THE QUEEN'S DIAMOND JUBILEE

So it’s sixty years since the Queen came to the throne after her father’s death in 1952, while she was on safari in Kenya with the Duke of Edinburgh. She became Queen on February 6th 1952, the day her father King George VI died. As soon as she heard the news in the house she was staying in whilst in Kenya the documents were presented to her to sign. She became Queen immediately.Her coronation was a year later, in Westminster Abbey, in June 1953. I was born in the very same year the Queen became our Queen, June 1952. The Queen's Diamond Jubilee, her sixtieth as Queen  and my sixtieth year, coincide. This means that for my entire life I have only known one monarch on the throne and she seems hale and hearty enough and ready to continue in her role as our smiling, benign, motherly face of Britain and The Commonwealth, for a few more years to come. Today, Marilyn, Abi, my youngest and I stood in an enormous crowd beside The Thames on the South Bank next to The London Eye.

Having a sit down.

 At 3.30pm the Queen and the Royal family, aboard the Royal barge sailed past amongst a flotilla of a thousand boats. I can’t say we saw the Queen or the flotilla but we experienced the crowds amazing warm and heartfelt outpouring of affection for the Queen. Flags waving, cheering, clapping and a great feeling of warmth and friendship pervaded the crowds as we watched on large screens the whole event that was happening a mere few yards away on the river. It was worth being there.

 The Queen. " Good afternoon your majesty. I hope you are well?"

What has the Queen’s reign done for me? How has it shaped my life and made me what I am?

One of the main siren calls and professed aims of many of those governments over the last sixty years and accelerated by Tony Blair and the Labour governments he lead, is social mobility. Even our present coalition government of Tories and Liberals lead by David Cameron still mouth the mantra, “social mobility is our aim,” and, “ the highest quality of education for all,” even though many of their policies are going to create the opposite effect. Michael Gove, like all other ministers for education before him has wrung his  hands and anguished why it is still predominantly the upper middle classes and those from the wealthier families who get into Oxford and Cambridge. How can they possibly get more children from the working class into Cambridge? There is a minority who do already get into Oxford and Cambridge from a working class background but a very very small minority. And then, shock amongst many shocks some people still don’t aspire to higher things such as a great education. The government gasps, “Why not?”

 You are not coming this way!!!!!

To be fair, as an addendum to the above comments about the desirability to go to Oxford and Cambridge, we have many universities in the top one hundred in the world and Oxford and Cambridge are certainly  not unique as far as academic excellence goes in this country. Oxford and Cambridge are used as a symbol.

 The ONLY way to see the Queen.

But what has this meant for me over these sixty years? Have the policies and opportunities offered by successive governments during the Queens reign made me  aspirational and socially mobile? Socially mobile always infers moving up, not down, by the way. Have I suffered a fracture between my upbringing and my present life because of different governments emphasise on social mobility?

 Some gentlemen of the constabulary. 

In many ways I have shifted my social class. By getting a degree through the Open University and later a masters degree from The Institute of Education, London University, I have become middle class because of my educational achievements. One of my brothers got a degree before I did but I followed soon after and the two of us were the first to get university degrees in my family. My family always thought of themselves as skilled working class.  Getting degrees did not, however, create a cataclysmic rift between my brother and I and our family as happened to Rita, in Educating Rita, where her husband, friends and neighbours could no longer accept her. By getting an education she had moved sharply out of her social class. She spoke a different language. She felt and thought differently. Her family and friends had no aspirations away from the lives they lived.

Just look at those trousers.

 Education did not move my brother and I so sharply out of our social class. My father had studied hard at home in the evenings while working as an accounts clerk in an office and got his accountancy qualifications. My grandfather, on my mother’s side, had qualifications. He was a draughtsman in a shipyard. A great uncle of mine had passed his civil service exams. So being educated, studying and passing exams was always accepted in my family. Our family wanted my brother and I to be educated. We were not therefore fighting against our class or our social situation even if we were the first to get degrees. We were admired and the way we thought and our aspirations were an extension of our families’ aspirations for us.

 A decorated balcony just across the road from ,The Old Vic.

One of the greatest things educationally to move people on and bring a high standard of education within the grasp of all, has been the Open University, where I got my first degree. The OU was begun in the late sixties under the Harold Wilson government. To get accepted onto an Open University degree you need no prior qualifications. You have to show that you can write clearly and succinctly. The degrees are as academically rigorous as any other university degree. The degrees are as valuable and well regarded as any other degree. To achieve an Open University degree, you have to show and prove you can reach a good academic standard. This was the first real experiment with flexible further education in this country. Open University degrees are studied at home in the evenings after a days work. There are summer schools to be attended and nowadays, with broadband, there is immediate communication with fellow students, lecturers and tutors. Having a broadband connection also gives immediate access to resources. The degrees take longer to achieve because they are part time and they are divided into modules, which you can take one at a time and when they suit you. All universities offer flexible courses now. There are many ways to get a degree but the Open University was the first to try new ways. It is still at the top in this country as far as flexible degrees go and has been marketed worldwide. It has invariably ranked in the top forty universities in Britain and has always ranked in the top five hundred worldwide. Students globally can access Open University courses and gain degrees. The business school is the most popular in other countries.

