Coast: Cabo de Gata

It was a drizzly afternoon in April, Manchester UK and I was dreaming of sitting on a beach in the sunshine. I was not looking for a coastal resort, what I had in mind was more like the start of Prince Caspian, but without the flight to New Zealand. The Cabo de Gata has this in bucket-loads. I only spent two afternoons at the seaside but I enjoyed both dips in the Alborean sea.

(The set for Prince Caspian, filmed in New Zealand)

The first day my host drove us from Níjar to San Miguel which took the best part of an hour. The drive took us through the rather unsightly, but highly productive 'plastics' in the region which produce all sorts of vegetables including a black tomato. Emerging from the plastics, we saw the protected salt-marshes and their flamingos which weren't looking particularly pink but they did look happy.

(San Miguel)

As it was a public holiday we weren't really sure if anywhere would be open but we headed for the Torreón de San Miguel and found a little chiringuito (tapas bar) at the beach. There is such a delight in the directness of eating fresh seafood beside the same sea it was fished from. The beach was quite busy at San Miguel but I enjoyed watching people going about their Bank Holiday activities. One of group of young men were going on a fishing trip with their dad. The fishing boat was rolled down to the sea on wooden logs, in Viking-style, don't fix what ain't broke I suppose!

On my second trip to the seaside we went in the opposite direction to Agua Amarga. A small diversion from the route took us to see this olive tree; it was producing olives in 1066 and still produces olives today. It felt almost holy to be in the presence of a tree that has seen so much and still stands fruitful - I think there's a sermon in there! In classic Spanish style there is little ceremony made about this tree just a little plaque.

(The ancient olive tree)

Agua Amarga means Bitter Water and there is a local joke that its not just the water that's bitter...I found it was a perfectly nice beach to spend an hour or two, I felt very safe, the water was clear but there were British tourists everywhere.

(Agua Amarga) 

When I first booked a trip to the Cabo I was thinking of rustic unspoiled coves, where you felt completely alone, where you'd spend the day reading, swimming, napping and eating sandy sandwiches. I believe this is still possible at the Cabo de Gata; but I think you really do need your own transport. I was reliant on my kind and accommodating host but was limited by the time he was willing to spend. Without him I'd have been reliant on buses which do go to and fro from the city of Almería but not via the villages and even then only a couple of times a day. As with several elements of this trip on balance a hire car would have been a good idea; but I still enjoyed the coast.

Adventure, Anxiety and Andalucia : all begin with A

Last Autumn I was looking for a little Autumn sun; so I googled unspoiled beaches and decided to  take one of my biggest adventures yet - exploring the Cabo de Gata coast, the Sierra Alhamilla and Tabernas Desert in a mere 6 days.

(Cabo de Gata coast)

(Driving across the Sierra Alhamilla)

It was a big adventure for me because I was going somewhere rural - although you might not have guessed this from the package holiday airlines that served Almería - I was on my own, and going to a place in the shadow of a volcano. My base for the week was the village of Níjar - a historic hill village with early medieval water systems, Moorish watch towers, and distant views of the coastline, the house I stayed in built into caves that people have lived in since the Neolithic!

(Ancient landscaping)

The village is culturally renowned for rag-rugs and special pottery. The high street shopping model has not changed much since the medieval period - artists have their shop in the 'living room' area at the front of the house, and then they live behind and above the shop. I was visiting one of these potters, drinking coffee and chatting away when we came to talking about anxiety and stress. She said I was very brave to travel on my own, that she is too anxious to travel. I get anxious and worried about a lot of things but I don't let it stop me travelling; I said, 'if I can get anxious just sat at home I'd rather see the world and have something real to worry about'.

(Unique ceramic from Níjar)

These are famous last words because my week exploring the Almería region was quite eventful and I did have plenty of real worries to contend with whilst exploring this area of incredible beauty. This short series of blog posts will explore the coast, the country and the city in the Almería region.

Fight fire with satire: Wipers Times and Savage Ink

In the run up to Remembrance Day I have been to the theatre and the People's History Museum. Both the play and the exhibition look at the role of satire in helping us face scary circumstances and to speak truth to power.

