tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39789060141664116212024-03-27T23:54:46.499+00:00Alcoholic DazeMy husband died after a long struggle with alcoholism and I am making the slow climb back to normality.ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.comBlogger634125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-53315608271198716982024-03-26T08:30:00.019+00:002024-03-26T13:54:12.476+00:00Wedding nerves<p>There's less than three months to Kay and her fiance's wedding. </p><p>A year ago it seemed - well a year away - but too far away to panic. Rough hazy plans were made, deposits paid and it seemed way into the future. Suddenly with less than three months to go, it's panic stations as things start to get finalised, concrete decisions made on food, lighting, flowers, clothes, invitations etc. Suddenly it seems more real and VERY CLOSE!!!!</p><p>Kay's dress has been made and we have been having last-minute fittings and alterations. I too have been dress-hunting. As mother-of-the bride, I have to look the part, not least because I shall be accompanying Kay down the aisle in lieu of her father, and I shall be making the father-of-the-bride speech. I have written countless drafts and keep tweaking it over the months, trying to make it funny, succinct and not boring. Public speaking does not come naturally to me, but I want to make Kay proud, so do it I shall. I just hope Greg can send me some of his BBC journalistic skills through the cloud he sits on to help me through it.</p><p>I've just ordered 13 pairs of shoes - all different shapes and sizes to try on at home with my dress and get a perfect look. It's cost a bomb, but hopefully I can return the 12 pairs I don't want and get refunds. It's easier to do it that way, then drag my silky dress round various shoe shops and potentially damage it and in any case, I can't expect to try the dress on in the shoe shops. I've also arranged to hire a hat, as the shop where I bought my dress tried to sell me one for £295. Given that I would only probably be wearing a hat for about 3 hours (for the church and the meal, then ditch it for the dancing and never wear it ever again), I thought that was a bit excessive. Once you mention the word "wedding" the extra noughts on the cost of things start appearing. </p><p>Onwards and upwards. So much still to do.......</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9b085uoCd_nWhbFAXrWIPVowYJVhpFLdVC_YHu4Nq6BqBQmdldJjrpxngbVzI5Dg9EslseH7chEgdCEqM5BCfhZb27ZB1bbR8jEv1CYQuxhbeY7ZezF7snz7vHlJQ175HcGehhpkmqleFZ4NS9zy5u6UwkQJSPj2CyZMKQLLEhAxL00fwyBuzlRBvqjQ/s612/mother%20of%20the%20bride.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="612" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9b085uoCd_nWhbFAXrWIPVowYJVhpFLdVC_YHu4Nq6BqBQmdldJjrpxngbVzI5Dg9EslseH7chEgdCEqM5BCfhZb27ZB1bbR8jEv1CYQuxhbeY7ZezF7snz7vHlJQ175HcGehhpkmqleFZ4NS9zy5u6UwkQJSPj2CyZMKQLLEhAxL00fwyBuzlRBvqjQ/s320/mother%20of%20the%20bride.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-67802469719190764392024-03-06T09:32:00.001+00:002024-03-06T16:09:15.652+00:00Back to the Future<p>It is fourteen years since Greg died. In some ways, it doesn't seem that long. I can still remember vividly the weeks leading up to that, the last week in Intensive Care at the local hospital and the last hours of his life, as his blood pressure sank and his heartbeat flatlined on the monitors. I can vividly recall the conversation with the doctors afterwards and the journey home as the reality sank in.</p><p>In other ways, it seems an eternity. Days, turning into months, turning into years of coping without him, solitary confinement, climbing the stairs to bed each night and turning out the lights on my own, sleeping on one side of a huge bed with just emptiness the other side. Waking the next morning with that emptiness still beside me. Sitting alone in the evenings all year round watching endless, mindless TV programmes to fill the silence. </p><p>People have commented to me how much I do to occupy myself, considering I am retired and should be taking life gently. I go to three gym classes a week, two choirs, help out at the local food bank and charity shop, volunteer at the local park information centre to name a few. Not to mention single-handedly doing all the housework, gardening and house decoration. People say it makes them dizzy just reading that list. But the alternative for me is sitting alone at home. I already watch far too much television and have lengthy discussions with the wall on a regular basis. There is only so much of that I can do without turning completely into a recluse or a zombie.</p><p>As the fourteenth anniversary comes up, I contemplate if this is what the future holds. The grief gets less painful and changes into something I can't quite put my finger on. A sort of faint longing for how things were, how things could be, a definite fear of missing out, an acceptance but not entirely accepting. Many people have suggested dating websites as an answer. I don't know if I will ever be ready for that. Once bitten twice shy. Supposing I jump from the frying pan into the fire and that works out to be a disaster? Companionship would be lovely but at what cost, if he is an axe murderer or will rob me of my possessions or we simply fail to co-exist? I'm nervous to try. I really don't think that's an option. But what else is there other than what I am already doing?</p><p>At choir, we are singing a medley from the musical Jekyll and Hyde, getting ready for a concert at the end of the month. This song in particular jumps out at me with the words being so relevant to my situation. I'm not depressed, in case anyone thinks otherwise, but just pensive.</p><div class="ujudUb" jsname="U8S5sf" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 12px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">I peer through windows</span><br aria-hidden="true" /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Watch life go by</span><br aria-hidden="true" /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Dream of tomorrow </span><br aria-hidden="true" /><span jsname="YS01Ge">And wonder why</span></div><div class="ujudUb" jsname="U8S5sf" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 12px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">The past is holding me</span><br aria-hidden="true" /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Keeping life at bay</span><br aria-hidden="true" /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I wander lost in yesterday</span><br aria-hidden="true" /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Wanting to fly</span><br aria-hidden="true" /><span jsname="YS01Ge">But scared to try</span></div><div class="ujudUb" jsname="U8S5sf" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 12px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge"><br /></span></div><div class="ujudUb" jsname="U8S5sf" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 12px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/IwbT_D31aSg" width="320" youtube-src-id="IwbT_D31aSg"></iframe></div><br /><div class="ujudUb" jsname="U8S5sf" style="margin-bottom: 12px;"><br /></div></div>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-5809222027043840442024-02-17T12:51:00.013+00:002024-02-24T12:04:22.868+00:00Celebrity Cat<p><b>I do have Facebook as one of the apps on both my phone and laptop and have found it useful for many things. When Kay was younger and away at university, it was a way of keeping up with (or stalking) what she was up to, as she and her friends posted a lot on there. It was also a way of keeping up with what MY friends were doing or letting them know what I was up to. Often unrequested random things would pop up such as a recipe or craft pattern that interested me or a cute video of animals or people doing hilarious things. </b></p><p><b>I also decided at some point to join the local Facebook group for my part of London. Again it was useful for all sorts of reasons. Somebody might ask for recommendations for a local plumber, electrician, washing machine repairer, gardener etc and I would save the replies in case I needed them myself in future. There might be a post about a traffic jam somewhere so best to avoid, if I were going out, or a post to tell us a new restaurant was opening or closing, there was a fire on a local road or what were the best schools. Sometimes the post would just be a joke or beautiful picture of something in the area, so I visit the group online everyday to keep up to date. </b></p><p><b>One thing that has been impossible to avoid are numerous comments about a cat whose name I shall change for its privacy. Let's call her Snowy. She is a predominantly white cat but with tabby patches and tabby tail. The most remarkable thing about her is that she has become a local celebrity. She obviously has a home and an owner in our local community, but loves to wander about in a mile or so radius visiting all sorts of places. Her beat often takes her down our local High Street, so shops will post pictures of her in their showrooms. She seems to like most our local library and gym, as well as the local hospital, but she often frequents chemists, opticians, charity shops and hangs around outside Sainsbury's supermarket. About a year ago, despite being electronically tagged, she completely disappeared for 3 months and the local Facebook group were in uproar. We looked out for her- but to no avail- and eventually she was feared dead, as the tag was not reporting back her whereabouts to her owner. An article about her disappearance even appeared in our local paper. Then three months later in May 2023 she turned up again, minus her tag, somewhat thinner, but none the worse for her adventure. If only she could talk about where she had been. The locality was beside itself with joy. </b></p><p><b>Since then she sports a new electronic tag and continues her daily wanderings sighted by the community. Someone with strong media links has also suggested making a film about her. Here are some of the pictures of her in the places she has visited in recent months.....</b></p><p><br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEDFXbIdU-111XnJGmUkG3lMXggo456bZiAXk-lewf03tuXXryGJzJanSdG3htirs2HP0MGv6BLaJilXObVfTxnwq1iMKzGE_Hrd1J9llpfx98PsJb6-YoSFK5AtBNUtRhcR-oaqbNBVVIc1SFb8HYqkzoN6lK8IZNRzcv2yHOipJIc-7GI8xpQsAwNUA" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEDFXbIdU-111XnJGmUkG3lMXggo456bZiAXk-lewf03tuXXryGJzJanSdG3htirs2HP0MGv6BLaJilXObVfTxnwq1iMKzGE_Hrd1J9llpfx98PsJb6-YoSFK5AtBNUtRhcR-oaqbNBVVIc1SFb8HYqkzoN6lK8IZNRzcv2yHOipJIc-7GI8xpQsAwNUA" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the library</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_W8hxK_YLDUGFCOAvxLnyQpbn3vGsBxxZaYcbrPOAdIwFehYkkwbHkHkFjlQb9USeg-uK2mkdI6AinA7K1gBB1J7GXcoytoJ9cWzaLR-qVOEgIUR3Fm04clyp0GnOVGo10Li5wXcxwFI3Bbjp0LwY3V5Hv1eFlc3SEHVLaPLSCxMPnaIpjh9APk112Rg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiSBq1HNABNmSBWhLb4BOkkck57-Zpu9SGwCHMISulaPvoBHNMJcAggx_w_OFN0lb-JCTA9iVDS-MWUFdg6BTUZhtkbT2BanIe1xXJFyZFseAsBVHZkDYaxmNWPywHwdx6HpGSp4a2w2o-rPh0nTlXLere9_fcBPYl6D7mcUMjpCHZJSzWmfjm6qq7aQ/s320/stella.png" width="240" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_W8hxK_YLDUGFCOAvxLnyQpbn3vGsBxxZaYcbrPOAdIwFehYkkwbHkHkFjlQb9USeg-uK2mkdI6AinA7K1gBB1J7GXcoytoJ9cWzaLR-qVOEgIUR3Fm04clyp0GnOVGo10Li5wXcxwFI3Bbjp0LwY3V5Hv1eFlc3SEHVLaPLSCxMPnaIpjh9APk112Rg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">Maybe a perm at the hairdressers</a></td></tr></tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_W8hxK_YLDUGFCOAvxLnyQpbn3vGsBxxZaYcbrPOAdIwFehYkkwbHkHkFjlQb9USeg-uK2mkdI6AinA7K1gBB1J7GXcoytoJ9cWzaLR-qVOEgIUR3Fm04clyp0GnOVGo10Li5wXcxwFI3Bbjp0LwY3V5Hv1eFlc3SEHVLaPLSCxMPnaIpjh9APk112Rg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhAKerbvl_2CTDBbL7rzdKKzLYSHich9q9lavM_5lVkJpnOaKZLf7Xzt9mX3s8ci_TEryOcv76is_aeSwOasB-d7wP7V9SVx57eYn-yWT_nN3ytc4hzfzNQqhJX8NlV62wTK9rOj2YGC4DfcokhUka09hGIz1PT6ijmmgdDKRKkNr45EsQ7GNLhuQVlBBw" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhAKerbvl_2CTDBbL7rzdKKzLYSHich9q9lavM_5lVkJpnOaKZLf7Xzt9mX3s8ci_TEryOcv76is_aeSwOasB-d7wP7V9SVx57eYn-yWT_nN3ytc4hzfzNQqhJX8NlV62wTK9rOj2YGC4DfcokhUka09hGIz1PT6ijmmgdDKRKkNr45EsQ7GNLhuQVlBBw" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buying a house</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkl_xtO_aSZ4ioCaMrIrBaDx8ORG50vNu1ILOc9o6QhbNq5W1K_pwFd6B6Tt7W1PBheHXmnAjXCyF7SzkWG-TnLx3nEUVDp4-fUC1F5SpvLN-5X6SPhUAogfRewRZSxQMWib_Qf041xkR78h61PAudBHGepoxqcc06ooKh2lBJ9b2eZNdNU3BspfTl1ZQ/s1024/image.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="983" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkl_xtO_aSZ4ioCaMrIrBaDx8ORG50vNu1ILOc9o6QhbNq5W1K_pwFd6B6Tt7W1PBheHXmnAjXCyF7SzkWG-TnLx3nEUVDp4-fUC1F5SpvLN-5X6SPhUAogfRewRZSxQMWib_Qf041xkR78h61PAudBHGepoxqcc06ooKh2lBJ9b2eZNdNU3BspfTl1ZQ/s320/image.png" width="307" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A quick half pint at the pub</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9x5LOwkxleTwQMkRTOERwuTrcjo7muh9NytlZSI4_OJlTAas0vcYOYuItf-9iE4yNbkVAintFtcWAWxl08fXl7prynkVUcD6oG8lanWGQm-9iMPHecywh5goekrAapYG0AJwHncnexLmqJaTqQ9yL4uyzy3o0FjdjT11tPwYjypAukUXuzWJkCgz_GxY" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="735" data-original-width="1170" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9x5LOwkxleTwQMkRTOERwuTrcjo7muh9NytlZSI4_OJlTAas0vcYOYuItf-9iE4yNbkVAintFtcWAWxl08fXl7prynkVUcD6oG8lanWGQm-9iMPHecywh5goekrAapYG0AJwHncnexLmqJaTqQ9yL4uyzy3o0FjdjT11tPwYjypAukUXuzWJkCgz_GxY" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The books in the chemist are boring</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtIwlCDdlRTEo2ESjT2zQo6-dBdgsbl8vA5RgsbRt2TI6zloPjYDnoQ13U3MJDoi6Pyw9aJi3fZpjZ3g0VarqXWSZNjfmk53gFHeA-GHLAaTE-vxsKfrfQyf1TA5q6f4135J3ngK5h0uiCwNh12Ki72ykqwUFu8_78oFMkJqix7L_D30WDG9MLELqoBQ4" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtIwlCDdlRTEo2ESjT2zQo6-dBdgsbl8vA5RgsbRt2TI6zloPjYDnoQ13U3MJDoi6Pyw9aJi3fZpjZ3g0VarqXWSZNjfmk53gFHeA-GHLAaTE-vxsKfrfQyf1TA5q6f4135J3ngK5h0uiCwNh12Ki72ykqwUFu8_78oFMkJqix7L_D30WDG9MLELqoBQ4" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing peek-a-boo in the library again</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEicrWth1A1a32L1QmdmuG7df6udS5AttqHNDyFXx4mGNc7JHCoaRYBaaR2pxkpdgjNLQbr28U_XvaR5s-aQSk5vj2K-rqPw99Cn2qdHZn1WTBSJWPi4vcoDFB2QteaHAUokutCaGrPqEcDbTAzf_-7MnXhXXLMGzLhNkDEDSnxXRJwUswPF1umWwviRHMo" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEicrWth1A1a32L1QmdmuG7df6udS5AttqHNDyFXx4mGNc7JHCoaRYBaaR2pxkpdgjNLQbr28U_XvaR5s-aQSk5vj2K-rqPw99Cn2qdHZn1WTBSJWPi4vcoDFB2QteaHAUokutCaGrPqEcDbTAzf_-7MnXhXXLMGzLhNkDEDSnxXRJwUswPF1umWwviRHMo" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A quick nap in the charity shop.....</td></tr></tbody></table> <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjExZrj5QYMw9uLOy6CBWMeoUdX4ZkZd3ntcajO1aB5qUnrSEiy4wNYMj_zpun1q2lBtNTDza2tF3r2qOyZ3wXscF8iNHC8Ht_1gwSqtXQYGPlWlEPmgEvetGGX1JT8sS31dGSbCRZ1QrUcqMj0NVLxwObe0l7NGHnhlzdA5uTFdVak9_Bireip7nDgG-A" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjExZrj5QYMw9uLOy6CBWMeoUdX4ZkZd3ntcajO1aB5qUnrSEiy4wNYMj_zpun1q2lBtNTDza2tF3r2qOyZ3wXscF8iNHC8Ht_1gwSqtXQYGPlWlEPmgEvetGGX1JT8sS31dGSbCRZ1QrUcqMj0NVLxwObe0l7NGHnhlzdA5uTFdVak9_Bireip7nDgG-A" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">......and another nap in the chemist shop</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhiA4Tc1fw06xl1T89PDl-6rxtYA9b8zNcqDm6i8ReKqx4l6tvkWb-0B1swrz2iyd6i_SR-pbEpJ730UrWRgA21ABdCL5Qyysb7DSc8DQbqLlnU2_B4VgP66ArFwWt5O886z1FF4A2Qwkc9QnZvqv3bd13Q3RDaOQG4Fj9kxLZkJt7zqEWDr_U55OFqP2o" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhiA4Tc1fw06xl1T89PDl-6rxtYA9b8zNcqDm6i8ReKqx4l6tvkWb-0B1swrz2iyd6i_SR-pbEpJ730UrWRgA21ABdCL5Qyysb7DSc8DQbqLlnU2_B4VgP66ArFwWt5O886z1FF4A2Qwkc9QnZvqv3bd13Q3RDaOQG4Fj9kxLZkJt7zqEWDr_U55OFqP2o=w320-h240" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A stroll round the churchyard</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlhG6zGKpK8EHPU4Lr3e3I2_Zg7VjFhsLQAd-5qRJdFh2NgI4mdNYUFnZxF-EBLWRmHghVhO9qBgEHFFKz1Xjs-s6DJ63qZOUf8U4uuyv9Bv2BEdLUWPmDYP9sjgUdiF5z1-hiNwXqVhDk9rlCsWUe-EZVAy9Ti8tRKmA9RJjQ-Mj3HD8zWkGuXV7NdYg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlhG6zGKpK8EHPU4Lr3e3I2_Zg7VjFhsLQAd-5qRJdFh2NgI4mdNYUFnZxF-EBLWRmHghVhO9qBgEHFFKz1Xjs-s6DJ63qZOUf8U4uuyv9Bv2BEdLUWPmDYP9sjgUdiF5z1-hiNwXqVhDk9rlCsWUe-EZVAy9Ti8tRKmA9RJjQ-Mj3HD8zWkGuXV7NdYg" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for a blood test at the local hospital</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqBiE5KrVGk_t4ry0pBsDF7watWoBt5HIJoCUqS_F6XOiO4yKlgmHDQ9RH4B_IiU8PF4YNXUOJdyrWmfl87q3Bed8g-HGMTlVD5IFd5TWMMmm1O9nhrqD8ulaG-FMietNRWo7q1_jXGl_c4VbSFCp1RfWFZcgokqVmwd8lqbHMmF0iWOA1uovdhdOKHZ4" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqBiE5KrVGk_t4ry0pBsDF7watWoBt5HIJoCUqS_F6XOiO4yKlgmHDQ9RH4B_IiU8PF4YNXUOJdyrWmfl87q3Bed8g-HGMTlVD5IFd5TWMMmm1O9nhrqD8ulaG-FMietNRWo7q1_jXGl_c4VbSFCp1RfWFZcgokqVmwd8lqbHMmF0iWOA1uovdhdOKHZ4" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a check-up at the dentist<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgytB-7KL4lGCeco1x-498MOKftiiNLcEpigx5mYWNy-k6UYkp_JJ32q1fVUGVv58_yqaHfVKnmJk9-7XtpA0P61JWgY7iaqsYf-aZJB_1l19BfBLJiYJQxRi_pcAnkh_Pnc1rY-IP6XrgXRGw3CNfQJ45TWzvtOqE36L0kqqCGuAuAlhB2lk2GPCKUxuU" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgytB-7KL4lGCeco1x-498MOKftiiNLcEpigx5mYWNy-k6UYkp_JJ32q1fVUGVv58_yqaHfVKnmJk9-7XtpA0P61JWgY7iaqsYf-aZJB_1l19BfBLJiYJQxRi_pcAnkh_Pnc1rY-IP6XrgXRGw3CNfQJ45TWzvtOqE36L0kqqCGuAuAlhB2lk2GPCKUxuU" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another day, another charity shop</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBm7HMZBUQE2kdtt6PrPsNri7M36Ape6ll8vuWZcQwLAb5QKx2l3hXFcOBGK5dfsQviaJTHnRos81FCUiuZdnG6EMHgxJVOJOrklU1o2d-WVnckiXa-CPzqeMqRxFYBmZPZJ4Tb1GXiQYJ4xfayBJGKTWlOolVhW3wxSFxNJgkKR83Rr5EI38UHFKrNyI" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBm7HMZBUQE2kdtt6PrPsNri7M36Ape6ll8vuWZcQwLAb5QKx2l3hXFcOBGK5dfsQviaJTHnRos81FCUiuZdnG6EMHgxJVOJOrklU1o2d-WVnckiXa-CPzqeMqRxFYBmZPZJ4Tb1GXiQYJ4xfayBJGKTWlOolVhW3wxSFxNJgkKR83Rr5EI38UHFKrNyI" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going to the bank is exhausting</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPulomgVmYVpn8yAexTHyFCFHyydHlsVrLYHm6LSqSF2SDotxqbvyKAUyfjFGXujUaYQFPTTNP-TpM3rhvTIInjluRjFRPVTh_hgS6EgAmEJn7AgOfpEK_NFUtYl4_Dxr82RXfetDpkldQFyBBTe6DSbdQfuzgywBxdDYQZRWqJOAKjNdK6B-F8nYvlXQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPulomgVmYVpn8yAexTHyFCFHyydHlsVrLYHm6LSqSF2SDotxqbvyKAUyfjFGXujUaYQFPTTNP-TpM3rhvTIInjluRjFRPVTh_hgS6EgAmEJn7AgOfpEK_NFUtYl4_Dxr82RXfetDpkldQFyBBTe6DSbdQfuzgywBxdDYQZRWqJOAKjNdK6B-F8nYvlXQ" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Popping into Marks and Spencer for a bit of cod</td></tr></tbody></table> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjrE9nD03vAzmJFctiW89wxuOhiYIqVyktNqT3zJj-qMX0IhbbG_yCSdvDM5SbFIG_cMEs6hlHoJdwWfC1r7ZJd_Ce6J013bx3xr5-JGAC3fEDpBpyB30ZseHktgGfzQpXqj1MdKkVdDhNyN1jJsFU6mDvBp0IcrLx4Jkx5YYirrSqxX8Xsj7ugRk8QBNU" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjrE9nD03vAzmJFctiW89wxuOhiYIqVyktNqT3zJj-qMX0IhbbG_yCSdvDM5SbFIG_cMEs6hlHoJdwWfC1r7ZJd_Ce6J013bx3xr5-JGAC3fEDpBpyB30ZseHktgGfzQpXqj1MdKkVdDhNyN1jJsFU6mDvBp0IcrLx4Jkx5YYirrSqxX8Xsj7ugRk8QBNU" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Needed a hammer at the DIY shop</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>I have been lucky enough to see her once personally at the gym, but didn't have a camera on me at the time. I'm sure I'll see her again one day, but meanwhile I'll have to make do with the almost daily photographs and sightings on Facebook.</b><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>UPDATE - </b><b>She is now a television star! </b><b>She appeared on primetime breakfast TV this week, shortly after I posted this, as an example why all cats in the UK must be microchipped from June 2024. </b></div><div><br /><p></p></div>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-43517341612877152682024-01-30T12:29:00.002+00:002024-01-31T09:22:44.043+00:00Technology - improvement or hindrance?<p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">I sometimes think modern technology, such as computers and the internet can be a double-edged sword. I am all for progress, after all, without it, we'd all still be wearing sabre-tooth tiger cloaks and be killing woolly mammoths for our supper. But I guess through every generation of progress there have been pros and cons. Take the industrial revolution. It took production output to the next level for factory and mill owners, but at the cost of exploiting their workers. I feel today with the internet we face advantages and disadvantages of different kinds.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Computers, mobile phones and the internet have drastically changed the world we live in. At the touch of keypad we can look up answers to any of our questions in a heartbeat (assuming we have good broadband connections). We can instantly convert dollars to pounds, look up US presidents at the time of Queen Victoria, the next train from London to Edinburgh, the best hotels in Sydney, the weather in Guatemala or get a supermarket delivery. We can send emails, attend meetings from home, glance at our bank accounts or arrange bank transfers. We can reduce the wastage of paper (and thus save the planet) by having online accounts for utilities and other companies we deal with, rather than get hard paper copies sent to us through the post. We can "visit a street" on the other side of the world and see what it looks like. There are so many more advantages.