 Live music at The National Theatre.

An educational revolution hatched by Harold Wilson under the control of Jennie Lee, who was the minister for education under Harold Wilson, has given confidence and unsought opportunities to many who thought they had no chance as well as those, like me, who did not get immediate access to a university course.

The crowds the crowds!!!!!!!!!!!

I think the Open University has provided a powerful force for social mobility in this country and has influenced social mobility worldwide. I think the opportunities offered by education and the education I have been able to access has been the main shaping influence on my life during the reign of our Queen.

No more use for a union jack at the end of the day.

And finally , the rain came down!!!!!!!!!!

The Open University: http://www3.open.ac.uk/study/

Educating Rita: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Educating_Rita

The Queens Jubilee picture files from the BBC: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/in-pictures-18329453

IOE. Institute of Education: http://www.ioe.ac.uk/

Cheyne Walk Chelsea. A Very Very Special London Street.

Cheyne Walk seen from The Thames in the 1890's

In the late 1950’s , probably about 1958 when I was six years old, an aged great aunt called Kate,came to visit my grandmother and my great grandmother in Southampton. My great grandmother, Susy, was Kate’s sister .  Great Aunt Kate was a very unusual character. I remember her wearing a long black dress down to her ankles, very Edwardian, and an elaborate wide brimmed straw hat. She seemed stern and didn’t smile much. Susy and Kate had been born in Ireland in County Limerick. Both had come to England for different reasons. Susy married William McGinn and came with him to England in his search for work in the shipyards of Newcastle upon Tyne. Kate came to England, a spinster, which she remained all her life, to work for one of the illustrious political families of this country, the Chamberlains. They were very wealthy and owned estates all over the country but politics ran through their blood. Neville Chamberlain was the Prime Minister at the outbreak of the Second World War. He negotiated with Hitler and obtained the Munich Agreement but this came to nothing. Churchill took over from him soon after.

The different branches of the Chamberlain family had many children and Kate was employed as a nanny for some of the children. One of their London Houses was a house in Cheyne Walk. When I met Great Aunt Kate, she was retired as the nanny to the Chamberlains, but over the years, working for them she had developed a very good relationship with the family. They gave her a flat at the top of their Cheyne Walk house for her to live in for the rest of her life. They looked after her, giving her presents and treating her as one of their own. My grandmother used to a stay with Aunt Kate. At that young age of six I remember my grandmother telling me how she used to go shopping with Kate in the Kings Road just north of Cheyne Walk,which sounded very grand. She also spoke of a neighbour of Aunt Kate’s being an artist. My grandmother never remembered the artists name but she told me how he would paint his wife in the nude. This was very exciting news to a six year old. My grandmother told me that it was fine. She believed there was nothing wrong with the human body and it could be quite beautiful.

So Cheyne Walk always had this sense of a world that was different, strange and exotic, inhabited by my Great Aunt Kate and artists painting nude portraits. It was not until years later I discovered the true and even more exotic story of Cheyne Walk.

Cheyne Walk is named after the Cheyne family who owned an estate on the site  and were lords of the manor of Chelsea from 1660 to 1712. The first Georgian houses to be built in the walk were a row of beautiful Queen Anne houses  some of which remain today. However even before the Cheynes the site of Cheyne Walk had it’s place in history. The home of the great Tudor chancellor under Henry VIII, Thomas More,was here. He lived in Chelsea with his extensive family. It was from the river side opposite Cheyne Walk that More was taken by boat to the Tower of London and his execution on Tower Hill. On the site of More’s great house, in Beaufort Street, there is now the Catholic seminary for the diocese of Westminster  called Allen Hall. It has a modern 1960’s designed chapel next door to it. Just round the corner, in Cheyne Walk is a magnificent, coloured statue of Thomas More positioned in front of Old Church.

Allen Hall. The seminary on the site of Thomas More's house.

