Saturday 31 October 2009

Spudless

We're out of potatoes. Disaster! The Fox's instant reaction is that we must go hot-pace down to the shops to get some more.

Personally I hate tackling food shops at the weekend - too many people. Curiously this isn't quite so bad in France or Italy. In those countries the wheelchair lane is prioritised for disabled people. Although others can use that till, if a disabled person arrives they have to let the disabled person through, clearing the conveyor belt especially. I wish it happened in this country.

However, that gripe aside, we're leaving it until next week. I assure the Fox we'll manage until then. We've got rice & pasta in so what's the problem. We've even got some tinned new potatoes & frozen chips in. Time we used some of these things up.

He's still not sure. I come up with some suggested meals. They may not be the meals planned, but they should be tasty & would even use up some of the foods that are just hanging around. Necessity is the mother invention & all that. We can get the potatoes next time we're at the shops.

So it is today we're going to use up some asparagus we've got left over from a risotto we had earlier this week. (It was one of those offers - buy two bundles for the price of one.) I'm thinking of a stir fry with some ham & other veg. In the freezer we've got a half tin of hoisin & plum sauce, so we can add that for a bit of extra flavour. A few egg noddles & all should be good.

Tomorrow I've suggested the Fox can make one of his fabulous spicy spag bols. Or we could have a chili con carne if he prefers. Monday will be a cheese pasta medley. By Tuesday I suspect we'll be needing some milk & so will be going to the shops anyhow. Then we can buy some spuds & get back to the planned meals.

Simple. Problem solved.

Thursday 29 October 2009

History

While listening to the "Today" on BBC Radio 4, a question was raised that set me thinking. When does something become history as opposed to current affairs?

It sounds simple enough until you try to put a precise date, or even circumstance, on it. It's something that happened in the past, that's easy enough.

It could be said to be when something is complete. But then is anything ever complete? Don't the crusades, for example, have an influence on the geographical, religious, political position of the Middle East today?

Is the present war in Iraq & Afghanistan history yet? It's certainly not over yet. But even when the fighting is over, will it be over & therefore history? How do you know it isn't going to be the cause of what follows, be it good or evil?

Is what happened yesterday history or current? Where is the transition point? Time is so fluid. The past merges seamlessly into the present into the future.

Is Little B's life & death now history or current? Will that answer change after the funeral? Certainly at the moment he haunts the Pub & the minds of all his friends. Conversations, no matter what subject they start about, all come back to him. His life is now complete. He will never have new adventures, at least not in this world. Does that make him part of history? He certainly had his role in history. He did his military service like all men of his generation. His name will no doubt be recorded in censuses, in the annals of the Building Society he once worked in, on the ownership documents of houses & cars he once owned, & a million other places beside. Or does the very paper trail to be sought somehow make this history?

Questions, questions. The more I seek, the further the answers retreat.

Wednesday 28 October 2009

A big hole

It's amazing what a big hole a small man can leave. Little B was physically a small man - he used to be a cox for rowing & was the ideal shape for a jockey. He was tight-fisted, ready to argue over a penny. He made his half pint last well over an hour. He rarely made any outward show of his feelings. He always signed his cards "With regards". With time it progressed to "With warmest regards" but you knew the depth of the warmth of those regards in a way so often absent from many people's "With love from". He could be incredibly cantakerous & pernicketty. Yet for all he irritated, we loved him & miss him greatly. He could be found at the Pub every day of the week, always pleased to see you. He was one of those few people you could be companionably silent with without feeling embarassed by the lack of words. He just couldn't see the point of speaking unless he had something worthy of saying.

So now we wait once more. Another funeral to go to, our fifth this year. Hopefully our last for a while. Now we just hope it isn't on the same day as Fran & Den's wedding. Nor that he puts too much of a dampener on that event. He wouldn't have wanted that.

Tuesday 27 October 2009

Anxious morning

We're rather anxious at the moment. Little B wasn't at the Pub yesterday. He usually tells people if he's not going to be there, but nobody knows any reason for his absence. It was a bit of a dampener on the afternoon as we worried in case something should be wrong. Little B is a stickler to routine as this is not like him.

So this morning I ring him. No answer. I try both land line & mobile. No answer.

I try ringing the Pub as they had intended to ring in the evening if he hadn't turned up. No. They hadn't been able to locate him. And he hadn't appeared in the evening.

