WOW! That was too close this time.

Imagine sitting at your computer concentrating on one thing or another and you are made aware of an unusual noise.
Loud and sounding off quite frequently; with no rhythm, no beat, I looked out to see one of the Virgin balloons flying over the houses opposite.
Now this in itself isn't unusual, balloons of all shapes, sizes and colours come over in the summer; I get the impression  a club is relatively near by.
What was unusual was........the height!

 
 The burners were firing up repeatedly, but whatever the pilot did their altitude continued to drop. Faces of the passengers in the balloon became clear and I could see the colour of their jackets they were getting so close. They were enjoying the experience and were waving and smiling at those of us below now transfixed by this ground-approaching balloon.
Then the balloon hit a down-draft and sank lower.



 


It might look as though they are rising, but I promise you they weren't, it was the angle I ended up taking the photo.Hanging out of the window, I caught this final shot as they passed over next-door-but-one's roof.

If it had been a plane, the pilot would have been in breech of flying regs round here. In this case it appeared the passengers were having a lovely time, it was just people like me on the ground who had seen many pass by that I knew this flight was considerably lower than usual.
I still wonder whether they managed to regain full altitude by the time they had passed over our estate, and pondered as to where they intended landing.
Was that far away, or was it going to be in one of the fields about two mile further on, as the crow flies? The answer to that I will never know.

Nature's Privileges

Sometimes, if you're really lucky, and you have an interest in the natural world as I do, you happen across something.

I was out walking back having enjoyed a cup of tea from the Costa coffee house, outside in the sun. I had a gardening magazine with me and I was reading through about geraniums and the new varieties which have recently come onto the market.
There was a breeze so any heat was dissipated and sitting there was a complete joy.
I raised my head from the magazine and my mind travelled to Costa Teguise, sitting on the front, by the sea. The distant sound of vehicles and industry only adding to the recognised soundscape. It was a moment of bliss and it made me think how excited I was to be returning there next March and spending part of the month there.
I shook my head and returned to present reality and finishing the tea, collected all my bits and pieces and started the walk back to the car. The wind had suddenly stopped and I felt how much the temperature had climbed since I left the house this morning.
As I approached the waste bin I saw a strange looking bee on the floor, it was either being eaten by another bee or they were fighting. Then i looked closer, no, thy were mating and the male was tapping the much larger female in a particular rhythm so as to suggest she didn't sting.

 Sitting as they were, pretty much where all feet would fall walking by, I enjoyed the observation for a while, attempted to take a few photos and then set about moving them to a safer place.
Mm, did they know I was attempting to help? No, of course not. After a few attempts she managed to get airborne with him still attached at the rear. 
As she circled to find a place to collapse, I utilised the cup, hooked her out of the air (obviously hitting tea dregs, oops) and in one elegant swing, deposited the pair of them onto some plants. 
I couldn't get over the size difference! She was at least twice the size of him and could take the head off that male of she wasn't such a vegetarian. 
Talking of biting heads off males.
I had another encounter with mating insects yesterday. I was at my compost heap, as you do, checking the late fruiting raspberries, where else, when I noticed a very large spider, and on the same web, a tiddly one about a quarter of the larger one's size.
Think I could tell which was which in the sex stakes! 
The male was no fool, instinct had already programmed him to keep one leg on a very good drop wire and approach with caution. Beating the front legs on the web, he rhythmically repeated a set phrase and as he did he cautiously moved forward towards her.
Oh, was she intent on the movements on her web! It was only that drumming which had managed to keep him alive this long.
I watched,entranced by the absolute dance of death. One wrong beat and he'd be wrapped for desert, delivery unmade. Slowly edging forward he approached her. 
She lunged. 
He retreated. 
He started again. 
Drumming again, he began the second approach.
Drumming, drumming, closer, closer.
Then, BAM, she lunged and with a split second he dropped off the web.
I have no idea what happened after that. I bemoaned not having a camera to hand but at least I had seen it and now I have committed it to the blog.
 

The modern day Rubinesque

I have been out walking over the past few mornings, whilst the temperature was less than 26 degrees and have noticed the number of very rounded, soft and somewhat independently mobile females walking around.
Even the youngsters are now filling out early and stores catering for the 18 to 36 sizes are starting to pop up in empty lots in the High Street. The new average is established as a size 16 and anything less than that is either an athlete or just plain skinny. Big bossom and big bottom is considered to be a celebration of what's feminine and their ability to 'be themselves'.
We are watching the beginnings of the Rubenesque women once more.
In the time when Rubens was painting, the wealthier they were was reflected in the weight and curvaceousness of their women. It also tied in with their ability to take a pregnancy to term and then a better chance of delivering a live birth, followed by nursing it afterwards, unless they had a wet-nurse, of course.
In those days, a well covered woman meant there had been no starvation and hence fewer health problems prior to conception.
Babies were fat, mothers were fat and this was seen as a sign of wealth. Look at pictures of this time and its a common theme.

