life outside. Well, most; apart from our budding novelist Robert, who is tapping away on his laptop at the window counter, lost in his own world of fictional stories and subplots and characterisation. He gets the best of both worlds, working with headphones clamped over his ears listening to a podcast or music, whilst absorbing the café’s ambience and warmth by a process of osmosis!

 I guess we’ve all noticed a very modern trend; where acquaintances get around a restaurant table, order some food and drinks and then get their mobiles out and catch up with their social media lives and have no conversations IRL (in real life).  It doesn’t happen here in The Hope.

I was struggling with one of The Times’ hard Killer Sudokus, which I do on a daily basis as it keeps the grey matter well oiled, when I had a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see Mo. Pleased, I motioned to her to sit down.

“Listen, Richard; I bet you had a lot of comments about your last scribbles about the Cancel Culture. (PC 421 Not the Way to Go January 2025). I thought you did a great job, highlighting this very real issue. It’s awful and a very worrying state of affairs, especially for those with low self-esteem. The new ‘being sent to Coventry’, perhaps; used to mean deliberately ostracising them, by not talking to them and acting as though they no longer exist. Sounds about right?” (Note 2)

“I got a lot of reaction, yes, but all rather sad, huh! One friend whom we met in the Portslade yoga studio has two sons in their early twenties. The older one did a Video Gaming course at university; “Bullied online over the last few days. Really awful; impacted his physical and emotional well-being; seems as though younger people are losing their kindness and the ability to discuss differences openly and curiously without judgment; he had to remove himself from one gaming group.”

“You may have read about 66-year-old Martin Speake, who taught jazz for 22 years at the Trinity Laban Conservatoire in London?”

“Not a name that rings any bells. Tell me more?”

“It’s a complex story with many nuances but in essence when Speake was asked for feedback on the school’s equality and diversity policy, he said he didn’t agree that black musicians were discriminated against in the UK’s jazz scene (Note 3). Martin Speake is white. His response was ‘shared’, his classes were boycotted …. and he was eventually forced to resign. It was claimed by a student that his email has made black musicians feel unsafe at Trinity. He believes that students are treated like customers so they’re in charge but they don’t have the maturity to know what they are doing; ‘they have destroyed my life’.”

“That’s such a sad reflection on the world in which we live. We can only hope that common sense will return. By the way, I know you read The Times; did you see the obituary of Cherry Hill?”

“Never heard of her, no.”

“She was a prize-winning model maker, who spent a lifetime creating elaborate scaled-down versions of Victorian traction engines and other machines, some of which had not even been built at full size.”

“And why are you mentioning her?”

“Because I was astounded by her skill and attention to detail. I took this screen shot of her model of a Blackburn agricultural engine of 1857:

“Wow! That’s incredible. Incidentally, you asked whether I had lots of comments about my last PC. Yes, but PCs 417 and 419 (Have you Read …) were equally popular. One of my readers, Priscilla Goslin, author of ‘How to Be a Carioca’ (Note 4), not only passed them on to one of her adult sons, who has ‘difficulty of letting go of past disappointments’, but also admitted to having copy of Zen Flesh Zen Bones: ‘on my shelf forever. I’ve never known anyone who had it! I can still recite a few of the stories.’ Priscilla lives 50/50 in Brazil and the USA.

Before I go, Mo, I thought you would be amused at my recent stupidity. We get so used to doing things online that when someone I know said they were going to see an acupuncturist, I immediately asked: “Is that online or are you going to their practice? Bye ….”

Good to chat!  

Richard 17th January 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 R&R is an abbreviation for Rest & Recuperation, a term I first came across in 1973. Halfway through our four-month operational tour in Londonderry, Northern Ireland, we had three days ‘R&R’. Those soldiers who were married flew back home to Germany, those who were single flew to the UK mainland. After living in a heightened state of alert for weeks, it was weird and strange to re-enter ‘normal life’, even for a few days.

Note 2 The phrase may date from the English Civil War (August 1642 – September 1951) when Coventry had a military prison. Others suggest it dates from the C18th when Coventry was the nearest town to London that lay outside the jurisdiction of the Bow Street Runners, so London criminals would flee there to escape arrest.

Note 3 Probably some ‘tick box’ survey.

Note 4. An international best seller since 1992, this is a humorous look at what makes up one of the world’s most colourful characters – the Carioca, a resident of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

PC 415 More thoughts for The Times’ Letters

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I have been an avid reader of The Times ever since they offered a discount to schoolboys back in the 1960s. During my military career the mid-morning coffee break in the Officers Mess was an opportunity to skim other papers, for example The Telegraph or Guardian, or those known as the Red Tops, like The Sun and The Mirror, which did indeed have a red banner headline for more salacious gossip. But I have always enjoyed The Times for its balanced views and now read it digitally. ‘Letters to The Editor’ have featured in my postcards, firstly in July 2022 (PC 292 Dear Sir (1)) and secondly PC 317 Dear Sir (2) in January 2023.