The full scale hunt is on now. We're all telling ourselves he's probably fine. Just forgot to tell someone.

Meanwhile we've rung the hospital. He's not in A&E. Nan, Big B's wife, is popping around. Little B's car is outside his flat. She can see that much from their house. Lin, PD's wife, is also on her way to the flat. I just hope all is well. It's worrying when someone is in their 70s, a bit frail & lives on his own.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Bad news. They found him dead in his bed.

Monday 26 October 2009

Art break

We're contemplating a trip to Liverpool to see the Rothko exhibition at the Tate Modern. We've long appreciated his art in reproduction but never seen the originals. We're very curious to see what difference of effect will be created by the sheer size of the pieces.

I remember once going to the Modern Art gallery in Edinburgh & seeing my first Jackson Pollack. I confess before then I had been telling myself his work was not just a matter of paint splattered on canvas & had merit. I had no doubt that it wasn't just "child play" as some have suggested. But it wasn't until I saw an original hanging there, & the size of it, that I was convinced.

I suspect this exhibition will have a similar effect on me.

Now things are settling a bit more, it's time to turn my attention to finding accommodation for such a trip. Liverpool doesn't take that long to get to from here. However, I'm certain by the time I've made the trip I will not have the stamina to also go round such a demanding exhibition.

The idea of a couple of days away, possibly in the long cold dark days of January/February appeals greatly. Especially when it will hopefully include such a cultural highlight.

Sunday 25 October 2009

All go

It seems to have been a chaotic few days, hence my silence. First was the Farmers' Market, where we had a good stock up of meat after our holiday.

That day, too, we sorted our plans for Xmas. Last year, we had Christmas lunch with MK & Helen. It worked well. This year, now MK is no longer with us, Helen wants to spend her Xmas with family. Not surprising.

We had been dithering whether to find a restaurant here or go away for the holiday period. We tried to book a table at our local pub to find all places taken - had been since last Christmas!

Then we discovered that Den & Fran were tempted to cancel their Xmas trip & instead spend the money on a honeymoon just after their wedding though they weren't very keen on the idea of Xmas on their own. We suggested they might like to join us for a meal somewhere. They instantly cancelled their arrangements & proposed somewhere we might like to check out as a possible venue. So, after the Farmers' Market we set off, tried some food, looked at the wine list & disabled access & booked a table for four for Christmas Day. We didn't really feel like going away again. We've only just got back! And we will have the bonus of their company. It should be good.

Now we've got both lots of insurance sorted. Our nuisance calls ceased after the Fox blasted at them. I'm beginning to think they've finally got the message.

Then yesterday a holiday brochure arrived. I'm surprised to say I found myself quite excited by one place, a gite near Cannes in the South of France. I'm contemplating giving them a ring later today to check the access. If all seems okay, we're thinking of booking for next spring. It's not often we both instinctively take to something, but when we do it usually turns out to be the place, table, wallpaper etc for us. I hope it works out. It will be something to look forward to in the long winter months.

And now winter seems to be catching up rapidly. The clocks have gone back. Once more it will be dark(ish) by 5. Soon it will be considerably earlier than that. Geriatrics' Corner is busy getting itself ready for the coming nuptials next month & there's already 14 to come to the Christmas party meal in December. It's all go.

Wednesday 21 October 2009

East west divide/union

Trouble has come once more to our street. Old readers will remember our next door neighbour, BJ, who lost his wife a few years ago in tragic circumstances. He subsequently remarried, this time a Chinese lass he met when he was working abroad, based in Dubai. Over the weekend, they returned to England after a stay in China .

In the early hours of Tuesday morning, he had to get an ambulance out to get her into hospital. She was burning up.

It turned out that she had a kidney infection. After treatment she was moved to the ward. BJ was shocked. His first wife had died as a result of a kidney infection, & here now, in the very same ward, was his second wife, also with a kidney infection. He feared the worst.

Fortunately his wife was able to come home late in the afternoon. I've just been round to wish her well. It must have been very frightening for her. Her English language is poor, so it must have been difficult to understand what was happening around her in a system so very different from her own.

I gather from BJ she's brought with her a suitcase of Chinese food delicacies & medicines, things she's not able to buy here. In the English hospital she gets pills & injections rather than herbs. As for food, that she asked BJ to bring in. He's no Chinese chef. He ends up taking in a KFC bucket of food & she doesn't even like chicken!