As you walk along Cheyne Walk it soon becomes apparent how special  this street really is. If you start at the beginning, in the Royal Hospital Road near the Albert Bridge with those fine early Queen Anne Houses; at number 3 Sir John Goss (1800-1880), composer and organist at St Pauls Cathedral lived there. Also Admiral Henry Smythe, who co-founded the Royal Geographical Society lived in the same house at a different period. At number 4 George Elliot spent the last years of her life and  died there on 22^nd December 1880.In the same house lived at different times, William Dyce a Scottish artist who set up public art education in Britain and he headed the Royal College of Art. Daniel Maclise, friend of Charles Dickens , and a great Victorian artist lived at number 4 too. The most famous occupant of number 5 was John Camden Neild a very wealthy recluse and miser. When he died he left his considerable fortune to Queen Victoria.

At number 6, in 1767 lived Dr Domicetti. He spent £37,000 on building brick and wooden structures in the garden. They were what were termed, medicated baths. He treated thousands of people in his garden. At number 10 Cheyne Walk lived the great Welsh liberal politician Lloyd George, prime Minister during the First World War. Number 16 was designed by John Witt. In 1862 Dante Gabriel Rosetti, Algernon Swinburne and George Meredith shared the lease. Rosetti kept a small zoo in the garden, the main feature of which were some peacocks. These were very noisy birds and disturbed the neighbours. Eventually a clause was added to the lease of the house whereby noisy exotic birds were not permitted. It was here at number 16 between 1871 ans 1881 that the Pre Raphaelite brotherhood often met. They all had houses in the area. Cheyne Walk and especially Cremorne Gardens at the far end of Cheyne Walk were a source for obtaining Pre Raphaelite women to be used as artists models. Holman Hunt met Annie Miller and Fanny Waugh, who he both married, at different times of course, in the area of Cheyne Walk. Dante Gabriel Rosetti wooed Jane Morris who was married to William Morris.

Jane Morris ( National Portarit Gallery, Creative Commons Licence)

They were local girls, servants, shopkeepers daughters or perhaps prostitutes met in Cremorne Gardens. The Pre-Raphaelite look was born. Jane Morris, Lizzie Sydal. Christina Rossetti, Alexa Wilding, Fanny Cornforth, Marie Zambaca, Marie Stillman, marriages, divorces, affairs, illegitimate children, wife swapping, prostitutes, it all went on and paintings of the most gorgeous women were painted.

All the great and innovative poets, artists and writers of the time met here at number 16. Charles Dickens disapproved.

Dante Gabriel Rosetti lived here.

Now, if you can pull yourself away from the allure of number 16, at number 17 lived, for a while, Thomas Attwood who was a pupil of Mozart’s and was a composer and another organist at St Pauls Cathedral in 1796. At number 18 was Don Saltero’s Coffee House established first in 1695. At number 18 lived James Salter who was the barber and servant of Sir John Sloane.

Carlysle Mansions where Henry James died.

Further along is a relatively new block of flats built in the Edwardian period. Henry James had an apartment here and died in his flat there. T.S. Eliot and later Ian Fleming, the author of the James Bond books both had apartments in the block. Next door to Carlyle Mansions is Cheyne Hospital for Children built in 1880.

Chelsea Old Church built in 1157 comes next. The chapel to the south side was built in 1528 and was the private chapel of Thomas More. There is a gaudy painted statue of Thomas More outside of it.

Thomas More outside Chelsea Old Church

 On the pavement opposite is a very elaborate street light. It is green in colour and has two little boys climbing up the light column. It commemorates the building of Chelsea Embankment by the engineer Joseph Bazalgette.

Two little boys climbing a lamppost to commemorate Bazalgettes Chelsea Embankment.

One of Whistlers sketches of the Thames shows Old Battersea Bridge with Chelsea Old Church in the background.

James Whistler's Old Battersea Bridge with Chelsea old Church in the background.

Beyond Chelsea Old Church is Roper Gardens named after a son in-law of Thomas More and then Crosby Hall stands on the corner of Danvers Street. Crosby Hall was originally the hall belonging to Crosby Place situated in Bishopsgate in the city. It was built in the 15th century for The Duke of Gloucester who became Richard III. Shakespeare includes the hall in a scene in his play Richard III where Gloucester is plotting. It was later owned by Thomas More. In 1910 it was in danger of being demolished and a fund was raised to have it moved, brick by brick, stone by stone to Chelsea and is now positioned on the site of an orchard that was in the grounds of what was Thomas More’s estate. In Chelsea it first became the dining hall of the British Federation of University Women. It is now a private residence.

Moving on down from Crosby Hall is number 93 where Elizabeth Gaskell was born on the 29^th September 1810. She wrote Cranford and North and South and was famous for her biography of  Charlotte Bronte.

Elizabeth Gaskell was born here.