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">BUT. There has to be a but. There is a lot to be said against it. For starters what happens when there is poor or no broadband connection and you cannot research something online or send an email? What happens when you have no mobile phone signal and cannot contact someone urgently to tell them you are going to be late or not show for a meeting with them? What happens if your computer dies or your mobile smashes on the ground and you cannot transfer money or receive online paperwork until you can fork out for another computer or mobile? What if you mis-type an email address and the person you are targeting doesn't even get your message or some stranger finds out things about you?</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have noticed with the younger generation (I am not naming names, dear daughter of mine), that they tend to religiously contact colleagues by email and then wonder why they get no reply for days or weeks on end. Where as I would pick up the phone, dial and get my answer there and then. I am advised that NOBODY does phone calls these days. It's all done by email. Similarly, when seeking a quote for work to be done or goods to be provided, an online request form is de rigeur. Again, I would pick up the phone, dial and ask what they charge!!</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">I am afraid I still insist on bills being sent to me, rather than having online copies, as I always worry, if my computer goes down or dies, I won't have anything to rely on. I am sure recycling paper will still save the planet, given that we have already chopped down millions of trees and already have a load of paper hanging around waiting to be recycled. I do have an online bank account - it seems almost impossible not to these days, but I have to have 100% of my wits about me not to be scammed in a moment of sleepy lack of concentration, when I receive a phone call from a stranger purporting to be from Amazon telling me I have just paid £4,000 and do I want to stop this purchase and hand over my bank details.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Another disadvantage of the internet is social media and the way it can put stress on children's lives. Once kids were bullied at school but it stopped at the school gates. Now, with mobile phones, kids are getting bullied round the clock, even as they're turning out the bedside light at night. On the plus side, CCTV cameras, Automatic Number Plate Recognition (ANPR) and Face Recognition cameras can fight crime and solve complex cases in much shorter times.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">I sit on the fence on this one. There are good points and bad points. What say you?</span></b></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-112069733750041942024-01-19T12:36:00.000+00:002024-01-19T12:36:04.617+00:00Winter blues<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>It's already the 19th of January and I have just realised I have not posted anything at all since December. Life seems to get in the way sometimes, although I cannot really boast of anything exciting. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>It seems as one gets older, there's a lot of bad news flying around and stuff to deal with. There have been two deaths in recent weeks - one the sister of my best friend and the other an old friend/neighbour of my parents whom I have known for nearly 40 years. The first had specifically requested no funeral. I attended the funeral of the second last week. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>I have also been following up appointments on my own health and saw my gastric consultant on 4 January. She wants to do another gastroscopy to stretch a stomach valve which should help with the acid reflux I get from time to time. I last had this procedure back in September, but it needs doing again as it did not do the trick last time. The gastroscopy was due to be done today, but because of a mix-up with the appointment's department, it never got registered, so has been delayed until 2 February. It's probably just as well there was a mix-up, as I have gone down with a dreadful cold - I haven't had one in years - and am feeling sorry for myself. I've lost count of the number of times I sneezed yesterday (probably well over a hundred) and I feel as if someone has attached a permanently running tap to my nose. I know I'll survive, but together with this cold snap in the weather, it is making me listless. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>T</b></span><b style="font-family: verdana;">o cheer up a rather depressing post, I got the train up to the Midlands to visit my niece and six-week-old grand niece at the beginning of the week, thankfully before any of my cold symptoms appeared. </b><b style="font-family: verdana;">She got lots of cuddles from Great Aunt Addy. </b><b style="font-family: verdana;">She is such a poppet and has an amazing head of hair. See what you think....</b></p><p><b style="font-family: verdana;"></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Rzh2O4lcXS9Fc1fAK6RDO_AJRIPLxwAUow1QUjhJt2alxWgrpJqoonZe8FvjT81iPYU3b_glrjYEtR-gx_crXBSPFfP2QOgnAqxtuSx014wsPcaV5DKjvMzR7YA2owqfI4zf_ZR-Yj8eqElPSLHXhHBK0YJDgX1GeS8eQixH1E6nuOufVTOsjFCR8mw/s2048/leia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Rzh2O4lcXS9Fc1fAK6RDO_AJRIPLxwAUow1QUjhJt2alxWgrpJqoonZe8FvjT81iPYU3b_glrjYEtR-gx_crXBSPFfP2QOgnAqxtuSx014wsPcaV5DKjvMzR7YA2owqfI4zf_ZR-Yj8eqElPSLHXhHBK0YJDgX1GeS8eQixH1E6nuOufVTOsjFCR8mw/s320/leia.jpg" width="240" /></a></b></div><b style="font-family: verdana;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /></b></div><b style="font-family: verdana;"><br /><br /></b><p></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-89430918386171687332023-12-27T09:05:00.011+00:002023-12-27T09:05:00.134+00:00Christmas Tidings<p><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">It's been a funny old Christmas this year. To kick off with, I went down with a virus - the second year running - and I reckon I have a choir concert on 13 December to blame. A soprano directly in front of me was coughing her head off, despite us all being told not to turn up to rehearsals or concerts if we have colds or covid. Lo and behold, three days later I went down at first with a sore throat, then several days later I completely lost my voice and ended up over Christmas with a tickly cough which was worse when I lay down in bed. Last year at the same concert I picked up covid (probably from the same woman, as she always stands in front of me.) Next year, I'll trip her up at the rehearsal the week before and save myself the bother of being third Christmas unlucky!!</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">The second problem was that Kay was working nightshifts over the Christmas period. So she was working the nightshift on Christmas Eve into Christmas Day at a very busy central London Intensive Care Unit. Her fiance had gone home to his parents for the festive break, so as to avoid being home alone. Fortunately Kay came home (very exhausted) to me on Christmas morning and went straight to bed. We arranged I would wake her at 2pm to give her a bit of rest and at the same time help her flip back to daytime hours again. We therefore managed to have a nice Christmas meal in the late afternoon, wonderfully prepared by me while she was asleep. With the meal and a prosecco or two or three, we were both dozing on and off during the rest of the evening.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">On Boxing Day, Kay left to drive down to join her fiance and his parents in deepest Kent for two days. I'll see her again on the 28th when they both return to celebrate a proper Christmas with me. After that it will soon be the end of another year and a very exciting 2024 ahead. Happy New Year in advance. May we all get peace in the world and health and happiness.</span></b></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-25805631872078882942023-12-20T10:20:00.000+00:002023-12-20T10:19:12.895+00:00Germany - Part 4 - Hamburg again<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Apart from the day on my birthday reminiscing and revisiting all the old haunts, as I described in my last post, we also did the usual tourist things and went on two walking tours to see the main sights of Hamburg. The weather was still very cold and, despite wearing five layers of clothing under our coats, we were still shivering, as we stopped at various points to listen to the tour guide. I knew a lot of the sights from having lived there, but of course Kay and her fiance had never been there before, so it was all new to them and there were one or two surprises for me too.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>We started off at the Rathaus or City Hall which is a magnificent building in the heart of Hamburg. It was also the site of the main Christmas market, so we ended up there quite a lot during the few days we were there and because it was not far from our hotel.</b></span></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNttn18lesq3QnTzN19d5sm98XRXwPbK7VFdaQ2VxLJ_dEq-OcPCkIGXhSeq8rE-vvuEM7mfdSej3tp3D-aW4vpj_F1_l_6_gVvpXUm5P5EvKr81uUv65JIVVE5E6BdK0OLrCXT0sZnhHgYxD6N3W3bhMZlIHwrR67dkoQqVpJYwJWBV8KwTKrXV5-AA/s1728/H%20Rat%2016.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNttn18lesq3QnTzN19d5sm98XRXwPbK7VFdaQ2VxLJ_dEq-OcPCkIGXhSeq8rE-vvuEM7mfdSej3tp3D-aW4vpj_F1_l_6_gVvpXUm5P5EvKr81uUv65JIVVE5E6BdK0OLrCXT0sZnhHgYxD6N3W3bhMZlIHwrR67dkoQqVpJYwJWBV8KwTKrXV5-AA/s320/H%20Rat%2016.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQvFh2x8O-tHFqp8Mk3hNQB31HsrJhNRq_fbdYQ0Tj1ss0Mr69Vu_Gk9WWd5M42CbkMaiXrcwkyn-GgxOX8QQv_UUg_1AU85Bo74P17O8odGRn38lj5pwTDh5sqJUQYygRIofp5-efCKpzRgC2z4TP-1lQ5vGEzoPvooTNdKh1u-3W5sb3PsTbw27q58/s2048/H%20Rat%2010.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQvFh2x8O-tHFqp8Mk3hNQB31HsrJhNRq_fbdYQ0Tj1ss0Mr69Vu_Gk9WWd5M42CbkMaiXrcwkyn-GgxOX8QQv_UUg_1AU85Bo74P17O8odGRn38lj5pwTDh5sqJUQYygRIofp5-efCKpzRgC2z4TP-1lQ5vGEzoPvooTNdKh1u-3W5sb3PsTbw27q58/s320/H%20Rat%2010.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Inside is even more impressive.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08YgDONtG_nQve5D-HBxEG-eN7Fos9roQKX0cD2F23VpgGQY7KcG7CbKAULamY3FchINrKMCiM5adbnTexPTfbxaZkqff4-9uSYSqE3-8PZHeQKsSx5dUWmJK8PhfKi5lwEhp__W0rntrntdEdmOMck_igaqomZrRVVyqK5v9qbi7qIitfz8EY7VSbN0/s1600/H%20rat%2028.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08YgDONtG_nQve5D-HBxEG-eN7Fos9roQKX0cD2F23VpgGQY7KcG7CbKAULamY3FchINrKMCiM5adbnTexPTfbxaZkqff4-9uSYSqE3-8PZHeQKsSx5dUWmJK8PhfKi5lwEhp__W0rntrntdEdmOMck_igaqomZrRVVyqK5v9qbi7qIitfz8EY7VSbN0/s320/H%20rat%2028.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_xpQ5lhO-IquStp56qLiR4iTf0fYBM3m0qQe3GGCdOongPK59s3i5ysRvu5ikNBlS5PoR_qpUSNzDYvtwEX9TLbSBeCtzjfpLjbeeY61Y6MXar6B-tojAmMNezIJzq6jOnLYxCrEFbyfKc0zYJ2dx9tsN4EHDWLE4DRUcf4VF-qPv4m1Y1FXumeJ31Q/s1600/H%20Rat%2035.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_xpQ5lhO-IquStp56qLiR4iTf0fYBM3m0qQe3GGCdOongPK59s3i5ysRvu5ikNBlS5PoR_qpUSNzDYvtwEX9TLbSBeCtzjfpLjbeeY61Y6MXar6B-tojAmMNezIJzq6jOnLYxCrEFbyfKc0zYJ2dx9tsN4EHDWLE4DRUcf4VF-qPv4m1Y1FXumeJ31Q/s320/H%20Rat%2035.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Not many people know that Hamburg, although known for its docks, has a massive lake in the centre of the city known as the Alster. It is so big, that ferries operate to take commuters from one end to the other. It is cut in two by a road bridge so the smaller bit of it is known as the inner Alster (Binnenalster) and the larger part known as the Outer Alster (Aussenalster). I always found it amusing that a shandy (half beer and half lemonade) is known there as Alsterwasser (Alster water). The smaller Binnenalster is close to the Rathaus, making the whole area very attractive and home to many 5</b></span><b style="font-family: verdana;">-star hotels and embassies.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiuSvS0aCKZX8oQN7tbG-lJ9Gw8HK8-yEQxkbw7ZSC9F40dLSUUmnLS1Azd0Z8L53v0IqqXeHTSQClPRmyBhaqbvCE7GU49ygJBZGQiFV28WC7GgWMbLgXWmr592BIcGWoX6kVijcxr6QXs463l78EIbnQtJIkk4L8dc_5TTWY_9f3RTkuviAJ1ub-99g/s2048/H%20Alster2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiuSvS0aCKZX8oQN7tbG-lJ9Gw8HK8-yEQxkbw7ZSC9F40dLSUUmnLS1Azd0Z8L53v0IqqXeHTSQClPRmyBhaqbvCE7GU49ygJBZGQiFV28WC7GgWMbLgXWmr592BIcGWoX6kVijcxr6QXs463l78EIbnQtJIkk4L8dc_5TTWY_9f3RTkuviAJ1ub-99g/s320/H%20Alster2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio_O5hAKVBcYl-AzbBESD1P7Q9BRkLIWoUHmaqp1h6qAv8hEeNoTJtfxXoJF_vAwAQfIfRFtnz6NcLG6HJeYV3e4winOrVeAND3sVFhTo4ZgXzynFVObrlM_6-gNCjvB8xZIlFxKeToh26eruQE5OXiMeV0bOCH96lFvyuY5SFl69zHLzD7zEOgVyRnJ0/s1600/H%20Alster%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio_O5hAKVBcYl-AzbBESD1P7Q9BRkLIWoUHmaqp1h6qAv8hEeNoTJtfxXoJF_vAwAQfIfRFtnz6NcLG6HJeYV3e4winOrVeAND3sVFhTo4ZgXzynFVObrlM_6-gNCjvB8xZIlFxKeToh26eruQE5OXiMeV0bOCH96lFvyuY5SFl69zHLzD7zEOgVyRnJ0/s320/H%20Alster%202.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifG3nT3vw34Bmh4vflx4IbZGhBMtDtUwN6p6HzjMUVBeQSDgLsbixVsnnGn9bFArVFYTRfLHhqEZhjQ4xaWDghKxP1HZ5n3cWKNyOtoRUu0HRzR2F5q2dTCJi7h265N7kOCNfTyOwkn_vrMo4yeoi2-tK-Szml-aHZ6d7SYLzASVtb3hFSXZI9nRYOnWw/s1728/H%20Alster%207.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifG3nT3vw34Bmh4vflx4IbZGhBMtDtUwN6p6HzjMUVBeQSDgLsbixVsnnGn9bFArVFYTRfLHhqEZhjQ4xaWDghKxP1HZ5n3cWKNyOtoRUu0HRzR2F5q2dTCJi7h265N7kOCNfTyOwkn_vrMo4yeoi2-tK-Szml-aHZ6d7SYLzASVtb3hFSXZI9nRYOnWw/s320/H%20Alster%207.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6cQ895RFXDt4xzI_H6eBQySA_iM7OTHaQjDVLuAx54sguVzQICAVvrNMPjfIIvFybJVRg8pLIiaZ2r4WvPBZbRhdE1kpJj3SMVzNLwAAFd1P8SHeKuiWM1Lnzuh0oGrFWYQGftsB_o73X5HMvgr8qMItrdVoNZ1pqHq3rAO7sVyWk6r6GK12uP9ydVm8/s1728/H%20Alster%208.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6cQ895RFXDt4xzI_H6eBQySA_iM7OTHaQjDVLuAx54sguVzQICAVvrNMPjfIIvFybJVRg8pLIiaZ2r4WvPBZbRhdE1kpJj3SMVzNLwAAFd1P8SHeKuiWM1Lnzuh0oGrFWYQGftsB_o73X5HMvgr8qMItrdVoNZ1pqHq3rAO7sVyWk6r6GK12uP9ydVm8/s320/H%20Alster%208.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In winter this huge lake freezes over and people go skating on it. You can already make out the ice forming and it's not mid-winter yet.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NeyFKyKJTs-1KiOH8TSBJ4PsgfhVfrv64UHoFgl1h07W_ZPITSc32FmKj96nVmBm0NC-gn3mxzHDq38OZM7ZI7o5Eh0ZUJDhw_VNnx7h-3YOVQCrA23tKhIHHO6-72oddyjzqDnhBpZf5WADhNUzPSxR4vbvIfq7PeKXNnagE3r5aLWwhA2EZ4Ygr9k/s2048/H%20Alster5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NeyFKyKJTs-1KiOH8TSBJ4PsgfhVfrv64UHoFgl1h07W_ZPITSc32FmKj96nVmBm0NC-gn3mxzHDq38OZM7ZI7o5Eh0ZUJDhw_VNnx7h-3YOVQCrA23tKhIHHO6-72oddyjzqDnhBpZf5WADhNUzPSxR4vbvIfq7PeKXNnagE3r5aLWwhA2EZ4Ygr9k/s320/H%20Alster5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>The walk took us past two famous Hamburg churches - St Michael and St Nicholas - the latter having been left a ruin since it was bombed.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9isf6t0892cZ0T3oCB7tEEKeyK0l9SiJIRV2oljX5DblZwnP8RBk6Xc9i7LWxudQTHQTmYj1jYtjuhazV22VaAlZPj_G4ehDAm3fWMEo2GyN_oBR7suhyphenhyphenvAUIqXQzQ9YWR6Fup-xev7b5iRSKZ9lOoMI-0dbSjfY-nzYMSs3QLSighzLPMFoN9gq7tk/s2048/H%20Michel.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9isf6t0892cZ0T3oCB7tEEKeyK0l9SiJIRV2oljX5DblZwnP8RBk6Xc9i7LWxudQTHQTmYj1jYtjuhazV22VaAlZPj_G4ehDAm3fWMEo2GyN_oBR7suhyphenhyphenvAUIqXQzQ9YWR6Fup-xev7b5iRSKZ9lOoMI-0dbSjfY-nzYMSs3QLSighzLPMFoN9gq7tk/s320/H%20Michel.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Michael</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2ac6xnUfrQLHMltvCzOsTsrvoKj6x9Ax3MpgQiIHXOJec5wVeRk4NyTb_HONh6JYA4QSoy6v7svx_cI5TgpidebPLuPc4AfQN5_WMXwgxvdX8qxl-iHAA7sxvTCGb6Sxo5IGS3Edj0GUEHP2kPuA8-jyZLPYcEQx9w37zEZJTcE1j6lh31ywDD9Zdq0/s1728/H%20Nic%202.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2ac6xnUfrQLHMltvCzOsTsrvoKj6x9Ax3MpgQiIHXOJec5wVeRk4NyTb_HONh6JYA4QSoy6v7svx_cI5TgpidebPLuPc4AfQN5_WMXwgxvdX8qxl-iHAA7sxvTCGb6Sxo5IGS3Edj0GUEHP2kPuA8-jyZLPYcEQx9w37zEZJTcE1j6lh31ywDD9Zdq0/s320/H%20Nic%202.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Nicholas<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>We then moved on to the Dockland area. There are many sights to see in that area. The newest (and one I had not seen before) was the Elbphilharmonie, a concert hall finished in January 2017 to a cost of 870 million euros. </b></span> <span style="background-color: white; color: #202122;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>The glass construction resembles a hoisted sail, water wave, iceberg or quartz crystal resting on top of an old brick warehouse. Inside is quite impressive and you can get on a long escalator to the top with amazing 360-degree views of the dockland and city.</b></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202122;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202122;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWL68LQ3eoj4KQ_NGOefClv3R8Q9Q1fN4jFQRxrcL5wWeYka134BdZvcVCBt6tUVFNsO-KE3Pg5bCUN4nXIvGAFzyBpq5dURgAbcLdlWWvmwwxoF8UTHP3KYhcRyemKW8enF5jx2RdzFssRy4nbM_b63OZjqNuIPZNcV155ww9u1IH5C_CuV1mIQ2R_g/s1728/H%20Elbphil4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWL68LQ3eoj4KQ_NGOefClv3R8Q9Q1fN4jFQRxrcL5wWeYka134BdZvcVCBt6tUVFNsO-KE3Pg5bCUN4nXIvGAFzyBpq5dURgAbcLdlWWvmwwxoF8UTHP3KYhcRyemKW8enF5jx2RdzFssRy4nbM_b63OZjqNuIPZNcV155ww9u1IH5C_CuV1mIQ2R_g/s320/H%20Elbphil4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLd7HA9dHUG6qgSLSmLyyi3H9KfZUDXx0owE9QgrjbGRCjZuR_ZYDt-1GFzUGLgBLnuPG4wlW2UV4NkROVAa6ATji9lYPU5rdFcfs7xvXm7GkCABqaeBmlhTLKXUhT_njZh2bXTCD2y6LPG9IBWSpXllnc8k17NNUUk8EKDr8O9vadH12bzeTec17T7I8/s1728/H%20Elbphil3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLd7HA9dHUG6qgSLSmLyyi3H9KfZUDXx0owE9QgrjbGRCjZuR_ZYDt-1GFzUGLgBLnuPG4wlW2UV4NkROVAa6ATji9lYPU5rdFcfs7xvXm7GkCABqaeBmlhTLKXUhT_njZh2bXTCD2y6LPG9IBWSpXllnc8k17NNUUk8EKDr8O9vadH12bzeTec17T7I8/s320/H%20Elbphil3.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0_JOvpNebA9lbQiKhOWeJuu3AAVPN5VnV-R2UiwDFcVIyiMjOJ53-Hbve4QrkqLEzDuXhMLwYDe536kA29Wi9E7YZTkbDBGE2Esbj7QQXJTO3RNHWH94yj9O5JKiTT6hiVxt1D-vfhu-XCrOMjRwhMJCov9cnNM1L8PiJeEeSBPYykUTEQojy3aY7U_o/s2048/H%20Elbphil%202.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0_JOvpNebA9lbQiKhOWeJuu3AAVPN5VnV-R2UiwDFcVIyiMjOJ53-Hbve4QrkqLEzDuXhMLwYDe536kA29Wi9E7YZTkbDBGE2Esbj7QQXJTO3RNHWH94yj9O5JKiTT6hiVxt1D-vfhu-XCrOMjRwhMJCov9cnNM1L8PiJeEeSBPYykUTEQojy3aY7U_o/s320/H%20Elbphil%202.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The escalator to the viewing platform at the top</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>The views of the docks are magnificent. Germany does not have much coastline and Hamburg (although not exactly on the coast but downstream on the very long river Elbe) is the main shipping port for the entire country. In the past, it built U-boats and navy destroyers, as well as being a major import/export hub. We were told it is now a favourite place for Russian oligarchs to have their yachts built - for the same price as the cost of the Elbphilharmonie mentioned above!</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyX_5pQWKS-QrFeNmrXBB9uqDDzG9ti04rLI3xuoxxxq9dWBzxVsKuzOX0seKhcSU4Xch6wAxBhg0_DhayH7dnfO1LWGZrB_IRYGWt3wEY92ylm76eXZ4KEvsaeY6XkZjkyrl2SpAVTKQYJnYZwqimqSv-HilFlyrEKvYFd8ygmTrmyaSKViQiadsUhwU/s1728/H%20dock%2013.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyX_5pQWKS-QrFeNmrXBB9uqDDzG9ti04rLI3xuoxxxq9dWBzxVsKuzOX0seKhcSU4Xch6wAxBhg0_DhayH7dnfO1LWGZrB_IRYGWt3wEY92ylm76eXZ4KEvsaeY6XkZjkyrl2SpAVTKQYJnYZwqimqSv-HilFlyrEKvYFd8ygmTrmyaSKViQiadsUhwU/s320/H%20dock%2013.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidt1Yehq5NN8NHZvvZtoOzBns7Qhmj4hlM180W1jH7hF3_Y_GvhwKz9SOKqZ6GFH8uUo9vOM6n3o8q-NXo8Zk5JFnuTXlWRNpfs4ocaXT3Br00CB7drg6fycOY38V_T3lWe7lP-ptfb6q2d4iVt1-uWwLy6N7p8zMViXiKrwVd8ELaz8ApZy5B12Uq2aI/s1728/H%20Dock%2015.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidt1Yehq5NN8NHZvvZtoOzBns7Qhmj4hlM180W1jH7hF3_Y_GvhwKz9SOKqZ6GFH8uUo9vOM6n3o8q-NXo8Zk5JFnuTXlWRNpfs4ocaXT3Br00CB7drg6fycOY38V_T3lWe7lP-ptfb6q2d4iVt1-uWwLy6N7p8zMViXiKrwVd8ELaz8ApZy5B12Uq2aI/s320/H%20Dock%2015.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg86ASlj_Q8hjvc7cijiP6TJomJdkYblYGuBVhDPReUqRS9p0H1axstzfsXICZBUMf51tNorXGRG3eWE_E_YeYR3tBM9BWxRFlYH3XxhwXzqiab8wYoNzPJ-LBLOW7Ic6CsBxU9elgmdp3z_Pyrjub8wV0pXexlVdcJnNxFGO3K9KlGK8itIE4DcLdNnGI/s1728/H%20Docks10.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg86ASlj_Q8hjvc7cijiP6TJomJdkYblYGuBVhDPReUqRS9p0H1axstzfsXICZBUMf51tNorXGRG3eWE_E_YeYR3tBM9BWxRFlYH3XxhwXzqiab8wYoNzPJ-LBLOW7Ic6CsBxU9elgmdp3z_Pyrjub8wV0pXexlVdcJnNxFGO3K9KlGK8itIE4DcLdNnGI/s320/H%20Docks10.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIveSznErkOQ-BJUbQnEFmofuy0XQxVB9BVL6IQFRcGO9DNtnoitJohthpuIpYjBnl-G3JMfKmJQYZXyUAzFJfq63gQybEe6LkHBjRhZyb7l-3gVo54IRmb2NJCGxp6fdZMzKV68GeuTsnVZmug8TpLF-ybLm6kCZQm5lBLXPMRX7mzmJW5p_8UrAMiWY/s1728/H%20Dock13.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIveSznErkOQ-BJUbQnEFmofuy0XQxVB9BVL6IQFRcGO9DNtnoitJohthpuIpYjBnl-G3JMfKmJQYZXyUAzFJfq63gQybEe6LkHBjRhZyb7l-3gVo54IRmb2NJCGxp6fdZMzKV68GeuTsnVZmug8TpLF-ybLm6kCZQm5lBLXPMRX7mzmJW5p_8UrAMiWY/s320/H%20Dock13.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: right;"></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>The area houses a lot of warehouses which, like many in the UK, have been turned into expensive flats and shops.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxai5ZSYFsen_fu_xOvNkcPtF1yXclvNl12vrmVfuPy3EDVbF0NQ54fvbmkCxlW6-v8rCPbCX93_MG260nz7p8FI0antMwMqatFhIf_ZkrBDZmNCWwiEMhhyphenhyphenFvM1OsEBKT3p7-R8m7TJzCYz0WTyKAJE2aXs3FjdKABFByeNk_YXh3vXhvObjap3hPN9A/s2048/H%20Walk%205.