Still she's home. She's still having pain & not feeling entirely well, but she thinks she's over the worst. I hope so. She's having enough problems adjusting to England.

She finds it very cold. This seems surprising when in the part of China she comes from their winter temperatures are well below zero. The difference is that she's never experienced wind on the scale we have it here on the Irish Sea coast. That blows straight through her. As for the culture, she still cannot understand a culture in which the old & disabled are shovelled off into nursing homes rather than being looked after by the family in the family home.

There's only one good thing about England in her opinion. In China you live in an apartment flat in a tower block - very comfortable with all mod cons from the photos they've shown me - rather than a house with a garden. She does like the idea of being able to step out of your own door into your own garden. But that is little consolation for being away from her family & in the cold.

The only thing is, for BJ, no matter how little time he spends here, he ultimately feels England is home & he wants to keep his roots here. A dilemma for them both to solve.

Tuesday 20 October 2009

Food days

"What's for dinner?" they ask at the Pub.

"Duck with cherry sauce," we reply.

"With black cherries?" asks Gaz, the Pub owner/manager.

"Yes," we say.

Envious eyes all turn our way.

"But it's Monday!" exclaim our friends.

I cannot understand why particular meals should be reserved for particular days, why the more extravagant meals like duck & cherry sauce are too good to have on a Monday. I can see the weekend is the only time when many people have the time to cook something more complicated &/or time-consuming. In times past, before the days of fridges & freezers, that meant Monday was often the left over weekend roast. I don't understand why that should apply now.

I suspect they would be equally alarmed at the idea of us having cod for dinner today. I can almost hear the words "But it's not Friday". As far as I'm concerned any day of the week is a potentially good day for fish.


Monday 19 October 2009

Insurance pains

It's that time of year again. The car & house insurance are both due soon.

This year I'm being pestered by people I've had quotes from in previous years. This is a new phenomenon & I don't like it. I feel I'm being pressured into making decisions before I'm ready.

This really got to me last week when I'd hardly had chance to get through the post that had collected from our holidays. Before I'd even had the opportunity to open the renewal notices & see the proposed premiums from our current insurers, they were onto me. I suggested they just left their numbers & I'd get back to them when I had had chance to get myself sorted. But no. That isn't good enough to them. They will ring me back.

And THEY DID. DAILY.

They rattle off figures for various eventualities & I sat that dumb, not taking in a thing they said.

As the week went on & we had our bad health news, still they continued to ring. Sure the price went down, but my mind couldn't focus on what they were saying.

I was beginning to dread the phone ringing. I even began to not answer the phone until I heard the other party's voice on the answerphone. That way I knew whether it was friend or foe first.

Over the weekend I've calmed down sufficiently to be able to look at our present insurers' quotes. And you know what? No hassle & lower quotes.

I'm rather relieved. I was at the stage of thinking I didn't want to change. The very pressure being put on me deterred me. And yet at the same time I didn't want to miss out on a bargain. It seems I don't have to. Now I'm ready to say a definite no to the pests & stay where we are.

Surely I'm not the only one put off by such sales tactics. Or am I?


Sunday 18 October 2009

Old crockery

Thursday was a traumatic day. We spent an hour at the surgery getting results of tests. The Fox has all ready told his readers about his medical problems. I ended up back at the surgery on Friday.

My problems are related to blood pressure. Somehow I've managed to get the upper figure, the diastolic, high yet the lower figure, the systolic, very low. This means increasing my blood pressure pills is not an option as I would just be blacking out as both figures would go down including the systolic number. So I'm now on water pills. Just mild diuretics.

All this new knowledge came to light when I mentioned I was having a few dizzy spells & my ankles seem to be swelling up a bit for no particular reason. The swelling was causing no pain or discomfort. My ankles are their normal slim selves most of the time, but I keep having spells when they swell up for a few days/weeks. My doctor instantly took my blood pressure. As I had had to rush to get to the appointment on time, he thought that was probably all that was the cause of the high blood pressure then. To be on the safe side he suggested I had another reading when we got back from our hols & I was more relaxed. That was what happened to me on Thursday to discover my blood pressure had only gone up in the intervening couple of weeks.

So now I'm on yet more pills. Since the doctor reckoned the ankle swelling was probably the result of water retention due to lack of exercise, hopefully that means my ankles will now stay slim. At least, these water pills do not seem to have had an adverse effect on my bladder. I've not had any urgent need to rush to the loo, as so many people do. Just as well, as I don't think I could rush anywhere these days. He did say they were only mild so shouldn't have that sort of side effect.