Numbers 96 to 100 were known as Lindsey house  where James Abbott McNeil Whistler lived between 1866 and 1878. He was an American who settled in England and painted  very atmospheric paintings almost impressionist in their influence. He coined the phrase, “art for arts sake.” He is also renowned as a friend of Walter Sickert, the artist, who was a possible suspect for Jack the Ripper. James Whistler was  an influence on many artists of his generation. Number 98 was once the home of father and son Sir Marc Brunel and his son Isambard Kingdom Brunell. Two of the greatest and most famous engineers of the Victorian period. Isambard Kingdom Brunell constructed The Great Western Railway from Paddington to Bristol, and the steam ship, The Great Eastern.

At number 101 James Whistler lived when he first arrived in London before moving to 96. Hilaire Beloc lived at 104 between 1901 and 1905.He was a catholic and one of , “the big four,” along with  GK Chesterton, H G Wells and George Bernard Shaw.

Hillaire Beloc lived here.

 Philip Wilson Steer, the great artist lived at 109 between 1898 and 1942. J M W Turner lived at 119. Because he was so famous in his lifetime he went by the surname Booth to try and keep his anonymity.

Philip Wilson Steer lived here.

 At number 120, near the end of Cheyne Walk, lived Sylvia Pankhurst, one of the leaders of the Suffragette movement. Her mother Emmiline and her two sisters, Christabel and Adela were  intelligent and brilliant and provided a strong advocacy for women’s rights. Their influence was felt in America, Australia and even in Ethiopia.

The house Sylvia Pankhurst lived in.

At the end of Cheyne Walk is what remains of Cremorne Gardens. James McNeil Whistler painted  many nocturnal pictures depicting Cremorne Gardens. It was a regular haunt of the Pre Raphaelite brotherhood and some of their artists models were first discovered in Cremorne Gardens. The gardens were set up as a rival to Vauxhall Gardens situated on the opposite side of the Thames, on The South Bank, but never became as popular.

The entrance to what is left of Cremorne Gardens today.

More recently Mick Jagger and Keith Richards have lived in Cheyne Walk. Jane Asher, an erstwhile girlfriend of Paul McCartney lived in the street and arguably one of the most talented and flawed footballers ever, George Best, lived there too. Dylan Thomas is known to have drunk in The kings Head and Eight Bells, two pubs nearby.There are many houseboats on the Thames beside Cheney Walk. Artists and musicians live on these too.

House boats beside Cheney Walk

The Chelsea Physic Garden is also close by in Royal Hospital Road which abuts one end of Cheney Walk It was founded in 1673 by the Society of Apothecaries. It's purpose was to train apprentices in recognising flowers and their properties. It was positioned near The Thames at Chelsea because it was found that there was a microclimate there that enabled plants, not native to Britain, to prosper.

If only we ALL had critics like these.

A glass of wine in hand, reading the Guardian Newspaper on a Friday evening, Bob Marley on the sound system telling me, "don't worry about a thing, because every little thing goin to be alright.." and I come across, amongst all the Leveson Inquiry stuff into the machinations of the Murdoch empire trying and now wonderfully failing to take over the world  and all the European Financial melt down and the laughably humiliating actions of the government being forced, screaming, into a plan B whereby they will  bloody well have to inject money into the economy to kick start it, I come across the most hilarious article I have read in years. The writers and novelists amongst you beware.

Poor old Joe Simpson, a hardy individual who has faced death in both the Andes and the Himalayas and lived to write about his experiences in awe inspiring and inspirational and beautifully written English has obviously survived much. His books were chosen as books to be studied by adolescents in secondary schools and deemed as appropriate literature to be studied for GCSE exams.

Joe  Simpson

Enter the world of Twitter. Joe , for him, unfortunately has a Twitter account and many of the teenagers reading and analysing his books have accessed his twitter account.Some choice erudite and incisive comments  such as calling Joe  a  "crevasse wanker," and generally rubbishing his achievements has a elicited a response from Joe, who you may gather is not one to  sulk.

Another erudite commentator told him,"bet I  know more about how you put tension in the first chapter than you do."

"I just write the shit." came the response.. Ha!!! bloody Ha!!!

And yet another perceptive commentator wrote,

"Your book is shit and you should feel bad.Three chapters of crawling didn't inspire me to write about your book in my exam.It was rather boring really."


 The teenagers up front criticism of his books provoked this all encompassing comment.

"Goodnight... and may you all seethe in bilious acid pus."


Yes, well, lovely, quite.

But shouldn't all authors be open to frank and heartfelt analysis of their works? Honesty after all is an admirable quality.

I have attached the article in question, for your perusal and delight.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2012/may/24/mountaineer-joe-simpson-twitter-row?INTCMP=SRCH

(The on-line Guardian article written by Sam Jones)

To all those ego massaging sensitive writers of Jane Austen spin offs who think they are wonderful and marvellous and are living in a TV sit com or Hollywood version of their own  lives, merely filling their time, with  nothings that will only be flushed down the toilet of time. All you are doing is  merely feeding similar bored  people with blank imaginations and nil creativity. Hopeless, hopeless. 