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxai5ZSYFsen_fu_xOvNkcPtF1yXclvNl12vrmVfuPy3EDVbF0NQ54fvbmkCxlW6-v8rCPbCX93_MG260nz7p8FI0antMwMqatFhIf_ZkrBDZmNCWwiEMhhyphenhyphenFvM1OsEBKT3p7-R8m7TJzCYz0WTyKAJE2aXs3FjdKABFByeNk_YXh3vXhvObjap3hPN9A/s320/H%20Walk%205.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7idxh97NUrpcI4DSE25vkXC3GMJATDBrgl5KtqsrvJ3xjtNMgbUE5VaG9eB-j_qxtR640Y3flv1oE1ScngmG5rKmd-FdaN04riwy0vRRbCy37q8BJ33dGcuselyK5CeAa_ILnh2tTQpVvk6kVbVBu4aHZrmpCqRYOgluQO1Ntuerx7CStUAP-PqTdwr0/s2048/H%20Walk%206.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7idxh97NUrpcI4DSE25vkXC3GMJATDBrgl5KtqsrvJ3xjtNMgbUE5VaG9eB-j_qxtR640Y3flv1oE1ScngmG5rKmd-FdaN04riwy0vRRbCy37q8BJ33dGcuselyK5CeAa_ILnh2tTQpVvk6kVbVBu4aHZrmpCqRYOgluQO1Ntuerx7CStUAP-PqTdwr0/s320/H%20Walk%206.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>The walk ended up in the area where I had not spent my student life - The Reeperbahn. It is Hamburg's infamous night club and red-light area close to the docks. (I had visited it once with a gang of students on a rowdy night out but never seen it during the day.) It is still a red-light area but women visitors are not allowed in certain streets or the ladies of the night will throw vile things at them. It is also home to where the Beatles first started out and this has been acknowledged in various monuments and street names.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge046CIWkbemPIHsusT_RRAPdlCQngpM0fz03KWUfQxXiiU52u1Bd23CvjvYMEzTwwPdG0f2OtmZVlNpGpt9cDrJ5HAmsmw4Kl5LoS-tPNliQLMg7sVyFKWJLArZ2UoEzEZV2onE-6u_y_pRW2bvqxNMl7DQapw8Q7I5fK5dNhm7YMjiKR_6rHrUyq7V0/s1728/H%20Reeperbahn5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge046CIWkbemPIHsusT_RRAPdlCQngpM0fz03KWUfQxXiiU52u1Bd23CvjvYMEzTwwPdG0f2OtmZVlNpGpt9cDrJ5HAmsmw4Kl5LoS-tPNliQLMg7sVyFKWJLArZ2UoEzEZV2onE-6u_y_pRW2bvqxNMl7DQapw8Q7I5fK5dNhm7YMjiKR_6rHrUyq7V0/s320/H%20Reeperbahn5.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnqRjshL1NfC_ZbUzFPRVjSPba_TTFNBb1CV-aQzQ6M0UkhZlwjdfZfM1FBXbPRc_GN-t74zyJujzzaX523OMGCsq-YREBr9GIPZxrPkfobqqfX0g2wHGTTQ3hw0eFMHlv2cVWXuHtdnWOJkRcdew1MuoPbMICHlGBJCzb-n1CrJDEBam-vBHPZ7-qzco/s1728/H%20Reeperbahn%206.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnqRjshL1NfC_ZbUzFPRVjSPba_TTFNBb1CV-aQzQ6M0UkhZlwjdfZfM1FBXbPRc_GN-t74zyJujzzaX523OMGCsq-YREBr9GIPZxrPkfobqqfX0g2wHGTTQ3hw0eFMHlv2cVWXuHtdnWOJkRcdew1MuoPbMICHlGBJCzb-n1CrJDEBam-vBHPZ7-qzco/s320/H%20Reeperbahn%206.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdd_sjJF38j5Svtb7w6Hne-thagHUVplfVbSM_amkSYleG-JNY2C0Pb_QiYAX10grOoS5KQXkW3ozcD6ODSWtZEYS6LAJPnEAhyphenhyphen8_lZbpnN3PR1g2eIyIzDOq5tmc8_2mBkXTaiAdAFuc12A24jaFJRB8nbAmr92_DmHUyQz3sUo4vJ5sGSeVEBEWq7U/s1728/H%20reeperbahn%207.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdd_sjJF38j5Svtb7w6Hne-thagHUVplfVbSM_amkSYleG-JNY2C0Pb_QiYAX10grOoS5KQXkW3ozcD6ODSWtZEYS6LAJPnEAhyphenhyphen8_lZbpnN3PR1g2eIyIzDOq5tmc8_2mBkXTaiAdAFuc12A24jaFJRB8nbAmr92_DmHUyQz3sUo4vJ5sGSeVEBEWq7U/s320/H%20reeperbahn%207.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beatles monument</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSaLgy7eN2PRso808EeeedoY8Ro1jQme-mNSoraRI44Xit-Lj9EM6P_KJGA3ZnLdub8wLLshcL434TBmwyjQRyoT4GTABdWS0g10EPUpyLqvsGF0yeE9TQgwhC0fbnKgKpJvod38OxUT2yEBjXDc7LzdHcVDQpxkOy5NUh-V0sEqhki-ggYb64aAVDt58/s1728/H%20Reeperbahn%208.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSaLgy7eN2PRso808EeeedoY8Ro1jQme-mNSoraRI44Xit-Lj9EM6P_KJGA3ZnLdub8wLLshcL434TBmwyjQRyoT4GTABdWS0g10EPUpyLqvsGF0yeE9TQgwhC0fbnKgKpJvod38OxUT2yEBjXDc7LzdHcVDQpxkOy5NUh-V0sEqhki-ggYb64aAVDt58/s320/H%20Reeperbahn%208.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8iN3iSdMmKoF9gTxVboalmxtHy7V672hajYIwz4bGVLqtkKbHhJFSm3XfAyLvFHgBQlELaTUwj-BGdazW5x9m1BY3xhU_0hRUgeDCuF-5tJ1nHfY9JJX5CrUGS6rswG-Clp-z4Gn3HMgVLwTu3L6zfegcuuGXl9_ws3LV6rap8x7VFY004UfiA2_uUW4/s2048/H%20Reeperbahn1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8iN3iSdMmKoF9gTxVboalmxtHy7V672hajYIwz4bGVLqtkKbHhJFSm3XfAyLvFHgBQlELaTUwj-BGdazW5x9m1BY3xhU_0hRUgeDCuF-5tJ1nHfY9JJX5CrUGS6rswG-Clp-z4Gn3HMgVLwTu3L6zfegcuuGXl9_ws3LV6rap8x7VFY004UfiA2_uUW4/s320/H%20Reeperbahn1.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poster still in the club where the Beatles used to play</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>Can you believe, I took over 300 photos of my nine days in Germany and these are but a few. There was so much to see and so much to reminisce in. I leave you with a couple of pictures of the Christmas market to get you in the mood for Christmas.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMmtArHKRoj0rzGUJ27HKLMhpZsv8xSo-Bp_LTWlh9xwKmg9f7arwcdkgdC5hwrGcNxvX-xuoWvsjgnTzb0ZwWY5MhsKs1FNbfbNy6uNmhG_gl4wxCZLsMls7-agIehjx1DcFJNLwudH9Yfw85QXsxy_W5_ZbF-Jauoxmw5D0Swv_dtjlV1qVk1YZwDOE/s1728/H%20weih25.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMmtArHKRoj0rzGUJ27HKLMhpZsv8xSo-Bp_LTWlh9xwKmg9f7arwcdkgdC5hwrGcNxvX-xuoWvsjgnTzb0ZwWY5MhsKs1FNbfbNy6uNmhG_gl4wxCZLsMls7-agIehjx1DcFJNLwudH9Yfw85QXsxy_W5_ZbF-Jauoxmw5D0Swv_dtjlV1qVk1YZwDOE/s320/H%20weih25.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhkTX0F5347pm21ipRVieQ5qWItow1gCKOaU3J1m07xxJLo3Omd6SC74uMcr9PtL1vwxAXi-Ifum_-l9qgpds3-TlH_V_ec1wLXXgXvQCtycASLo6PXnm8XmCkJsUG1b1E8gnMGaJTfdgWCMY9ebRBR1I9u3_ZhDik0i_njgvhCtKuZH9dzumXPjC_tWo/s2048/H%20Weih%2011.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhkTX0F5347pm21ipRVieQ5qWItow1gCKOaU3J1m07xxJLo3Omd6SC74uMcr9PtL1vwxAXi-Ifum_-l9qgpds3-TlH_V_ec1wLXXgXvQCtycASLo6PXnm8XmCkJsUG1b1E8gnMGaJTfdgWCMY9ebRBR1I9u3_ZhDik0i_njgvhCtKuZH9dzumXPjC_tWo/s320/H%20Weih%2011.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dziyw-FbGxXF_f6s6Fm9rHKcDcvcjOleZ8XNr1LbMVX2_gQKD5kaP6by9dCBc8eGbz1kg1df504c7COiTmCEA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">mulled wine and hot eggnog</div><br /><br /></div><b>We left Hamburg in driving snow and -6 degrees. As we sat on the plane, waiting for them to de-ice the wings and clear the runway, I was sad to leave. It had been the most wonderful return to Germany after so many years. I can't wait to return.</b></div></span></div><p></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-85260748658502423812023-12-14T10:24:00.055+00:002023-12-17T11:04:18.047+00:00Germany - Part 3 - Hamburg<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Our train journey from Berlin to Hamburg took us through the former East Germany or the Russian sector. My first train journey the other way from Hamburg to Berlin back in 1972, had involved stopping at the border between East and West Germany where East German guards boarded the train with ferocious looking German Shepherd dogs to examine our passports and look under the trains with mirrors to ensure there were no stowaways. There was none of that this time and our train left Berlin main station dead on time and sped through the countryside towards Hamburg. Apart from an occasional farm and huge stretches of forest, there was little to see until we got closer to what was originally the border with the West, when villages and towns sprung up wearing their brightest colours. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>As the train pulled into Hamburg main station, I felt very emotional. I had spent the academic year of 1971-1972 there as part of my university course studying German Language and literature and had been assigned to a grammar school in Hamburg to teach English. I had not been back since. Hamburg had not changed a lot, as it was already back in 1972 enjoying the freedom and successful economics of a Western democratic country. It was also one of the six founder members of the European Union or Common Market as it was known in those days. If anything, today, it has become very international in that it has many of the same shops we have here, which is sad, because I like to go abroad to see something different and not see the same shops I can find in my High Street - MacDonalds, Starbucks, H&M, Pandora, The Body Shop, Levis, Hollister, O2, Vodafone, Sketchers to name but a few. There are shopping malls there too which are new, but then I guess we didn't have many in the UK back then either.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Our first full day there was spent indulging me, because it was my birthday, so I dragged poor Kay and her fiance around in driving snow, hopping on and off underground (U-bahn) and overground (S-bahn) trains to visit all the places I had lived in Hamburg. During the course of that year I had lived in 4 different places. The first room was assigned to me by the school which employed me. It was in a vicarage, but literally on arriving in early September, the vicar showed me to my room and pointed out that the room did not include bedding, so I would need to go out and buy some. At that time Harold Wilson was the prime minister in Britain and had restricted money being taken out of the country to £70. I had taken the full amount with me to Germany, hoping to eke it out until my first pay cheque at the end of the month, but had to blow nearly the whole lot on bedding in the first few hours on German soil. The other thing the vicar told me was that I was not allowed to use the family kitchen or eat in my room and that I must eat out. As a young girl in a strange city famous as a raunchy seaport with a famous red light area, I was terrified to eat out alone, in case a passing sailor took a fancy to me, so used to squirrel rolls and cakes into my room and hope not to drop any crumbs. After a month of putting up with that, the school found me another lodging - this time with free board and use of the kitchen but having to look after two small children every evening while their mother went to evening school to get qualifications she never got at school. After a day teaching, I did not fancy using up my evenings to look after what were two very spoiled precocious brats, particularly as I was an only-child, only 20 and not experienced in childcare whatsoever. It meant of course that I had to say goodbye to any social life. I persevered until Christmas when one evening the mother was later coming back from her evening out than we had agreed which meant I had to miss something important I had arranged. After that, as my social life improved and I found the weekday childcare evenings were not helping with the whole German experience my course was meant to give me, I left with the agreement of the mother and stayed a few weeks in emergency university accommodation during the university holidays, but had to leave when term started again. Finally (fourth time lucky), I found the ideal room with a little old lady who fussed round me and made me very welcome. She more than made up for the bad experience I had had up to that point.</b></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gFfqAEkIcW-rLwwTz-GWo6loIHcN2fKrddvuUC4ySMGKwDRXbw1aIPfEqzyJlB7C0DFaQYfgdd_5kfXzIE9IinyOUSspar90BG-rS5xvyS5il5MphVE9NN-nD0G-82kqJws-rl9hK-fehxBHWc00peNixahQCTbIgsBwt1tfXeJjFTjRgG6JQKk8m1U/s260/H%20birthday%205.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="260" data-original-width="195" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gFfqAEkIcW-rLwwTz-GWo6loIHcN2fKrddvuUC4ySMGKwDRXbw1aIPfEqzyJlB7C0DFaQYfgdd_5kfXzIE9IinyOUSspar90BG-rS5xvyS5il5MphVE9NN-nD0G-82kqJws-rl9hK-fehxBHWc00peNixahQCTbIgsBwt1tfXeJjFTjRgG6JQKk8m1U/s1600/H%20birthday%205.jpg" width="195" /></b></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>The vicarage - my room was the three windows at the top.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b> </b></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDU8jqyEU3kqubfNBvw2qY9Dw7NnTzgjJvlzBtOKu-LdQabeUj_owIaBE3nTmbAXZrgMUmAZyUQstcGR_I8ZOOdaOcL_KwRs0xZgnRCdFGixz8JRz00V4Cd9TDpOQv4yypwDiZh4zSB5L7wZ2fdlblfamGqT9DeSoOI-7Bcir7sVSGMRkcpI7C85E3dqw/s261/H%20Birthday%204.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="196" data-original-width="261" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDU8jqyEU3kqubfNBvw2qY9Dw7NnTzgjJvlzBtOKu-LdQabeUj_owIaBE3nTmbAXZrgMUmAZyUQstcGR_I8ZOOdaOcL_KwRs0xZgnRCdFGixz8JRz00V4Cd9TDpOQv4yypwDiZh4zSB5L7wZ2fdlblfamGqT9DeSoOI-7Bcir7sVSGMRkcpI7C85E3dqw/s1600/H%20Birthday%204.jpg" width="261" /></b></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>The church across the road</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div></blockquote><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_SsYech7vUAQqLSbgVOyM7xKo-y1cgo5SusBtVYDhEh_I53-_RXg-w12JNf3WgJNWJTcaxUHNGaL70AaNHsYZ9odgehyDU_0fWxVbqa9AkLoPCtZJnAWEGsOLGA2l1gcLLwq9t4ZU0Xp3lnVg4avYOyhnxGNRSMDb8Udv8iEseD0rCAqIJOeOWUP43vg/s1728/H%20birthday9.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_SsYech7vUAQqLSbgVOyM7xKo-y1cgo5SusBtVYDhEh_I53-_RXg-w12JNf3WgJNWJTcaxUHNGaL70AaNHsYZ9odgehyDU_0fWxVbqa9AkLoPCtZJnAWEGsOLGA2l1gcLLwq9t4ZU0Xp3lnVg4avYOyhnxGNRSMDb8Udv8iEseD0rCAqIJOeOWUP43vg/s320/H%20birthday9.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>My room in the old lady's flat was here at the very top</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhXbrij7Un3mVJPiCmos-o_NhY19aYBfzZLURqs6oXbtQPgCBClAg83PuhmZK8XaqA2563fa3TO0BRiMrE7karL6_P6HIYufj6rm1GkME3ODrEOIHdM3i8TwAxfO5LSzana1D9mC4Q3F5zqOsbYvLvwI35iGmT-TPbvtfwXxG8EZFWrduCwMMhyphenhyphenWmotMY/s261/H%20birthday%206.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="196" data-original-width="261" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhXbrij7Un3mVJPiCmos-o_NhY19aYBfzZLURqs6oXbtQPgCBClAg83PuhmZK8XaqA2563fa3TO0BRiMrE7karL6_P6HIYufj6rm1GkME3ODrEOIHdM3i8TwAxfO5LSzana1D9mC4Q3F5zqOsbYvLvwI35iGmT-TPbvtfwXxG8EZFWrduCwMMhyphenhyphenWmotMY/w318-h239/H%20birthday%206.jpg" width="318" /></b></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>The grammar school where I taught English</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br />The rest of my birthday was spent hunkering in the warm from the snow eating humungous cakes, that only the Germans can excel in and finished off our day sheltering from the snow in the Christmas market.</b></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaD0twFSIi04W7FtV4oYRu6SeuJuycX-TFFtS-HHcEVLsz3xzvJbP0UrPFImpg2Hg5g_W4v5wrhap1bN9FCyElxOwk-bA8zi7EWiAaaBAZuEHUgWrpU3El4bgCYKWR3J-4C_RLsoiPKxJA73vHFel_0TaF_NGVsMQl6B6PonFLCQtKu8u5TJsGgZpoom4/s452/H%20Birthday1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="399" data-original-width="452" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaD0twFSIi04W7FtV4oYRu6SeuJuycX-TFFtS-HHcEVLsz3xzvJbP0UrPFImpg2Hg5g_W4v5wrhap1bN9FCyElxOwk-bA8zi7EWiAaaBAZuEHUgWrpU3El4bgCYKWR3J-4C_RLsoiPKxJA73vHFel_0TaF_NGVsMQl6B6PonFLCQtKu8u5TJsGgZpoom4/s320/H%20Birthday1.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Yummy birthday cakes</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br />More to come of our Hamburg trip in the next post.</b></span>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-41285198877778436652023-12-09T12:39:00.002+00:002023-12-09T12:40:49.889+00:00Germany - Part 2 - Berlin again<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>As I mentioned in the last post, Berlin is a city with baggage. The sights reflect this with so much to see about the Nazi era and the Cold war. I am old enough to have lived there and personally experienced Berlin (and Germany) when it was divided by a wall, so many of the "history" was well known to me. For the younger generation, like Kay and her fiance, though, it was interesting to learn about how it was. </b></span></p><p><b style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #363636;">The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Memorial_to_the_Murdered_Jews_of_Europe#:~:text=The%20original%20plan%20was%20to,the%20designated%20areas%20was%202%2C711.">Jewish Holocaust memorial </a>is amazing. The competition to design it was won by the New York architect</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #363636;"> </span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363636;">Peter Eisenman</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #363636;">. The memorial was ceremonially opened in 2005. </span></b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b style="color: #363636;">On a site covering 19,000 square metres, Eisenman placed </b><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363636; font-weight: bold;">2711 concrete blocks </span><b style="color: #363636;">of different heights - small as you enter, but getting taller and taller in the centre, giving you the impression of being hemmed in and oppressed. The ground beneath your feet undulates, making you feel uncertain on your feet and unsafe. </b><span style="color: #363636;"><b> </b></span><b style="color: #363636;">You can just about see the buildings around the </b></span><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><b>perimeter, but you are not part of it,</b></span><b style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"> giving you the impression of what it is like to be in a </b><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><b>ghetto where you cannot leave. The stones are roughly coffin-shaped and the paths between them narrow. You can occasionally bump into people as you meander through the site, but then never see them again, much as it might have been in the Nazi era when people were disappearing overnight, so it is very clever and well-thought-through monument.</b></span></p><p><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpZ4DaFp2gnAmtsEZo68ciLCD4bSnXwGVydqZeMil0jpJoZTL4vRx-nmdaD4XB8zjr6Wt1yzcgesxpz20Az5Z8AbJ96cCafvQCQgmV0T1K1ZKhh2-IV1FCIe_0ipVkcoGOKjfoKiRwQkcFfFlNfvgd_GPUIfZwtBOrCbwcm0v2r8urE15gesbR9cC8wQ4/s1728/B%20jewish%20memorial.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpZ4DaFp2gnAmtsEZo68ciLCD4bSnXwGVydqZeMil0jpJoZTL4vRx-nmdaD4XB8zjr6Wt1yzcgesxpz20Az5Z8AbJ96cCafvQCQgmV0T1K1ZKhh2-IV1FCIe_0ipVkcoGOKjfoKiRwQkcFfFlNfvgd_GPUIfZwtBOrCbwcm0v2r8urE15gesbR9cC8wQ4/s320/B%20jewish%20memorial.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNFheA8SEWzbLkjRhwegnHtopgCH0XgretSoQUiPKOuDY9YMjDoC_9it3jB47EeLdRR3QNy_nFtvASF5SbcjlemZngHSh8M6Jc-_g3S4ktQtyGcxuRWYgCYH33jHrCMuyvcsv5syHwG1q7v4qv-XSearlW485Wrzm9ZEegNCb-6ymabSGIvc9Pr4nEe8/s1728/B%20jewish%20memorial%204.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNFheA8SEWzbLkjRhwegnHtopgCH0XgretSoQUiPKOuDY9YMjDoC_9it3jB47EeLdRR3QNy_nFtvASF5SbcjlemZngHSh8M6Jc-_g3S4ktQtyGcxuRWYgCYH33jHrCMuyvcsv5syHwG1q7v4qv-XSearlW485Wrzm9ZEegNCb-6ymabSGIvc9Pr4nEe8/s320/B%20jewish%20memorial%204.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlniF_EUe0TVlq-jDsZlxUAu1z-jxvwcnLK_gsaBF17SjTvKU0oneJggndWjIKvSgJYSmDrHhCj1xkzcR5faAfs_Xp8UwZXwk3aM-BmhUVAka2ZKZ7lSGqZjbL4jMldZolC2Z25HkMX9JJeAfIYvPafh47H-ws22_OE3ys2dNPsl2v4xl1QCpTDCr_UVg/s2048/B%20jewish%20memorial.8jpg.jpg" style="font-family: Bahnschrift; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlniF_EUe0TVlq-jDsZlxUAu1z-jxvwcnLK_gsaBF17SjTvKU0oneJggndWjIKvSgJYSmDrHhCj1xkzcR5faAfs_Xp8UwZXwk3aM-BmhUVAka2ZKZ7lSGqZjbL4jMldZolC2Z25HkMX9JJeAfIYvPafh47H-ws22_OE3ys2dNPsl2v4xl1QCpTDCr_UVg/s320/B%20jewish%20memorial.8jpg.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivmrSR1M0A7HIE1WH5dBkQEAwy6tqunyc_tHYUUUFwmNTvXDpyPSGJ5uO1J6Qou4eP_EJ4eIAYG9OWD76QX9uxaVTvWU7cLeiHOJMJzWBmw7uvT3GrAP_BlH22vB-nbVJv_KvfBfjWvqzZfJcwWjtBA-0eGl0XS1IjR1r_9cjUk5yyIkFnXomGYCRmgzw/s1728/B%20jewish%20memorial%2028.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivmrSR1M0A7HIE1WH5dBkQEAwy6tqunyc_tHYUUUFwmNTvXDpyPSGJ5uO1J6Qou4eP_EJ4eIAYG9OWD76QX9uxaVTvWU7cLeiHOJMJzWBmw7uvT3GrAP_BlH22vB-nbVJv_KvfBfjWvqzZfJcwWjtBA-0eGl0XS1IjR1r_9cjUk5yyIkFnXomGYCRmgzw/s320/B%20jewish%20memorial%2028.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5uTryJ99sClDBeAwPDblyt81FhoQMEMI638uvyGymmnmYg82UTMIl09sRcKQjuONqN15ylXFUjTs7ma16lA5iyhOOpyBIZu0TfayGeSG7kqiaI3OJwnp9Yx-QWfOHzLkhuj_X2YHlh5-18UQoVehtp6evlGwl_wxMdzSktP8z8LqooBbGJu8gr9DnL8/s1728/B%20Jewish%20memorial%2070.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5uTryJ99sClDBeAwPDblyt81FhoQMEMI638uvyGymmnmYg82UTMIl09sRcKQjuONqN15ylXFUjTs7ma16lA5iyhOOpyBIZu0TfayGeSG7kqiaI3OJwnp9Yx-QWfOHzLkhuj_X2YHlh5-18UQoVehtp6evlGwl_wxMdzSktP8z8LqooBbGJu8gr9DnL8/s320/B%20Jewish%20memorial%2070.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b>Another must-see is Checkpoint Charlie - the border between the American sector and the Russian sector, where there was tension and a stand-off in 1961. If you want to read more about that <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2011/oct/24/berlin-crisis-standoff-checkpoint-charlie">see here</a>. I visited Checkpoint Charlie in 1977 when it was still an active border crossing, </b></span><b style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;">held by the Americans, </b><b style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"> but today it is a tourist sight complete with museum about the Cold War history and stories of attempted escapes across from East to West.</b><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS37OcSUL7JCZz6G_ItBSy4yC1jwlLmER0bKxN6N0XFbVkpO_OBF0fdGXHVvLK4zEuSWjhewvcrsgfRRrerpZNEX25KPZ0hduRU8b4ZK-VlnRb4HjbYo8KVE39voBWIw-Mc3SshW_DDjFhq-zvX8QwGVdpm-nc7ynSwZq_sULKVEIMwrn7maIloiIJAq4/s2048/B%20Checkpt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS37OcSUL7JCZz6G_ItBSy4yC1jwlLmER0bKxN6N0XFbVkpO_OBF0fdGXHVvLK4zEuSWjhewvcrsgfRRrerpZNEX25KPZ0hduRU8b4ZK-VlnRb4HjbYo8KVE39voBWIw-Mc3SshW_DDjFhq-zvX8QwGVdpm-nc7ynSwZq_sULKVEIMwrn7maIloiIJAq4/s320/B%20Checkpt.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAN95ADnVdfPlXuW1zquEDh2shrTFCo3DtRmjwBIkf2XZrBFcnz1yhfoAf1Z73-wgtUt4_FuFVcOoOTYIE_ia8OO7LLs_p-G1VoR6g-E_mU5dwn8DiaSHvRLIGpwasMnK9dA2XPt4oCtgmNyTHgwbXsBKrpPu4aZRhYasRm2b_zQWQHYNmylt3qzgBNww/s1728/B%20Checkpt%2012.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAN95ADnVdfPlXuW1zquEDh2shrTFCo3DtRmjwBIkf2XZrBFcnz1yhfoAf1Z73-wgtUt4_FuFVcOoOTYIE_ia8OO7LLs_p-G1VoR6g-E_mU5dwn8DiaSHvRLIGpwasMnK9dA2XPt4oCtgmNyTHgwbXsBKrpPu4aZRhYasRm2b_zQWQHYNmylt3qzgBNww/s320/B%20Checkpt%2012.