Now we wait for next week for the results of the blood tests done on the Fox, & next month to see if the tweaking of both our medication has achieved the desired effects.

I can't say much for this growing old. It just seems to be a case of one thing after another packing up. Still, as the Fox says, it's better than the alternative.

Thursday 15 October 2009

Shopping

Yesterday we did the first food shop since our return home. Before that we'd only bought milk.

It's good once more to have fresh veg in the house. We're celebrating tonight with the Fox getting out his trusty wok & doing a stir-fry.

It took us ages doing the shopping. This was not because the list was long but rather that, in our absence, Morrisons had rearranged the shelves. With the result we went to the usual shelf for tinned fruit to discover mustards & pickles. The eggs had become flavoured milks. (We eventually found the eggs with the bread!) The crackers had disappeared to the far end of the crisps & other nibbles shelf.

I know the idea is to make you buy more, to see anew the range of products, but I do find it very frustrating. We must have gone round the shop several times, having to ask staff where things now were. And at the end of the day I bought what was on my list & nothing more. Indeed some things I didn't buy because I lost patience hunting for them!

In this area, Morrisons supermarket (where we tend to shop) is recognised as the most popular supermarket with people with mental health problems because they rarely change the lay out, unlike the other stores. Sure the end shelving, the special offers, change but rarely anything more substantial. Hopefully this will be it for a while. Hope so!

Wednesday 14 October 2009

Secure?


Parkland & Reggia di Caserta

This morning I found myself reading an article in this week's Radio Times, entitled "The night our democracy changed", about the Brighton bombing in 1984. It made me stop & think, even connecting together some very disjointed facts in my mind.

It had never occurred to me just how much greater the level of security around politicians had become since those days. I realise, of course, how much more surveillance generally there has been since the Twin Towers & the London bombings, how many more armed police there seems to be on the streets & in airports. It wasn't until I was reading this article that I found myself thinking of some of the deleterious effects of all this security, to question indeed if all this security wasn't in fact dangerous.

The article mentioned that these days, we, the electorate have to be scanned & photographed if we decide to venture into the Houses of Parliament to see our MP.

Suddenly something clicked in my mind. On our Italian holiday, we'd visited the Reggia di Caserta. This magnificent palace was built in the 18th century to rival Versailles. As we went round, faced with such opulence, we couldn't help thinking about the cost of building a place like this, not just in financial terms.

As with Versailles, the people living in this, almost, city must have got used to this environment, inevitably losing contact with the reality of the life of the general working population around them & who they ruled. The taxes to build & maintain the palace & its vast elaborate grounds, presumably gathered from the poor, must have been horrendous.

One of the causes of the French Revolution was undoubtedly the fact that the monarchy lost touch with the ordinary Frenchman. Marie-Antoinette's supposed comment of "Let them eat cake", missed the point. The average person just wanted not to starve, to be able to afford some bread, anything, for their stomach & to have a shelter over their heads. Her country idyll in the Petit Trianon did not reflect the life of the average farmer trying to eke out a living. The more the monarchy & aristocracy cut themselves off from the reality of most of the population's life, as they moved out of Paris into this golden cage, the more they ceased to understand the life & needs of that population. People can only be pushed so far before they rebel.

Also, connected in my mind is the present re-emergence of the current MP's expenses scandal in this country. You hear the MPs defending their expenditure as being normal, not excessive. Don't they realise that many people, not necessarily high earners, have to have 2 homes these days? These people don't get all their expenses, including mortgages paid by their employers. Nor can they claim them as work expenses on their income tax forms. That's why people are so up in arms.

I accept that a certain level of expense is incurred through the job of being an MP. You do have to attend an awfully large number of functions, dressed appropriately. The cost of living in London is high & sometimes you do have to entertain. If they represent constituencies far from London, they do need to be able to afford regular trips to those constituencies to keep in touch with the concerns of their electorate. They may need to travel abroad to discover the reality of how things are done elsewhere & bring back any better solutions in education, health services, prevention of crime etc. But they don't need huge TVs, duck houses, vast estates requiring cleaners & gardeners.

