Water wars

[Note: Not all dams are shown, and smaller tributaries are omitted - Source: Global Dam Tracker by Alice Tianbo Zhang and Vincent Xinyi Gu - By Elena Shao. The small scale below is 250 km, the large scale is 250 miles. Iraq pale blue. Clockwise from the top, surrounded by Turkey, Iran, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Jordan and Syria]

[So much water has disappeared that many bridges have become unnecessary. Just one of the many striking images]

A depressing article from the NYT this morning about water, that is to say mainly about the lack of it in the once fertile Iraq. One part of the problem is that Turkey, and to a lesser extent Iran, are damming up the water (of the Tigris and the Euphrates, the two Biblical rivers) for their own use. Another part is that the climate is getting hotter and drier. Another part is that Iraq's use of such water that there is is left is rather wasteful. Yet another is the destruction and disruption caused by Islamic militants. And last but by no means least, Iraq's population has near quadrupled since the 1970's, to around 45 million now. The various wars during that time notwithstanding. Figures perhaps lifted from, but in any event confirmed by, Wikipedia.

It seems all too likely that, going forward, there are going to be a lot of refugees from Iraq. Maybe walking across the border with Turkey. And not at all clear what we might do about it.

PS 1: it seems that China is another upstream nation, making problems for downstream nations.

PS 2: one can read something of the US way with water in the southwestern states at references 3 and 4. Noting that not much of the Colorado River is left by the time that it reaches Mexico - just about a downstream nation.

PS 3: most of the words got lost when I lifted the image above from the NYT website. A deliberate ploy to deter people like me?

References

Reference 1: A climate warning from the cradle of civilisation - Alissa J. Rubin, Bryan Denton, New York Times - 2023. Alissa J. Rubin and Bryan Denton spent months reporting from nearly two dozen cities, towns and villages across Iraq.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demographics_of_Iraq.

Reference 3: http://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.com/2011/10/st-lukes.html.

Reference 4: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cadillac_Desert.

The chine

Having had a quiet day, as noticed at reference 1, we thought to venture as far as Shanklin and pay our near annual visit to Shanklin Chine of reference 2. An interesting old attraction dating from the early nineteenth century, which has survived, if not always thrived, for two hundred years, a keeping which has involved charitable status (whatever that might mean, but see reference 3) and a selection of dinosaur exhibits tucked in among the plants. There was to have been a new tea room this year, but that was swept away, just before the season started, by a little local landslip. One Anne Primrose Popham Springman has been in the chair for more than twenty five years now: a lady with an interesting story, as can be found at reference 4.

We took the train to Brading, crossing, for the purpose, a rather rattly footbridge, possibly temporary, but in any case standing in for the original, present but presumably condemned. Out at Shanklin to catch the fake noticed at reference 5, but to miss the interesting bookshop and the interesting charity shop, once a sale room, which we usually visit. Either we were not paying attention or we had taken the wrong road from the station to the town.

Tea and Eccles cakes at Grace's bakery, with Hurst's, the island's answer to Robert Dyas visible in blue a bit further down the street. A place where, for example, you can buy keyrings in all different sizes - two of which hold my braces up as I type. The Eccles cakes were very good, as good as I remember having, so we thought we could take a chance on one of their white loaves - which was fine.

Through the old village, where the slightly pretentious, Keats flavoured restaurant where we had once eaten after a show, was firmly shut up. See reference 6.

On into the chine, with the timbers supporting the first section being snapped above. Lots of interesting plants in the chine, as ever, including something which looked very like knotweed. Reading the leaflet provided later, I found that knotweed had been a problem, but that it was now under control. So maybe it was knotweed.

Not sure that I would want the fairy lighted offering after dark, which probably comes with sound as well. But it is good by daylight, and not usually very busy.

Giant rhubarb in good form.

While outside, the hydrangeas were in good form. Always something of a puzzle how they are grown in full sun outside houses at the seaside, while at Ventnor Botanic Gardens they are mainly grown in the shade, under mature trees.