My era was different. We had stick thin models who ate full sized English breakfasts, a lunch and dinner and never skimped on their food.......but only ate three times a day. No snacks, no quick cola, no quick burger and run, let alone a latte with all the added syrups and cream. They didn't need to, their three meals had enough calories to keep them going.
This lady, Twiggy, was one of the fore-runners and introduced us to a time when the austerity of wartime was over and times of plenty were on the way.
She showed us through her fashion, what every young woman wanted, to step away from mum and become a person with their own fashions, their own way of life.

A dress code began; jeans and Tshirts with beads and big sunglasses for one group, long flowing, flowery dresses with plunging neck lines revealing no bra needed and the leather clad, jack boot wearing group who always looked dirty, stank of engine oil and spent their lives dressed in black ,either by design or necessity.
It didn't matter which clique you belonged to, very rarely was anyone particularly overweight. The average size then was pretty much the same as it had been in the 1950s and hovered around size 12.

Now we have all this preoccupation with diets, reducing this, cutting out that, and its not working ,we're just getting bigger and soon we will be in the same position as those in Ruben's times; men seeking out the softer and bigger women because they will make better mates.
But will they? 
Or are we heading for a generation who dies young by comparison with ours?

31°C outside and a cool 24°C indoors

The ambulance siren has been busy round here today. It's always a worry because this end of town is full of either young families or the Baby Boomer generation.
So many of the latter shuffle around on sticks or in buggies and this heat will be reducing the numbers, I have no doubt.
Babies are vulnerable too; too small to be able to regulate their own temperatures they often overheat and become very poorly, very quickly.
It's very quiet round here, no playing, no dogs. Everyone is inside and the area is becoming more like Europe in it's time keeping.
Yes, siesta time and I'll go out again once the sun begins its decent.
Have a great Bank holiday and stay safe.

This is the Southeastern train to Charing Cross

I love that announcement,  it means it's no longer university or work, it's going somewhere I have decided to visit.

Today I wanted to revisit a stall on Whitechapel Market. I love coming here, and enjoy the tastes of Indian street food and of course, the cheap clothes.
I buy from one man who buys in cloth and then employs some people here to make it. His fabrics are good quality, the workmanship excellent and of course, the prices are very fair.

So almost ready to take off again. Have my currency and all the clothes I'll need. So not much left to do than indulge in a guide book of Iceland and read its history and culture.
The book says, you go once and keep returning. Yes, I have a sneaking suspicion that's right.
Its Bank Holiday weekend and people seem to be going shopping mad again. Do they eat all they buy or does it end up in the bin? Oh, well, it's the way of a wasteful world; glad I'm not part of it.

Temperature rising, visibility excellent

If there is one thing I enjoy, its sitting in my garden watching the butterflies and other insects move from flower to flower. This year there has been a constant stream of bumble bees, honey bees and hover flies since the beginning of their season.

It's been great to watch and now I have two insect houses, almost full of solitary bee nurseries outside the kitchen door.

It has been an insect hive of activity and this warm weather is bringing them out. With a good mixture of old fashioned flowers and plenty of leaf protecting the soil from the heat, I haven't had to water anything all year which is pleasing. Natural nutrients from 3 well kept compost bins, keep the soil enriched, and a good sprinkling of chicken muck from one of the farms adds to the mix.
It's still quite early, so nestled on the middle tier of three, I'm enjoying coffee and the sun, ruminating on how the weather is chaging here and elsewhere.
I was listening to the World Service last night and my ears pricked when I heard a news feature from Iceland; not good news, they were laying a plaque to commemorate the loss of the first glacier. It had started retreating about 40 years ago and had now melted all the way back to it's source, a volcanic caldera. Sadly, the warming globe is warming Iceland too, and as I discovered, when I was there, with temperatures reaching 28°C.
As I sit here with a sun hat on, enjoying the hot sun taking hold of the day, I'm torn. I love the heat and the hot, balmy days. The prospect of London becoming the new Barcelona, in terms of climate, and Birmingham, the new Paris, I quite like the sound of. I love the Mediterranean and visit as often as I can. The rising temperatures her will save travel that's for sure.
But, what about places like Barcelona and Paris? What will they become? What will happen to the people there? Will they stay or become climate migrants?
Mm.