The idea of security is great, but it does bring problems. I admire the Queen for continuing to venture out to meet the people without being constantly behind a bulletproof screen. And she does that despite being shot at in the past. It's time the MPs showed similar courage & maybe meet their electorate, & not just the party faithful. You never know they may even begin to understand the concerns of you & me.

Tuesday 13 October 2009

Joys of cooking

Turkey today. I've just been making some turkey croquettes, stuffed with bacon & cheese. The stuffing will come as a surprise to the Fox. I don't usually put bacon & cheese in croquettes. Oh it's just so great to be cooking again.

Most aspects of housework I've given up as my disability grew. I never did get much satisfaction from cleaning. When I found myself falling into a fire (fortunately not switched on), I happily left the cleaning to others, first a cleaner we got in, nowadays the Fox. But cooking is a different matter.

It's partially there is just so many things you could do. Different methods of cooking. Different foods. Different styles. Different taste sensations to create & enjoy.

And as if the cooking isn't enough, there's (hopefully) the joy of eating the completed meal & sharing it with family & friends, accompanied with a nice bottle of wine & plenty of good conversation.

These days cooking tends to be the main focus of my day's activities. It can be tiring. The standing necessitated can be pain-filled. But it does repay me with a sense of satisfaction, a feeling of doing something of value in my life (I can't quite get away from the curse of the work ethic!) as well as a certain amount of self-expression. No. Cooking is the last domestic chore I'll be giving up for good.

I've had to accept only cooking a maximum of 5 days a week due to disability. Fortunately the Fox has discovered his culinary skills & passion, so we still eat well.

The world looks so much better on a stomach full of good food.

Monday 12 October 2009

Great to be home

The sun is shining. I've hastily put the washing out. I can't imagine anything is going to dry very quickly when the outside thermometer is only just getting over the zero mark. Still, if only one thing dries, it will be worth it, when I have so much to do at the moment.

I'm getting chores done today. I've organised the Fox to go for his flu jab this evening. In the letter offering it to him, there was some info about Warm Front, the government scheme for helping people with the costs of improving insulation & heating systems. Our central heating boiler seems to be leaking at the moment. It's due for its service any time now, but I would be surprised if that will solve the problem. There's been a slow leak for years that's just got worse. The boiler itself must date from the 1970s by the look of it, not the most efficient type these days. I gave them a ring earlier this morning. As I'm disabled I should be able to get a grant to help with the cost of replacing it. So fingers crossed.

Above all I'm looking forward to doing some cooking this evening. Since our return from Italy, the Fox has been serving some of Booth's frozen ready meals - pricey but very good - or it's been the chippy. The idea of floddies (bacon rostis) & baked beans sound fabulous to us right now. Italy doesn't seem to do bacon. There's ham, both cooked & Parma, but not bacon. So floddies should be a real treat, as well as another step on the way to feeling home again.

The only thing left of normality to sort is the food shopping. That can wait another day or two. On the trip back we bought some milk - essential for teas, another thing we missed. The potatoes have kept well in our absence. As for the rest, we can get things out of the freezer until we feel a little restored from our journey.

Oh, and there's still some less urgent post to look at. But at least the bills & anything else urgent have been sorted now.

It still feels great to be home.

Sunday 11 October 2009

Getting back to normal

It's strangely disorientating being home. Neither of us seem to be sleeping well, despite a more comfortable bed & temperature. And the blessed silence! We can't quite understand why this should be. We've not been home long enough to be stressed out. I suspect it has to do with the fact I, at least, half-expect to wake up in Pompei once more. I seem to return there in my dozes. Even in my waking hours I feel I'm only half here. The rest of me is still in mid-flight over Europe.

We've been hastily getting on top of the washing. There always seems to be so much to do after a holiday. There's also a pile of post to wade through.

Then, too, we've been catching up on what our friends have been up to in our absence. We've been down to the village pub as well as the Pub. The Fox always feels more at home when he's been able to have a good pint of real English bitter. You don't seem to get anything like it abroad.

Life will soon be back to normal.

It's good to be home.

Saturday 10 October 2009

An engagement

One of the first things we noticed as we got home & stepped into our kitchen was the answerphone light blinking. We listened to the messages. Three of them were from our friend, PD. In the end he could restrain himself no longer. He was bursting to tell us the news. Our mutual friend, Den, had finally got around to proposing to Fran, another friend. And she accepted.

So with a bit of luck, next month we're off to a wedding. They're hoping to book the registry office on Monday.

