The People's March

London, 23 March 2019. Photo credit: Vajrapriya Moss

We live in extraordinary times.

There have been a few notable moments during my lifetime that stick in my mind, the same way that people older than me say that they remember where they were when they heard that Kennedy had been shot.

• When Princess Diana died. I was living in West Didsbury, Manchester, and a good friend was staying who was utterly unmoved by the event. I'm not an ardent royalist, but I felt so sad for her sons - what they had already gone through and what they were about to suffer. Yes, they have money and privilege, but they didn't ask for the job and the costs are higher than I would ever be prepared to pay.
• September 11, 2001. I landed at an airport in Scotland where I was going to be speaking at a conference, and the taxi driver told me that something terrible was happening. All afternoon I watched what little footage there was at that time showing on a loop on the TV in my hotel room.
• When I heard the result of the Brexit referendum. I was listening to the radio in the morning before I got up, and I actually felt sick.

So here we are. Prime Minister David Cameron misjudged the electorate and arranged the most damaging protest vote in the history of this country, then ran for cover and hasn't been seen since. I still hold grudges against Margaret Thatcher for her cold hearted 'Greed is Good' approach in the 1980s and against Tony Blair for his behaviour in the Gulf War (that infamous Dossier), but those two have paled into insignificance compared with the evil that Cameron has unleashed on this country.

Three years on it continues to divide communities, families, political parties, businesses. Our politicians have been exposed for what they are, and maybe have always been - I am not naive enough to think that politics is about what is best for the country or its people in the short term. And nobody will ever please all of the people all of the time. But the hypocrisy, the contempt for truth, the dishonesty, the immorality! We rely on our elected Members of Parliament to work for us, to come up with a way to lead the country, and many have shown themselves to be utterly deficient.

On Saturday we marched. Actually, we stood around for more than two hours, then we walked very, very slowly for another three. Six hours for me in all, because coming from out of town I arrived an hour earlier than the official start. I met two other friends through the magic of Google Maps 'share location', and another friend joined us whom I hadn't seen for more than thirty years. We had lots of time to catch up on news. Lola II and Mr M also found us, Lola II appearing as if onto a stage through the curtain of a large flag that another marcher was carrying. There were stickers, placards, banners, whistles, flags, T-shirts and berets all variously decorated with the EU blue and yellow star colour scheme. There were lots of variations on the theme song titles using 'EU' instead of 'you': "I can't live if living is without EU", "Never going to give EU up" and many more. There was singing, chanting slogans, a few bands along the route and a couple of bands actually marching. My favourite banner just said "Even Baldrick had a plan."

I don't even know who was behind the march on Saturday, and while marching I realised that I don't really support the idea of the People's Vote. I was marching because I couldn't not march. All the metaphors have been used too often - we are on a precipice, the brink of disaster etc. - but we really are in trouble. Writing this is helping me to pick apart and analyse what I really feel. I was going to write about how much I want Article 50 to be revoked, how much I want the UK to remain in Europe, how disastrous it will be for so many people if we leave, especially if we leave without a deal, and how frustrating it is to be left without any voice in parliament which is in accord with what I want. Why haven't I got anyone to vote for? I can't be the only one to feel this way!

I don't really believe anything will change as a result of the march or the petition, which has more than 5 million signatories last time I looked. I signed the petition and marched because if we do nothing then it is certain that nothing will change. But in reality I believe it is too late. Britain will survive whether we stay or leave. I believe the damage to our society and our economy and our way of life and our future will be greater if we leave, but even if we stay, the majority of the damage has already been done. Every difficulty we face in the future will be ascribed to the decision to leave or to stay. It doesn't matter which it is, the rifts will take decades, maybe generations to heal. If we leave the EU and an economic result is announced, good or bad, "it's because we left the EU," people will say. Or alternatively if we stay, "it's because we stayed in the EU" other people will say in exactly the same situation.

The march was supposed to be about a People's Vote - a second referendum. I think there is sufficient justification for a second referendum, and I can't understand why barely any politicians seem to agree publicly. Even if all the lies and deception associated with the first referendum hadn't been exposed, it can't be denied that we all know a whole lot more about the implications of Brexit now than we did then. But the risk of a second referendum is a second inconclusive result. I am not convinced that there will be sufficient support for rescinding Article 50 even if this were allowed to be on the ballot. But if the only way to sweep aside Article 50 is to have a second referendum, then yes, of course we must.