Later in that World Service programme I heard a report from Andalucia, andother part of Spain I adore, and was pleased to hear the farmer are slowly fighting back. With the onset of commercialisation of their farms, they have, like us, scrubbed up their field booundaries and hedgerows and opened the up their small fields into much larger ones, to make processing crops that more efficient. Like us, they have watched as the herbicides and pesticides have sterilised the soil to the point where it can so longer support life without intervention, and like us they are watching their precious soils being lost in the winds which come up off the seas.

A few farmers are taking things into tehir own hands and replanting hedgerows, growing none commercial crops to replenish the soils, natuarlly, and returning to a crop rotation which had worked well in the region for centuries. 

Living in the country I can already see evidence of this happening here too. Watching Countryfile, its obvious farmers have more than just Brexit to worry about, their very soil is dying and they know it.
A long time ago I wrote a line, it went,
"Mankind is a new dinosaur and like most dinosaurs, has a very small brain unable to control its tail."
I think our 'tail' is starting to sweep across the globe and yes, in the main, it does appear to be put of control.

 

The conveyor belts are running but nothing is being processed

Imagine a delivery and processing department. Now imagine many conveyor belts and robotic couriers collecting and distributing information to numerous, apparently vacant offices spread over many floors. Everything is running efficiently, gently purring away.
Now imagine a lone package.
It enters the hall and like expectant fathers, the robots and belts twitch with anticipation, will they be firing at full capacity once more? What is coming?
Imagine the sadness when the lone package, efficiently filed, is all there is.
Forgotten, the robots go back into standby mode once more.
This is how my brain feels now retirement has come and this is why it is so important we all, in retirement,  stay mentally active.
We have these efficiently operating brains which need to keep working.
And if we don't?
The dust, the decay, the lack of maintenance starts to take its toll on the robots. Updates are no longer made. Conveyors of information fall idle and lose their connections, failing to notice an old colleague has died and been replaced or their position left vacant.
Like any processing department,  once it's no longer in use, those who operated the various positions are made redundant, the departments are mothballed and the doors padlocked shut, and we know what happens to places like this don't we?

Found some more pictures

I took rather a few pictures and to be honest,even  surprised myself. Some of them weren't that brilliant but still hold memories, like ducks of some description on a fjord within touching distance but failed to come out because the sun reflected too strongly, a view of a dam as we passed on the Flam railways but it jolted so hard the image is not only sideways but blurred too.
So I've gone through and found some which made me smile when I saw them, hope they make you smile too.

At the edge of a beautiful fjord, there was a garden created initially by a priest and his wife. They wanted to show Icelandics could grow vegetables and not just rely on fish and lamb.

Considered to be one of the jewels of the north, this is the view of an entire town. Our coachload of people, swelled their number considerably. In the winter they are usually cut off and rely on winter stocks of meat and fish. Even electricity which is pretty cheap in Iceland has to have back up - just in case.

Inside the main Luteran church in Reykjavik there is a very large organ with over 300 pipes! The benches you can see are reversable so when a service is going on they can face the altar; a plain affair as in all Lutheran places.



When you turned round, to the left of the altar was this beautiful stained glass window.

Like most things in Iceland, none of it is very old, so this is probably less than 60 years? I'm not sure but the techniques are very modern. Most of the work has been created by using a charcoal to burnish the coloured glass giving it its depth.

This does make me laugh. We go from rugged 7.6 litres diesel engines in falared arch, big tyred, 4x4 to these. Love it.









So, there are a few more photographs. There are loads more I promise, but not now, let's get this up and then I can look for some more which reflect happy moments.

VISIBILITY POOR, RAIN, LIGHT BREEZE, Eidefjord

It was a really nice traverse up the fjord with clear skies and excellent visibility.
Bright and early I went for a walk and explored walking route number 2, colour coded blue. I get the impression none of them are very long, maybe a mile or two, but this one was rather cute, taking you from the small boats harbour, up and over the farmland to the old church. I must admit I did wonder where it was taking me but a quick look on Google maps and it started to make sense. Fortunately or I might have ended up further up the mountainside than anticipated! Well at least the gangway stays down until 17:30.

Main road out of Eidefjord

The views were far more spectacular once I was beneath the mountain sides and the sheer scale of erosion became clear.
The farming round here concentrates upon fruit, both soft and hard. I saw apple trees of two types, loganberries, raspberries and something else which I suspected were plums, but they were a but far away so wasn’t able to see them clearly enough.