God, criticism is great!

Just as an after thought. Who can influence and inspire the youth of today?

Surely we can't leave that  one up to parents too?

TWININGS ON THE STRAND on Monday!

On Monday, Marilyn my wife, and I were in Twinings on The Strand and just happened to be having a cup of tea with Mary Simonsen, her husband Paul and daughter Kate.

Kate and Paul in Twinings supping a nice cuppa!!!!!!

 Kate, that is Earl Grey isn't it? 

Sorry, perhaps I am being a little presumptious in revealing your tea tastes, Kate. Sorry!

Paul, Kate and Mary outside of Twinings.

Here is a link to TWININGS website. A good cup of tea sets you up for the day, aaaagh!!!!!!

http://www.twinings.co.uk/

And here is the latest TWININGS advert with Lizzie, an American singer featured.

Also have a look at a post I wrote called, A cup of tea with Jane Austen.

THE EPSOM DERBY

Grandstands at Epsom.

The Epsom Derby is the most famous horse race in the world and is run on Epsom Downs just outside the town of Epsom. It was founded in1779 by the 12th Earl of Derby who gave his name to the race. It is Britains richest horse race and is a mile and a half.

I went up onto Epsom Downs today to take my daughter, Emily for a job interview at the race course. She is doing a degree in International Events Management at Cardiff University. Working at the Derby, this Summer will give her valuable work experience and enable her to earn some money and not have to ask me for any. Ahem!

The finishing post and the oldest building still in existence at the Derby. A grandstand built in 1879.

While she was in the interview I took the opportunity to take some pictures of the race course.

A grandstand at Epsom.

The Epsom Derby has inspired horse races around the world including the Irish Derby, The Australian Derby, The New Zealand Derby, the Tokyo Yushi, The French Derby and The Kentucky Derby.

The famous Tattenham Corner where Emily Davidson died.

The Queen and the Royal Family attend Epsom Derby every year.

Epsom Grandstand has a corner in the history of cooking, Some might say rather an important corner of cooking history.

Isabella Mary Beeton, was born on the 12th march 1836 and she has become known world wide as Mrs  Beeton. Her father was Henry Dorling, clerk of Epsom Racecourse. He was a widower with four children and they lived in the grandstand at Epsom.

Isabella Beeton

Isabella married Samuel Beeton and they were married in St Marys Parish Church Epsom. Her husband was a publisher. Mrs Beeton wrote and published The Book of Household Management.It was a book  about housekeeping but also about cooking.The book comprised  1,112 pages and 900 of the pages contained recipes. The book was intended as a source of information for the aspiring middle classes.

Book of Household Management.

Mrs Beeton died early of puerperal fever at the age of 28. There is evidence that both her husband and herself contracted syphilis.

Some historic pictures of the Derby over the years.

This painting was painted by William Powell Frith in 1858.

Emily Davidson, the suffragette threw herself under the Kings horse in 1913 at Tattenham Corner.

The finish to the Derby in 1822.

Good old Dave!!!!!!!!!!

Bloody Politics  And The World of The Gutter

Here in Britain for months and really years now; no, let me start again,  for ever, if the truth be honestly admitted to, we have been a nation full of angst for our situation and various predicaments. We are a nation that has always been in turmoil.

Our present anguished view of our politicians and our country just seems to be at a rather high level of neurosis, and navel gazing at this moment in time.

Let me describe the situation to you. We have had the collapse of our banks and financial structures. Austerity measures are biting. They are biting hard enough to be killing off some of the things we have grown to accept  such as final salary pensions, affordable mortgages and a good return on invested money through the banks. We still have a health service which provides us with what we need, but for how much longer? We have an education system, which is now struggling to give us a world beating education. The BBC has even had its cuts for goodness sake and our local libraries are fighting to stay open. At least our bins are being emptied regularly and the holes in the road are being filled, even if the process takes a little longer than it used to. Billions are being cut from services of all kind in various rounds of cuts. Every month brings new cuts and austerity measures. Cutting is necessary when we are trying to pay off debts but cuts destroy and can damage many things irrecoverably. We need growth and innovation and investment in the right places. That is absolutely vital to our recovery and health as a nation. Now I am not stupid enough to realise that we are not as bad as some and in some ways we can be thankful. Compared to some countries we are pretty Hunky Dori. However we have a large proportion of a generation of youngsters who are going to know nothing but unemployment, probably for the rest of their lives because they are not getting the work experience they need to develop and become confident and talented workers. The cost of living is rising while wages are stagnant. People are cutting down on holidays, not buying that new car, and shopping for own brand foods. There is a healthy future for us but how long that will take to achieve is far from sure.