Other attempts to get published have all met with disappointment, although the comments might amuse you and, in an uncharacteristic moment of not having many postcards in draft form, I hope that these will suffice.

Twenty years ago, in the month of May, I wrote:

“I hope I am not alone in being flabbergasted by the clearance yesterday of the tube driver for playing squash whilst on sick leave. Even before his dismissal by London Underground, his appalling employment record, a day off every week for 5 years, suggests he will milk the ‘system’ as much as he can. Yesterday was a victory for the workshy, the uncommitted, the jokers – and sadly says a great deal about the culture of our Public Services.”

In 2013, I wrote about the NHS Health Check and its validity:

“Three months ago, in June, my local GP surgery suggested by text I had a free NHS Health Check Up and I duly booked an appointment. Although surprised that this health MOT didn’t inspect my eyes or my teeth, I was more than pleased to be told, after being checked for this and that, that I was fit and healthy with an 83% chance of not having a heart attack. Now, two months after a triple heart Bypass, I muse that someone must be in the 17%!”

In November 2014, an observation about business:

“Sir. One of the marks of a great leader is their ability to develop talent in both breadth and depth in their organisation, so much so that when they depart, there is no lasting ripple on the surface. Despite being awarded Veuve Clicquot Businesswoman of the Year, Harriet Green is clearly not in the category of a great leader, as the share price of Thomas Cook dropped 18% on the announcement of her departure.”

Suranne Jones

In May 2016 I was prompted to put pen-to-paper, well not literally these days, but fingertips-to-keyboard doesn’t have the same ring:

“Sir. On the front page of Monday’s Times (9th May) you carried a photograph of Mark Rylance who had been given the BAFTA (Note 1) for the leading actor. Inside you showed a photograph of Suranne Jones, who was BAFTA’s leading actress. Did someone toss a coin to determine who went on the front page or was it yet another example of continuing sexism throughout our society?

28 April 2017

“Appearance is everything. We have got used in recent years to seeing both terrorists and anti-terrorist forces hiding their faces with balaclavas or headdresses of some sort. A rather sinister frightening impression is given by this tendency, understandable for those perpetrating the terror but not for those acting to stop it. So it’s hugely refreshing to see those anti-terrorist police in Whitehall yesterday, bare headed and unmasked ……. proud of the role they undertake on our behalf.”

Couldn’t find the exact photograph but you take my point?

In the same year I wrote about ‘Modern Times’, prompted by a visit to a GP’s surgery.

“Sir, I secured an appointment with a doctor in a different surgery yesterday evening, my own being completely booked. In the waiting room I checked my mobile phone was switched to ‘silent’, popping it into my trouser pocket as I was called. The doctor stood, asking about my symptoms, then suddenly stopped talking. He looked at me intently, obviously expecting me to say something. I was not sure what, so I stared back! “Aren’t you going to answer your phone?” he asked in a rather irritated voice. I hadn’t recognised the sound and had assumed it was his!! Sure enough my phone was ringing. I hauled it out of my pocket, mightily embarrassed. I hadn’t locked the screen and inadvertent contact with my thigh had opened a coincidental sequence of ‘settings’, ‘sounds’, ‘ring tone’, and was offering me ‘ripples’ as an alternative to my normal ‘crickets’. I think the GP thought I was beginning to show signs of early dementia or some such and not seeking simple treatment for a chesty cough!”

April 2020

“Sir. Am I the only person fed up with watching the BBC news spokesperson reporting from the outside platform near the Houses of Parliament, constantly trying the keep their hair away from their face? It distracts from their message and it can’t be beyond the resources of the BBC to find a wind-proof place.”

And finally a comment on society today:

“Sir. A recent television documentary concerned the Coventry forensic team’s work in trying to identify who stabbed a 15-year-old teenager. Their success was commendable. What was missing was any mention of parents, either of the innocent victim or of the three teenagers who committed the crime. As a society more needs to be done to ensure those who become parents understand the responsibilities that this entails.”

It’s fun to write to The Times, not only from the point of view of seeing one’s thoughts in print, but also to try to construct one’s letter in such a way as to appeal to the editors over the hundreds of others!

Richard 29th November 2024

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 BAFTA is an abbreviation for the British Academy of Film and Television Arts