This farm grew raspberries, apples, black currants

I went into the fiddle making museum and talked with the gentlemen who ran the place. Although he knew the master fiddle maker, he wasn’t allowed to learn from him for some reason, but when the master died, this man  kept the old workshop and all his tools, pattern and formers so we could see how these exquisite things were made.
The man himself was a craftsman and did quite a lot of turning himself. He had the wooden tree for a pack-saddle and under it a band of Viking knot work. The band was the size one would place round a barrel, so large.
Next came the old church which was solid wood, inside and out. There were simple brass chandeliers lighting the inside and the alter appeared to be simple. It appears the locals no longer use this one but have a new and probably warmer one just down in the village. It looked lovely but by the time I’d walked through the cemetery it began raining and then the rain became serious. I was wearing a puffa which although shower proof couldn’t hold out this level of wetness.

Like many others of us who had ventured out early, I headed back to the ship for a well earned warm up and dry out.
I’m sitting in the Market Place enjoying a coffee (which is probably cold by now) and looking out on very poor visibility.
I made the mistake of thinking I'd read a couple of chapters of my book whilst I waited for it to stop raining. Mm, well, it was a good book let's put it that way and the last few chapters gripped my attention to the end.
It was about 4pm before it stopped raining so taking the opportunity to get one last stroll out before cast off, I wandered quickly round the small park and up to their top road. I probably spent about an hour all told and got back to the ship and onboard undercover about 5 minutes before it was raining again.
I couldn't have timed it better if I tried. Now I'm sitting on deck 6 waiting for cast off and then travelling back down the fjord to our next port of call, 
Haugesund.

Does the belly walk the man or the man the belly?

I watched a man who seemingly quite slender from behind, waddled along the gangway. His arms unable to come down onto his sides and his legs walking round each other, he turned sideways to watch as we pulled off and his 11 month pregnancy revealed itself through the tightness of his sweatshirt.
He leaned over his protruberence and launched his arms toward the rail, his feet splayed outward to maintain an upright posture.
Is this what this world is reduced too? Gluttony on a mammoth scale? Burgers, fries, colas, sweets, sugars, sticky buns and the rest?
This man was in his mid thirties I presume. He had two small children. Was he teaching them the ways of the world.......through the eyes of obesity? Of course he was, and the two girls were learning; this is what men should look like.
I despair.

OVERCAST POSSIBLY A BIT CHILLY BUT NICE ENOUGH, BERGEN

I went, I looked, I came back. I did about two and a half miles and took some nice photos of the old part on my camera rather than the phone. Yes, shame I feel so crap today, but I genuinely do need to be quiet and just left alone. 

Central Square in Bergen Harbour

My left eye is not focusing well and the sinus on that side is very painful. The neck muscles feel like they’re tearing off the back of my skull so carrying much at all is difficult.
So, less of that, I will be glad to begin the treatment I gave paid for, I presume, and get these fat pounds off. By cleansing out too, bit should be able to stop this being so intense too.
So I went onto deck 13 for a while and took a few pics on the phone. They do show what Bergen is like and it does look interesting but no, not this time.
I didn't realise, however,  just how big Bergen was until we began to drop anchor. As we went past one of the warfs I suddenly saw another side of the city which was about equal in size to that we had berthed in.
It has houses which are literally on the waterfront too. I do wonder what will happen as the ice continues to recede. That is unless we have an ice age up here first. At the moment, the countries which are used to summer temperatures of 20°C or so are experiencing 28°C which, as most were saying, is rather too hot for them.

A quiet back street between the shops

Interestingly,  I was on a trip in Iceland and the lady was telling us they have found the remnants of Sequoa trees showing the habitat was probably a lot warmer in the past. So that and birch forests, it does make me realise just how little I know about the ecosystem of the north.
I have picked up my troll to take home and am now sitting on deck 11 watching the islands around the mouth to Bergen slip by.
Looking at the map I suspect we will stay pretty much within the archipelago, unless we have to go into deep space for "housekeeping".
The one thing which does please me is we are forced to process our own sewage, allowing only clean water back into the sea. The slurry is decanted at port which adds to the cost of berthing anywhere, it must do.

You are as rare as Unicorns

A gentleman I was chatting with, grinned and shook his head, "you're a breath of fresh air, you are. As rare as a unicorn, don't ever lose it, its wonderful and so refreshing."
I'm not used to such complimentary words but I took them gracefully.
"Thank you," I replied with obvious surprise in my voice, "somehow, after all these years of irreverence I can't see me changing." I laughed, but inside I was thinking how silent I had fallen, how the Monica Tension had sluffed off into her own world leaving the shell behind.
However, it got me thinking, if I'm considered a unicorn what are others?
If I remember rightly the unicorn was responsible for the magic in the world of make-believe and when the unicorn died so did the magic.
If that's the case, I wonder what magic dies with me?
My irreverent humour, the quips, the perspective on life which is, I must agree, not what one would call "usual". I'm being generous here, more would use the terms odd, weird, crazy, sick and just down right *@#!*.
I view the world differently from those around, yes, but that just makes my voice more unique.....doesn't it?
Ok, I thought, you want my view on the world to come out? Not allow the magic to die? Ok, let the magic begin and let Monica and I come together.
Anarchist? No, I leave that to Ems. Revolutionary? No, that's for the young who have the energy to change the world. Reactionary? No, I certainly don't bother reacting to petty ignorance, no, I view the world through the eyes of someone who really has lived it all before, more a visionary who's waiting for some pillock to press down the little whooshie finger (as in Kung Fu Panda) and make the whole world go dooosh.