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeUyjfPLf-fv95yc9qzh3njahl3xHjBOMRlPW-VTYn5uaQK4w3k-G_NMZXTBHYwz_ovwc-rfbfGswuogx5jC3tJJM9b-hmRmB6y4ikQrzu0vWRAih77KCuue_c6EkCureWvr2vmtR1U7iwdE3tJyVbEHJrw1RUmPJt1I3dHwfZRIeBLZTqDY-PsXr-uGg/s2048/B%20Checkpt1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeUyjfPLf-fv95yc9qzh3njahl3xHjBOMRlPW-VTYn5uaQK4w3k-G_NMZXTBHYwz_ovwc-rfbfGswuogx5jC3tJJM9b-hmRmB6y4ikQrzu0vWRAih77KCuue_c6EkCureWvr2vmtR1U7iwdE3tJyVbEHJrw1RUmPJt1I3dHwfZRIeBLZTqDY-PsXr-uGg/s320/B%20Checkpt1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0tZTykCxba4RxajnFK_sPEwvREde2P4rIxY8jzlt7NLixceh1B35cPuRvzOiAB-NkZ9NcMTzr-Uzfl3fkR9HaiZDsbO8XPtrQZYSTw47z0BnMynrJjK8BAsCDxg-9AgcRQk3MoiuklUAn7mo5EtqicAzeyxkkguSozr0uNw5uJumQQo3G4Nc3P9NtyGI/s1728/B%20Checkpt15.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0tZTykCxba4RxajnFK_sPEwvREde2P4rIxY8jzlt7NLixceh1B35cPuRvzOiAB-NkZ9NcMTzr-Uzfl3fkR9HaiZDsbO8XPtrQZYSTw47z0BnMynrJjK8BAsCDxg-9AgcRQk3MoiuklUAn7mo5EtqicAzeyxkkguSozr0uNw5uJumQQo3G4Nc3P9NtyGI/s320/B%20Checkpt15.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A favourite form of escape was to hide inside the engine of a car</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Most of the wall which divided Berlin has been removed, but there are still sites where bits of it have been left intact. One such place is East Side Gallery. <span style="background-color: white; color: #363636;">At </span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363636;">1.3 kilometres long,</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #363636;"> the open-air artwork is the longest continuous section of the Berlin Wall still in existence. Immediately after reunification in 1990, 118 artists from 21 countries began painting the East Side Gallery, and it officially opened as an </span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363636;">open air gallery </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #363636;">on 28 September 1990. Here is just some of the artwork to see.</span></b></span><p></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBkN4haBbdGXOKqZN1Qrs0ZvdJ3149mu4cPBMWWx_J22qo8YT8sWvaxUdX4122jLPmTF_1GyhBPRE2gZfp9J_hYQI688fzTQphr0QLXqh9_YciY1RGpHL02sJVC35iyfCInFa4RPQasFdQ-jnKFnWNSqUjqt15zxPGj7AV4pC8VwQTweoleNnh3zLriHk/s2048/B%20East2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBkN4haBbdGXOKqZN1Qrs0ZvdJ3149mu4cPBMWWx_J22qo8YT8sWvaxUdX4122jLPmTF_1GyhBPRE2gZfp9J_hYQI688fzTQphr0QLXqh9_YciY1RGpHL02sJVC35iyfCInFa4RPQasFdQ-jnKFnWNSqUjqt15zxPGj7AV4pC8VwQTweoleNnh3zLriHk/s320/B%20East2.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></div><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX54ahxGH2EWzFYvyaUNxzJWsO8eEfhMEZUbCKNLsrwGhYGo2qMQMmypFh_8OUDUtAfnQDDfcKwfqSbRbnOq4UwyPn3KvPN-lqfAI5Mg9FDa8laXU6hcNTYwej1benPdwVyug22PterTMj8GplZl-etTNNS6Py16UYsqTeMH0vyySOdOWECB9YTfxi2-Y/s2048/B%20east%2010.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX54ahxGH2EWzFYvyaUNxzJWsO8eEfhMEZUbCKNLsrwGhYGo2qMQMmypFh_8OUDUtAfnQDDfcKwfqSbRbnOq4UwyPn3KvPN-lqfAI5Mg9FDa8laXU6hcNTYwej1benPdwVyug22PterTMj8GplZl-etTNNS6Py16UYsqTeMH0vyySOdOWECB9YTfxi2-Y/s320/B%20east%2010.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73aiBvCI7nCBCgqwY2bmFbBL7uzVgC00BTHwwQPxe3yg1RVvkNvFJBLKLazt6r-Pv-b6h5M1TxvY0Pjlpc5rYV5Xz4EeG5esSvQu6oiADWtAAes9jtGKLvTvPOnZ1AHUzVoECzq4hGWW6thSXsjv8gQXRzUqg6MMrfaMX-7m-en7K8Oeh0PUsdf6Tngk/s2048/B%20East%2052.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73aiBvCI7nCBCgqwY2bmFbBL7uzVgC00BTHwwQPxe3yg1RVvkNvFJBLKLazt6r-Pv-b6h5M1TxvY0Pjlpc5rYV5Xz4EeG5esSvQu6oiADWtAAes9jtGKLvTvPOnZ1AHUzVoECzq4hGWW6thSXsjv8gQXRzUqg6MMrfaMX-7m-en7K8Oeh0PUsdf6Tngk/s320/B%20East%2052.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEYbM6HCvELSvLx4wqAtHbb23F6hdV8QvpckpbdDs1uw1ZVtaSkazcOKYGCNy14C-6V9v_nxvbFeOKII5L-wdT3VT18aVU_Noj2yFurWfNWwiA0jRkCKoEUzyb65fcWeAIR2CgNNGop8GQ-rMYE5Y6SYztDKE_11YseT3PiAslgKXeHtXfTI2oK2-ml4s/s2048/B%20East%2054.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEYbM6HCvELSvLx4wqAtHbb23F6hdV8QvpckpbdDs1uw1ZVtaSkazcOKYGCNy14C-6V9v_nxvbFeOKII5L-wdT3VT18aVU_Noj2yFurWfNWwiA0jRkCKoEUzyb65fcWeAIR2CgNNGop8GQ-rMYE5Y6SYztDKE_11YseT3PiAslgKXeHtXfTI2oK2-ml4s/s320/B%20East%2054.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2gUeKqCN4TjLEIBlyg14HczA5OyYhEVuGHvTX6eEj0rUOnlOSpUlOzdDYkj84zqNnaMNKLREYJnbeaJ6mweVLTN5kEsrtmg4PdOOG2zG_j5Csefbt600s9HCXQWL9ESNCUPQ44F2oBnyJeytjV_wHQNkFMDaUvIlWTfkTnaaGJ9S7SKt6QAFXsNRDwaM/s2048/B%20East%2055.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2gUeKqCN4TjLEIBlyg14HczA5OyYhEVuGHvTX6eEj0rUOnlOSpUlOzdDYkj84zqNnaMNKLREYJnbeaJ6mweVLTN5kEsrtmg4PdOOG2zG_j5Csefbt600s9HCXQWL9ESNCUPQ44F2oBnyJeytjV_wHQNkFMDaUvIlWTfkTnaaGJ9S7SKt6QAFXsNRDwaM/s320/B%20East%2055.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitikbrcbIU7qMpUIkk5Raj-pPDakpRQffs94cWS4W5NO_Y0AWeAMq97JfWaaXtp4M_wGLsewJ69FJ32dSVd8zzaylb78aVxOLl7ak67vfq7OKnyHYDKJpGtZcquR5rrqzn3hktmy7ungXemIMXfMWYhcFOLZ3HUL6Jo1Jw0wJ0ZGpnhkq_re3GmYWWfg4/s2048/B%20East%2056.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitikbrcbIU7qMpUIkk5Raj-pPDakpRQffs94cWS4W5NO_Y0AWeAMq97JfWaaXtp4M_wGLsewJ69FJ32dSVd8zzaylb78aVxOLl7ak67vfq7OKnyHYDKJpGtZcquR5rrqzn3hktmy7ungXemIMXfMWYhcFOLZ3HUL6Jo1Jw0wJ0ZGpnhkq_re3GmYWWfg4/s320/B%20East%2056.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6QCM3So6TnBLiSHzIvSU1U4QLJbUOke4IOmPgvA7ypS289rQG5Pay0vS3ydIZAjzfg3dEZniYsnZwIE4E-YKAfTCtObN-N59BPbj7x8lirp_9T4SF5EqVPcPMPekobbvz3tIqvS3VgR67vNdaZ14lw7xSFHVh4YAStzivirfVf4W3uZNRCI8LKyY_4Y/s2048/B%20East%2059.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6QCM3So6TnBLiSHzIvSU1U4QLJbUOke4IOmPgvA7ypS289rQG5Pay0vS3ydIZAjzfg3dEZniYsnZwIE4E-YKAfTCtObN-N59BPbj7x8lirp_9T4SF5EqVPcPMPekobbvz3tIqvS3VgR67vNdaZ14lw7xSFHVh4YAStzivirfVf4W3uZNRCI8LKyY_4Y/s320/B%20East%2059.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEios1xeRmt5WFb-rtd83nBx2a8sYkOLEdIYCUaYrGvrVOpt4Jf7hblelfUf2GOGPcmR3-uzRgfqBVY3vcXDw9ndniKsN3wzQ52lXOCgADW0MIAhGD7eEP7KUWWfC3XiU-Vy6KONi_anTsiokh89irU0pEx-HxJHtdR8Syj0Yo4BaAL4NYHrg6DADxHtWFs/s2048/B%20East%2061.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEios1xeRmt5WFb-rtd83nBx2a8sYkOLEdIYCUaYrGvrVOpt4Jf7hblelfUf2GOGPcmR3-uzRgfqBVY3vcXDw9ndniKsN3wzQ52lXOCgADW0MIAhGD7eEP7KUWWfC3XiU-Vy6KONi_anTsiokh89irU0pEx-HxJHtdR8Syj0Yo4BaAL4NYHrg6DADxHtWFs/s320/B%20East%2061.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;">Another interesting bit of the tour for me was to visit Bernauerstrasse. It was in the West of Berlin and right on the border with the wall which was at that part in an L-shape forming a corner. </span></b><b><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;">At that spot in 1977, I had climbed onto a platform up about 20 steps to peer into the East. </span></b><div><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span><b><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUhBHdAjaV0AaAmpk0MzjUO9DoDhjUfTMmd_sLMjK7U-qvLQk2X5_feePyo43H1drhG3_Nzk4-oCZo43EKKZAdUVQkpLXK0FTclt3H6BeHcsFCCMQCNU66NNa_JFhdHd2-oQS1XCCEtPHZy3zIOXcOcWx4pmpUCt3mwlI1ibDsQ7KNYyKy1CGRgUUTHHo" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUhBHdAjaV0AaAmpk0MzjUO9DoDhjUfTMmd_sLMjK7U-qvLQk2X5_feePyo43H1drhG3_Nzk4-oCZo43EKKZAdUVQkpLXK0FTclt3H6BeHcsFCCMQCNU66NNa_JFhdHd2-oQS1XCCEtPHZy3zIOXcOcWx4pmpUCt3mwlI1ibDsQ7KNYyKy1CGRgUUTHHo" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1977 Climbing the scaffold to view into the East beyond the wall.</td></tr></tbody></table></span></b><div><b><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;">Now the spot is marked by metal poles to show where the wall went.<br /></span></b></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvMU9kmTOFRuAiY5x9ap54iU_hGvhEgZH3Jo-Jl-RQDYfyp4bg311Bg7iMS1lPFAJD5v-ElD6CnJ53Ll94xHVfS3SRvY5pfegi9yPkKMGoBHucHSubpvX9ZKa8UqFnAygs2TFubhqDL6QuiK7h85oO0b1YrOb6Ui3XzXStR5bXV5IWRB_d-kwcSW8CE4/s2048/B%20Bernauer2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvMU9kmTOFRuAiY5x9ap54iU_hGvhEgZH3Jo-Jl-RQDYfyp4bg311Bg7iMS1lPFAJD5v-ElD6CnJ53Ll94xHVfS3SRvY5pfegi9yPkKMGoBHucHSubpvX9ZKa8UqFnAygs2TFubhqDL6QuiK7h85oO0b1YrOb6Ui3XzXStR5bXV5IWRB_d-kwcSW8CE4/s320/B%20Bernauer2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2023 the spot of the scaffold</td></tr></tbody></table><b><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieKfaRSUPl6c0A4MJ3O6fupl-E3jJ0TXOw5HXAhVetG4VL6i6xsufuzQNafnJHL1F65u_JWveSXwt85raaPl70u_Jn6SM7cWV31yf9uBkPYs6L43xWxAAGKP41KlpyQi_EbVfCQ7ru0NxwXZbCFrz0DHilvzzxXNJ8ZXpNtjtiGnM9ObyCxrF7pnLKNHE" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieKfaRSUPl6c0A4MJ3O6fupl-E3jJ0TXOw5HXAhVetG4VL6i6xsufuzQNafnJHL1F65u_JWveSXwt85raaPl70u_Jn6SM7cWV31yf9uBkPYs6L43xWxAAGKP41KlpyQi_EbVfCQ7ru0NxwXZbCFrz0DHilvzzxXNJ8ZXpNtjtiGnM9ObyCxrF7pnLKNHE" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The same view in 1977 from the scaffold. The white wall is visible and the minefield in front of that<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;">Apologies for the quality of the photos taken of 1977 - they are taken off a cine film made by my husband. </span></b><b><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;">East German guards sat in a watchtower across the way and it was patrolled with East German guards on motorbikes watching me, no doubt to see if I would pass messages to any passing East German citizens.</span></b></div><div><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: bold; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwboWXJIDTcGu46JzUmx3AN9TQ647MtyC3Zd9KDBEkn6WnjC4eWZah1GDWMrJwCai70ZTqMJYp8R3JK4Zv4P2y1pQ5u8_6xqSSBYBzJI9D13aR1TBcQaVwjLlahF_47t3ifq22Q8laC6FOL7WjxTAEGsW9znYkWjU6mvTE3LIoMKRV0CKVZgQ1xEz8h7s" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwboWXJIDTcGu46JzUmx3AN9TQ647MtyC3Zd9KDBEkn6WnjC4eWZah1GDWMrJwCai70ZTqMJYp8R3JK4Zv4P2y1pQ5u8_6xqSSBYBzJI9D13aR1TBcQaVwjLlahF_47t3ifq22Q8laC6FOL7WjxTAEGsW9znYkWjU6mvTE3LIoMKRV0CKVZgQ1xEz8h7s" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1977 East German guards watching me</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>The other view from the scaffold in 1977 was of a building directly ahead. It was drab and grey and bore the signage </b>Klub der Volkssolidaritat<b> (club of the people's solidarity)</b></span></div><div><span style="color: #363636; font-family: verdana;"><b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheKf8u0E9ae4Aiom4dtBlTOKNh0JyAv-7jXaNEylkIXu9HOUhytc3eureWzdjDoCemlhBmTTvAQuNKW-ZYS74vIlUQORH2XvJUdoGM8986X8DPjL2orhm99NATD2r1LW5KQ-IPMpX5h7Q6Q9E2Fk4_2YTb6-D5cwn89ZdGE7UAuVYc9-qXAZmAEJ-nzGo" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheKf8u0E9ae4Aiom4dtBlTOKNh0JyAv-7jXaNEylkIXu9HOUhytc3eureWzdjDoCemlhBmTTvAQuNKW-ZYS74vIlUQORH2XvJUdoGM8986X8DPjL2orhm99NATD2r1LW5KQ-IPMpX5h7Q6Q9E2Fk4_2YTb6-D5cwn89ZdGE7UAuVYc9-qXAZmAEJ-nzGo" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1977</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This is what it looks like now. Freshly painted in yellow and minus the signage.</b></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN1GKS9KeJ-7pMzU-bDjeyLnGYXw009UT-X4lJ2aXH6yogJKFoqAF2RGEZ15dj668KTnTheUVJnYXozfcyrWWehnoBYDwRzV51VleJEuNRYdXQCkghyphenhyphen8t3jizK5bmtOi-4GAEUs7bEgzTSF-8t_TarRf0wyvZxrRqxmyxCGdmVwv2QmFTfpFvRcSUOVQ4/s2048/B%20Bernauer.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN1GKS9KeJ-7pMzU-bDjeyLnGYXw009UT-X4lJ2aXH6yogJKFoqAF2RGEZ15dj668KTnTheUVJnYXozfcyrWWehnoBYDwRzV51VleJEuNRYdXQCkghyphenhyphen8t3jizK5bmtOi-4GAEUs7bEgzTSF-8t_TarRf0wyvZxrRqxmyxCGdmVwv2QmFTfpFvRcSUOVQ4/s320/B%20Bernauer.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view I could see beyond the wall in 1977 but much changed today</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Another reminder of the past is the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church located in the West of the city. Built in the 1890s it was badly bombed in 1943. Instead of rebuilding it or demolishing it, Berliners decided to keep the shell as a constant reminder of the pointlessness of war and built a modern version next door. I had never been inside the old church before, as back in 1977 it was still very much a ruin. Now, you can go inside and I was amazed how beautiful it was even as a ruin.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip6QTqvPb5wU640BQx79ZSIJO03tYlaYBXmF9uq1_xlFmFnPo_aPXkfB6CD8YIG2HKG3enXM7rn1Pm2t_piz4DaLd6r4haqPgvswsV7NVgMbwjYEdYSPH5-v9WZO7qb2b50_WR1acfoJE68qWoWHwSgGFO-5BBgKTfaM2P1jX0YLbz68ilSLw23UNpOII/s1600/B%20KWD6.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip6QTqvPb5wU640BQx79ZSIJO03tYlaYBXmF9uq1_xlFmFnPo_aPXkfB6CD8YIG2HKG3enXM7rn1Pm2t_piz4DaLd6r4haqPgvswsV7NVgMbwjYEdYSPH5-v9WZO7qb2b50_WR1acfoJE68qWoWHwSgGFO-5BBgKTfaM2P1jX0YLbz68ilSLw23UNpOII/s320/B%20KWD6.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old and new church side by side</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdmLCYrEhNzVpSQz2fdTKKRIu4O2MMQQ16YxFqs1ATvHYQMLWSx5ZFeBfuDv6UDYF_tEhY_1BY59A9LT3cv1rClFgxVt-P4FaaAf6n8crLv68TG1CIv5LmB-e_ukrED8AuGG7__y-k8iHhBIhK_C_qx3i0nDNUg3ZJG6w59PIqTwyIAVl7vNbMDKVzz4/s1728/B%20KWD14.jpg" style="font-family: verdana; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdmLCYrEhNzVpSQz2fdTKKRIu4O2MMQQ16YxFqs1ATvHYQMLWSx5ZFeBfuDv6UDYF_tEhY_1BY59A9LT3cv1rClFgxVt-P4FaaAf6n8crLv68TG1CIv5LmB-e_ukrED8AuGG7__y-k8iHhBIhK_C_qx3i0nDNUg3ZJG6w59PIqTwyIAVl7vNbMDKVzz4/s320/B%20KWD14.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the old church</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoma7E6RQGjugO_XKUD9xZTNQuvxj6AqlHSLkVX7J8lSw-7k1WIn19fFrrGr-fA5b210cgjQ9Sy_A3DjMBFmnYbwj2l93NkZEKvRBGd6NSMPw7LhPhbz1cRggFj0CHgUJ8O0Qwl_MrSbdZLFLeGZmq62D_9EYtKz48_rfSsjt4D_ztCJ2M5gC9QV8vV24/s1600/B%20KWD1.jpg" style="font-family: verdana; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoma7E6RQGjugO_XKUD9xZTNQuvxj6AqlHSLkVX7J8lSw-7k1WIn19fFrrGr-fA5b210cgjQ9Sy_A3DjMBFmnYbwj2l93NkZEKvRBGd6NSMPw7LhPhbz1cRggFj0CHgUJ8O0Qwl_MrSbdZLFLeGZmq62D_9EYtKz48_rfSsjt4D_ztCJ2M5gC9QV8vV24/s320/B%20KWD1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The magnificent ceiling</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnpx7l8nk1L_gYMz55iG-30aozTgMPsOvDbUiKpS5Fxg3oatOyiKzF14ccLt3wwUOzOuXWeQ2tQBee5yfrGUWt9b_7sORufno6yAA-LJ2e1Xtqfd6Vs5X3Nag4gINmwHIQQ0P4e8bSd_1dVR7HHjB2DXLijW_yXWc1UfUBMkyXtEK_x5xJwmdV80oEl-E/s1728/B%20KWD20.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnpx7l8nk1L_gYMz55iG-30aozTgMPsOvDbUiKpS5Fxg3oatOyiKzF14ccLt3wwUOzOuXWeQ2tQBee5yfrGUWt9b_7sORufno6yAA-LJ2e1Xtqfd6Vs5X3Nag4gINmwHIQQ0P4e8bSd_1dVR7HHjB2DXLijW_yXWc1UfUBMkyXtEK_x5xJwmdV80oEl-E/s320/B%20KWD20.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Better view of the new church</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: verdana; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4DujrtDWO43rHY_34B0GGUgAKsMKjM1ETojznbmKfuqNkfXbzpqC2ffDKGIzvX_GzkeiGHgiuVzR2KM43kIOxSJdcY8AsnBVzgzGAPK7kN227mgElW7omj6zycPT_9dLKpilhUvgVMQjTZWIwkS3xGS32cuJrK0ZobiutOIMfxVwvcYitSlEcOy3Fq_w/s1600/B%20KWD2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4DujrtDWO43rHY_34B0GGUgAKsMKjM1ETojznbmKfuqNkfXbzpqC2ffDKGIzvX_GzkeiGHgiuVzR2KM43kIOxSJdcY8AsnBVzgzGAPK7kN227mgElW7omj6zycPT_9dLKpilhUvgVMQjTZWIwkS3xGS32cuJrK0ZobiutOIMfxVwvcYitSlEcOy3Fq_w/s320/B%20KWD2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the new church</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2V5TXhJGijURQOJjn6XarbES1X7wif9ZHXwKLQw0NtSQWRp0YE_DMXp0OvpwA3USPbYc-zdcbX-GCaUAnQaLVkLA8WXtFwfa3F4kasSd1wFnl7vhEg6poIoia0ueN5eRTqRV5D4M3H18iwx47aSztDg2foH-irimkBcdP-ME1inM2g1JMTVPmGdytNs/s1728/B%20KWD9.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2V5TXhJGijURQOJjn6XarbES1X7wif9ZHXwKLQw0NtSQWRp0YE_DMXp0OvpwA3USPbYc-zdcbX-GCaUAnQaLVkLA8WXtFwfa3F4kasSd1wFnl7vhEg6poIoia0ueN5eRTqRV5D4M3H18iwx47aSztDg2foH-irimkBcdP-ME1inM2g1JMTVPmGdytNs/s320/B%20KWD9.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Stalingrad Madonna inside the new church drawn by the German soldier Kurt Reuber in 1942 at the Battle of Stalingrad</td></tr></tbody></table> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Many of the underground stations situated in former East Berlin have been modernised and some have shops in them, but this one at Klosterstrasse in the picture below seems very drab and bears the scars of Soviet occupation.</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJK1K_nlLnyVl5sk-DN0eQnYxkeTMnCQU_lXhWEerg0pVY8OmFJCf0nlxQiLtN2FPyvySAjIXYgW6RHC19Lr6qF3PBUZJlmQVcI8Fgo76KVJEic8wr5W8cQPIXOVXacec5-g6vQxuxa8au7pLZO3Gn9TSQIOX_80zSKNTtt3GQfaoaKw3LE7sl2SjCado/s2048/B%20U%20bahn.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJK1K_nlLnyVl5sk-DN0eQnYxkeTMnCQU_lXhWEerg0pVY8OmFJCf0nlxQiLtN2FPyvySAjIXYgW6RHC19Lr6qF3PBUZJlmQVcI8Fgo76KVJEic8wr5W8cQPIXOVXacec5-g6vQxuxa8au7pLZO3Gn9TSQIOX_80zSKNTtt3GQfaoaKw3LE7sl2SjCado/s320/B%20U%20bahn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Another quite emotional part of the visit for me was to find my great-grandparents' graves in a Berlin cemetery, which I had been unable to do before, because (you've guessed it) it was cut off in the Eastern sector. I had heard their names mentioned dozens of times in family folklore, but to stand before their graves was surreal. Despite a few freezing cold and hithertoo rainy days beforehand, the sun came out at that point, as if they were saying hello back to me.</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>On our last evening in Berlin, before moving on to Hamburg, the Christmas markets - of which there are many dotted all over Berlin </b></span><b style="font-family: verdana;"> - officially opened. </b><b style="font-family: verdana;">Of course that was an excuse for Bratwurst and </b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Glühwein. </b></span><b style="font-family: verdana;">Here are a couple of pictures of the main one in Berlin.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6pyr0EiGSr7DAcC1LVuaPxMdarx048EiItXCttWyIf9xQ2fI_VX6OeugfkAY6DpGcyExm0VtL3FZZ0oISRj9-uUWoESoXmikAaH7fK2YItkix3LO_4PGEqVZC5JFigTRjRrLWxkv10rYVzXWElXVeNCdGMQVrkA0AnQS3n3yALJK9gkCFmODYU4x4H4/s1600/B%20Weih%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6pyr0EiGSr7DAcC1LVuaPxMdarx048EiItXCttWyIf9xQ2fI_VX6OeugfkAY6DpGcyExm0VtL3FZZ0oISRj9-uUWoESoXmikAaH7fK2YItkix3LO_4PGEqVZC5JFigTRjRrLWxkv10rYVzXWElXVeNCdGMQVrkA0AnQS3n3yALJK9gkCFmODYU4x4H4/s320/B%20Weih%201.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj18ZfTvwgBd1_ufTMM1LRp9RhDVD7GVfRFtHcGs4OxkEOCwUZNlnoywQcIn5wNcRJufOoawDgYUgP4reSmPtf0vJq3wr-K2OTZQ1MiGzxtaHjanN4OjyUU8TXtgX9qsRAAZR_7hw5sFlugprQdDwASWNJKtzW_976gZ5Xb878KzoAx4H6PaH21WcNafg/s1728/B%20Weih2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj18ZfTvwgBd1_ufTMM1LRp9RhDVD7GVfRFtHcGs4OxkEOCwUZNlnoywQcIn5wNcRJufOoawDgYUgP4reSmPtf0vJq3wr-K2OTZQ1MiGzxtaHjanN4OjyUU8TXtgX9qsRAAZR_7hw5sFlugprQdDwASWNJKtzW_976gZ5Xb878KzoAx4H6PaH21WcNafg/s320/B%20Weih2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>More of the trip to follow in the next few days.....<br /></b></span><b style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></b></div></div></div>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-61086115713386656842023-12-06T11:44:00.005+00:002023-12-06T15:14:44.448+00:00Germany Part 1 - Berlin<div class="separator"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">I've just come back from the most amazing foreign holiday - one that I have wanted to do for a long while. It's to a place I went to over 46 years ago in one case and over 51 years ago in another. It was a return to my old haunts in Germany. As a young girl, I had studied German and German literature at university. My father was German, although he never spoke it at home, as he and his family had been forced to flee Germany for their lives in early 1939 and it was a part of his painful past that he </span></b><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">wanted to forget, so it made me more curious to get to know the language and converse with my German grandmother whose English was not very good. As part of the university course, I was sent to Hamburg in September 1971 for a year to teach English at a grammar school there. As part of my travels, I also visited Berlin, still very much divided by a</span></b></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEin0aqWbKT5hBYfuyCu4NnU1fKXbccIjiXAfCbBRNoYp1sY4mEY8L4ad0vH1Z8DgB4Msti6NKl5QDcMsyJqAlC9Q3UDb2UfDrUgEvyUamBGnIzeXkDZ6YguuXFHiGRJg4aQ0gK1Qd-Uit_YfW-i-JKfYfzWnndIrrjkACcDP00rxMTlRijb2zJaw4JW4H8" style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: 700; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEin0aqWbKT5hBYfuyCu4NnU1fKXbccIjiXAfCbBRNoYp1sY4mEY8L4ad0vH1Z8DgB4Msti6NKl5QDcMsyJqAlC9Q3UDb2UfDrUgEvyUamBGnIzeXkDZ6YguuXFHiGRJg4aQ0gK1Qd-Uit_YfW-i-JKfYfzWnndIrrjkACcDP00rxMTlRijb2zJaw4JW4H8" style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: 700; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhs8KEuYor4PXS3E7O4UeJTLYZyXNhQ-kTnl2IStxcyd-YCduWQrhUmG8eL65YcHMG2jJTtWB4LufzdM3qacDoQ8tq8RktZSMdIHJWfV9nN-0sdFnQ4RtJiKtYEBai53rhsoFZ5oBuoSH2bNHZ1kdgsJaX3gDBL0He9qIy5qHEX_O2RfF6gSBUB-8r6aZE" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhs8KEuYor4PXS3E7O4UeJTLYZyXNhQ-kTnl2IStxcyd-YCduWQrhUmG8eL65YcHMG2jJTtWB4LufzdM3qacDoQ8tq8RktZSMdIHJWfV9nN-0sdFnQ4RtJiKtYEBai53rhsoFZ5oBuoSH2bNHZ1kdgsJaX3gDBL0He9qIy5qHEX_O2RfF6gSBUB-8r6aZE" width="202" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Germany from 1945 to 1990</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div><p></p></blockquote><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">wall and part of it under Soviet rule. </span></b><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">I later revisited Berlin in 1977 with my husband, but, again, Berlin was still divided by a wall and West Berlin was very much an island in the middle of the German Democratic Republic (East Germany), which made sightseeing in the eastern sector of the city very hard to do indeed. For example it was impossible to walk through the Brandenburg Gate as it was very much surrounded by Soviet guards and watchtowers and there was a minefield in front of it, making access impossible.