Tag Archives: julie andrews

Thursday 10th May 2018 – I’M BACK HOME

Yes, with Alison being busy I haven’t hung around in Leuven this time. I came straight back on the train today.

But let’s start at the very beginning – a very good place to start, as Julie Andrews tells us.

As for last night’s sleep, that was one of the best yet.

With having had a hard day yesterday I was struggling to keep awake even while I was writing last night’s blog and once I’d finished and had lain down on the bed, that really was that, even though it wasn’t quite 22:00.

And for that reason, when someone knocked on my neighbour’s door at 05:00 to awaken him for work, I didn’t mind at all. For that was the first noise that I had heard all night.

First real noise, that is, because there had been plenty of others during my nocturnal voyages. We started off doing something that involved someone – an accountant from Vancouver – from where I used to work. What was interesting about this was not the voyage itself, but the fact that I awoke from it (although I didn’t) and thought that I had better write it down. And so I did – in a kind of spidery hand that when I looked at it after I had read it, I couldn’t make out a word. But of course I didn’t write it down at all. It’s quite amazing where these nocturnal voyages can take me.
A little later I was with Nerina again. She was in bed and she protested that I had hit her. I explained that there was some animal chasing a squirrel- a squirrel that was covered in fleas and maggots and the like – and the squirrel was trying to take refuge in the bed with her, and so I was preventing it from doing so. But of course you would never convince her of that.

But anyway, I was up with the alarm at 06:20 and went through the usual morning ritual, followed by a nice hot shower. Need to be fresh for my journey back home.

Having nipped out for a baguette, I made my butties for the trip and then made ready to leave. And then having to go back for the hat that I had forgotten.

While I was in the office and seeing as I know my plans (or, rather, Alison’s plans) for the next month, I booked my room. Appointment is on the Thursday so I’ll be arriving on the Wednesday, staying Wednesday, Thursday and Friday night (I’m determined to get to see the railway museum in Schaerbeek) and then back home on the Saturday.

At the station I bought my ticket for Brussels and stepped out of the ticket office to find a Brussels train already at the platform. And so I leapt aboard. And wasn’t that a mistake?

It’s a Bank Holiday in Belgium today and so many people are bridging the gap over to the weekend and having four days by the seaside on the Costa Stella. And the train that I had leapt aboard was the express to Blankenberge. So standing room only, I’m afraid.

But at least I was in Brussels with plenty of time (like two hours) to spare before my train; And the time would have dragged had I not found an abandoned Sudoku book with a couple of games still uncompleted.

tgv gare du midi bruxelles belgiqueUp on the platform I took my … errr … station where the noticeboard indicated that my carriage would stop, but the blasted thing shot past me without stopping and I had to run halfway down one of the longest platforms in Belgium.

It seems that instead of a 16-car unit, it was only an 8-car unit today – the bit that comes down from Amsterdam and Antwerp.

And packed too. It took ages to find my seat and then there was a regular change of companion until we finally settled on a young Dutch girl with a 7-month old baby. That kind of thing does my self-esteem a pile of good, I’ll tell you.

Across Paris with little or no effort at all, and then joining the crowds of people waiting at the Gare Montparnasse, where I ate my butties.

SNCF multiple unit gare de granville manche normandy franceThe train to Granville was heaving too and I had a fit of confusion, taking four attempts to find my seat, disturbing a couple of piles of people in the process.

But eventually I found the correct seat and settled down for the uneventful journey home. So uneventful in fact that I slept for much of the journey home, despite having the headphones on and listening to stuff on the laptop.

All of this travel is clearly getting to me

The walk back up here was likewise uneventful which suited me fine and it didn’t take too long to be back. And I seem to have brought a streaming headcold with me yet again.

And remind me not to travel on a Bank Holiday ever again.

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Thursday 26th November 2009 – "This is the song of a girl and goatherd….

…. lay oh dalayee oh da layeeeeeeooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh”
sang Julie Andrews in “The Sound of Music”. And I should know. Having a stagestruck mother whose own mother (my grandmother) was a Zeigfield Folly on Broadway in the 1920s I had as a child to sit through every single musical that ever came out and I know the script and the lyrics of each one off by heart. And I don’t ever want to see another musical for as long as I live.

But Julie Andrews didn’t know the story about one particular goatherd who lived just down the road here in Teilhet. He had rented some land for his goats – land that had been “promised” to other people. And one night all his goats were killed. And another night his barn was burnt down. And then he received threatening letters.

A group of people around here felt that the police were dragging their heels and that it was the locals, having been “promised” the land, who were behind all of the shenanigans. This group organised all kinds of demonstrations aimed at confronting the police, trying to provoke some kind of retaliation by the authorities into the locals and their affairs – generally stirring up the community and the like. I was asked to join in the action too, but I stepped back and urged the others to think before they went too far. I usually like to hear both sides of the story before I leap into anything.

This didn’t go down too well at all with some of the others and when a most offensive petition aimed at the local community was drafted in the name of an organisation of which I happened to be a member, I withdrew my support. I received a barrage of e-mails the contents of which would have been out of place in the fo’c’sle of The Good Ship Venus. Accusing me of “being just as guilty as those who are behind the violence” was the least of the criticisms.

Meanwhile, about 100 miles away from here in a village called Tarnac, there is “The Tarnac affair”. Persons unknown placed some railway sleepers across the main TGV line in an attempt to derail a train. Luckily no major damage was done. A short while later a group of young persons in Tarnac was rounded up by the police in respect of this sabotage and were charged, not under “civil” legislation such as criminal damage and the like, but special “terrorism” legislation. It was claimed that this group of persons had contacts with other international groups aimed at disrupting civil society and that sort of thing.

One person whose evidence was instrumental in this case was the famous “witness X”, whose identity was kept secret to avoid “repercussions” due to the nature of his evidence.

And today, the identity of “witness X” has been announced. And who do you think that it is?

Yes, you’re right. None other than our local goatherd.

Now of course there is no evidence to suggest that this group of terrorists or any supporters thereof are behind the attacks on this guy’s farm and his goats (graphologists attached to the French Government say that the writing on the letters matches his own handwriting but he denies this) but it’s a story that is at least as plausible as that of the outraged locals undertaking the attacks. And you can see why the authorities have been thought to be dragging their feet in this affair – the ramifications of the goatherd’s involvement with the “terrorists” of the Tarnac affair stretch across all kinds of international boundaries and go way beyond an ordinary village feud.

Pretty soon, I’ll be seeing some of the people involved in this sorry affair. I’m not expecting an apology for the vilification and the ostracism to which I have been subjected over the past 12 months, but I’ll be intrigued to see how many of them come up to me and admit that I had a very valid point.

In other news, Terry came round today and we went and shovelled some sand into some sacks. 1.4 tonnes of it. We had some good luck too at the quarry, but in the interests of discretion (you never know who reads this blog) I can’t say anything about it.

Afterwards I did some washing, including my really comfy “Hawkshead” boots that a slug had made a home in and as I couldn’t settle down afterwards I went into St Eloy and did my shopping. I met Francois from the Anglo-French group in LIDL and we had a chat.

Yes, shopping today. That’s unusual. But I’m busy all day Saturday. Terry and Liz are having a chantier at their house and that might mean vegan chocolate cake.

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