EARLY MORNING BRIGHT BUT NOT SO WIDE AWAKE, FLÅM

Well, a 6.45 am start is not the very best, especially when I’d been awake from 03:15, and too awake to doze off very quickly.
The work Dr Edouard has done has certainly helped the hip and knee but as usual I am very bunged up and my neck hurts a great deal. I’m hoping it will settle down fairly quickly and all I can do until then is keep taking the tablets!
The BMI/BFI was interesting. Although my BMI is within comfortable limits, as is my weight,  the body fat percentage is way too high. I'm one of those people, skinny/fat, I hold it all on the inside. Ouch.
At the moment its reading 40% which is the highest it’s been. I’ve no idea why this has suddenly happened but I am going to take the offer of supplement and mineral support to work through this once and for all.
I was very surprised to see my lean muscle mass is excellent so where this blubber layer has come from.......
He’s  suggested I aim at the body fat percentage rather than the weight and get that to as near 18% as possible. Now that’s at the lower end of the range but I’ll have a go.
So, today, or rather this morning, bright and early.
Well today is the Flåm railway trip and I think, because there were so many of us, they booked us on the first train out, hence the ludicrous start time.
We travelled only part of the entire route but what we covered was spectacular.  It was great to be on a train and I thoroughly enjoyed the concept of climbing up the steps to get on board, to have slam doors and to pull down the windows to let in the air. Really was reminiscent of times long ago when steam pulled the wagons instead of the electric today. 

It was beautiful up there and listening to the birds through the silence of the mountains was delightful.
A woman was singing lower down the mountain. There’s  an old story which says a woman sings to the weary traveller and lures them to their death. So many stories of sirens, both on land and in water doing this.
When we got back the temperature had risen somewhat so I went straight to the cabin and changed.
It was hot even by 11am and the locals were saying how hot this year had been. Mm. A worry.
But......it did mean one thing, after the requisite cup of tea...a paddle in the fjord. The water was cold but ooh, it was nice to pull my feet through the crystal clear water.
That entailed sitting on the beach and it also entailed sunbathing.
Lovely.
I can’t get over just how clean everywhere is. People still collect all litter! They leave no traces! Wonderful.
And children are just that, children, and encouraged to be just that, children. 

I could sense my neck was going to start playing up. This was the day after quite an intense treatment and although I know it has worked for my pelvis and hip, my neck is complaining bitterly. Tomorrow will be worse and I’m not looking forward to it.
Fortunately the trip tomorrow has been cancelled so I can if I want to, or not if I feel crook.

Slowly, I find the pictures......

The problem with taking a camera and a phone in this day and age is I end up relying on the phone quite a lot and forget to utilise the effects my camera can create. So, when I found all the photos and put them on the hard drive I was shocked to see I had taken well in excess of 400. I think that tells me I must have enjoyed the cruise even if I felt crap for a few of the days.

OK, so what's here? Just a few to flutter up and bring back memories. I tend to be a walker so the sights I see are probably quite close to the hotel or ship. But that doesn't make them any the less interesting, to me, anyway. Very often they are views missed by those too quick to go on trips and not to look around at what is there.

Whilst out walking in Akureyri itself I came across these two. Standing about 7 to 8 feet tall, they stood outside a tourist type shop that also doubled as a cafe from what I remember.
Very much how my friends and I feel on one of our bad days.







This one is a poster inside the bookshop in  small place called Flateyri. During the winter when the snows come down and the temperatures drop, most people either read or write books. Talking with the person who ran the bookstore, he told me that after about September people are in and out buying Christmas presents of the latest books. Let's face it, there isn't much to do except make babies and read during those dark days....and yes, many babies are born in the Spring.

One of the trips I did do whilst in Iceland was to visit the renouned Godafoss Falls. We were very lucky with the weather as it started to close in after we left and the stormforce winds began. The waters are that colour because there had been rain and ice melt up in the mountains.

As you can see here, although there was a well defined and edged viewing platform, it was easy to get round the edge of it and stand as close to the falls as you liked. I didn't like to go any further forward and if anyone had fallen in, then they would have been on their own! I was not going to do the swimmers jump and heroic capture.
One thing I would have loved to do was go on a boat towards the falls, like you can do at Niagra. If that had been possible yes we would have been soaked but exhillarated.