The café where we took crab sandwiches last year was shut, we didn't fancy a public house and most of the other cafés were shut too, but more or less at the end of the esplanade, we came across a proper seaside chipper which was open. The sort of place with chairs and tables fixed to the floor and which could probably get through a lot of people in an hour should need arise.

The chips were good and the steak and kidney pie was a lot better than might at first appear. BH was quite happy with her cod and chips. With mushy peas, naturally.

The offering from Bayside. The bay in question being Sandown Bay, with Shanklin being towards the southern end thereof. One supposes that whoever named the café knew this. Unless, of course, it is just one member of some larger family, that is to say a chain. 

An exercise for the curious: what proportion of seaside resorts can reasonably be described as being in a bay? In the way, for example, that Lyme Regis is in Lyme Bay. I don't think one could stretch to saying that the whole of a coastline can be expressed as series of bays (edges) linked by headlands (vertices) - not least because, at the limit, one might have a more or less circular island, with neither bays nor headlands. No safe harbours at all. So perhaps no seaside resorts either...

The two blocks of flats which rather dominate the southern skyline, as seen from outside the chip shop. Much more dominating than the snap above from Street View would suggest. Were the heritage folk on holiday when this one came up?

We thought we might walk along the promenade to Sandown and get the bus or the train from there, with the option of copping out at Lake. Lots of hydrangeas.

As it turned out, we did cop out, taking a zig-zag path up the cliff. To find at the top four swifts swinging about above the gulls. And at ground level, a Robin Reliant, something I don't recall seeing for years. On the road too.

And, as luck would have it, we did find the bus stop just in time for a bus to take us to Brading, so missing out on the half hour wait. We missed out on the rain too, at least in very large part, despite the forecast. But it did rain after we got home.

Home to a spot of impromptu bread pudding, using up some odds and ends of bread, but in the absence of a properly stocked larder. So while it looked rather well, it was a bit light on both sugar and fruit. All gone though by 09:00 the following morning.

PS: some late news from the Guardian. First, they have updated their editorial code, which can be found at reference 7. Not easy reading, but it is good that they should publish such a thing. Second, we have the case of one Siyabonga Twala, a South African who has lived in this country for the twenty years or so since he was fifteen. Not to be confused with the actor, personality and businessman of the same name to be found at reference 8. It seems that the Home Secretary/Home Office used the opportunity provided by his family taking a holiday in South Africa to block his return, so stranding him in Turkey, using the excuse of a five year old, one might say purged, cannabis offence. We are not told why he did not bother to take out citizenship, but we can assume that his son, now back in the UK, was born here, and it seems quite wrong to make an exclusion order of this sort. He is effectively, if not in law, British, and he is our responsibility, warts and all. Along with all our public figures who use, or who have used, drugs of one sort or another.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/07/best-dressed-crab.html.

Reference 2: https://shanklinchine.co.uk/.

Reference 3: https://register-of-charities.charitycommission.gov.uk/charity-search/-/charity-details/5092611.

Reference 4: https://www.islandlifemagazine.co.uk/anne-springman-a-life-full-of-fun/.

Reference 5: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/07/fake-164_17.html.

Reference 6: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2016/07/keats-kitchen.html.

Reference 7: Guardian News & Media: Editorial code of practice and guidance - Guardian - 2023. To be found at: https://uploads.guim.co.uk/2023/07/27/GNM_editorial_code_of_practice_and_guidance_2023.pdf.

Reference 8: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siyabonga_Thwala.

Best dressed crab

Following the rigours of Carisbrooke noticed at reference 1, we decided that a soft day, centred on a visit to the best dressed crab people at Bembridge was the way forward. People to be found at reference 2. With one of last year's two visits being noticed at reference 3.

Started off with a gentle stroll in Brading Marshes, marshes now largely under the control of the bird people (that is to say the RSPB) and gentle because the path we use used to be the railway line from Brading to Bembridge.