</span></b></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>As she knows, I don't fancy foreign travel on my own, so Kay had offered to accompany me to Germany one day to retrace some of my steps and to finally see Berlin without a wall and to be able to walk through the Brandenburg Gate. Her fiance, who has never learned German or been to Germany, fancied coming along too and so the three of us set off for Berlin on 23 November.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>As soon as I touched down at the airport, I found the German came back to me like my mother tongue and I acted as interpreter/translator for the whole holiday. As we occasionally got lost, I approached strangers with questio</b></span><b style="font-family: verdana;">ns and conversed at ease with them in German. It felt like being home again. My second home.</b></p><p><b style="font-family: verdana;">But Berlin had indeed changed. The absence of a wall preventing you from accessing certain areas was of course the most major change. The hotel we chose was in fact in what was the Russian sector during the Cold War. Although it had had 34 years of freedom, since the fall of the wall in 1989, you could still tell what areas were previously Russian as opposed to American/English/French. The street scene was somewhat plainer, as if the city was still trying to morph from an ugly duckling into into a swan. In fact when you think about it, that area of Berlin had not really changed much since the First World War, when it was on its knees from reparations, then the Nazi era, the second World War and then Soviet occupation. It has only therefore had 34 years to take on a new identity.</b></p><p><b style="font-family: verdana;">Berlin is certainly a city with baggage. It has resumed its role as capital of Germany (Bonn took over the role from 1949 to 1990) but still has many reminders of its grim past and these were </b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>reflected</b></span><b style="font-family: verdana;"> by the many sights on the tourist map. We visited as many as we could. Here are some of the photos taken whilst there.</b></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioGHu_KRukTjlAkgf9YpjEQsO3QtYkrPLzsVaNxFBrQKrHU4wXUF4L-QHSmUnnTDODHa_Smrx196t5aFExinanDgmeoWMw3ze8rVSsckTJuHxshyphenhyphena3Hs4P2jEbkhkpPq4gSP1BMc7M69Evzd9IDSQ54kpFd-CGGc1nbIESCa9Ej6kxRv8HSfEs7-mdMY0/s2048/B%20BRandenburg7.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioGHu_KRukTjlAkgf9YpjEQsO3QtYkrPLzsVaNxFBrQKrHU4wXUF4L-QHSmUnnTDODHa_Smrx196t5aFExinanDgmeoWMw3ze8rVSsckTJuHxshyphenhyphena3Hs4P2jEbkhkpPq4gSP1BMc7M69Evzd9IDSQ54kpFd-CGGc1nbIESCa9Ej6kxRv8HSfEs7-mdMY0/s320/B%20BRandenburg7.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brandenburg Gate by night</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinJUoqBfe6l6D0OTCppga-eqkBw3MAOQ2Gbr9N52JuDqAC-c-cK1gcD6SboDloV7-I9itcpsFTszEXnTVDsTegDmgdTlqKQ9oh996NZgsngXunCsRKEkUEa37ccuZLIaycbYA6dK5pnJ0a9EhQqFO8LWzqlBtrkeRysKbmiDIpwaFxkC4iQVPNJatRp-M/s2048/B%20Brandenburg1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinJUoqBfe6l6D0OTCppga-eqkBw3MAOQ2Gbr9N52JuDqAC-c-cK1gcD6SboDloV7-I9itcpsFTszEXnTVDsTegDmgdTlqKQ9oh996NZgsngXunCsRKEkUEa37ccuZLIaycbYA6dK5pnJ0a9EhQqFO8LWzqlBtrkeRysKbmiDIpwaFxkC4iQVPNJatRp-M/s320/B%20Brandenburg1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally able to stand on the Eastern side of the gate but sadly tarpaulin and scaffolding ruined the experience somewhat</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jN0WU_2deIEmlPpZmF98cGYQDT0s5sQ4ShzpS0C50SczYcWr2alGT6aGb3zv4JqPeY2cAqr5UPfK3LfdHuMb3kBgn5r6qJnl_iuJDq6ueQgq1KyATi2S9NR4yGX52n5bOLlkOXx_9OTyyElJbDQzNZ3J83mjvSRl7P2SUFV5jkKrpsW3Wy87FBd22ek/s2048/B%20soviet%20memoial%201.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jN0WU_2deIEmlPpZmF98cGYQDT0s5sQ4ShzpS0C50SczYcWr2alGT6aGb3zv4JqPeY2cAqr5UPfK3LfdHuMb3kBgn5r6qJnl_iuJDq6ueQgq1KyATi2S9NR4yGX52n5bOLlkOXx_9OTyyElJbDQzNZ3J83mjvSRl7P2SUFV5jkKrpsW3Wy87FBd22ek/s320/B%20soviet%20memoial%201.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Memorial to Russians killed in the 1939-45 war</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSv6CsAWY8rvVxxwRsabsF4pLDLxTjOqW698p7EBl_stbSd4rAF5mdstAWiau5P_gBOTLsEzUuJVoakQoaHt51Uer_tGLEmSl14ORaTKx3qg3-wWWCVLl1jXhnA5q7LYeXu9fuGtgGB3f8ewB2WLssyziFhiAvKeyls-zXwOzolOCeeZP_puMWktkWpP8/s2048/B%20Reichstag%207.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSv6CsAWY8rvVxxwRsabsF4pLDLxTjOqW698p7EBl_stbSd4rAF5mdstAWiau5P_gBOTLsEzUuJVoakQoaHt51Uer_tGLEmSl14ORaTKx3qg3-wWWCVLl1jXhnA5q7LYeXu9fuGtgGB3f8ewB2WLssyziFhiAvKeyls-zXwOzolOCeeZP_puMWktkWpP8/s320/B%20Reichstag%207.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">German parliament (Reichstag)</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLz3sD_ljLRuQsT28226RJbYuUl4dgFv00L1Adq5cWF3Im-H73j-YReum9rVRT8GsGtmPYn09QpokUrwxoBd1SzBG7UWPMqqGdsbFkkC6-N34s_cyQogqrHH_jcteXkSaZz9b4yngxTVOSogwuXcB622irDOwNA8QlllMoeavXGuB5OTX-FcBnC29c-to/s2048/B%20Reichstag40.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLz3sD_ljLRuQsT28226RJbYuUl4dgFv00L1Adq5cWF3Im-H73j-YReum9rVRT8GsGtmPYn09QpokUrwxoBd1SzBG7UWPMqqGdsbFkkC6-N34s_cyQogqrHH_jcteXkSaZz9b4yngxTVOSogwuXcB622irDOwNA8QlllMoeavXGuB5OTX-FcBnC29c-to/s320/B%20Reichstag40.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the Reichstag where you can climb to the dome at the top for fabulous views of the city.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVzTnmeRiSonI0hiYlg3ldwWYz-zYI-nbaDxYRPpeMvyxUd_2kMaTbX0VErxd5fR_7FGiFCLV8MGAIIGYAd-DsZt9hVv96uuP4OQhA8JkqQyhFxGVA-f0KiyAZvR6iK_t48fNDdjGjfvZ0qVXUO6-sbqVi8Z_hGItYoYtHDhkaRIh1ha1jWjmJsNyq4Q/s2048/B%20Charite3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVzTnmeRiSonI0hiYlg3ldwWYz-zYI-nbaDxYRPpeMvyxUd_2kMaTbX0VErxd5fR_7FGiFCLV8MGAIIGYAd-DsZt9hVv96uuP4OQhA8JkqQyhFxGVA-f0KiyAZvR6iK_t48fNDdjGjfvZ0qVXUO6-sbqVi8Z_hGItYoYtHDhkaRIh1ha1jWjmJsNyq4Q/s320/B%20Charite3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from The Reichstag of the now modern Charite hospital where my father was born.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPPIVtZwryralkYfh2He-JliXRWbY71xC6tDILSlORrv1bkt-0lAdTytypgRK-TCMJT4m5db4mURn5DafFbE7ZV7wnuXms1FlRuTcEDqBdKV0wFMzvSTdn20w7h8uZvlzzd3Zusg2riwenQQuaa3ACq1kl4v6Fl1bzemfrX8dFMeDUbkf3vNuhht2RfYk/s2048/B%20Reichstag13.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPPIVtZwryralkYfh2He-JliXRWbY71xC6tDILSlORrv1bkt-0lAdTytypgRK-TCMJT4m5db4mURn5DafFbE7ZV7wnuXms1FlRuTcEDqBdKV0wFMzvSTdn20w7h8uZvlzzd3Zusg2riwenQQuaa3ACq1kl4v6Fl1bzemfrX8dFMeDUbkf3vNuhht2RfYk/s320/B%20Reichstag13.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of the Parliament chamber</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnwsEN_gXdvA0jzrFRYV7yLqqAvfZNvJ-xH-dRTl5jxQ87RWMjgLIO24r-yaIdcmn6z2GdnEAQml9aRVltsZZwLDvQN_M_DIaFhwrW_sP4vesGCGWV3Od2V4Ed1f9bHqzEp_4aWhxrJWR3XUjU-dMekiV6bNoUQyuEa3HjJbLb27_W6DEOZNVbtVY290/s2048/B%20Alexander3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnwsEN_gXdvA0jzrFRYV7yLqqAvfZNvJ-xH-dRTl5jxQ87RWMjgLIO24r-yaIdcmn6z2GdnEAQml9aRVltsZZwLDvQN_M_DIaFhwrW_sP4vesGCGWV3Od2V4Ed1f9bHqzEp_4aWhxrJWR3XUjU-dMekiV6bNoUQyuEa3HjJbLb27_W6DEOZNVbtVY290/s320/B%20Alexander3.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The television tower in Alexanderplatz, formerly in the East</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjINSBe08BInyHfEjf1dKu0kL47H3RAm-MxReoOJeKCneB5UQS6pbnxmRK7P9d2Yiuyi-SXG8qy0qi-vRkDYacJmzAgTZY4M31atlY7gFwefrzQI2Xb_dogQD8izLUeaaof1jUFPL1yXXB8r51urQ4lww4fphDpP2RM5adJ-sWoAFuEcYtH9biA-C4rmGQ/s2048/B%20HOtel%201.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjINSBe08BInyHfEjf1dKu0kL47H3RAm-MxReoOJeKCneB5UQS6pbnxmRK7P9d2Yiuyi-SXG8qy0qi-vRkDYacJmzAgTZY4M31atlY7gFwefrzQI2Xb_dogQD8izLUeaaof1jUFPL1yXXB8r51urQ4lww4fphDpP2RM5adJ-sWoAFuEcYtH9biA-C4rmGQ/s320/B%20HOtel%201.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ironically, built as a symbol of soviet strength and communism, they didn't realise that when the sun shone on the tower's orb, it made the sign of a cross! Zoom in to see it.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFH2LGwWzf0uehBz2GBSdF5Dd14RoQj9KWS421m5VI3qgi4npki46tT6V42XMilyU15FlpiMxzRF4XyGNMzpWWR6UTi_bnWQrbA_lv-uKciITLWbfvhQxMrKbNcyzEJS8auJC2Tf7W07FrV5MRYnJatetMQ3W5DdSPtGsCpE1WjApt6sSU9rGjJXnoTw/s2048/B%20Dom2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFH2LGwWzf0uehBz2GBSdF5Dd14RoQj9KWS421m5VI3qgi4npki46tT6V42XMilyU15FlpiMxzRF4XyGNMzpWWR6UTi_bnWQrbA_lv-uKciITLWbfvhQxMrKbNcyzEJS8auJC2Tf7W07FrV5MRYnJatetMQ3W5DdSPtGsCpE1WjApt6sSU9rGjJXnoTw/s320/B%20Dom2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Berlin Cathedral</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObpZM15kt50PTJlnaGKYUvX6uUXu0sFFadkN7WH4LVKqf54EUJyFHJbN2zS0CWx7sKJqXEY0fmuhDwL1ryyxnq5UsQfxFTWDZPUKLFo4yaTal_x0LlaMqRgEcB_PVq8rEgJVzbR2VJFqtxdUF4DUgiEIObhiiuEXaDXF_vr9FmS73ctmG4vzqC3dradI/s2048/B%20Alexander%201.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObpZM15kt50PTJlnaGKYUvX6uUXu0sFFadkN7WH4LVKqf54EUJyFHJbN2zS0CWx7sKJqXEY0fmuhDwL1ryyxnq5UsQfxFTWDZPUKLFo4yaTal_x0LlaMqRgEcB_PVq8rEgJVzbR2VJFqtxdUF4DUgiEIObhiiuEXaDXF_vr9FmS73ctmG4vzqC3dradI/s320/B%20Alexander%201.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kay's fiance decided to order the pork knuckle for supper</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>More of our trip in the next few days......<br /></b></span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-6266122535708306822023-10-16T08:30:00.078+01:002023-11-18T10:27:26.421+00:00Happy Centenary again<p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><b>Today, if he were still alive, my father would have been 100 years old. I posted on <a href="https://alcoholicdaze.blogspot.com/2023/08/happy-centenary.html">16 August here </a>that my mother would have been 100 too. Dad always joked that he was her toyboy, but only with a two-month age gap.</b><p></p><p><b>He was born on 16 October 1923 in Berlin. The youngest of two boys. I suppose you could say his parents were middle-classed, both coming from professional families. His father was Christian, had served in the First World War and received the Iron Cross for bravery. His mother descended vaguely from a Jewish background, although she had never been in a synagogue in her life and certainly did not practise the faith. Life in 1920s Germany was quite hard, even for the middle classes, and devaluation saw people bringing their weekly wages home in suitcases as they needed them to to carry the hundreds of banknotes that were almost valueless. His father was a chemist by trade and owned a chemist shop in Berlin, but by the late 1920s they moved to southern Germany where he took up the post of a chemical dye rep for a large chemical company. </b></p><p><b>Gradually they began to see the writing on the wall, as the Nazis rose to power. The fact that my grandmother was not a practising Jew or even remotely Jewish, did not count for anything, nor the fact that both their children had been raised as Christians. The Nazis went back six generations to prove your ethnicity and so the family started to make plans in 1938 to escape. Things came to a head when my father's brother, my uncle, was taken at the age of 17 to Buchenwald concentration camp in November 1938, probably as part of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kristallnacht">Kristallnacht</a> pogroms. Fortunately my grandparents were able to "buy him" out of the camp some three months later with the promise that the family would leave and never return to Germany. So in early 1939, my father (aged 15) and uncle (17) were sent to England on the Kindertransport to work on farms. Dad couldn't speak a word of English apart from hello, goodbye and thank you. As luck would have it, he was put on a farm where the family only spoke Gaelic!! Fortunately there was a young lad in the village who was studying German at Oxford and they became friends, helping one another with their respective foreign language skills. </b></p><p><b>The British government at that time did not welcome immigrants, even then (sounds familiar?), and the plan was that they could only stay in this country for a year and would then have to move on, but fortunately when war broke out in September 1939, Dad, his brother and their parents (</b><b>who by then had also safely made it to this country</b><b>) were allowed to stay. All three men were then interned on the Isle of Man while their papers were looked into to ensure they weren't German spies. Dad always talked of the British army, who guarded them, being very kind to them. They spent about six months there, before they were given the all-clear. They then joined my grandmother who by then had been employed as a housekeeper for a very rich Quaker family who had helped them move to England. My grandfather became the gardener for the family, both doing very different things from what they had done in Germany. </b><b>Dad, now a young man, meanwhile worked for Hertfordshire council, clearing land to grow food for the war effort. That is how he met my mother, who was in the Women's Land Army. (<a href="https://alcoholicdaze.blogspot.com/2023/08/happy-centenary.html">see here</a>). </b></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKa458L18il4rpHF_uuAPfoU5XsyFa0k8nb-XQK5IUuAHNY3-4jjhqMt-eTbUqNBDdYV7ZHd6d7UbuZ_Ip5LhBqZLZ5UNfeLVhucqvx2Lr_T8b8keG9FARxGXviX7ygHZRPphv0KV16u4XUhppD2r40BO1W2TB3l1Z0oNWpdbYeNq_fZRH7mbntdWejiM/s2480/IMG_0001.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1860" data-original-width="2480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKa458L18il4rpHF_uuAPfoU5XsyFa0k8nb-XQK5IUuAHNY3-4jjhqMt-eTbUqNBDdYV7ZHd6d7UbuZ_Ip5LhBqZLZ5UNfeLVhucqvx2Lr_T8b8keG9FARxGXviX7ygHZRPphv0KV16u4XUhppD2r40BO1W2TB3l1Z0oNWpdbYeNq_fZRH7mbntdWejiM/s320/IMG_0001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><b></b><p></p><p><b><b>After they married in 1947, they lived apart for 3 years, as housing in London had been badly bombed and they each had to live with their parents, who lived on opposite sides of London. Eventually they were able to rent somewhere together and I came along in 1950. Everything he did, he excelled in. He won prizes for ploughing fields and eventually for baking the perfect Hovis loaf - Dad had after the war learned the profession of bakery and cake confectionary and gradually rose through the ranks of small bakers until he became Manager of the Cake Department of a very famous department store in Piccadilly,London, which serves the Royal Household. Maybe the initials of the store (F&M) means something to you. One of his claims to fame was that he made the wedding cake for Princess Margaret. In order to get on the housing ladder, own his own house and get a mortgage, he also did evening work on 5 weekdays, teaching cake-making and decoration at evening school. As a child, I barely saw him, except on Sundays, when we as a family made the weekly visit to my German grandmother on the other side of London and Dad was made to mow her lawn or paint a room on his one and only day off. </b></b></p><p></p><p><b>In latter years, Dad had heart trouble and my parents decided to move to the south coast where he could then go part-time at a local bakery and take things easier. Even there he took on extra work, teaching patisserie at a local cordon bleu school. When Kay was born, he was a doting grandfather and used to spend hours in his garage making a dolls house complete with the most amazing miniature furniture. Sadly, when Kay was a small child, it was discovered he had leukaemia. Unfortunately he went on to get two types simultaneously (chronic lymphatic leukaemia and acute myeloid leukaemia) and he slipped away on 1 February 2001. I shall never forget that awful day as I had just been admitted to hospital myself to undergo a necessary operation (<a href="https://alcoholicdaze.blogspot.com/2011/02/worst-day-of-my-life.html">see here</a>).</b></p><p><b>Kay and I have been at the south coast this weekend, laying flowers at the crematorium, where he rests. A great man, whom I still miss, even though it is now 22 years since he died.</b></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj40uCSuoDCJBWKQMFa1MNA0eGsts0Ck-qSoU22dD6aGCYi1eKeqEZvaKq8OrCqBxcemiyx4BQTfOMbCjxBk_raof_-1Qli2S2Gb_pQPpa1JXFwFiAKwjMoJrwcYP3QCJxX7rs1JqGyND_jJnalAiNnhknA-44yGVMtGMHpa1U_wRV_K8BFCOT5vdWvRXI/s4608/Dad.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj40uCSuoDCJBWKQMFa1MNA0eGsts0Ck-qSoU22dD6aGCYi1eKeqEZvaKq8OrCqBxcemiyx4BQTfOMbCjxBk_raof_-1Qli2S2Gb_pQPpa1JXFwFiAKwjMoJrwcYP3QCJxX7rs1JqGyND_jJnalAiNnhknA-44yGVMtGMHpa1U_wRV_K8BFCOT5vdWvRXI/s320/Dad.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad aged 70</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-42503096615558784462023-11-11T17:21:00.006+00:002023-11-11T17:21:58.222+00:00Poorly<p><b>To my horror, It's been a month since I wrote anything. I've been partly busy but also partly poorly with another flare-up of acid reflux. My throat and stomach feel on fire and it's rendered me a pathetic version of my normal self. So much for the gastroscopy procedure I had done on 15 September. My GP has increased my medication from two tablets a day (the normal maximum dose) to three a day which I have to take for no longer than a week as it can cause serious problems including liver damage. I am desperate to get better as I am going away soon and don't want to be ill, especially as it is a trip I have been longing to do for years. So a bland diet for me. If I never see another boiled egg again, I shall be happy!</b></p><p><b>I must confess my nerves have been on edge too. What with the stress of not knowing whether I'll be better in time, all the news about Gaza and Israel is really distressing. I know Israel felt justifiably wronged by the Hamas attack on 7 October, but two wrongs don't make a right and what Israel are doing to innocent people in Gaza is beyond belief. They have more than made their point and it's time to hand it over to an arbitrator. Mind you, it's kinda of that that got them in that mess in the first place, when Britain handed over part of Palestine to become the Israeli state in 1947. If you haven't seen it, the TV series <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1692202/">The Promise</a> is a good place to start.</b></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-11612067880234400392023-09-29T11:22:00.000+01:002023-09-29T11:22:00.138+01:00Fine line<p>Living alone, as I do, and now over 13 and a half years as a widow, I have increasingly tried to fill up my time, so that I am not always on my own with lonely thoughts or watching too much television. But there is a fine line between being unoccupied and having no time to fit things in. I was much reminded of this today when an old friend I was supposed to meet for coffee this morning, cried off at the last minute as she had gone down with a dreadful cold that had rendered her bedbound. She asked when we could arrange another meeting. She can only do certain days and looking at my diary, the next available date is in a month's time. </p><p>I volunteer at a foodbank once a week, then at the foodbank charity shop once a week, as well as the local park information centre. I go to two choirs and try to get to the gym at least twice a week. That leaves very little time to fit other stuff like housework, shopping, gardening, medical/dental appointments and meetings with friends. Not to mention fitting in my annual flu and covid injections. I suppose I should be thankful I am fit enough to have a busy life, but it can be quite stressful sometimes, when I can't fit things in. I wish I could decide what to drop, but I enjoy all of those things equally. Well, maybe not the covid and flu injections!! </p><p>Additionally, at the moment, Kay is busy trying to find THE wedding dress for her wedding next summer, so I am also busy visiting bridal shops with her. We've been to a few over the last month, but so far nothing has jumped out at her as being THE ONE. We've got another visit at the weekend. As I am going to be the one to give her away, I am also trying to find time to write the first draft of the "Father of the Bride" speech. Yet another thing to fit in.</p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-73370705306274905772023-09-19T12:23:00.004+01:002023-09-19T15:08:13.370+01:00Medical matters<p><b>The last few months have been spent sorting out a medical problem I have. Following an <a href="https://alcoholicdaze.blogspot.com/2016/04/im-back-and-geoffrey-is-no-more.html">operation I had back in 2016</a> to have a stomach tumour removed, I now have a funny-shaped stomach which can cause me problems from time to time.</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUZs4zFf3RqdNNIfzCFg30_2vXzR7XMZC7TmS1GThBlDg_AZZtl84A-9TbIc_LF4yXsCodIsA45EcInmIZZYc4RoptZw95jMyqsWenko9cq7dk6O7epv5T3tS-jFoHJFZ7RBAdvhlReEdmQ-FqaqzrCdy6yqNe6IZWggPhlVQ3mOEvy3sVHP-14NX9h2E" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img alt="" data-original-height="206" data-original-width="155" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUZs4zFf3RqdNNIfzCFg30_2vXzR7XMZC7TmS1GThBlDg_AZZtl84A-9TbIc_LF4yXsCodIsA45EcInmIZZYc4RoptZw95jMyqsWenko9cq7dk6O7epv5T3tS-jFoHJFZ7RBAdvhlReEdmQ-FqaqzrCdy6yqNe6IZWggPhlVQ3mOEvy3sVHP-14NX9h2E" width="181" /></b></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>The diagram above shows the oesophagus tube at the top coming from the throat into the stomach. The tube at the bottom is the beginning of the intestines (duodenum) leading from the stomach. The little lines at top and bottom of the stomach are the valves or sphincters that keep the food inside the stomach for digestion. The red dot marks the spot where the tumour was growing into the stomach wall and the black line round that red dot is where they cut to remove the tumour. Instead of being bag-shaped my stomach is more like a crescent. I have titanium staples to close off the stomach wall where the tumour was excised. I have as a result what they call a sliding hiatus hernia, where the top pointy bit of my stomach pokes through my diaphragm and gets stuck there. This can occasionally cause a bit of discomfort, but is bearable. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b>My biggest problem is that I suffer from acid reflux, where the stomach acid rises up into the throat and can burn it. I have to watch how late I eat (usually not after 7pm) as I need the food to digest before I lay down to sleep. Also I have to avoid spicy or fried food. It is quite annoying that most restaurants these days seem to add chilli or curry to just about everything, so that it can be a nightmare what to choose when eating out. Alternatives are often deep fried too or doused in onions, which are also to be avoided, so I wish there were more options in restaurants for those requiring a blander diet. I have been on permanent medication (omeprazole) since the operation to reduce acid production, but in latter years I often wake in the middle of the night choking on acid, as it rises up in my sleep. It is like vomiting while asleep. Usually in my half-sleepiness, I can grab a glass of water to neutralise the acid, but a few months ago, that did not seem to help and my throat and oesophagus were badly burnt and ulcerated. This resulted in a long series of tests to see if the tumour had returned but thankfully the good news was.... it hadn't. </b></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>However the gastroscopy revealed the presence of the hiatus hernia, some polyps caused by long-term use of omeprazole and thirdly that, despite fasting 6 hours prior to the gastroscopy I still had food in my stomach. The consultant changed my medication from omeprazole to an orodispersible lansoprazole and decided to order a second gastroscopy for last Friday. The purpose of that was to stretch the pyloric sphincter - the valve at the exit of the stomach that closes off the stomach from the duodenum. The consultant explained that when they had removed the tumour, they had cut through nerves in the stomach wall that tell that sphincter to open and release food. That was now a little compromised, which meant that food stays in my stomach longer than it should, as it takes too long to get through that sphincter. By stretching the sphincter, it would encourage it to open better. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>I was told to stop eating the night before the second gastroscopy, so my last meal was at 8pm on Thursday. I also had to refrain from drinking anything - even water - on the day of my procedure. Because I had opted for sedation during the procedure I had to have someone accompany me home afterwards in case I walked in front of a bus and was also supposed to have someone with me for 24 hours. Kay was working nightshifts at the hospital last week and weekend, so couldn't accompany me or sleep over. I got a choir friend to accompany me and a neighbour to be on high alert by phone if I needed her during the night.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>My appointment was at 2pm on Friday. I was less worried about not having eaten for 18 hours, but the journey by train and then bus into central London on a very hot sunny Friday was murder, as I was desperate to drink or even sip something. After I had been given a hefty whack of sedation, the gastroscopy was done, the pyloric sphincter was duly stretched by the consultant and I was given a written report to take home afterwards. Can you believe it, my stomach STILL had food in it, despite fasting for 18 hours! So hopefully that stretching procedure will help. I suppose having food sit around in my stomach that long means there is acid working on it too which makes me more prone to acid reflux especially when lying down in the night. I have had a gentle few days relaxing and on a bland diet, until the stomach recovers. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Fingers crossed this will do the job. I see the consultant again in January for a catch-up.</b></div><p></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-3526545327764777422023-09-05T22:04:00.009+01:002023-09-05T22:23:16.107+01:00Well worth it<p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">There have been many times over the last few years, when I have considered stopping my blog. I started it 15 years ago in 2008, when I was going through a tough time, coping with a husband who was intent on killing himself with alcohol. I had stupidly believed keeping it quiet from everyone was the only way to deal with it and certainly the shame and embarrassment I felt about even telling my nearest and dearest, let alone a wider circle of family and friends, was not worth it. I had even made my daughter keep it from her friends at school as I just did not want anyone knowing. How wrong could I be?</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Of course that belief could not be sustained and, as my crazy world got crazier and more like a nightmare, and, as my daughter's school work began to suffer, because of the chaos at home, something had to give and <a href="https://alcoholicdaze.blogspot.com/2008/05/out-of-closet.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">my blog was born</span></a>. It was a mental release for me to type down my thoughts and frustrations and, then it began to morph into a diary and then later a guide for others going through similar alcohol-related problems. The comments I used to get helped me believe others were there for me, even if I didn't know them at all. At times, I'd get up to 70 comments per post and that buoyed me up. Attending Al-Anon (for families living with alcoholism) also made me aware that I was not the only one going through living with an alcoholic and somehow made me open up more and more first to those close to me and then eventually to others who might read the blog.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Nowadays, I often go back to those early posts to relive that nightmare and see how far I've come since, in being brave enough to cope with a life without my husband. Having no siblings or even cousins, means I am alone in this world now, apart from my daughter Kay, and I have to forge a life alone, finding my own entertainment and making new friends and distractions. It had disheartened me somewhat to see the comments dwindle over the years, as people lost interest in the drama that was my life thirteen years or more ago. Rereading those posts has been an insight into the world I once lived in, but it just seemed it might be time to stop the blog, as the diary was getting less and less interesting, to me and probably to others as well.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Or so I thought. Until I read a comment on my blog yesterday. I had been well aware that there night be those who just read and never comment, but I had living proof of that yesterday, when someone commented out of the blue that I was the reason they had stopped drinking and that they often revisit the early years of my blog to stay sober. It made me feel incredibly humbled that I had actually helped someone. For all I know, I may have helped more than one, but if it has helped just one person re-assess their drinking and the effect on their family, it has indeed been worth it. And so, for that reason alone, I shall continue for the time being to put out the occasional post and keep the blog alive in the hopes it reaches out to someone somewhere in need of support.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">For anyone who has alcohol problems or lives with an alcoholic and would like help, please refer to the USEFUL CONTACTS tab at the top of the blog page. For those who want to know what it is like to live with an alcoholic and watch them die, then read the posts between 2008 (when the blog started) and especially up to 2010 (when my husband died). You'll find these in the ARCHIVE tab.</span></b></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-31842075781572607182023-08-28T08:10:00.010+01:002023-08-28T08:10:00.139+01:00Battersea Power Station<div class="separator"><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfMP0tVST6arvURsZpHgj2QW3tMlK4Hx20Yavgoeb6Zft5EZ9d1RZZEU7HkdErIwxYC0SqYprieOX7LnhnPYdK_FC6QneYy-EQ6fiSUqs42IYtFutKSVA1AjV3KWMLA-p_Qf4FEdymIe1iJGnDAZHlJYC-9ZPY8uxkn_aj6Fw7rMcjmCIB9EpESFNGT0/s2048/exterior.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfMP0tVST6arvURsZpHgj2QW3tMlK4Hx20Yavgoeb6Zft5EZ9d1RZZEU7HkdErIwxYC0SqYprieOX7LnhnPYdK_FC6QneYy-EQ6fiSUqs42IYtFutKSVA1AjV3KWMLA-p_Qf4FEdymIe1iJGnDAZHlJYC-9ZPY8uxkn_aj6Fw7rMcjmCIB9EpESFNGT0/s320/exterior.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><b><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A few weeks ago, I had a hospital appointment in central London, so Kay and I decided to make a day of it and visit the new Battersea Power station complex. I say "new" but it has been open since October 2022. I just hadn't had a chance to go along and see it before now, although I often pass it on the train.</span></b><p><b><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Work began on the power station in 1929 and was designed by the architect Sir Giles Gilbert Scott. By 1935 the first turbine hall A was completed and put into operation. Work on a second turbine hall was halted because of the Second World War. RAF pilots used the smoke from the chimneys to guide them home, as did the Luftwaffe to bomb London. In 1955, the second turbine hall B was completed. In 1980 the Art Deco building was awarded Grade II listed status, but sadly in 1983 the power station ceased to generate electricity and was decommissioned. It lay idle for many years while various investors looked at it but decided against it. Finally, in 2012, Malaysian property investors bought it to create a new community of homes, shops, cafes, restaurants, cultural venues and open space for London.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAktwv9z11maKOLBJB-b_DNXH8zkHUPlerBolcptbLn31nA9dfSGkXT9FBfDNAfFw1xmm_uLrKIkJcCdhb6AbxYiD5IVfXCcE8Ey3g4GcmMG6QZNO7WB23JyAnj2W0bxKLbjXwU723VBaZy8PqJKZYFCn_AugDwxpnyp5bGGT_v3ier3rqiXcKrz_9jUY" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAktwv9z11maKOLBJB-b_DNXH8zkHUPlerBolcptbLn31nA9dfSGkXT9FBfDNAfFw1xmm_uLrKIkJcCdhb6AbxYiD5IVfXCcE8Ey3g4GcmMG6QZNO7WB23JyAnj2W0bxKLbjXwU723VBaZy8PqJKZYFCn_AugDwxpnyp5bGGT_v3ier3rqiXcKrz_9jUY" width="180" /></a></div><b><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br />Many of the hi</span></b><b><span style="font-family: helvetica;">gh-rise flats, which have been built around the power station, <a href="https://batterseapowerstation.co.uk/property-to-let/?bedroomsMax=1&campaign=Battersea+Power+Station">with rents</a> of up to £5,000 per month, overlook the Thames, others overlook the adjacent railway lines and many overlook the rooftops of South London. There are offices in the complex too, but can only obviously be accessed by those who work there. The shops inside the actual power station are not the usual High Street chains, but upmarket ones like Cartier, Rolex, Apple, Chanel, Lego, Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein and too many many more to mention. There is even a Polestar car showroom. The shops are arranged on three levels around what was the original two turbine halls and the bit in the middle is where the boiler hall would have been. There is a food arcade on one of the levels with very many different world cuisines on offer, as well as street food outside on the riverbank.</span></b><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2Sxgm8tSp6DeTlvKoI3zp2LjREE3786nJ2uzLiX6txFZkLa5MlZ79Me4u8V3kkUmPD_t_WpEKvxAxrA2PCLdbZKwBu5JpOVw-lVba9ChymbV69m1Q8xxQSzgOUbBaVqJplBHbtOczxLDPXR26bxPHb5wYPDMiE3XOMgWKpKtYIEtpMXlzSU5823o3uo/s2048/interior%20and%20shops%20(1).jpg" style="font-weight: 700; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2Sxgm8tSp6DeTlvKoI3zp2LjREE3786nJ2uzLiX6txFZkLa5MlZ79Me4u8V3kkUmPD_t_WpEKvxAxrA2PCLdbZKwBu5JpOVw-lVba9ChymbV69m1Q8xxQSzgOUbBaVqJplBHbtOczxLDPXR26bxPHb5wYPDMiE3XOMgWKpKtYIEtpMXlzSU5823o3uo/s320/interior%20and%20shops%20(1).jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUlx_5YJw1r97ePxK-hSNmOmIvTYTWNDGOOxqYt1Deyc9NyCS7FT1BsVtvRosRhjKGMgEdDLgZaB5Nf9SqBhLrTAfHKwivdBXPuNbWxeCzhqf5spdzDQ73dGtO0JPgmRNdkm27IQ939sxu9_y649Kh3AU26xyEjfVPsQXleDt-eLoad_XgAbnGuZECog/s2048/interior%20and%20shops%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUlx_5YJw1r97ePxK-hSNmOmIvTYTWNDGOOxqYt1Deyc9NyCS7FT1BsVtvRosRhjKGMgEdDLgZaB5Nf9SqBhLrTAfHKwivdBXPuNbWxeCzhqf5spdzDQ73dGtO0JPgmRNdkm27IQ939sxu9_y649Kh3AU26xyEjfVPsQXleDt-eLoad_XgAbnGuZECog/s320/interior%20and%20shops%20(2).jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVYkb_sv8Qva6VAuIlUH5NuHp_sp8gFCGpexXzPxNeuI9IQLlz9EnCstfgwafL5x-sKLuI2ljyNsJz18CfhDjoZWm7oVGkHS7o7dSIihXoP6PFje5_SirGQfwGlKLYmntZDI0J0AsW3bKw_9IJJCEabHcTiWc6nqUDT-ekDlD3EYwru6R3PioosNSlqQ/s2048/interior%20and%20shops%20(4).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVYkb_sv8Qva6VAuIlUH5NuHp_sp8gFCGpexXzPxNeuI9IQLlz9EnCstfgwafL5x-sKLuI2ljyNsJz18CfhDjoZWm7oVGkHS7o7dSIihXoP6PFje5_SirGQfwGlKLYmntZDI0J0AsW3bKw_9IJJCEabHcTiWc6nqUDT-ekDlD3EYwru6R3PioosNSlqQ/s320/interior%20and%20shops%20(4).jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><b><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I rather liked the juxtaposition of the old Art Deco brick building with modern steel and glass. </span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmekMjl1iNjAh8aPGH2F0LCoxgi6R-yXY17k9PMx94LBOkbKZNDIgFSGHRulhj3G3wpE_AN4I05SgwhZHaAc8ZQUwrM8K5RSUrVubc267ej5gVITrTrOZfbvrwQg9mpnC24ojOHmbAejdcJr8161cBQOk9JrPM_3EndTcRkMNhE96RXMhE_qP7moQxpf0/s2048/interior%20and%20shops%20(3).jpg" style="font-weight: 700; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmekMjl1iNjAh8aPGH2F0LCoxgi6R-yXY17k9PMx94LBOkbKZNDIgFSGHRulhj3G3wpE_AN4I05SgwhZHaAc8ZQUwrM8K5RSUrVubc267ej5gVITrTrOZfbvrwQg9mpnC24ojOHmbAejdcJr8161cBQOk9JrPM_3EndTcRkMNhE96RXMhE_qP7moQxpf0/s320/interior%20and%20shops%20(3).jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><b><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The most exciting bit of all is <a href="https://lift109.co.uk/">Lift 109</a> which is a lift that ascends one of the tall chimneys and gives the most amazing 360 degree views of London. It is pricey at £23 per person but well worth the information display beforehand and then the views from the top. We stayed up there for 8 minutes before the lift descended giving ample opportunity to pick out landmarks and take photos.</span></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWE0cqjrfNOWEIXDP5gOq7EskSAca1ortHmkKbfeQaDR3qEDIFoiffTvJUP0ItZRsPcOkj77_fRt57Dlqm-hOo0jTQrn-a8yGrLokQQ7DVDO1fnCVOLvcVzHCUcrAXzG8K9rZGVnYxezzg5rI0vobI5jj-udQ46854bGpwpTqLxd53_wj4Cimt5ubRtKA/s2048/lift%20109%20(1).jpg" style="font-weight: 700; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWE0cqjrfNOWEIXDP5gOq7EskSAca1ortHmkKbfeQaDR3qEDIFoiffTvJUP0ItZRsPcOkj77_fRt57Dlqm-hOo0jTQrn-a8yGrLokQQ7DVDO1fnCVOLvcVzHCUcrAXzG8K9rZGVnYxezzg5rI0vobI5jj-udQ46854bGpwpTqLxd53_wj4Cimt5ubRtKA/s320/lift%20109%20(1).jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the lift inside the chimney</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3bOtXWpNCyVTtJ_TxsPUz69TG1oPpsbHa9zmznGf4qHf7GbkUyeQhyTqDEGZTcAThcwXI89rRRTHmQDrqoNtI3WlFSgrm8dRod0JX4MtpB0mpbFgnBGECgtIffF83S2QODkOIHbCoksVhd5Gp_LGPt90FWf9uo-mDRU0af1LOpeoAgeyAxpJak_oqX1Y/s2048/lift%20109%20(3).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3bOtXWpNCyVTtJ_TxsPUz69TG1oPpsbHa9zmznGf4qHf7GbkUyeQhyTqDEGZTcAThcwXI89rRRTHmQDrqoNtI3WlFSgrm8dRod0JX4MtpB0mpbFgnBGECgtIffF83S2QODkOIHbCoksVhd5Gp_LGPt90FWf9uo-mDRU0af1LOpeoAgeyAxpJak_oqX1Y/s320/lift%20109%20(3).jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWE0cqjrfNOWEIXDP5gOq7EskSAca1ortHmkKbfeQaDR3qEDIFoiffTvJUP0ItZRsPcOkj77_fRt57Dlqm-hOo0jTQrn-a8yGrLokQQ7DVDO1fnCVOLvcVzHCUcrAXzG8K9rZGVnYxezzg5rI0vobI5jj-udQ46854bGpwpTqLxd53_wj4Cimt5ubRtKA/s2048/lift%20109%20(1).jpg" style="font-weight: 700; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB524iZD4bmA3eTGDZhpBP8N0WABgsY8ZTvMVWWQQ221zB844yqDHKMvzeeFT8Degh2nUeor7h8roldagVBGBMrq5dFrwAtBFbtBEVnHzTRPc_pgAjucmoEzZBWOJqYqNvtIWi8oWe9kOIAIxdKx1yiFY2Tw7yYyEKQsnV8RJxBgBrLPF83exTLWC45o0/s2048/view%20from%20top%20of%20lift%20109%20(1).jpg" style="font-weight: 700; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB524iZD4bmA3eTGDZhpBP8N0WABgsY8ZTvMVWWQQ221zB844yqDHKMvzeeFT8Degh2nUeor7h8roldagVBGBMrq5dFrwAtBFbtBEVnHzTRPc_pgAjucmoEzZBWOJqYqNvtIWi8oWe9kOIAIxdKx1yiFY2Tw7yYyEKQsnV8RJxBgBrLPF83exTLWC45o0/s320/view%20from%20top%20of%20lift%20109%20(1).jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the view from above</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4glUMyGKbjJIX3N7QqFbJmE70FfOEt1ovPuuHNS-jteAv4qItL1yuPjhUBc0eh24-0EPs7hGx5HEGwRztAsrgr716ks86O02tx2kCp8ZmrM1nFrlnbtmlDymW4DQclSl86u2ab7L6Hbm41RQwmKs3TGgO78WtcbiePUfGLE6DIeBUlaVaxcMduZ9rWnE/s2048/view%20from%20top%20of%20lift%20109%20(3).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4glUMyGKbjJIX3N7QqFbJmE70FfOEt1ovPuuHNS-jteAv4qItL1yuPjhUBc0eh24-0EPs7hGx5HEGwRztAsrgr716ks86O02tx2kCp8ZmrM1nFrlnbtmlDymW4DQclSl86u2ab7L6Hbm41RQwmKs3TGgO78WtcbiePUfGLE6DIeBUlaVaxcMduZ9rWnE/s320/view%20from%20top%20of%20lift%20109%20(3).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXgixDkDYXqv6L8XmNwlemeyv9d-McWK4PpmOrq-nXUwz9c0wqzqBNGCCCofjiv7z1rGNqfXTi_OMnCxxB-B4AgSeabB5_Yaauzn6ct13PUh-sKcOntdM-_CCpd_2HSQFBVyKyEK8ylxplG9oqV_GiGNDseKI2_lb5GmnOUYB6dvK8oJjAwl54viHytk/s2048/view%20from%20top%20of%20lift%20109%20(6).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXgixDkDYXqv6L8XmNwlemeyv9d-McWK4PpmOrq-nXUwz9c0wqzqBNGCCCofjiv7z1rGNqfXTi_OMnCxxB-B4AgSeabB5_Yaauzn6ct13PUh-sKcOntdM-_CCpd_2HSQFBVyKyEK8ylxplG9oqV_GiGNDseKI2_lb5GmnOUYB6dvK8oJjAwl54viHytk/s320/view%20from%20top%20of%20lift%20109%20(6).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-y7xmemuCavJfTokI8icVHwv02HCLqCRnRBL3uVdIq51LXhxKKVKteM9ZS1aEURdDGZ-6Ri90-RLO78UpdqVdRF39mWGbWkz1m0MGbNXH6hmCB9itR1kPRA3FbaTbSuPCgg4Cy-ljKcXBkCw963zZTk6zHDvuEhVB6Gl0-BJxzKp1ouZ_KdQ37V5gk-8/s2048/view%20from%20top%20of%20lift%20109%20(7).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-y7xmemuCavJfTokI8icVHwv02HCLqCRnRBL3uVdIq51LXhxKKVKteM9ZS1aEURdDGZ-6Ri90-RLO78UpdqVdRF39mWGbWkz1m0MGbNXH6hmCB9itR1kPRA3FbaTbSuPCgg4Cy-ljKcXBkCw963zZTk6zHDvuEhVB6Gl0-BJxzKp1ouZ_KdQ37V5gk-8/s320/view%20from%20top%20of%20lift%20109%20(7).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-41057304822598260932023-08-16T09:30:00.080+01:002023-08-16T09:30:00.142+01:00Happy Centenary<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiX4eYGgFsjUIlICBl8bBBTJveSBSl-t_yQCzA9DHRR0o3s1xcfwF9LG_R9TLyAl6pR5AFPa7rVdIM0aGF-5MBEgSDZMNOfG1C1m-LEO-oJuvfz6-2YIzi3xYRzZ_1Lo46r3KjrDBRaNxXRtKBB95CRbVWjTcS8r3k8wL-7et6PzvasHNgOcum7_uihJu0" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="320" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiX4eYGgFsjUIlICBl8bBBTJveSBSl-t_yQCzA9DHRR0o3s1xcfwF9LG_R9TLyAl6pR5AFPa7rVdIM0aGF-5MBEgSDZMNOfG1C1m-LEO-oJuvfz6-2YIzi3xYRzZ_1Lo46r3KjrDBRaNxXRtKBB95CRbVWjTcS8r3k8wL-7et6PzvasHNgOcum7_uihJu0=w262-h258" width="262" /></a></div><p></p><p>My mum was born on 16 August 1923, so today she would have been 100, if she had survived. Sadly, she died in 2017 at the age of 94.</p><p>She was born in London as the middle of three children. In January 1925, when she was about 18 months old, she, her 3-year-old sister and 6-week-old sister all contracted whooping cough and double pneumonia and ended up in hospital. The two little sisters died in the same week, but my mother thankfully pulled through, although her health was always frail from then on. </p><p>Her father had got a job as a junior in a French bank in the City of London as a teenager, but was called up soon after to fight in the 1914-18 war. He was badly injured in 1917 at Passchendaele, the most life-changing injury being to lose an eye, although other injuries to his head and leg caused shrapnel to give him life-long bad headaches. Although he was able to return to his bank job after the war, he found adding up long columns of figures a strain on his good eye. There were no calculators, so it was an arduous task. He therefore had little choice but to resign once he could no longer see properly, just at at time when the world was going through a massive economic recession in the 1920s. Mum said they moved after that to a rented shack in the countryside and kept chickens and goats, but, although my grandfather tried to sell the eggs at market, he came up against market cartels who excluded him and it paid very little. Her memory of childhood was eating mashed potato with gravy, day after day, and her only toys being a box of buttons and playing leapfrog with the goats. People on benefits today, just don't know how lucky they are!