Wipers Times - Theatre Show

The Wipers Times was a newspaper created by Captain Fred Roberts and his battalion during the First World War produced in the trenches themselves. The 12th Battalion Sherwood Foresters faced some very serious scenes they were present at Ypres and the Somme with Captain Fred decorated with the military cross for bravery.  They were under no illusions about the awful nature of war, 'Most of us have been cured of any little illusions we may have had about the pomp and glory of war, and know it for the vilest disaster that can befall mankind'. This is echoed in their humour, one ad read, ‘Are you a victim to optimism?...do you sometimes think the war will end within the next twelve months?...do you consider or leaders are competent?'.

Copyright: The Wipers Times

There are many responses to war - fear it, glamorize it, or satirize it. Drawing on the traditions of both music hall - Hind and berg: sword swallowers and nail eaters at the Cloth Hall - 'the best ventilated hall in the town' (it was a ruin); and high-literature (Kipling, Shakespeare, Arthur Conan Doyle) they punned their way to hope right in the midst of battle.  They played close to the wire when it came to respected war correspondents both Hilaire Belloc and Beach Thomas's names are spoonerised and spoof articles written to illustrate just how far from reality their articles had departed. The bureaucrats of the war machine also do not get off lightly - Roberts took their regular request to 'up the offensive' as a rallying cry for the paper, 'Are we as offensive as we might be?'.

The stage show written by Ian Hislop and Nick Newman did a good job of translating a newspaper into a stage show; the show tunes and adverts translate particularly well. They also added extra context showing the war leaders, people at home and the impact of war on the veterans future careers all of which I thought was helpful. Although it was an entertaining show it was also a 'thinker'. I was very moved by the performance of 'To My Chum' a poem which featured in the print version of Wipers Times from the pen of a private in the trenches, reproduced in part here:

Confessions of an alcohol slave advert. Copyright: The Wipers Times

 'We’ve shared what shelter could be had
The same crump hole
when the whizz-bangs shrieked;
The same old billet that always leaked,
 And now – you’ve stopped one.'

It is precise, concise poetry that cuts to the heart of a man grieving his friend.





To face fear head on and to laugh seems such an appropriate response, and the show a great way to remember in all its complexity.

Savage Ink - A temporary exhibition at PHM

The Savage Ink exhibition illustrates the rich tradition that Wipers Times drew on; showcasing satirical cartoons from the 18th century onward including several works by Hogarth, Gillray and Fluck drawing right up to the present day cartoons criticising the Labour cabinet views on Trident.

Gillray, Substitutes for Bread

One of the most interesting cartoons is Gillray's, 'Substitutes for Bread' (1795) which shows Pitt, his Chancellor Loughborough and other ministers tucking into many lavish substitutes for bread; venison, turtle soup, champagne whilst the people outside starve. In 1795 the UK was at war with France and was running out of both money and commodities. The Board of Agriculture sent out pamphlets suggesting people substitute their expensive tastes for white bread with mixed grain loaves and eat more meat and fish instead, in a bid to help the war effort. This is all rather akin to Marie Antoinette's, 'Qu'ils mangent de la brioche' and the unrealistic expectations of those in power on those living with the reality of their decisions.

It seems if you had money in 1795 you could enjoy pretty much anything you liked, and the poor paid the price for war; nothing changes does it.

This remembrance day I pray, with Captain Fred and Gillray, never again.

5 surprising things about America

This year I went on a springtime trip to California; my first ever trip to the USA here are my top five surprising things.

(It is so bright here!)

1. No kettles, anywhere! 
I suppose given the events of 1773 it is not as much of a surprise but people don't own kettles, electric or hob based! If you want a cup of tea you've to risk an urn, or a pod-machine (!), or scalding yourself boiling water in a saucepan all in a bid for a cup of tea.

2. People still sign 'the check'
This blew my mind, people always say that America is the future but this felt like stepping in a time machine to the 90's! Chip and pin in the UK is frustrating (in comparison to contactless) but can you imagine signing every receipt? I can just about remember supermarket shopping with my Mum where she used to sign for our shopping but as an adult on my own account, nope. Also calculating tax, in the UK tax is almost always included in the price (unless you're buying wholesale or something). But trying to calculate what the final price would be for even small items was a real headache. A perk though is that sometimes people in the shops still expect to pack your shopping, another thing I can only just about remember from childhood.