Photo credit: Lola II

Local news

La Plagne, March 2019

• The living room, stairs and upstairs hall walls have been stripped of their paper, and a little of their plaster too, especially the ceiling. The signs of a previous door out to the garden from the living room have been revealed, which is only very slightly interesting.
• Ulf has come to quote for the plaster skimming, and also to have a look at a couple of other issues with the kitchen build - a crack has appeared in the old brickwork adjacent to the new build, and there is a strange patch of what looks like moisture but isn't on an external wall or at ground level. A week later - not heard back from him yet.
• With the wall all stripped down, I realised that it would be the perfect opportunity to adjust the lights, switches and sockets in the room, so I got back in touch with Bill the electrician. No response for a week, then I followed up by phone, and still nothing definite.
• Olf lost the measurements he made a few weeks ago so had to come back again so he can quote for some outside work. A week later - still no quote.
• I have been inoculated or boosted against diphtheria, tetanus, polio, hepatitis A, typhoid and yellow fever. Not all at once. The yellow fever one was nasty - my arm still hurts nearly a week later and it cost £60, but I do get a nice certificate.
• The bandstand in the pump room gardens is back, after a considerable time (more than a year) being renovated. It's been repainted in strange pastel colours.
• My favourite shop in Leamington, Clarke's greengrocer, has now closed for good. There has been a longstanding pattern of my very favourite shops in town being closed - if this continues then Wofon will be next, or Kayal (but I go to Wofon much more than Kayal).
• I registered a complaint with Santander bank, which contacted me about a potentially fraudulent transaction but didn't make it clear that it wasn't on my account but one for which I have power of attorney. This caused no end of hassle both to me and to the account holder with frozen accounts, declined payments, a bounced cheque and a very extended visit to a branch. The final outcome is positive with compensation for both of us. They said they would take notice of my suggestions for how the system could be improved - all they would have to do would be make clear that I had been contacted as the attorney rather than the main account holder. Seems simple, but everything I have ever heard about how banks manage powers of attorney suggests that nothing will change. At least I won't make that mistake again.
• The molar that had been becoming increasingly troublesome forced me to the dentist in the face of the upcoming trip where dental issues would be highly inconvenient. After examination and X-ray the dentist came back wearing 'very sad face' (he's normally very jolly), to tell me that it was time for extraction. I told him to cheer up because at this point I couldn't be rid of it soon enough. He did a great job; it didn't hurt at the time or since, I completed my 3 days of regular salt water mouthwash (much worse than the extraction) and waited for it to heal a bit more so I could get stuck into all the chewy food I had given up on. I should have stocked up on trifle, but eggs, well-cooked pasta and soup sustained me very well. I ate a lovely crunchy apple yesterday!
• Films watched recently:
• Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - a poor title for a great movie with Tom Hanks, Sandra Bullock and a very talented young actor, Thomas Horn.
• Whitney - after I'd watched this recent documentary I found a slightly older documentary on BBC iPlayer (Can I Be Me?) so I watched that as well. Tragic story of the rise and fall of such a talented woman.
• Three Identical Strangers - a fascinating documentary from Channel 4, some of it predictable I suppose, but each revelation on top of the previous one increased my outrage.
• Miss Sloane - a film recommended by Landrover Man, and it was very good. So complicated that I'd probably have to watch it again to make sure I picked up on all the twists, but I find that the sign of a good film.
• My printer is Not Very Well. It remains to be seen whether its condition is terminal, but I don't have the strength to tackle it just at the moment, and I'll have to use the work printer for critical things if necessary. However, Buddhists, badminton players, work colleagues, friends and family are all Alive as far as I'm aware.

Jolly holiday

Les Arcs 1800, March 2019

There has been a hiatus for the usual reason - I've been away. Skiing, as it happens, just once this year because my forward planning was slightly haphazard and also because of my other big upcoming trip, which I might have mentioned already but can't be bothered to check. If I haven't mentioned it you'll just have to wait.

Skiing was with a group of friends I hadn't been with before - they all knew each other while I knew just three from badminton club #2. The group has expanded and contracted - from what I can gather it started with a group of GPs, most of whom have now stopped coming, but grew with the addition of badminton players, relatives, neighbours, friends, and two people who happened to be staying in the same chalet one year and subsequently latched onto the group. This year we were thirteen, and took over a whole chalet in the resort of Les Arcs 1800.

The standard of skiing was variable, but we generally split into three groups - the fast group, the improvers and people who have got too old for the fast group, and the beginners. I started in the improvers group for the first day, where two of the three people I already knew were skiing. After that I joined the fast group and was by no means the slowest.

We were on a regime of half board at the chalet although the two chalet staff had two days off out of the six we stayed. They were not the best cooks, and the company policy seemed to call for an ambition for meals that they were really not capable of. They would have been better off producing vats of bolognaise or chilli rather than the gritty pea and spinach risotto or the dry fish in filo parcels. They did manage a splendid pea and bacon soup though, and their puddings weren't bad, although in the interest of weight management I declined the pudding most days, but not the cake that awaited us at four o'clock (on the days that the staff were there).

Joining the large group was rather overwhelming for me at first, but it improved once I got to know who was who, and I'd be happy to join them again next year. If they ask me.