</p><p>Mum's mother was understandably suffering from stress, having lost two children in the same week, and could not settle. Nowadays there would be counselling and it would be labelled Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, but there was nothing like that then. Because she could not settle in any one home, they moved location many times between the wars, back and forth between London and the Essex countryside, so much so that my mother's education suffered. Always having to change school and make new friends did not help her confidence. By the age of 14, she was made to leave school and get a job. She loved doing people's hair and wanted to train as a hairdresser, but her mother said that was a filthy job, handling people's nits, so put her in a factory instead, operating big Heidelberg printing presses!! My mother was very shy and hated having to walk through the gangways where the men whistled at her and made lewd comments. As soon as she could, she got out of there and applied to an advertisement in the window of a ladies' fashion shop, as they wanted a junior assistant. She very much enjoyed that, modelling clothes for customers, and after a few years was trusted to add up the takings and take them to the bank. </p><p>In 1942, at the age of 19, she was called up for war work and she opted for the Women's Land Army. She was posted to Hertfordshire and a hostel in Barnet. Still painfully shy, she found it hard to mix with some of the more loud and experienced London girls in the hostel, who only wanted to go to dances and meet men. The foreman would send them off to work at local farms, clearing the land or tending to the farm animals. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN9NRpQOswmGiJM6eG6dKVoODVeqAK5ko5puKQ4EhkdVnu6GzxqQr3ZsoJ_gxQAzv73N0WzJfCyYsXsm7DOBJ7S689WABoVhJgdV_Wt9Ok_ljHksQ6MqH33q4mbyKC1JKqyzOfOBAgA-yCSgZgqpBbTRjYMmsfvag3FaPzTTC9U3b7OHgDctq0qru8jQc/s2444/IMG_0001.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1776" data-original-width="2444" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN9NRpQOswmGiJM6eG6dKVoODVeqAK5ko5puKQ4EhkdVnu6GzxqQr3ZsoJ_gxQAzv73N0WzJfCyYsXsm7DOBJ7S689WABoVhJgdV_Wt9Ok_ljHksQ6MqH33q4mbyKC1JKqyzOfOBAgA-yCSgZgqpBbTRjYMmsfvag3FaPzTTC9U3b7OHgDctq0qru8jQc/s320/IMG_0001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mum as a Land Girl (centre) meeting the Duchess of Gloucester</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>One day, she was sent to a farm where there were a lot of men working on the land. They were conscientious objectors or refugees who could not join the forces. The men were tying chains round the trees and connecting the chains to their tractors, then dragging the trees, roots and all, to clear the land. The Land girls were cutting the twigs and branches off the trees and putting them in a pile to be taken away or burnt on a bonfire. My mum tripped over one of the tractor chains and went flying. The handsome young tractor driver, a German refugee called Kurt, climbed down from his tractor and scooped her up. He asked her out, but she was so shy she declined. Kurt was very persistent and over the weeks that followed he kept inviting her on a date until she finally relented. He loved opera, about which she knew so little, so he would take her to watch operas or dine out in London. Considering how shy and reserved she was, introducing a German into the family as her boyfriend, when her father had lost an eye from German gunfire, was quite a bold thing to do!</p><p>They married in 1947 and I came along in 1950. They were married nearly 54 years and remained madly in love as ever until the day my father died on 1 February 2001. Because of health problems, she never really had a career, but was a housewife all the time I was growing up, but did have an office job in later years, which she thoroughly enjoyed. They retired to the South coast, but, after Dad died, her arthritis got worse and worse, so she couldn't cope on her own and I moved her closer to me in 2013 to a retirement flat in London, so I could visit her daily and help her.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyNmjmALN3d4HD-BRsDQB7D4dJyKsebtp6xbpSOSRYRyv6e8DkNh-qrHwnvkMLYktp49eLFmGD_zxGjy_iHSUKnSB6dcA7-pmtiPGGR4RBKoUqmwca0DeUlqcsPbVdqjJI2gIs2PaPoRRpSy1P-V9VjR2zrj6ophbYs0wa4DWVG2HWQ_06MvQww2RaPQ/s2816/visit%20to%20mum%20Oct%202007%20016.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2112" data-original-width="2816" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyNmjmALN3d4HD-BRsDQB7D4dJyKsebtp6xbpSOSRYRyv6e8DkNh-qrHwnvkMLYktp49eLFmGD_zxGjy_iHSUKnSB6dcA7-pmtiPGGR4RBKoUqmwca0DeUlqcsPbVdqjJI2gIs2PaPoRRpSy1P-V9VjR2zrj6ophbYs0wa4DWVG2HWQ_06MvQww2RaPQ/s320/visit%20to%20mum%20Oct%202007%20016.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying life on the South coast</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>She died in November 2017 and I miss her so much. It therefore seems right to spend today visiting the South coast resort, where her ashes remain with my Dad's, to spend the day with her.</p><p>Happy 100th, Mum. No birthday card from the Queen (or King, as we now have to say, although Mum would have something to say about that, I am sure), but at least I'll be with you in spirit.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2CrQlOoa0vwwNmjf8sSYEbPZvcBgr_8Tli7WERtH-kHEeNCcldQkdEFm6FSpgnlsMRkmAMNvYXZ0j_Vxc1Ae8siQf0qHUxXbT4driGE67aT5qcnwu1EVshr9Aj_mqv0SSz1es1eT7qwasPpiz_1h1DSL6q6SV715TSxV96Jt7m4O5xvDsCubhHwt6LWA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="805" data-original-width="720" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2CrQlOoa0vwwNmjf8sSYEbPZvcBgr_8Tli7WERtH-kHEeNCcldQkdEFm6FSpgnlsMRkmAMNvYXZ0j_Vxc1Ae8siQf0qHUxXbT4driGE67aT5qcnwu1EVshr9Aj_mqv0SSz1es1eT7qwasPpiz_1h1DSL6q6SV715TSxV96Jt7m4O5xvDsCubhHwt6LWA=w241-h269" width="241" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-83853072992149961012023-07-26T09:00:00.003+01:002023-07-26T09:00:54.708+01:00Little things please little minds<p>Every day I try to do the Wordle puzzle on my phone. I kid myself it keeps my mind sharp and hopefully stops me falling into old age with dementia. I am also rather fond of cryptic crosswords for the same reason. If I can I usually do Wordle while having breakfast, but if busy, I sometimes do it later in the day. On difficult words, it has sometimes stretched me to six attempts and on a rare occasion I have failed altogether, but my average is about three or four attempts. </p><p>Today I did it first time! Look away, if you don't want to know the answer below.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisWY3I0PUBdC8pf2BbrJDAHAo2sBp9ygjB9J5ejxngELKG_mE3F8aOpJ0uVb5u1R9nxEwpRwByAdn1Ladzv1ZATVl9JWtRx6zmv5hLcYacT_8bawia2OYzeJDd_dgZtPyCTSKBp2x7P2v-Lq6LtHGUExmQphSVPTWoLxA1BHNLOmggVsvHGTQoRAOgekA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="945" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisWY3I0PUBdC8pf2BbrJDAHAo2sBp9ygjB9J5ejxngELKG_mE3F8aOpJ0uVb5u1R9nxEwpRwByAdn1Ladzv1ZATVl9JWtRx6zmv5hLcYacT_8bawia2OYzeJDd_dgZtPyCTSKBp2x7P2v-Lq6LtHGUExmQphSVPTWoLxA1BHNLOmggVsvHGTQoRAOgekA" width="111" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-40387275476889252682016-04-25T10:00:00.003+01:002023-07-18T12:07:50.844+01:00I'm back and Geoffrey is no more!<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>You probably haven't even noticed, as I am not a regular blogger, that I have not blogged for a while now or commented on yours. It's because I have been in hospital for the last two weeks and am not blessed with a smart phone to access the internet, so was out of the loop.</b></span><br />
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>If you had to be in hospital and feeling poorly, this was surely the best bedside view to have. </b></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGDqSpLnvDIci90st3-I6_Ls1rO6a4akC66eqz8lN0UNSUaC7e1znV9L8hnkgYCd2jQ45fPcFRjjlwzvVbN5nS98EsLZL3htexJnn6-5LmEiaQkopMeFzSSRheLU-3naJQ45zuQ31GoU/s1600/view+from+page+ward+%25283%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGDqSpLnvDIci90st3-I6_Ls1rO6a4akC66eqz8lN0UNSUaC7e1znV9L8hnkgYCd2jQ45fPcFRjjlwzvVbN5nS98EsLZL3htexJnn6-5LmEiaQkopMeFzSSRheLU-3naJQ45zuQ31GoU/s400/view+from+page+ward+%25283%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">view from my bedside</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>My
bed was literally two feet from the window and my chair even closer,
tucked against the windowsill. I took two magazines and a chunky novel
with me and touched none of them during my 11-day stay. Aside from my<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"> </span>concentration <span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">being</span> all over the place<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">,</span> the view was far too compelling. I watched lone joggers as early as 6am ploughing along Westminster Bridge, followed much later by droves of commuters on their way to Westminster, followed even later still by hordes of tourists taking photos of every angle of London. River traffic was busy - there were huge crammed tourist boats turning on a penny to moor at Westminster Pier to pick up even more people; there were cargo boats pulling their heavy <span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">load</span> of small containers. I even saw the royal barge Gloriana pass by </b></span></b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOjhbyF7g7ETy1XhsMaMmsOT1fLW5RDYgTxMQWBPEbwxgZqLOTZsh8etE_5CbqCTCP7IqaKdNMmU6X2FkxXD45i45Md3fcSUWENVT-7sM-BUCXFfySfIVX083w5dGZRl1bxjh5KfIyDP3LkFvz2E0Qu7qYJaYNUhmGUUWnqc-ro4jqGiLxqrCE8Bt8HnU" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="955" data-original-width="1900" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOjhbyF7g7ETy1XhsMaMmsOT1fLW5RDYgTxMQWBPEbwxgZqLOTZsh8etE_5CbqCTCP7IqaKdNMmU6X2FkxXD45i45Md3fcSUWENVT-7sM-BUCXFfySfIVX083w5dGZRl1bxjh5KfIyDP3LkFvz2E0Qu7qYJaYNUhmGUUWnqc-ro4jqGiLxqrCE8Bt8HnU" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gloriana <br />courtesy of glorianaqrb.org.uk</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><b style="text-align: left;"><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b style="text-align: left;">on a Sunday afternoon with golden oars working fit to bust. The London Eye turned and turned from early morning to very late at night. I wondered how many people in their little pods could see me at my window. Why on earth would I want to ignore this flurry of activity against an iconic backdrop <span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">only to</span> read a stupid magazine instead? Of course there were disadvantages to being right by the window. The curtain designed to go round my bed for privacy stopped before it even reached the window. The window side was not covered at all, so when I needed a commode or had to have a bedside wash-down, I bared all (literally from head to foot) to the passers by on foot, bus, boat or at the Marriott Hotel opposite. I reasoned I would probably never see them again, but if you were one of those passers by and saw my butt, please keep schtumm. I'd hate to see my personal bits all over youtube.</b></div></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>Views from the day room were <span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">good too </span></b></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPOoicV-Q-39wRu0pJleaTaX6bwBZa3hce42nc8_l6WsGX7SAj6MRe6ZbXafyJwnMbvJzaCkHG9ig2BtDoP81KqxJYrvUp9aHXZhdULdWfYScYge5NR0vonYvpqYMr-5oEnX6z4GN-RSM/s1600/view+from+day+room+%25284%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPOoicV-Q-39wRu0pJleaTaX6bwBZa3hce42nc8_l6WsGX7SAj6MRe6ZbXafyJwnMbvJzaCkHG9ig2BtDoP81KqxJYrvUp9aHXZhdULdWfYScYge5NR0vonYvpqYMr-5oEnX6z4GN-RSM/s400/view+from+day+room+%25284%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the Day Room</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"></span></b></span></div>
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b> </b></span><br />
<br />
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>and at night I would go to sleep gazing at this....</b></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7akftQ_VBTZ8-Uth-RAmz8ahd7D2Z912O34cNo_njxvYHAZ8r_KNFzlkPOkUrhm4quLOd503ry_IirJSnjyk03gI6Ebzfaj4dbcsSUKVDPreNpPVrqNkqoX6U2vLufZ4Mvzho9CN6R1I/s1600/view+from+page+ward+%25287%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7akftQ_VBTZ8-Uth-RAmz8ahd7D2Z912O34cNo_njxvYHAZ8r_KNFzlkPOkUrhm4quLOd503ry_IirJSnjyk03gI6Ebzfaj4dbcsSUKVDPreNpPVrqNkqoX6U2vLufZ4Mvzho9CN6R1I/s400/view+from+page+ward+%25287%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from my bed at night</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>The operation nearly didn't go ahead. I developed a tickly cough a few days before admission date and dutifully informed the <span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">hospital,<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"> </span></span>as they had requested, half-hoping for another few weeks' leeway. But they decided to go ahead anyway. The <a href="https://www.macmillan.org.uk/cancer-information-and-support/soft-tissue-sarcoma/gastrointestinal-stromal-tumour" target="_blank">GIST tumour</a> growing on the wall of my stomach was very close to the oesophagus and removing it was going to be tricky. The very gentle female consultant came to see me the night before and half-terrified me. They have to tell you the worst case scenario, just in case you wake up with something they had not warned you about, but she said she might have to remove a small piece of my upper bowel to reconstruct the oesophagus if they damaged it. Kay and I (in an attempt to lighten the situation) decided to name the GIST Geoffrey, as in the past I had called a fibroid Phyllis and we still refer to her now, fifteen years on.<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"> That night, </span> Geoffrey the GIST slept peacefully for the last time. I can honestly say I hardly slept a<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"> wink</span>.</b></span><br />
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b><br /></b></span>
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>The next morning,I was surprised how calm and cheery I was, as they wheeled me off to theatre. To blot out reality, I found myself interviewing everyone from porter to nurse to theatre sister about all manner of things including where they trained, where they lived, what they did. I was <span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">gibbering </span>non-stop - I half suspect they gave me the anaesthetic to shut me up! I was first given an epidural as pain-relief for when I eventually woke up again, then given the general anaesthetic. I remember looking at the clock at that point - it was 11am. The next thing I knew, it was 3.30pm and I was coming round in recovery, The operation had lasted three and a half hours. Geoffrey had been safely removed and sent off to the big laboratory in the sky, my oesophagus was intact and there had been no need to dissect any bowel to reconstruct it (phew!) Again, even in my semi-drowsy state, my loquaciousness bubbled to the surface and I recall having a very intense discussion with the recovery sister about all kinds of things. I recall no pain at all, <span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">because </span>the epidural was already doing its stuff.</b></span><br />
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b><br /></b></span>
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>The next day, I was more compus mentis and able to take in the facts. They had only removed a small part of my stomach and stapled the hole with titanium staples which are there for life (God help me if I go through an airport scanner). They had tried to do the operation first with two laparoscopes, but had not managed to continue in that way and had had to open me up after all. On looking at my abdomen, I have a sort of smiley face - two round hole eyes where the lapar<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">osc</span>opes had gone in and a <span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">six-inch verti<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">cal </span>scar</span> for the nose. The crease of my tummy is the mouth.</b></span><br />
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b><br /></b></span>
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>It took a further nine days to get to a point where they could discharge me. I was on epidural pain-relief for 6 days, but when they took that out of my back, boy, did I notice the difference. I was downgraded to morphine which disagreed with me and in the end I am pleased to say I coped OK with just paracetamol. I was on a three-day water-only diet to start with. Then, after a barium swallow x ray revealed the stomach was watertight and the staples were holding they introduced me to soup and porridge, but by then my stomach had shrunk and my appetite was poor. The <span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">doctors</span> urged me to try to cram some calories in as I was getting weaker and weaker, so even prescribed a bar of Green and Black's chocolate. I was to suck on a cube to give me some energy and perhaps encourage me to eat something else. I must have been poorly<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">, because f</span>or a few days even my chocoholic side would not kick in and it must have been about six days in total when absolutely nothing passed my lips. Gradually, I started to eat morsels and to date I am able to eat light sloppy meals like soup, custard<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"> and</span> ice cream. Eventually I am supposed to build up and add mushy solids and then real solids. I crept around the corridors like a hundred-year-old trying to make it to the toilet or the show<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">er</span>. </b></span><br />
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b><br /></b></span>
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>Kay had started a new rotation recently and is working <span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">till late evening</span>, but did manage to visit me </b></span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>at the weekend</b></span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b> in the mid<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">dle</span> of my s<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">tay</span>. She was not able to get time off at short notice on the day I was discharged so I came home by hospital transport to an empty house. I was a little tearful, as it made it all the more poignant that Greg is no longer here to help me in adverse times (or any times for that matter). I was able to manage all the stairs I have (<a href="http://alcoholicdaze.blogspot.co.uk/2010/05/try-agaian.html" target="_blank">see here</a>) and cooked a poached egg for my supper before collapsing into bed. It's onwards and upwards from now on, though I am told full recovery will take 4-6 weeks. </b></span><br />
<br />