(Shopping for spices and target preparing for St Patricks Day)

3. Bikes on the front of buses
I was quietly minding my own business (getting over the sweet/savoury thing, see below) in Berkeley when a Greyhound bus passed the window. Lo and behold! The bus had someone's bike on the front! Instead of trying to fit the push-bike in the hold or in the cabin space of the bus they just stick it on the front. This is actually quite an ingenious idea, but I'd never even thought of it before.

4. Icing sugar and bacon on the same plate; and no-one is bothered.
I knew before I went that there was a bit of a laissez-faire attitude towards sweet and savoury on a plate over the pond. Even a neanderthal like me has experienced pancakes with bacon and maple syrup and been won round to a little sweetness. I had, however, understimated the extent of the combination. One morning my friend had a fry up; to all intents and purposes it was a full English breakfast, except it came with toast coated in icing sugar - and no-one was suprised or bothered by that except me.

(Look at the icing sugar on that!)

5. Windscreen cleaners at petrol stations
I was reminded of this when Mayim Bialik did a video in May (3:53); in California. at least. one of the things people do in petrol stations is clean their windows using wiper blades which are offered free of charge. It just threw me a little.

There were of course many other things people had told me that I didn't think could be true - like even fruit and veg is giant sized there, and how no-one walks anywhere; and how in a shorter distance than London to Durham I could go from 25 degree heat to treading through snow overnight. These were just the 5 unexpected things.

DUNKIRK: A review

I recognise I'm pretty late to this party but last week I saw Dunkirk and regardless of anything else it was a lesson in cinematography.

WARNING: MANY SPOILERS

I'll admit I was affected by location and circumstance. The day before I had made that same journey, to Dunkirk and then on to Paris with my 10 year old godson, albeit we went under, not over the ocean. Travelling on the metro we saw signs for the film with its French spelling (Dunkerque) and I thought about how a French director or screenwriter might have written a slightly different film.

I went to see the film when I was staying with my parents, at a budget friendly, no frills cinema on Canvey Island. Driving to and from the cinema I drove along that same coastline that had sent the little fishing boats from Leigh on Sea to their heroic adventure; the story of the Dunkirk flotilla is written into our local story. Both the French and Essex experiences helped a long-distant event feel very present to me.

And that's to say nothing of the cinematography. There are some political aspects to this film which I will come around to, but first I want to tell you about the incredible creativity that was poured out on this highly stylised film quite so effectively.

Blue and Grey

Colour and musical tone were used to great effect. Everything was different shades of blue and grey for a long time; despair was played out in monochrome monotony - the sea and sky became indistinguishable at the horizon and I really believed like the men at sea that maybe help was never coming. This was echoed in Hans Zimmer's score - all minor chords and constant suspense. Christopher Nolan is well known for his use of the Shepard tone - its a corkscrew effect that makes you feel as if the music is constantly climbing and it sets your teeth on edge - he uses it to good effect in this film.

But when the fleet of ships arrive all of this changes the little boat is full of colour - the sailor's jumper, the hull of the boat, the women on the other ships - warm reds and oranges explode onto the screen in this triumph of hope. This glory is reflected in the music which changes to major and we get this brief reprieve from the Shepard Tone. This is epitomised in the final flight of Farrier to Elgar's Nimrod - all major chords and full colour; hope for the soldiers and for us.

Our glorious past?

Whilst the majority of the film feels hopeless and disastrous and not at all glamorous I would define it as a patriotic film. Through thoroughly limited dialogue a large emphasis is put on the role of 'home', and putting Churchill's words into the mouth of an ordinary soldier was very effective at underlining the sacrifice of 'the few'. It did make every body out to be heroes - Nolan shows some awareness of this in the heroic write up of George, killed by his own side but declared a war hero in the paper, but the rest of the film argues against this. Commander Bolton chooses to 'wait for the French' at the end of the film instead of getting the boat home, he chooses certain death; although Dad pointed out to me this is a charming nod to the 50's films I felt it was a bit dramatic.

The issue I take with this film is the effect it had on me, I left the cinema thinking, 'you know what we need? A jolly good war!'. And that scares me because I am by nature a fairly peaceful soul; somebody more prone to conflict would be easily fired up by the narrative.