Or, to be more precise, we started by checking that the church piano noticed four years ago at reference 4 was still there, as it was. A fine piece of century-old oak joinery. Pity that they did not bother to make the music holder in something that matched better. Very tatty compared with the piano proper. Still no sign of a maker's mark.

And so on into the marshes. Where as well as immature blackberries we had one egret, three herons, two buzzards and one other large raptor, neither buzzard nor kite. Sundry crows, magpies, blackbirds and pigeons. Skylarks heard but not seen, which was frustrating.

On the way back we came across an enthusiastic tweeter, who may have been a care worker taking his charge (a young male) for a country outing. He also had quite a fancy camera and knew all about the white tailed eagles put up by the RSPB. He offered a picture on his telephone of a heron trying to eat a coot but I forget whether the heron managed to get it down.

Snapped the pound in Quay Lane. While here in Epsom we have a Pound Lane but no pound.

Then in the churchyard we came across a Bazalgette tomb, containing, as it turned out, the mortal remains of the father of the Bazalgette of London sewage fame. Listed as Captain Joseph William Bazalgette, RN, but according to reference 5 he was actually only a commander. On retirement at the end of the Napoleonic wars, he seems to have lived in London and it is not clear how he wound up in Brading, although the island has for a long time been home to plenty of retired naval folk.

And so to the crabs, where we took much the same meal as last time, that is to say crab salads with Chablis. I did not feel that I had had quite enough after my salad, substantial though it was, and took an extra crab sandwich, on white (rather the brown, considered proper), without all the trimmings. This certainly filled me up, but from an aesthetic point of view, taking an off-menu sandwich did not really work.

Staff all very friendly and we learned that they did well enough at lunchtime that they did not need to open in the evening.

The field behind our cottage, the source of the occasional braying. The sort of messy field that, back in Epsom, one would associate with travellers.

PS: I close with a railway puzzle, from the aforementioned line from Brading to Bembridge. What is the point of turning the locomotive around, given that one can't turn the whole train around? And given that it has travelled backwards to Bembridge, why not let it travel forwards back to Brading?

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/07/carisbrooke-priory.html.

Reference 2: https://thebestdressedcrabintown.co.uk/.

Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/07/nunwell-clockwise.html.

Reference 4: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/07/piano-17.html.

Reference 5: https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/A_Naval_Biographical_Dictionary/Bazalgette,_Joseph_William.

Trolley 577

Two more trolleys from M&S in the Kokoro passage this morning, one of them with an unusual green handle. Unusual, at least for Epsom. Returned to the stacks at M&S, where the young lady tidying the stacks looked far to harassed to bother about where the green handled trolley might have come from. Some neighbouring petrol station? Perhaps the one up South Street, maybe a kilometre away? As it happens, on the way to the creationists of reference 2, probably not relevant as most of them will be on vacation.

Plenty of cherries in the market, probably English and probably past their best, as were the last ones we had, I think from Tesco's at Leatherhead. I passed in favour of some Victoria plums. A little small and a little past their best, but the few I have had so far were fine.

On the way home, via the Screwfix underpass, I followed up on drain covers, taking a bit more care this time. So we had both Adamics and Adams of York, presumably the same people. Needham of Stockport. Both Broad and Broads of London. Gibb of London (one). Woodrow of London (one). Wrekin, possibly of the Wrekin, sometimes on behalf of Thames Water.

Long Humphrey of Chertsey, Surrey (one). And regarding the letters, for example those in the snap above, I came across another cover where most of the letters appeared to have come off: not worn off, come off - as if the letters were stuck on afterwards somehow, rather than being cast on. Not obvious to me which way would be easier. Need to find a foundryman to ask.

Quite a few Thames Water own brand, variously Thames Water, Water, TWA, TW and W. With the small circular ones actually being plastic meter covers. With the TWA presumably pre-dating selling the water companies off.