They're both in their mid-seventies, so
don't feel they can afford to wait years to actually get married. Their affection for each other is evident. They've been through bad times together. The death of Harry, Fran's first husband & Den's close friend, was hard for them both to cope with. They both loved Harry in their different ways.

We're really overjoyed for them both & wish them all the very best.

Home

As so often, coming home from foreign parts makes me really appreciate home & England.

As we drove home up the motorway, I couldn't help wondering at the sheer beauty of England. After the vibrant colours of Italy, the soft muted shades of England are fabulous. The variety of green - dark, lemony, greyish, emerald - so subtle. The further north we drove, the more signs of autumn appeared. Golden colours, oranges, reds & browns appeared on the wayside trees & bracken. Even the grey sky I so often moan about, had shape & variation of colour. The sheer variety of trees is overwhelming; in Italy it seemed all palms & umbrella pines.

And then this morning I woke to find the garden disappearing in mist, only now starting to clear. There is just so much variation in weather. You're never quite sure what you'll find when you look out.

The very air is so much fresher & refreshing. Admittedly, it is colder. We've had to resort to jumpers & even a bit of heating in the evening & early morning.

The driving was blissful. Nobody reversed up the motorway, as they did in Italy. No cars hooting. Drivers once more stop at stop signs & red traffic lights. So much more relaxing. And what is more the traffic keeps moving better.

The virtual silence is another joy to us. We live on a quiet road in a suburban area, yet there's no sound of traffic except on rare occasions as someone passes by.

After we'd unpacked & eaten last night, we opened a bottle of wine to celebrate our return. We usually put on a CD to play gently in the background, but not last night. Instead we enjoyed the sounds of silence. What joy! Our hotel in Pompei had been good, on the juncture of two narrow streets. Our room was double-glazed & air-conditioned. Yet rarely the sound of traffic stopped. It went on all day & night continued. Horns hooted, engines revved, brakes squealed, car radios blared. I could tell the time just from listening to the volume of traffic. And that's not to mention the sound of voices as everybody, but everybody, promenaded through the evening, laughing & talking at the top of their voices to be heard over the sound of traffic. And they reckon Pompei is "tranquille". They don't know the meaning of the word.

Oh it's great to be back in the peace & quiet of our home and in such a beautiful country as England!

Tuesday 6 October 2009

Fireworks in Pompei

WE'D just ordered our meal - vermicelli con vongole (baby clams) followed by roast chicken - when it began.

First we heard some tannoyed music. It sounded like hymns. Before long we noticed the police arrive. Then came the procession led by some sort of banner, followed by the band, then the nuns dressed in white. After them came what looked like a hearse with no coffin in it, followed by the black of priests & finally the good people of Pompei. The staff of the restaurant all quickly went out of the garden restaurant gates to watch the procession.

When the food was served we tried to ask what was happening. As far as we could gather from what Mario said (in Italian), it was the day for celebrating Pompei's patron saint. The hearse must have carried the relics of the saintly man.

We continued with our meal.

After we'd had our fill, Mario deceded we really wanted some ice cream, banana, lemon sorbet & strwberry. We'd just sorted out the flavours when there was an all mighty bang. With our fellow diners, we hastily got to the gates. The fireworks had begun. One of the best displays I think I've ever seen. By the time we got back to our table the ice cream was well on its way to melting.

It is with relief that no limoncello arrived. I have to confess I've not felt very bright the last couple of mornings since that fiery liquid appeared on the scene. Today I felt considrably better even though we had a bottle of wine in our room after we got back to the hotel.

Monday 5 October 2009

Sfogliatella

So what treat did Mario have in store for us last night? As we ended our meal, feeling fair stuffed, a plate arrived with 2 sfogliatella accompanied by 2 more glasses of limoncello. What is sfogliatella? It's puff pastry, half-moon shape. It's served hot, freshly baked. It's filled with ricotta cheese, candied fruit, predominately lemon, & semolina. The fruit is so finely cut that it is more of a powder, a flavouring, than anything you can bite into. I was surprised by how enjoyable it was. In England I can't say much for ricotta cheese. I find it bland beyond words & with an unpleasant texture to boot. But this was something else.

We're coming to the conclusion that the food often surprises us. The proscuittio & salami we keep getting is so moist, quite fatty, not at all like the dried out stuff you usually get in England. Clearly something gets lost en route or we Brits just get the poor stuff.