Like any story you do have to simplify the facts for the sake of a good story, but I agree with Sharmal that there was significant white-washing in this film - and the featured token person of colour was tokenism exemplified. Although the stance taken by Nolan on this was inline with the narrative we are told in schools there was a real opportunity here to tell less known stories; it is a shame that opportunity was missed.

In summary this is a powerful piece of cinema, expertly composed, that will rightly win many awards; entertainment does not always have to be educational - and it certainly was an education in cinematography - but I do wish we had been told a story of somebody new that recognised the complexity of war, rather than glorification of the armed forces.

Middle-class, middle-aged bank holidays: Renishaw Hall and Derbyshire

Well folks its true, being suspiciously close to being both middle-class and middle-age I spent my last Bank Holiday in the only way I know how: visiting a country pile!

Edith Sidwell's birthplace
Renishaw Hall was built in 1625 and is still a family home today. Some of its most famous inhabitants were the Sitwell trio - Edith, Sacheverell and Osbert - they grew up there in the late 19th century. They were an eccentric bunch but they helped to cultivate lots of famous artists you may have heard of; Dylan Thomas, Aldous Huxley, and William Walton. You can see the remnants of these relationships in their special museum; in an excerpt from one of Walton's letters the handwriting looks rather like my Dad's!

The house itself is still a family home and only open on Fridays during the Summer season. This is no problem though if the weather is good as the courtyard and museum are open and so are the incredible gardens. We saw a meadow rammed with bluebells, a rose-covered walkway and lots of tulips in the walled gardens. Private houses are better than National Trust properties in that they offer you that extra layer of liberty; there was very little signage to moderate and interfere with your experience of the property especially around the lake. We spent at least 3 hours here just enjoying the gardens and surrounding area, thoroughly recommend.

Bakewell (tarts and puddings)
A fortnight ago my sister and I spent the afternoon in Bakewell. The town lent its name to the famous tart which today is presented coated in icing and a glacé cherry on top. I, however, am always looking for the most authentic experience possible and so we sought out an original bakewell pudding. There are at least three wooden-beamed establishments selling this Victorian dish; we decided to purchase a small pudding to share (top left) and two more modern tart slices (middle right) - but not with icing or a cherry on the top. As you might expect the pudding is a more dense dessert and the almonds were chopped more roughly than its contemporary equivalent but both tasted pretty good.

Looking beyond the puddings, if possible, Bakewell is a small town of some beauty with local cheeses and a farm store. It also plenty of big brand stores you'd expect in a national park: Boots, Fatface etc. and we found a great cafe attached to a book shop; tea and new books, my favourite!

Tideswell: Cathedral in the Peak
When driving along the A623 I kept seeing signs for 'Tideswell and Cathedral in the Peak'. So, on the way home from Matlock and with a spare half an hour, I turned left to explore the little Derbyshire village. A medieval market town famous for lead mining, Tideswell is now home to about 2000 people. The church of St John the Baptist is at the centre of the village, it is a grade 1 listed building but is not technically a Cathedral. The church is ancient and was a dissenting parish in the thirteenth century. The pew ends and misericords have been carved with some interesting carvings some depicting baptism and confirmation, and this lady doing the monster mash!

Why not explore Derbyshire this May Bank Holiday? It has so much to offer!

My adopted city

The people of my adopted city are made of sterner stuff

There is coal within their bones

I think it got there during years of outdoor PE in the rain

That sort of stuff makes you tough

You can laugh at southerners in coats on nights out in January; you’re made of sterner stuff.

The people of my adopted city have tea within their veins.

‘Would you like a brew?’ passes for ‘how are you?’

And its rude to say, no you don’t like hot drinks…

And there’s little that can’t be fixed with a cup of tea and a listening ear.

The people of my adopted city know there is muscle in unity.

Whether you’re United or City; humanist or theist,

If you live on its streets you are family, you are welcome.

You are already in community.

My adopted city of coal, tea and unity

Took a hit yesterday to our most vulnerable spot

It would be easy to retreat to our trenches and forget our coal, tea and unity...

Thankfully Mancunians are made of sterner stuff.