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><b>The absolute good news is that I have lost over half a stone in weight and Geoffrey is thankfully no more.</b></span>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-59740510165494297452023-07-18T10:32:00.006+01:002023-07-18T12:01:33.462+01:00This and that<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>The days seem to fly by these days and suddenly I see it is 15 days since I last posted. I have been busy since my return from Salisbury, partly in my own house and partly in Kay's, partly at the charity shop and partly at choirs, but also with hospital appointments.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>To get to the bottom of why my acid reflux is so bad, I have had various hospital tests lined up. First a CT scan which thankfully revealed no major problems and certainly no regrowth of the tumour <a href="https://alcoholicdaze.blogspot.com/2016/04/">they removed in 2016</a>. Then an endoscopy ten days ago, which revealed a hiatus hernia (a by-product of the operation which has made my stomach a crescent shape which now pokes through my diaphragm). I also have polyps caused by over-use of omeprazole (I have been on that for 7 years continuously since the operation) and the pyloric sphincter, which allows food to pass from the stomach into the intestines, is very narrow. Despite fasting for 7 hours before the procedure, I still had food in my stomach, so the consultant concluded that my stomach was not evacuating food fast enough. (It would therefore explain why, even when I eat as late as 7 pm, I may still have food in my stomach at 2am, which, when I am horizontal in bed, is when I wake up choking with acid in my throat.) The plan is to do a second endoscopy in a few weeks' time and stretch the pyloric sphincter to allow food to evacuate faster. I also have an ultrasound planned to rule out gall stones. So it's all happening.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Meanwhile the weeds in Kay's garden have been a challenge. I removed them about 6 weeks ago and already they are the height of triffids. Kay had some friends coming to stay last weekend, see the house for the first time and celebrate her 32nd birthday, so I went over to de-weed yet again. Bindweed had also taken up residence and was wrapping itself around every bush and plant, growing in some cases up to about 4 feet. Trying to disentangle that lot was like doing brain surgery, trying to remove the problem but keeping the plant intact. While I was working in her garden close to the enormous pond there, I was aware of eyes watching me and saw two little frogs with their heads above water watching my every move intensely. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>I have become obsessed with helping out at the foodbank charity shop and think I have missed my vocation as a shop girl! I have enjoyed sorting clothes, pricing them and hanging them up in colour and then size order, as the manager likes, and pottering around to ensure they stay like that, when customers have mixed them all up!</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>I've got a quieter week this week, so time to devote to other things and my own garden. And blogs. </b></span></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-69366990211613308902023-07-03T18:20:00.005+01:002023-07-04T08:57:43.666+01:00Away days<p>Last week I had a much-awaited break away from London. I rarely get the chance to go on holiday these days as I don't have anyone to go with. Kay understandably wants to spend holidays with her fiance and most of my friends go away with their husbands or are too poorly to travel, so I decided, if I wanted a holiday at all, I would need to try to travel alone. If I could manage that, then I might venture further afield, I thought to myself. </p><p>The first attempt about 7 weeks ago was aborted, because the hotel I was booked into had a massive power cut which rendered them closed for business for a whole week, starting with the date of my departure. I was thwarted with an attempt to book alternative accommodation and had to abandon the idea. Then I got sick with a flare-up of my old acid reflux trouble and was only able to resume the Salisbury trip last week, but this time I chose a different hotel. </p><p>Why Salisbury? Because V, an old schoolfriend of mine, lives on the outskirts there and as I haven't seen her in over 40+ years, I decided it was high time to correct that. We kept threatening in Christmas cards to visit one another, but life just got in the way and then in 2020 Covid did, putting paid to any visits anywhere because of lockdowns. Finally this year, I decided it was now or never.</p><p>G, the husband of another schoolfriend, who sadly passed away 6 years ago, has also kept in touch and agreed to meet up too, so it was lovely to see them both. The day flew by as we caught up on those missing 40+ years. There were no awkward silences and it was as if we had met regularly. </p><p>While in Salisbury I covered a lot of ground sightseeing. I stayed in a lovely 800-year-old hotel (although it was fortunate enough to have running water, WiFi and TV facilities!) I was also lucky to be the only person on a walking tour of the town so had my own one-to-one guide. A tour of the Cathedral was also a must and the three days just zoomed past. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjimQG8FOTlhuRTKnQvwo02nqy2ePwi15jWTZhEsJ6vV_aML5bGgZtUgidaTY7OxhQLDMZRptSpy9Xfal1urYQKnmrcHmSQy8mYXF2hwm881iEXiAhKCjfvn5wnugRF2xuhZ5Go11YmKKF2i6zU7m5E9Jupzs8DzPNzfrDtJq1-EoT-MgfEBjKXnxJXIq8/s1728/cath%20ext%205.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjimQG8FOTlhuRTKnQvwo02nqy2ePwi15jWTZhEsJ6vV_aML5bGgZtUgidaTY7OxhQLDMZRptSpy9Xfal1urYQKnmrcHmSQy8mYXF2hwm881iEXiAhKCjfvn5wnugRF2xuhZ5Go11YmKKF2i6zU7m5E9Jupzs8DzPNzfrDtJq1-EoT-MgfEBjKXnxJXIq8/s320/cath%20ext%205.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beautiful cathedral built 1220-1258</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizth0ZLiChSniWsIVTC4XUEf6vZow-oRCB3JEaXTLd9h7m8i8po_sBzzBd-yLvW0nCkKyJTNC3mAjXG1q_faAQH2VU1pn5am36GRFp6rkWOkzk8b-CXpVzl_lO8ejKUubfptKzI2PfWYa5MiMIT_qqCtuagiDsIN3PUyf3M6PKjT9VV0oScvPdu_JrT7o/s1728/cath%20ext%204.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizth0ZLiChSniWsIVTC4XUEf6vZow-oRCB3JEaXTLd9h7m8i8po_sBzzBd-yLvW0nCkKyJTNC3mAjXG1q_faAQH2VU1pn5am36GRFp6rkWOkzk8b-CXpVzl_lO8ejKUubfptKzI2PfWYa5MiMIT_qqCtuagiDsIN3PUyf3M6PKjT9VV0oScvPdu_JrT7o/s320/cath%20ext%204.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cathedral cloisters</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXfn-rBD1cmXNNVoCKjJDTZPSIfJOgAVfuvz4-sJ3QlX3rT13fkc2R02V5hyI7xE3pmPMK2Y9ywB9RiWcghAwVFFYuWWP4qsdSAxGc-D0CZv6WHqI_1DXDuFQGUiijICFxDy1WT5Zazr-MWlw2aXjiXMvy-9tIaIMcuq6M7Arje5S4MFYxFtJo3EbHQ5o/s1400/town%204.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSbFgQMtFt2dR_If7jcgbmZ6hZvXRxYAGYbTjQzK-GkOn-Z8o0bA58SIXxaK1Oc4pTqhLN5ro48nBPVKLgDkpMceg7pg3xuH3X8IzpEnOWlNdd1JYceOWhQcAZeLQFhv7MRk-FOACFXP4V46tLn4F0FHvw0J3_Uo9cB0aD3M72pMVspjz-veieUi2oY0/s1728/Ted%20Heath%201.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSbFgQMtFt2dR_If7jcgbmZ6hZvXRxYAGYbTjQzK-GkOn-Z8o0bA58SIXxaK1Oc4pTqhLN5ro48nBPVKLgDkpMceg7pg3xuH3X8IzpEnOWlNdd1JYceOWhQcAZeLQFhv7MRk-FOACFXP4V46tLn4F0FHvw0J3_Uo9cB0aD3M72pMVspjz-veieUi2oY0/s320/Ted%20Heath%201.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomb of Edward Heath in the Cathedral</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1400" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXfn-rBD1cmXNNVoCKjJDTZPSIfJOgAVfuvz4-sJ3QlX3rT13fkc2R02V5hyI7xE3pmPMK2Y9ywB9RiWcghAwVFFYuWWP4qsdSAxGc-D0CZv6WHqI_1DXDuFQGUiijICFxDy1WT5Zazr-MWlw2aXjiXMvy-9tIaIMcuq6M7Arje5S4MFYxFtJo3EbHQ5o/s320/town%204.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An amazing specimen of wattle and daub inside a Cotwolds camping shop</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEg0T7G2pveLcuGFA2j6naT11-o5ict3-0iuWgRTDbZJknfSZ-v7pdyDfAm9uY0LyFKgrjpQzr8mJwCF3oW561On6k24migpCtqU06jLqHICc512TnPgS9cwMdOnKrMiQPLLgOOjxg-fgID2YkUZwoQfJrLRe1llRFdYDJ0o9r65UQZckFzh5BhAtAWFo/s1728/hotel%201.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEg0T7G2pveLcuGFA2j6naT11-o5ict3-0iuWgRTDbZJknfSZ-v7pdyDfAm9uY0LyFKgrjpQzr8mJwCF3oW561On6k24migpCtqU06jLqHICc512TnPgS9cwMdOnKrMiQPLLgOOjxg-fgID2YkUZwoQfJrLRe1llRFdYDJ0o9r65UQZckFzh5BhAtAWFo/s320/hotel%201.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 800-year-old hotel</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM4HmJrrOWoORbAiuGTz8TJXx55BO-WAQWvDN2LHhUxupoIOLIAtQ3r1BonHPEml37eInJ39WUEoyFQL4_epFa8FI8697DoRQo5J2HrhVPYLM6FROittxU-SciYuPZyg78MSHREeshh1_fNL65R6VDMeLfBUy1l6Q_UIHRirGgGQ0Jyz9AJ1yY3V6tZ_A/s1728/hotel%203.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM4HmJrrOWoORbAiuGTz8TJXx55BO-WAQWvDN2LHhUxupoIOLIAtQ3r1BonHPEml37eInJ39WUEoyFQL4_epFa8FI8697DoRQo5J2HrhVPYLM6FROittxU-SciYuPZyg78MSHREeshh1_fNL65R6VDMeLfBUy1l6Q_UIHRirGgGQ0Jyz9AJ1yY3V6tZ_A/s320/hotel%203.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The contraption in the hotel reception used for steaming the ruffs used by choristers</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-13301168040452830272023-06-19T11:30:00.003+01:002023-06-19T11:30:53.501+01:00Food for thought<p>I regularly volunteer at our local foodbank and have been doing so since 2018. Our local foodbank hands out food on a Tuesday, Friday and Saturday as well as providing a sit-down cooked meal to over a hundred people on Fridays. It also offers a cafe, sewing repairs, advice on benefits and help with reading and writing. The numbers of users have swelled over the years but more so in the last year - probably a lot to do with Ukrainian immigrants and the cost of living crisis. My role has been mainly to bag up a selection of food and hand it out but have also sat many times at the sewing machine and done all sorts of repairs to unravelling seams, torn material, missing buttons and changing the size to fit better where people have lost weight.</p><p>The church that runs it has acquired two huge shipping containers in its grounds to fill with donated tins and packets. We regularly collect from the supermarkets that donate food close to use-by dates and of course passers-by drop off bags of food. We also get a lot donated by schools at harvest festival time. However, with more users and less donors because of the cost of living crisis (and the fact that our foodbank has become well-known for being generous), the stocks have dwindled and the church has had to dig deep into its pockets to buy food to supplement the supply.</p><p>As a result, it was decided to open a local charity shop to augment the foodbank purse. We secured a shop in one of the neighbouring High Streets and have been kitting it out for the last two weeks - the usual charity shop type of thing selling clothes, shoes, toys, ornaments, books, CDs and DVDs. I have dipped in on several occasions to sort clothes, make sure they were suitable for sale, and sort them into colour and size order in the shop. On Friday, I was busy pricing a lot of items up with tags. The shop was officially opened on Saturday by the local MP, who has always taken an interest in the foodbank. I shall help out in the future on an ad hoc basis to work in the shop and that will give me something else to do that is worthwhile, whilst still helping at the foodbank itself. On the opening day last Saturday, we took over £1600, so that will help the foodbank, although with over 250 users that will provide no more than £6 per person and of course, rent and services have to be paid on the shop. </p><p>Hopefully the initial euphoria of a new shop on the High Street will not wane and we will keep up this kind of sale on a regular basis. If not, the service we hope to provide to our users will fall into question of its future.</p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg65YBNJWKS9vEgVDn429D969Q6ozJAnzVdXq4VGVQ4fQSlylORyENFTFBv7nV40LgWCFzPA-obhiWzAYXm2GfIZ27ahVJ3hlMeMZoStfrfghQggBxGccEAyoqpdMBeQNsicmUXRDk2TnY7KO4CzxNjPoHoa3ODyu1un3SLXgHtW37OASxBg6dLBypxrUo" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg65YBNJWKS9vEgVDn429D969Q6ozJAnzVdXq4VGVQ4fQSlylORyENFTFBv7nV40LgWCFzPA-obhiWzAYXm2GfIZ27ahVJ3hlMeMZoStfrfghQggBxGccEAyoqpdMBeQNsicmUXRDk2TnY7KO4CzxNjPoHoa3ODyu1un3SLXgHtW37OASxBg6dLBypxrUo=w237-h316" width="237" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Opening day of the new shop</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-79700122502436489282023-06-12T11:57:00.000+01:002023-06-12T11:57:48.903+01:00I can't stomach this<p>Well the run of bad luck continues.</p><p>Following an operation in 2016 to remove a stomach tumour, I am prone to episodes of acid reflux. This is where acid comes up from the stomach into the throat and, I can tell you, it burns! It is most distressing as it usually happens at night when I am in a deep sleep and I rear up choking. I can best describe it as vomiting in my sleep. I always try to grab a glass of water to neutralise the acid and usually any damage soon passes within a few days.</p><p>However, this time, I have been suffering for about 5 weeks. My throat and oesophagus are very sore and ulcerated, which makes talking and swallowing difficult. My stomach behind my breast bone feels as if it has been punched and aches. I generally feel one degree under and listless. No amount of my usual medication or bland diet has soothed it. The good news is I have lost 6 pounds in the last few weeks, but I don't want to lose much more. </p><p>I finally managed to get a telephone consultation with my GP about 2 weeks ago and he fast-tracked me to my old consultant (from 2016) at St Thomas' Hospital whom I saw last week. She is organising an endoscopy (not looking forward to that), a CT scan and an ultrasound scan in the next few weeks to see what is going on. </p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-58181928127750713402023-05-20T12:08:00.006+01:002023-05-20T12:13:49.265+01:00Bad luck<p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">My run of bad luck (sprained ankle in November, Covid in December, washing machine flood in January, ongoing continuing saga of bed delivery) has now been increased by another incident. This week I was due to go on holiday for a few days, but the trip was unexpectedly cancelled at the very last minute.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">As I am a widow, an only child with no cousins or wider family and, as my two best friends live at least 60 miles away from me with busy lives of their own, I have nobody really to go away on holiday with. (Sound of violins in the distance.) Before the pandemic I had therefore decided the only way to get a holiday was to go away on my own, but the pandemic soon put a stop to any thoughts on that. </span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Over the past few months however, I had decided to resume my courage to go away solo and had decided to start with Salisbury. Not only was that a reasonable train distance from London, but I have an old schoolfriend, with whom I still keep in touch, who lives in an outlying village to Salisbury. We still write to one another at Christmas and usually threaten to visit one another, but life and the years have passed so quickly and suddenly forty-seven years on, we have not seen one another since 1976. We agreed to meet for lunch last Wednesday. I meanwhile had booked into a Wetherspoons hotel for two nights in Salisbury - I thought it fitted the bill as it was closest to the station and the town centre -so that I could travel down by train and sightsee on the Tuesday and Thursday either side of seeing my friend on Wednesday.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">On Tuesday morning, I was all packed and had just finished my breakfast. My first train connection within London was due to leave within the hour. I was just thinking of checking all the things you check before you leave home, when an email pinged in on my phone. "Reservation Cancellation". In horror I read that my reservation at the hotel had been cancelled. The email was not even from the hotel I had booked but from one in Henley. At first I thought it was a joke but when I tried to ring the hotel, I was getting unobtainable and the Henley hotel was not answering either. In frantic desperation with only half an hour to go before my train, I tried online to find an alternative hotel in Salisbury, but none had availability at such short notice. I had no choice but to abandon the trip altogether. I was so disappointed. To add insult to injury, when I went down to the station to get a refund on my train ticket (which I had bought weeks ago) I was told it was non-refundable.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have been trying all week to get in touch with the hotel for an explanation but still get the unobtainable tone. Then I found <a href="https://www.salisburyjournal.co.uk/business/business/23529018.wetherspoons-kings-head-inn-closed-business/">this online.</a> It helps to explain why, but still hasn't sadly pacified my disappointment. What were the chances of that happening on the day I was due to get there?</span></b></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3978906014166411621.post-32272570320955620662023-05-11T13:24:00.005+01:002023-05-13T16:07:45.721+01:00Goodnight, sleep tight<p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">You would think buying a bed would be simple. You go into a shop, try out a few, find the one you want, pay for it, have it delivered and "goodnight, sleep tight". That's the theory. In practice I have had the most awful experience.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Back in November, when Kay and her fiance bought a house, I decided to give them my bed to put in their guest bedroom. My bed was nudging 30 years old and I decided maybe it was time for a new one. They say that you should change your bed every 8-10 years. I don't know whether that is just the bed manufacturers' way of getting you to buy new, otherwise they would never make a sale once everybody had one, or whether there is some science in the need to change it that often, but I had deliberately ignored it until now. I had donated my bed on the spur of the moment while Kay had the removal van handy and intended to go looking for a replacement the very next day, except I sprained my ankle (<a href="https://alcoholicdaze.blogspot.com/2022/11/jinxed.html">see here</a>) and was virtually housebound for three months, so couldn't go looking until late January. </span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Come January, I decided to go to a small shop not far away that I had used in the past for Kay's bed and wanted to give the small shopkeeper some business. These days, there are so many options - single, queen, double, king and super king, not to mention natural fibres, memory foam, latex foam, gel-top, as well as firm/medium/soft tensions. After careful deliberation, I chose a lovely oak frame bed with headboard and footboard and bounced up and down on a few beds until I found the mattress I liked. Easy peasy. Or so I thought. </span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">I had to wait 4 weeks for the mattress to come over from Ireland (apparently) before the bed and frame were delivered, so by the end of February, having slept on a camping bed since November, I was getting very excited. The day of the bed delivery arrived, two men carried the mattress up to the bedroom and it was then that I noticed...... a dent in the headboard and fingerprint-like stains on the mattress. I rang the shop and took photos and they agreed without any fuss on receipt of photos that they would replace everything. </span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpSScgC0B78Tlq9ZriAKhsMUd4Snm2NYVrqrFH9ktUMEj60a4cArhNzr4IyUOK4LJlMlrdTTEEQHzYtd2T-cOVvGXrvGW6J2-DIXHqNr0FpuXVWiI00ppJrjA6mmbkLxq9db50t2nUAwTmjkvLSiZDQGSyqzg1xPh4yARZ1JPS3EgCDmMOfaS6w_eL" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1296" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpSScgC0B78Tlq9ZriAKhsMUd4Snm2NYVrqrFH9ktUMEj60a4cArhNzr4IyUOK4LJlMlrdTTEEQHzYtd2T-cOVvGXrvGW6J2-DIXHqNr0FpuXVWiI00ppJrjA6mmbkLxq9db50t2nUAwTmjkvLSiZDQGSyqzg1xPh4yARZ1JPS3EgCDmMOfaS6w_eL" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">some of the stains on the mattress</td></tr></tbody></table><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">In the meantime, I had noticed that the mattress I had chosen had no handles (I had mistakenly thought they all did) and, given that I live on my own, turning it periodically (as is advised) would not have been easy, so I took the opportunity to change my order for a more expensive mattress (double the price) with handles. </span></b><p></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">I waited another 4 weeks for the replacements to arrive, but finally in early April mattress number 2 and headboard number 2 arrived. That bedhead was also damaged and I was promised yet another replacement in due course. After several nights it became clear to me that the mattress was far too soft and causing lower backache. It's one thing to try it out in the shop for 30 seconds and quite another to spend a whole night on it. I asked if they could swap it back for the original model but obviously one without stains! I would just have to cope without mattress handles. I also asked if they could get their warehouse to check the wooden headboard for damages before putting it on the delivery van to save a wasted visit. This was promised. </span></b><b style="font-family: verdana;">The shop had gone to great pains to tell me that they can return a damaged mattress to the manufacturer, but as mattress number 2 was not damaged and merely uncomfortable, they would charge me £290 extra as "scrappage" in other words the only way they could make some money out of my return as they do not have a licence to sell second-hand beds and they would literally have to destroy it.</b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Another long wait began until the mattress number 3 could be delivered from the manufacturer, but finally this week I was promised it would be delivered. The headboards had however all been checked in the warehouse and none were damage-free, so they were going to speak to the manufacturer with whom they were having some problems anyway. The wait for that would continue. </span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Mattress number 3 arrived yesterday. As the delivery men unwrapped it from its packaging and laid it on the bed I noticed the same familiar fingerprint stains on it and pointed them out to the men. They had delivered the very mattress (number 1) that I had returned in February. I rang the shop, but had to leave a detailed message as there is only ever one salesperson in the shop and they cannot answer the phone if dealing with a customer. </b></span><b style="font-family: verdana;">Shortly thereafter, I got a phone call from the shop's customer service manager located in deepest Surrey somewhere. He was overflowing with apologies, saying there had been a monumental mix-up. First of all mattress number 1 with stains should never have gone back to be stored in the warehouse as it would cause "contamination" with the rest of their new stock, but somehow or other it had been returned to the warehouse as "stock". Secondly, the message that I wanted the original choice of model back had somehow been relayed that I wanted the original complete with stains (as if) and that is why it had been delivered yesterday. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I rarely lose my rag with people, but I let fly and said this was disgraceful service. Not only that but I had paid the £290 scrappage fee because I was told they would never resell a used mattress and yet, here I was getting a used mattress (I know, as I had used it previously!) The customer service man assured me this was a very unusual mix-up and should not have happened and there was going to be an Inquiry. He could not have grovelled more if he had tried. Meanwhile he told me I have another 4-week wait to get mattress number 4.</b></p><p><b style="font-family: verdana;">So here I sit 4 months on still waiting for the perfect mattress and bedhead to materialise. The customer service man said I was a one-in-a-million for this to happen to. Just my luck!</b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></p>ADDYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01018958238940897902noreply@blogger.com1