As I say, things are different. Our sole meuniere came as a piece of fish (not sole as we know it), poached in a broth, topped with various veg. Last night's pizza, ham & sweetcorn, came with no tomato on it. If we'd realised we would have got a separate side plate of tomatoes. The breakfast croissants are filled with a very sweet jam - to be avoided unless you have a very sweet tooth - a bit much for us. Even the spag bol doesn't look like anything that passes for that name in England.

We also suspect these little culinary gifts are not just from Mario. There's a definite conspiracy going on. You can see the whispers & nudges, the anxious looks as we bite in, among the waiters & other kitchen staff. We get asked if it was good by them all. When we go, they all line up for thanks from us, & to wish us goodnight. We seem to have to do a lot of handshaking, too, before we're allowed out of the place. So far Mario is the only one to feel confident enough to kiss my hand, though. Good people as we've said.

Sunday 4 October 2009

Salerno via Naples

As today is Sunday & therefore the roads should be quieter, we thought we would have a go at tackling Naples, check out the route to the airport for our return & maybe visit the Archeological Museum, where many of the findings from the excavations in the area are on display. My visit to Pompei had been disappointing as all the exciting places & treasures were inaccessible to me. This we thought was the solution.

First we got lost in Naples, ending up at the port. At this point we realised, there were street markets everywhere & the traffic was teeming as ruleless as ever.

Fortunately, yesterday, we had bought a street map of Naples. Just as well, we soon refound ourselves. We got on to a main road. Plain sailing.

Only thing is the police kept closing off bits of road for no apparent reason. You could see another barrier & a policeman just a couple of hundred yards on. No roadworks. No people. No apparent reason for the closure.

We zigzagged through Naples, grateful for the map. We couldn't believe it when we finally found the museum.

Where to park? The clearly has a museum car park but we couldn't find the entry. There was parking on the street, most of it taken. Our real problem is that it just looked such a rough area we weren't sure if the car would still be there when we got back. Even if it was there, we wondered what state it would be in.

We both said, more or less as one voice, "Let's get out of here". We set off, stopping briefly at the airport. That at least we found, both the terminal & the car return car park.

Naples is not a nice city. All the time we had feared to open a window for fear someone would try to grab a bag or something. A sense of danger is palpable. And the filth & litter!!

We set off for Salerno with relief. There we had a pleasant stroll along the lungomare (prom). There we felt safe. The Med was blue as blue can be. The tree-lined sections protected us from the worse of the midday soon. A gentle breeze blew along its length. Salerno seems so much more prosperous & beautiful than many places around. Though even here, it would be so much better if something could be done about the litter & graffitti.

Limoncello

It seemed strange last might. We dined at our usual restaurant, outside under a wysteria canopy, but there was no Mario. Finally I spotted him going to & fro from the kitchen. He was busy with serving the inside rooms. He spotted us, blew me a kiss & called out to the Fox.

The restaurant was fair buzzing, more diners than we've seen there before. I suppose it is inevitable that Saturday night should be so busy if the food is any good. And it certainly is at this place. We thought we'd see no more of Mario, except to wish him good night.

When we came to pay our bill, I noticed Mario having some conversation with our waiter of the night, nodding from time to time in our direction. The bill seemed to be taking for ages to come.

Eventually, instead of the bill, the waiter brought out a tray with a few sweet nibbles and two small, tall, thin, glasses. The glass seemed frosted & filled with a pale yellow liquid. This we were told was limoncello, a present from Mario. We nervously lifted the glasses & sniffed. Lemon meringue pie.

We took a sip. Wow! It certainly has a kick! Flavour is rather lemon meringue pie-ish, the pastry being supplied by the nibbles. You certainly couldn't drink much. It went straight to our heads.

Needless to say, when our bill did eventually arrive, we went in to pay & thank Mario. It was so kind. We just wish our Italian was up to having a proper conversation. I suspect we would have the beginnings of a true friendship. Instead we have to depend on a limited few words & a lot of gestures & good will.

A conundrum

Some of our frustrations continue. Yesterday we did actually manage to get to Castellamare. We intended to go up Mt Faito on the funivia (vernicular railway). After a bit of difficulty & the Fox asking at the ticket office, we managed to find the disabled access to the ticket office & tried to buy some tickets. I was somewhat surprised when, hearing our request, the man instantly got on the phone. It turned out he was checking access. Sure enough the station may be accessible but the platform is a different matter. So much for that idea. I am left wondering why go to the expense & trouble of building a ramp to get a wheelchair into the station, if at the end of the day it is impossible to get on the platform.