But it is another cause of angst that is really worrying me at the moment possibly even more than the above depressing set of worries. The Leveson Inquiry is unearthing a culture of moral ambiguities day by day in it’s exploration of phone hacking and Rupert Murdochs News International organisation. 

 Lord Justice Leveson, listening to evidence against News International at his inquiry.

It is gradually being revealed to us how close our politicians sail to the edge of what is legal.and it appears that many , most, maybe all of them, cross that line. Even our esteemed ( I use that word sarcastically) Prime Minister, David Cameron. He loved to invite Rebekah Brooks the Managing Director of News International in Britain to 10 Downing Street for drinks and parties. He socialised with her regularly. David Cameron's own personal advisor, Andy Coulson, had been one of Murdoch's rising stars no less. The fact that Tony Blair is the godfather to one of Rupert Murdoch's grandchildren, well, lets not go there. That sycophantic low life makes me squirm just thinking about him.

Apart from the phone hacking debacle and the destruction of peoples lives , ha! ha! I thought I would just throw that jolly comment in to add to the poisonous mix, Downing Street wants to apply for privileges in the Leveson inquiry. That means when Rebekah Brooks finally takes the stand at the Leveson inquiry next week, if Downing Street gets  core participant status it will be able to ask for a blackout of embarrassing material about The Prime Minister. Well, that points to the fact that there must be embarrassing evidence to  emerge relating to The Prime Minister. Where the f… is open  and honest government in all that? Jeeez!! The mere thought that The Prime Minister and the government are feeling embarrassed and want to protect themselves, even now, makes me so angry. If Cameron has been a fool he should go. Damn him.

There is this feeling now that politicians make up their minds as to what they want before any fair and legal process takes place. I think this government were going to give Rupert Murdoch a majority share in BSKYB before any inquiry into the fairness of that situation. They wanted Murdoch to back them in the next general election and they were prepared to give him the world to gain that. Bloody greed!!!!They manoeuvre, tell half truths, bend the truth, interpret words, phrases and statements  even though the rest of us thought what was written and said meant something different. The whole thing comes down to semantics, twisting of words and meanings to suit, the government. Free and open discussion and dialogue only happens superficially it seems. This is corruption surely? So blatantly, clearly and in full view of us all they want core participant status at the Leveson inquiry at this last moment. I would cry if I wasn’t laughing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We have a politics where people try to get away with as much as they can and then leave it up to lawyers to sort out the fine details of whether they are allowed to do it. Where is good honest morality in all this? In fact what is moral? I’m morally confused now. What is right and wrong? I don’t think I know anymore. Morality is based on a fine interpretation of the law and by applying different emphasise lawyers can make immorality moral and morality immoral. What a world we live in, well, in Britain anyway.

 How is it for you??

PS Oh by the way this week, Jay Rockefeller( Ah! I see you also have an aristocracy. and they run  your country too.) , the chairman of the Senate Committee on Commerce, has written to Lord Justice Leveson asking him if he has found any evidence relating to questionable practices in the US.

Ha! Ha! I bet you lot can't wait for the murky depths that are going to be plumbed on your side of the Atlantc. In the inimitable words of Sergeant Phil Esterhaus in Hill Street Blues. "Hey! lets be careful out there!!"

PPS AND talking about semantics.Tony Blair got us into Iraq on a promise to George Bush that we would invade Irag with the US. He then had to get it approved legally and officially in Britain. So it went through all the supposedly fair and legal processes but at every step it was decided on an interpretation of the law. Semantics, twisting meanings!!!

Can you tell I'm beginning to feel angry. I think I'll just leave off this post now. I might think of something else to write!!!!!!!

VENICE

The thought of taking a Ryanair Flight always creates mixed feelings. They have a reputation after all.  Marilyn researched our trip, found the flight, bought our tickets online and printed off our boarding passes all whilst sitting at home at our home desktop. 

So we flew in across the Alps, rugged, wrinkled and snow covered towards Trevisso Airport, Venice’s second airport these days. Trevisso is a Ryanair created second airport for Venice, about twenty-five miles from the wondrous city. A reasonably quick, forty-minute bus trip took us to the bus station on Venice Island itself. We travelled through the brutalist world of industry, edge of town superstores, railway lines and concrete motorways. The bus suddenly left behind the concrete reality of the mainland and  took us out into a watery world across a long causeway with fishing nets staked out in the shallow waters and in the distance a glimpse of the swollen domes of Renaissance churches. 

The Rialto Bridge across The Grand Canal.

