After the Earthquake

Today I'll like you to meet my very good blog/Twitter friend, Jo Carroll, who has some important news to share.

Thank you so much, Ros, for inviting me to drop by your lovely blog. Dear Reader, you should know that this is especially kind, as Ros has fits of the vapours if she even reads about some of the things I get up to.

[This is very true, Jo.]

But she has taken the risk on behalf of my new book. What a star!

For those of you who’ve not met me before: I gave up work to go walkabout in my mid 50s, and came home with stories. I’ve carried on travelling, and carried on telling stories. But this book is more than just a travelogue about my recent trip to Nepal; it has different tales to tell.

Firstly some important points explaining why this book is so special:

• All profits are going towards building a house that came down in the earthquake.
• I know the man who will build the house and the family that will live in it.
• I know the rubble that they lived in throughout the monsoon.
• If you want to know more about the appeal, you can find the details here. 

This is the first time I’ve allowed myself to ponder on the wider impact of the earthquake on an economy, eg the man by the roadside in Pokhara with bikes for hire. He’s lost his shop, and can only call to passing tourists from the inadequate shelter of a tree. All of which sounds very serious. 

But no book of mine about Nepal would be complete without the exploits of Tika, Shobha and their family. 

     The cold shower.

            The irreverent giggling at the Peace Stupa.

                  Eating chips on their rooftop.

                        AND I had a close encounter with a crocodile.

                              [Smelling salts please, Jo!]

So there you have it: After the Earthquake: Over the Hill Goes Back to Nepal.
(Sorry, it's an ebook only - it's very short and so it's not economic to invest in printed copies.)

Thank you so much, Jo. What an amazing project. I've already downloaded my copy.

I'm sure I'm not the only reader who is inspired by all your hard work and commitment. 

St Pancras Station is wearing its Christmas glitter but...

...there's good and not so good:

GOOD

Going to the smoke is easier than when I was a kid, except it’s not smoky anymore, not at London’s St Pancras International Shopping Concourse anyway. One hour and five minutes and I’m there, meeting up with Lovely Daughter.

NOT SO GOOD

Descending the escalators to the glittering mirror-ball world of shops at Christmas, I’m caught unawares by the policeman and police dog. “Keep walking! Don’t stop! Let the dog sniff you!” How could I help but have a moment’s falter in my step?

GOOD

OK, so everyone else was photographing the enormous Christmas tree made up of 2,000 Disney character teddies and it didn’t feel cool joining them but I did it anyway. I love teddies.

And because it was so difficult to get the full effect on camera, here's a close up of one tiny part of this huge, huge tree:

NOT SO GOOD

Lulled by the Christmas lights and festive shop displays we were jolted back to reality as two policemen walked past carrying machine guns, not just-in-case-holstered, but in their hands as if they might have to use them at any moment.

GOOD 

The opulent surroundings of Searcys Champagne Bar and Restaurant provided the perfect location for quality time with Daughter. We ate well, chatted loads and almost managed to put the entire world to rights. It was posh fish and chips for me followed by ice cream – delicious!

NOT SO GOOD

Meeting Daughter on a one-day return means that the time flashes past. We were soon hugging and waving our goodbyes and it was too quickly over...

GOOD

...but how great that we can do it. When I was a kid the steam train took hours of slow and dirty chugging. Don’t you just love today’s high-speed world... even if it does have its 'not so good' moments.

My top 5 musings about driving at night

We have just spent a lovely, hectic, lively, tiring, weekend with the kids and grandkids. It would be a little less tiring if I didn’t have to drive back in the dark but with the nights drawing in there’s no alternative, so as I drove I wondered…

1.  Why does it always start to rain when I’m driving at night turning the windscreen into a myriad of tiny headlight reflections?

2.  What is the point of stopping for a coffee, which is my usual middle of a journey driving routine, when it’s too late to have a coffee?

3.  Who is the owner of that car that always comes straight at me with its full beam full on?

4.  Where has the road ahead gone and is it only me who can’t make out which way the road twists and turns in the dark?

5.  Why do I forget to blink my eyes when I’m driving at night?

Does anybody else experience such night-driving problems?

No?

It’s just me then!

The Mist Descends - Autumn photographs

What a difference a day makes:


I took some autumnal photographs in the garden yesterday.

It was October 31st and I tried to capture the beauty of the light on the autumn leaves.

I couldn't catch the bird song

or the slight smoky smell in the air

so you will have to imagine those things.

On the left is the sun shining through the Rowan tree.

The birds have now eaten most of the berries. I hope they don't regret gorging. I hope it's not too cold a winter.

On the right is the Virginia Creeper.

It is always far more spectacular than my camera can ever portray

so loads of imagination required here please.

This is a seed head from an echinacae flower.

I suspect the birds have been gorging yet again.

Then came this morning, November 1st, and the garden is telling me that winter has arrived...