After a stroll along the prom, we stopped for a drink & realised there was a road most of the way up the mountain, so we should be able to get sufficiently far up to get some fabulous views of Naples Bay. After the rain the day before the heat haze which had softened distant views so much, had dissipated.

So off we set. According to the map, there was a sharp hairpin bed to the left, or you could go a little further, turn left onto the main road then a right. I chose the latter.

That was a mistake. The mapmaker had failed to mark that the main road went into a tunnel under the road to the mountain.

We tried going back. This time we managed to end up a cul-de-sac, wide enough for one car with no passing places. By the time we'd managed to back far enough back, not hitting the walls, at the edge & turn round, we concluded our nerves were once more too frayed to do anything but head back to the safety of our hotel in Pompei.

Friday 2 October 2009

Golden peas

Yesterday's dinner featured penne ai piselli dorato (penne pasta with golden peas). We expected it must be some strange variety of pea, yellow rather than green. But no. The gold was provided the golden egg in the mixture. Delicious. A speciality of our favourite restaurant on the Italian menu only.

Poverty

Why does being in an area of great poverty seem so threatening? We, like many of our fellow tourists, find ouselves uneasy in some of the poorer areas.

That they are often dirty & bedraggled make these areas ugly, but surely that by itself shouldn't be frightening. I can understand that life in crushing poverty must mean not having the money to do repairs & redecoration. The lack of self-respect & esteem too can conduce to an indifference to litter & a general temptation to just drop things on the floor, especially even you have to pay for official tips etc.

Is it just we've read about so much crime in this area? I felt a similar anxiety in St Lucia, yet crime is not supposed to be rife there.

I accept some of the causes of poverty are drugs & alcohol. People under such influences can be unpredictable, & in dire need of money to get the fix of their choice. I can't even be surprised that people in such a hopeless position may well want to escape into their addiction.

I accept, too, that people have to be tough in order to survive that daily grind. And some no doubt have criminal records. I can't entirely condemn someone for stealing rather than starving.

But the fact is, in my experience, most poor people are good people, hard-working for very little reward, generous to a fault.

Is it that I think I might be the cause of envy for my more affluent lifestyle? Or is it a fear of becoming a part of that poverty?

I just don't know. I'm just uneasy & wary.

Drive along the coast

The weather started to change late afternoon yesterday. A cool breeze got up. For the first time we had to dine inside as it was too cold outside. By this morning the rain had come. Still we are ready for a quiet day. I've managed to catch a cold. We had to tackle the chemist for tissues as there were none on display - quite a challenge with our limited Italian!

The reason the Fox is weary is that he did a lot of driving yesterday. Around 10am we set off for the autostrada (motorway) to Salerno. Needless to say we couldn't find it & found ourselves on our way to Sorrento, the very road we couldn't find when we tried to go to Castellamare. However, once found, this road was well signposted. Clearly they expect foreign drivers in this more touristy area. The drivers even showed more consideration. I suspect they were mainly foreigners like us, used to driving with rules.

The heat haze obscured the view over Naples Bay to Naples itself. Nonetheless the Med was deep blue, brightly coloured boats bobbed in the harbours. As we entered Sorrento after many photo stops, we once got lost in the myriad of small streets. However, I had noticed a sign to the Amalfi Coast so we headed that way. On this side of the Sorrento peninsula the cliffs were even more impressive, sheer drops in parts. Houses clung perilously to the cliffs. In places the rocks had white vertical streaks as though they had been crying. At times the Med was more a deep green. I can well believe the Emerald Grotto is along here. The road twisted this way & that. We stopped frequently to admire the view of Salerno Bay.

We reached Amalfi itself in the early afternoon. By this time the coaches & buses arrived on the scene. They hurtle around the hairpin bends oblivious of anyone coming the other way. We screamed to a halt several times. By this time the pleasurable drive was becoming once more stressful & I was sinking under the onslaught of my cold. We headed towards the motorway just before Salerno.

It has to be admitted motorways are not usually my favourite kind of road, but here, in Italy, they do have the advantage of being quieter, direct, fast & less stressful than the other roads. Even if you have to pay, it's cheap when you consider how much we must have spent on petrol on some of the long diversions we've ended up making.