I cannot remember where we were, but I can see it clearly in my mind. So clearly in fact I can picture in my mind where I went for a paddle. And before you ask, no, it wasn't that cold at all. Bit like the North Sea to be honest. Anyway, I just loved the view. I was standing at the waterline in what was probably an older part of the port itself. Hang on let me think, we should have tendered here but he managed to dock, all be it at a gentle list....Isafjord!

Mm, had to include this; a view of my cabin. I was on deck 4, the lowest of the peopled decks as it were, beneath was the engine bay, various workshops and loads more. Pretty much directly under me was the gangway on and off.
Evrything was great until we hit a  little turbulence and then something beneath us started to clang like a bell. The vibration through my bed was quite something and ear plugs were a must. It wasn't only me who was driven mad by this, I think everyone on my side of the ship on deck 4, 5 and possibly 6 would have suffered. Can you imagine what it was like when we hit gale-force winds and high seas? Yes, interesting.

Would I go again? Watch me! I got off the train back in my home town and walked straight into the travel agents. Oh, yes, I'm off again!! And soon, but that would be telling..

Teaching by example to be addicts.

Took me a while but I found a really peaceful spot on the ship which I suspected would be one place children would not go.
I was wrong.
A mother and her young child of about six or seven, came out so mother could have a fix.
I don't say, smoke a cigarette even though I use to myself, but I was aware, even then, I had a problem.
I was an addict.
I looked at this young woman as she puffed frantically at the cigarette. It was clear the child had been brought because she couldn't be left on her own anywhere and mother drew in her breath through the stick as fast and as hard as she could. It must have burned hot!
The child stood there watching her mother, learning what it was to be a grown up and played absentmindedly whilst she waited. It was clear by the way she played, this was a common occurrence and she stood patiently waiting to get back to what she was doing.
It was at that moment something dawned on me. Is there much difference between nicotine addiction and heroine addiction?
Yes, yes, yes, the terms seem incongruous but  just stop a moment and think about the surface issues here.
Both require frequent top ups and the longer someone takes the substances, the more they require, and more frequently.
Both are now seen as addictions.
Both cost a lot of money to maintain and will come before food quite often, but can come before rent, bills or just staying out of debt.
Do both create a state of homelessness? Not really.
Do both render the person incapable of work? If you think about it, yes, it's just nicotine is still seen as more acceptable, like alcohol addiction. But why?
The costs to our health service is phenomenal when you think of the illnesses associate with them. The future both offer to their subjects is bleak. The financial costs are the least of their problems.
I sat and watched this mother teaching her daughter how to be a grown up woman in their values set and shook my head. In this day and age with all the information out there, why do people still teach smoking by example?
More's to the point, do they even realise?
They are teaching by example to be addicts.

You look like a friendly person......

If I dislike one group of people, it's those you see in town centres who accost you as you walk through the town.
I have returned from my trip blessed with a sore throat, wobbly legs and a shortened temper, so walking through the High Street I was not ready for the first accosting; Alzheimer's Society.
Within a whiff of me walking along, the first of the two colleagues pounced. Having said no thank you, I walked on......the second one got me! Again I rejected the false words of caring and interest in my well being and moved on.
My throat, sore, my voice, imperfect, I did my shopping and taking a slightly different route so as to avoid them a second time, I walked slap bang into three of these praying mantis like individuals peddling some other charity. Would you believe I was accosted by all three! 😡
Please, don't get me wrong, I support charities and any money left when I peg it all goes to a chosen eight. I am organised. I support several now, monthly. I am not opposed to supporting good causes, but to get these happy, smiley people attempting to get a name, address, email and bank details really...........
Ironically, the only group not forcefully peddling their wares were one of those church groups you often see in towns, selling their views on society.
I came home and sat down.
Even on a good day those charity pushers have got short shrift........ unless I felt awkward of course and enquired what they were peddling and why? Do enjoy a bit of 'bear'- baiting now and then.

A Quiet Place

I'm off on my travels and called in at Kirkwall in the Orkney Islands.
Not that far off the northern most point of Scotland,  Kirkwall is becoming a hub for passenger lines and travellers. The town is filled with tourist shops all plying their cottage trade and houses are turned into bed and breakfasts, short stay lets, and the grand hotels.
Its a mix of old and new and as the older generations die off, homes are being restored to a new modern with thick triple glazing, wide panoramic vista windows, mezzanine bedrooms and fully fitted kitchens.
It's a hub of activity and yet........quietude.
It reminded me of an island in the Canaries called La Gomera. It is, what it is, with no airs or graces. It's a small community, eeking a living out of an inhospitable island that offers little respite from hard labour. But everyone knows everyone and everyone looks out for everyone. A close community with a thriving Sea Rescue and Lifeboat station. A community which is fighting for every penny it can glean from those, like me, who come to admire and stand in wonder at such a peaceful spot.