...Now, where did I put my gloves?

A Church Window...

...and why it made me sad.

A few weeks ago I blogged about Belgrave Hall not far from the centre of Leicester and yet an area with a feel of the countryside about it. Next to Belgrave Hall is a church, St Peter's Church. It is now decommissioned, unused, locked up for most of the year and that made me sad.

I can see why it has been decommissioned. There was once a bustling community living in the area and I understand that a church without a congregation is not really a church. I stood looking at the priest's vestments, all laid out on display, brightly embroidered each with different coloured threads, labelled for the particular festivals for which each would be worn. They should have been washed, pressed and awaiting their turn at a service. They made me sad.

The Chancel in St Peter's Church, Belgrave

The building has been up for sale. It didn't sell. I walked around it after my visit to Belgrave Hall and tried to imagine flats where pews have stood for centuries. Who would live with the grand stained glass window that was once part of the chancel?

The chancel window on the left is not the window that gave this post its title. 

I was far more interested in looking at a small side window. It's known as a leper's window or squint window. The sign in the church indicates that this window was installed in the Middle Ages so that priests could give Communion to the lepers as they travelled to Burton Lazars Leper Colony. Not for them the shelter and relative comfort of the pews or the beauty of the adornments. They had to stand in the churchyard, amongst reminders of their mortality. Who would incorporate this window into their lovely new flat? That thought really made me sad.

Burton Lazars is a village not far from Leicester. Inevitably there is no leper colony remaining, just the earthworks of the hospital which were uncovered in 2001 by the University of Leicester Archaeological Society. The hospital buildings were destroyed some hundred years after the Reformation but it had served the needs of lepers from the middle of the 12th century. It was founded by Roger de Mowbray and was said to be the largest leper colony in Europe. I knew nothing about it until I visited St Peter's Church and saw the window with its inscription. I apologise if the photograph is a little dark. It is in a tucked-away corner. I wonder what life might have been like for those lepers. I am determined to find out more about the lepers from Burton Lazars.

The Leper Window:

Inscription beside the window: Through this window the priest in the Middle Ages would give Communion and hear the confessions of lepers journeying to the leper colony at Burton Lazars, which was founded in 1135 by Roger de Mowbray. The stained glass is circa 19th Century

Research Footnote: I have started researching this at the local Records Office and am now wondering if this really was a window for lepers. 
1.  The Church is unlikely to have been en route to the leper colony. 
2.  Lepers would not have been welcomed where there was a large congregation. 
3.  Confessions cannot appropriately be heard through an open window in a public place. 
I am continuing to research this subject so, as they say, watch this space.

Everyone's Reading

Last week Leicester was alive with reading and writing events for this year's Everyone's Reading Festival. I went to quite a few sessions and thought I'd share some of them with you here.

I attended a poetry writing session run by the talented Helen Mort. Helen inspired us to write portrait poetry which ranged from the personal to the surreal. It was a great evening and I can see why Helen has been the Derbyshire Poet Laureate for the last few years. I'd like to know why Leicester doesn't have a poet laureate.

I visited the Leicester Writers' Club for an open evening. I used to be a regular member in the last century! (I feel so old!) It was lovely to go back and meet old friends and they were all so welcoming. Their evening consisted of a panel of six members who had each chosen the book that inspired them to start writing. More about this when I've told you about the rest of my week.

My signing table at Waterstones Leicester

I was invited to BBC Radio Leicester to talk about The Children's Book of Richard III and my imminent appearance at Waterstones Leicester. It was going to be a proper interview but there was so much happening last week that they didn't manage to squeeze in more than a quick shout-out but it was fun and when I arrived at Waterstones there was a queue waiting for me, so it must have jogged a few memories.

I love to hear the questions that children ask at these bookshop events. I'm humbled by the awe that they express when I tell them that I did, indeed, write the book. I would like to think that my book, and the story I tell them about writing it, inspires some of them to have a go at writing themselves, which brings me back to the topic of 'books that inspire us to write'.

The panel from the Writers' Club said that they had great trouble selecting one book that inspired them to write and I'm not surprised. I've tried to think of one but I'm stumped. I think that the inspiration must have come from a mighty mixture of fiction, non-fiction, poetry and newspaper/magazine articles.

I can come up with several books that influenced me in life. As a child I was totally enthralled by Enid Blyton's Famous Five and Secret Seven. I wanted to have a secret den and plans of trips by boat to deserted islands with lemonade, sandwiches and a scoundrel of a dog to add to the excitement.

When I became a teenager it was Wuthering Heights that had me gripped. I was besotted with the hopelessness of their relationship and the depth of love and indeed hate that this relationship created. It suited and probably fuelled my mood of teenage angst. I spent several years collecting old versions of the book and still have them all on my book shelf.

I'm intrigued to know which books have most inspired you.