We arrived at the bus station and as soon as we stepped out, there in front of us was the beginning of the Grand Canal.There were motor launches and our first sight of a blue and white striped jumper clad gondolier standing squarely in the stern of his burnished black lacquered gondola. I was expecting him to burst into a resounding operatic chorus of “One cornetto. Give eet to me…” but he didn’t. The whole of the three days we were in Venice I didn’t once hear a gondolier exercise his operatic lungs. Maybe singing gondoliers are just a myth.

Gondolas, cafes and restaurants on The Grand Canal.

With only hand luggage, walking through the alleyways and along the canal side pathways of Venice was not a problem. The map that came with our Rough Guide guidebook about Venice was a problem though. The names of the canals, bridges and alleyways on the map didn’t correspond with the actual names of these places. I nearly threw the map away. We found  the best thing was to follow the compass on my i-phone. We could say with some confidence that  we wanted to head, north or east or west and so we kept turning down alleyways, hitting dead ends often, retracing our footsteps taking another turn and eventually, mostly, mainly, we got to where we wanted to go. Sometimes it was pure luck we got to our intended destination, I must admit,but we saw sights and had unexpected adventures along the way. We would never have come across the gondola boatyard intentionally, with gondolas being built, repaired and fitted out on a ramp set amongst a huddle of dilapidated orange brick buildings with twisted roofs of undulating tiles and creosoted wood panelled walls.

A gondola boatyard.

Our hotel was in the Dorsoduro district of Venice on the south bank of the grand Canal. We were a mere 100 metres from the Pont del Academia and about three hundred metres from the Peggy Guggenheim Collection. Peggy Guggenheim  collected European and American art and this collection is one of the most important of this genre in Italy. It is situated in the Palazzo Venier dei Leoni on the Grand Canal, the home Peggy Guggenheim lived in.  It fronts the Grand Canal but at the back there is a small intimate canal with local housing and small shops along it.

The Grand Canal from Pont del Academia with the Peggy Guggenheim museum on the right.

Venice lives up to its photograph. It is absolutely beautiful. There is a Venetian style. The windows of so many flaking crumbling buildings have a mixture of Moorish and Christian Gothic features. Venice is most decidedly Christian with so many beautiful Roman Catholic churches with gilded and elaborate interiors. You could drown body and soul in all that Catholic symbolism. Your every sense is assaulted with pure medieval beauty. But taking into account how Venice developed and became such a trading powerhouse you can easily understand how it absorbed influences from the places it’s far reaching and powerful tentacles stretched. In the architecture and most obviously in its window designs you can see it.

 A Venice alleway.

Now, about all this apparent material wealth tied up in so many Catholic churches the world over, not just in Venice. It used to be a siren call. “ The Catholic Church has all this wealth. Why can’t it sell all this stuff and use the money to save Ethiopian drought victims or feed the poor of the world?"

Who would want to buy a gold jewelled encrusted chalice or one of the fine Tintorettos sprinkled around the many churches of Venice and how would a ceiling by Veronese be got rid of? Works like this you find in many of the fine churches in Venice. How do you turn this stuff into money? They are not there for art experts to contemplate as art or for us to treat them like museum pieces or the churches as  museums and galleries or as a source of wealth. They are a form of prayer and worship. The best artists, the finest craftsmen, the best materials, designers and architects produced this work to the best of their ability to praise god. Their work was their prayer. The Catholic Church did not and does not benefit from these things in a financial way. They do not make the church rich. These things are prayers and have spiritual meanings. But of course you might have a different viewpoint to me!!!!!!

 One of the many many churches in Venice.

We strolled around Venice looking at all the fashion shops. All the great fashion houses have their shops here, Gucci, Christian Dior, Channel, Givenchy, Gaultier, Versace, Armani and many others too. These shops are like art galleries and the fashion on show in them are like works of art. They are spectacular to walk past, window shop in or timidly and warily walk into. However the prices Wow!!!! A handbag for over 1000 euros? You must be joking! Shoes at nearly 2000 euros a pair!! Phew!!!!!! And those are the less expensive side of haute couture.

Then there were the shops that sell artisan created goods often made in small workshops on the shop premises such as papier-mâché art,  paper makers and craftsmen making hand made books, hand sewen  with tooled leather covers. There were many galleries selling exquisite Venetian glass, chandeliers, mirrors, vases and bowls exhibiting translucent colours. So many shops are stocked with masks ready for the ten day carnival they have in Venice every Easter. Many of the masks are made in the shops and elaborate 18^th century costumes are on display for hire too. The idea of wearing a mask for ten days over Easter has it’s social and  moral side. A mask wearer takes on a new identity. A persons everyday identity disappears. Somebody can create a new persona, do things they would not do. Masks create danger and intrigue. But then of course there was shop after shop selling tourist tat, expensive rubbish. There are so many restaurants, coffee bars and wine bars throughout Venice, all with welcoming and friendly bar staff. Every Venetian I met had a sense of humour and great big smile.