My unhealthy generation

If one set of lyrics has stuck in my head from my youth it's The Who, My Generation.
Several reasons, but one of the strongest was the line,
"hope I die before I get old"
Yes, to me, that was the key, to party this life and enjoy every minute because at some point I would start to 'feel old' both physically and (to me more importantly) mentally and when that happened it was time to turn in my chip.
Travelling from Iceland to Norway I am being given ample time to study 'my generation' and I hardly recognise them.
Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a generation of rebellious teenagers who burst onto the world, pushing aside the flower power pacemakers. We were out to change the world and stomp on everything that went before.
We were rebelling against the constraints imposed by a near Victorian society where holding hands or kissing in public was met with disapproval.
We were rebelling against a world that saw a difference in black and white, subjugating one beneath the other.
We we rebelling against a society where women were objects to be handled like ripening fruit in a supermarket. Where we were expected to marry, have children and stop our childish ambitions to concentrate on our true profession,  being a wife and mother.
Work was to be left to the men folk, who brought in the money to 'keep' their family.
NO! This was our generation and we were going to bring in new order.
And, many would say, we did. We marched for equal rights, rioted for union rights, had running street battles with racists.....
This was our generation.
Rebelling in our attitudes and dress, we brought in a new level of equality, of egalitarianism and liberalism which allowed the individual to be an equal human being, not ranked by class, colour, sex or creed.
And now?
The cock sure way we approached society and created change, has transcended into our eating habits, our exercise habits, our lifestyles and what have we been reduced to?
Mobility scooters, walking frames, shortness of breath, diabetes, heart disease, obesity.........worst of all in my mind, a reversion into our mothers! Heaven help us.
Narrow minded, bigoted, racist (?), an inflexibility towards change. The very things we fought so hard to eradicate we appear to be creating.
We cannot or will not accept the new generation making changes in the way we did. In fighting for equal pay (good luck), acceptance of transgenders, lady boys, gay marriage,  fair wage and all the social issues we failed to grapple.
No, as the song so rightly said,
"hope I die before I get old"

GALE FORCE TO STORM FORCE TO MIRROR CALM: two days at sea

So, could I go across the Atlantic by ship? I don’t think so, I would go stir crazy 🤯.
I have learned a few things though. For one, the word posh comes from those people travelling to and fro the far east on the old sailing ships. It stands for Portside out Shipside back, those being the cooler sides of the ship to travel on.
I’m getting a toxicity check up later today and hopefully get some advice tailored to me. That’s at 6pm but before that I’ve just had a session with Dr Edouard, the acupuncturist/osteopath. It was an excellent treatment and well worth £97. Just wish I could get more sessions like that back in UK.
The toxicity test is from the Wellness Specialist. He was a former runner and has now turned coach and advisor. Blimey, for us lot? Most are decrepit or rapidly reaching it. I’m not saying mine will be great but......
So the two days have been interesting in so far as my immediate health concerns and some information about the Atlantic itself from the guest speaker who came to educate us. He is very good although I missed his two talks today as I was at a seminar about health and longevity.
Gleaned some other information from there. Kelp dried and added to water is a good way to give the skin and hence the body an access to collagen. So too is the red seaweed found on seashore. Will explore that when I get home.

We passed the Faroes in the early hours and I was hooked up to them. Unfortunately it was the maritime connection and it cost rather a lot!!

Now it’s time to enjoy a cuppa and a relax. That session has taken it out of me so I will give myself time to recover.

FROM STORM FORCE GALES TO VISIBILITY GOOD, SEA CALM, REYKJAVIK

Its 04:30 and I am sitting looking out over a calm sea. Visibility is as good as it gets and the sun looks as though it’s been floating around the corner for some hours now. There is a possibility of another warm day to come.
Still no internet connection, and I’m now wondering if I have disturbed the connection through EE. If I have then I’ll have to wait til I’m home to sort it. That’s attempting to make a connection to the ship’s WIFI, it’ll teach me!!
Anyway, this morning many trips left early so the Market Place was heaving by 07:10. Hadn’t realised and hoped to get there before the rush.
Wrong. OH, so very wrong!
Out today on a short tour of Reykjavik and quick stop offs at a few highlights.
The first was the Perlan or in English, The Pearl. We had tickets to go to the top 360° viewing gallery at the top and it showed the whole of Reykjavik. It’s huge!
But green.
Was pleasantly surprised by this. 

