23September1995

London: 23rd September 1995
My dear folks,

I rose at six this morning with the firm intention of writing to you in that quiet hour when one’s muse is active & the city is still. But I got diverted on to the Internet where I spent a fascinating hour roaming through pages on RSA. There were recommended places to visit in Johannesburg (Try the War Museum) & a list of SA schools contactable by email (including Louwveld High School in Witbank & CBC in Cape Town). It was a nostalgic trip, full of names & places I once knew well. Then I scanned USA TODAY and the Voice of America for their perspective on the latest world news. I felt fairly pleased with myself.

However, my pleasure vanished entirely when I tried to use another programme to catch up with the latest news at the BBC Networking Club. A notice informed me that the programme had expired. I had previously downloaded a later version which refused to work at the time, showering me with rude messages instead. So, with little hope of success, I downloaded it again - in fact I downloaded two later versions. As expected, they both took an instant dislike to my computer & threw up their arms when I tried to run them. Very frustrating!

So, here I am writing to you as I meant to do all the while. Some times I wonder whether I would write to you even if you were not there. Would I have to invent you? Or would I have to reflect to what extent my musings secretly serve a diary function? I don’t know & happily the dilemma does not arise. Today is my third consecutive day off - so nice! Yesterday flew - as did the day before it. There was the usual correspondence to complete - Quinta guests, banks, London flats - not to speak of two hours on the phone to travel agents! This was mainly on behalf of Chris Jones - working on contract in Guyana - who had left it dangerously late to try to get a flight home for Christmas! There must be at least twenty flights a day between Europe and SA from mid-Dec to mid Jan. But Business Class is virtually all that’s available on any of them - even via European capitals. Believe me! I tried!

However, I also made a booking on my own behalf - to get down to Johannesburg to see Mum for a brief ten days in mid-November. I’d have liked to spend longer down there. But there was a rare cheap ticket available for a niche that fits neatly into my working pattern & I am duly grateful. What’s more, the December rota threw up three off-days over Christmas that will allow Barbara & me to join Cathy & family in Neustadt for a celebration at which Brendan, Conal & Micaela will also be present. What a change after a string of working Christmases. To cap it, I managed to get cheap tickets to Frankfurt.

Another of my tasks has been to chase the metal worker who put in the iron door on the storeroom below the stairs where I keep my bicycle. Two weeks ago, the door refused to lock. A piece of metal inside the lock had come adrift and was blocking the key. The only blessing was the timing. It happened after I’d opened the door and removed my bike. So at least there is access to the lock which has been welded on and has to be ground off again. But as always, the man has been paid for his work and it’s proving difficult to get him around - at least at a time when someone’s in and can hook him up a supply of electricity.

I took a break after lunch for a brisk walk through the elegant streets of St John’s Wood & on to Regents Park. St John’s Wood is such a contrast with the rude street life of Harrow Road. The two are within ten minutes walk but separated by a gulf of wealth & style. Chic women were looking for places to park their Porches & BMWs in the High Street where the mild afternoon was conducive to conversation at one of the smart pavement cafes. Designer outfits, slim legs & coiffured dogs were on display. I don’t know how they can take it seriously but they do.

As one enters Regents Park, the stink & din of the approach roads recedes like an easing headache. Stern crows stalk stiff-legged across the grass, brazen squirrels look you up & down and the relentlessly increasing squads of Canada geese patrol the fringes of the lake where they hold up passers by carrying likely bags of bread. Skateboarders are also much in evidence. A woman walking a dozen little dogs was yelling at one of them who had a mind of his own. He was clearly called Oscar but didn’t respond to her bellowing, something that amused me but not her. She complained loudly to other dog walkers that “some woman” had three bitches on heat in the park! Phrases like “so inconsiderate” and “she really should keep them on a leash” filled the air. I was feeling very hungry for some reason & made my way to the cafe where I read the paper & consumed four icecreams - Magnums, my favourites - rather to the surprise of the ice-cream seller. Then I walked home again.

A number of dusky gentlemen were gathered outside the Regents Park mosque after Friday prayers, discussing the sort of things folk talk about after church. This however is an aside, for the religious news of the day concerns the Hindu faith. There was great excitement in India yesterday as news spread that certain statues in Hindu temples across the country were consuming offerings of milk. The elephant-headed god, Ganesh, was said to be slurping it up, with support from images of Shiva & Nandi. The news reached Britain where the Hindu community rushed in their thousands to their temples to see if their statues were equally thirsty. According to many reports, they were, accepting libations offered to them in spoons.

This was serious enough to make headline news on British radio & television and even to drive the usual mind-boggling cleavage off the front page of this morning’s Sun - quite extraordinary. Cries of “miracle” filled the land, although some explained that you needed the eyes of faith to appreciate it and others were dubious. There’s a nasty suspicion in some quarters that Hindu nationalists with political motives started the ball rolling. There’s a general election pending in India. Whatever the explanation, there was a huge hullabaloo.

Today has dawned clear and blue, with just the twittering of the birds audible through the study window. That’s how I like it. It won’t last - but still. I’ve arranged to cycle over to Richard and Penny late this afternoon for an early supper and a conversation on a choice of laptop computers for Penny. I can see that I am in danger of ending my letter as I began it. It is probably the last such communication before I get back from five days in Portugal early in October. I’ve a line of days at work before that and after it so excuse a prolonged silence. Or perhaps be grateful!