 A small gallery in a back alleyway.

We found the building where the Venice Art biennial is held every two years. It was once a palace facing the waterway between Venice and the Lido. It has an expansive water view. Venice also holds film and architecture biennials and it is these that I think are Venice’s important contributions to the world today. Venice of course, is now a place for tourists .

Marilyn and me eating out in Venice. The wine was good by the way.

The  history of Venice is incredible. The Venetians gave the world many things, which have developed into important aspects of our society and forms of government. The Republic of Venice lasted for over a thousand years from about 740 until 1797, when Napoleon defeated the Venetians and France took control. Venice is a prime example of the all-powerful city-state. It was not a country. It was an independent city that controlled trade all over the Mediterranean and Europe. It was almost continually at war with the Ottomans. The Venetian Empire grew and shrank with success and defeat. As a republic it had no king or royal family. The Doge, the ruler of Venice, was an elected official from amongst the most powerful families of Venice. He was usually chosen because of his astute abilities at trade and negotiating skills.  In this way the government of Venice was a  meritocracy. The election for a Doge was similar to that of a pope and like a pope he stayed in that position for life.

Marilyn and I visited the Doges Palace next to St Marks Basilica, beside St Marks Square. It was a fascinating place not least because of its  architecture. John Ruskin in the 19^th century described the Doges Palace as the most perfect building architecturally in the entire world. He described it as being a perfect combination of Moorish and medieval gothic designs. The palace is designed for a purpose and this purpose was the purpose of government. There are rooms for the great council, for law making, law courts, even a small room that held officials to make sure the law was being followed correctly. There was a department for spying on foreign governments. There was a council for foreign affairs and a council for governing industry within Venice itself. There was a separate room where trade and everyday life in Venice  was controlled. There was a room where sailors were recruited for the all-important Venetian Navy. It is easy to see how this form of government structure has developed, with all it’s departments and concerns, into the sort of governments we have.

 The Doges Palace.

Next door to the Doges Palace is Venice’s prison. It was here Casanova was imprisoned for a while. The entrance to the prison is across the enclosed Bridge of Sighs. The prisoner would have been taken from the courtroom in the palace straight to their prison cell. Marilyn and I followed the rout a prisoner would take and saw the last glimpse a prisoner would get of Venice from the small windows in the Bridge of Sighs. The cells consist of rough stonewalls. Any light getting in to them is from apertures high up in the walls so the prisoners could not see out to the outside world. Each cell was virtually a stone cave.

The Bridge of Sighs leading to the prison on the right.

 Once you were inside one of those you were  dead to the world. Imagine being incarcerated in a Venetian cell. The only place you were alive was inside your own head. There you would be, inside a stone cell, doing absolutely nothing, day in, night out. You would be fed once a day and then nothing. Imagine it, nothingness. Your whole humanity confined to an empty space. You or I would probably go mad.

 St Marks basilica in St Marks Square.

St Marks Basilica was awe-inspiring. It was a symbol of the Venetian superiority in the Mediterranean and it’s power over the Ottomans. St Marks body was stolen from the Egyptians in a Venetian raid. The basilica was built as a great celebration to house St Marks body but also to celebrate Venetian strength and power over the Ottomans. Much of it was constructed from marble columns and slabs, statues and precious metals pillaged during raiding parties against cities,nations and people the Venetians conquered. Marilyn and I both wondered where St Marks body was situated within the basilica. A church guide told us it was inside the silver covered high altar. All Catholic altars have to have a piece of a Saints reliquary within it to make it an altar. This expalnation does sound plausible. Marilyn and I walked around the high altar, which is fronted by a solid silver embossed relief of the life of St Mark. We saw medieval pilgrims badges hanging from a wall and at the back of the altar was a solid gold frieze , jewelled and encapsulating pictures of saints.

 The Lion of St Mark on the left, the great camponile that rang out it's bells on the hour, and The Doges Palace on the right.

Venice is an incredible place. You cannot resist taking photographs. Every inch of the place is photogenic. Windows, walls, rooftops, flower baskets, narrow, dark, damp canals all cry out to be photographed. I couldn’t stop taking pictures. There are fantastic churches everywhere. Art galleries are in abundance. The Academia, Venice’s main gallery, full of Renaissance art was open but undergoing refurbishment, so limited numbers were allowed in. There was a Picasso exhibition and a Salvadore Dali exhibition going on in different places. Venice is full of tourists from every nation. Venice attracts us all to marvel and wonder.