It appears Iceland was heavily forested with birch trees. These grew to about 15 feet tall and were self coppiced allowing them to survive the winds and snow by remaining lignin low and very subtle.
Sadly the early farmers cleared most of it very quickly using it for heating, cooking and building, although none were thick enough to make wooden houses as we imagine.
Next stop after a quick tour through the university district was the church of Reykjavik itself, Hallgríms Church.
Built in darker concrete, the shape (a stepping column concept coming off the church-building like flying buttresses) was meant to emulate the eruption of lava from a volcano.
Inside, apart from a very ostentatious organ containing over 5000 pipes, were steep vaultings and plain walls. This is a Lutheran church, so ormentation is not used.
There was one piece of glass and that was on the left hand side of the altar in a recess. It was very beautifully worked using etching techniques I’ve seen recently.
Apart from two gold icons, one each side of the altar, that was the sum total of anything.
From here we toured the Old Quarter and then onto the bankers area. Mm, a site of major recession but from all accounts, they have prospered since.
We had one more stop at a wooden building where, it seems Reagan and Gorbachev met to make an agreement on nuclear arms.
They were almost there but America's Star Wars Project was the stumbling block and in the end, was the cause of nuclear disarmament peace plan to collapse.

One other thing I did there, I touched a piece of the Berlin Wall. Yep, Iceland was affected by the Cold War and the Iron Curtain so they had a piece erected on the harbour side of the capital. Amazing.
So, now I’m back on the ship sitting on deck 12, enjoying the sunshine, which would be very hot if it wasn’t for a cold breeze blowing by.
I’m overlooking somewhere I would love to visit, Viđley Island. 

I went back off the ship to pick up a brochure and connected to the WIFI they were all using.
What pleased me is I’ve not lost that and can connect up when in port.
So, the weather. Yes, bright sunshine with detectable burning potential. It may read 15° C but it feels much warmer.
I'm about to scan the brochure on Viđay and enjoy a lemon tea, so please excuse me....

HOT AND SUNNY WITH A MODERATE BREEZE, ISAFJORD

First stop was a tour to the fjords local to here and the oldest botanical garden on the island. Yes, I fell in love with this part of Iceland as we travelled up the fjord. It has a raw beauty which is beyond my expectations and touched my soul.
Yes, I could live here.

The journey began by passing through the mountain along a single lane tunnel with passing places. About 6 km long it was quite a ride, but the coming out the other side was simply breath-taking.
Opening out to a vista of wide fjord and distant houses, the whole image reminded me of a picture postcard, airbrushed to give it that awe. The difference here was, no air brushing could improve upon the magical qualities.
As we passed the fjord the seabirds took to the air screeching and crying out their frustrations at being disturbed.
Our first stop was the oldest bookshop on the island. It had its ledgers going back to its opening and all of them were opened, lining the wall on our left. Photographs taken by the present owner filled the vacant walls and books littered all the available spaces.

Wintertime is reading time, and Icelandic people are voracious in their appetite for books.
New ones get snapped up, whilst old one disappear as fast as the arrive. Books are coveted commodities here.
The stories of trolls abound and all children are warned of the 13 trolls who come visiting before Christmas to cause mischief. If they’ve been bad they get a potato in their stocking to remind them to behave. 

From there we went to the local café and enjoyed a delicious coffee and snack. Sadly, based around rye/wheat bread mix, it was not for my digestion but I did enjoy the coffee.
Last stop in this pretty place was the Lutheran church for three songs from a sixteen year old lad who brimmed confidence and skill. Very impressive singing and playing of both the piano an guitar. A talented young man.
It was after that we drove onto the garden, created by a priest and his wife. They showed it was possible to grow vegetables in the local soil, it just required care.
Now a part of the education system, the gardens are maintained by pupils and locals and has become quite a tourist destination.
The trip may only have been three and a bit hours but we saw and enjoyed a great deal in that time. I was glad to get back however and after a quick lunch, took off for a stroll around a bit of the town.
I’ll be back come September so I know where I want to head off and just walk. There are birds to view and bits of fjord to sit on.
I did paddle! It wasn’t that cold either which surprised me.  About the same as off Hastings beach, I stood and surveyed the black sands between the pebbles.

With arctic terms circling overhead and gulls showl diving just off the shore, I could have been in an Attenborough programme.
I wandered back to the ship and allowed my aches to collapse.
I went and had something to eat and the came up to the sun deck.
It’s nearly half five and the sun is still pretty high in the sky.
A truly wonderful day.
The capital, Reykjavik tomorrow and one more short trip before two days at sea.