Plenty of anonymous. Plenty with company name or initials but with no place of manufacture. Looking forward, these might well be excluded, along with most of the own brands, by the rules committee.

Moving on from drain covers proper, we had own brands from CATV and Nymex. BT and the Post Office. The Urban District Council: Electricity Supply (one), Electricity Supply (one) and Gas (one).

It struck me, on this first serious outing, that it was not that unlike classifying and identifying plants and animals, in that one is casting about for the right properties on which to classify. One is building a taxonomy. One is also building up a history of sorts of manufacturers, organisations and localities. One might change the branding, but one is stuck with the drain covers. At least, unless you are prepared to go to a great deal of expense to change them all. In which connection, see reference 3.

I associate to Microsoft's Word, where the long suffering product architects have to carry around all kinds of ancient history, that is to say all the old versions of Word. The current, super whizzy version of Word has to be able to cope with all the files produced by all the old, not-so-whizzy versions - which some senior customers may be very attached to - or there are going to be a lot of very cross customers.

PS: brought down to ground later on by BH beating me at Scrabble by 282 points to 195. A low scoring game, but a big margin. Her second win in a row. Must do better tomorrow.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/07/one-of-much-sought-after-small-trolleys.html. Note clerical error in file name.

Reference 2: https://www.uca.ac.uk/.

Reference 3: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2021/06/breslau-drain-covers.html.

Group search key: trolleysk.

Kindling

This to record that, for the first time for months, perhaps a small number of years, my Kindle has reappeared on my bedside table. A fairly old Kindle now, rather like the one above, lifted from Wikipedia.

A few hiccups during the recharge and I worried whether the battery had expired through lack of use, but after a while all was well. The Kindle was up and running again.

The prompt for all this was watching the version of 'Vanity Fair' offered by ITVX on our nearly new Samsung, fairly smart television, an antidote to overdosing on much more recent police dramas, with all their sweat and gore. This one, a perfectly decent effort, one of many that have been made over the years, was made in six episodes in 1998, as detailed at reference 5. All of which resulted in my wanting to look at the book again, in my case a fat Penguin Classics, perhaps 3cm thick, but long since retired. The thought was that it was probably on the Kindle, which indeed proved to be the case. No need to extract a copy from Surrey Libraries, our local Oxfam shop or anywhere else.

Helped along by using the search provided for 'pumpernickel', I started fairly near the end and was pleased to find that this book has worn pretty well - despite it being getting on for 200 years since it was written.

I have also been reminded of the convenience of Kindles for reading in bed. Unlike a real book, one can read a Kindle more or less single handed, which I find much more comfortable when lying down than two handed. Perhaps the Kindle and all the classics thereon will get another outing!

PS 1: I take a few minutes this morning to run down the original purchase, working my way from reference 1, via 'view page source', to reference 2, from August 2011. So roughly twelve years ago. With quite a lot of notice, so presumably quite a lot of activity in the rest of 2011 and going on into 2012. I imagine it dies down a bit after that. The list of contents now occupies fifteen pages, mostly from the classical repertoire of the 19th and early 20th centuries, with just the odd bit of something modern. Several of the 'The collected works of X' which are offered by Amazon for a nominal 99p or something of that sort - agreeably cheap if a bit fiddly to use.

PS 2: while the Kindle is up and running, the cable which came with it for charging and connection is not so well. The white plastic casing has crumbled at the USB/power plug end, revealing the wire sheath to the core. It still works, but I thought replacement might be a good idea - to find that the replacement was not good for all the things that one could do with the original. Something else that I never got around to sorting out.

PS 3: there were some philosophical thoughts first thing this morning. About how a novel can get away with a lot more on the page than it can on the screen. A novel on the page is well on the way to being a dream, with what counts being the stringing together of impressions and sensations. And over, say, three hundred pages, it does not need to all hang together in the way of a story told in a court-room. There is plenty of room for loose ends, if not outright contradictions. Doubts and disbelief, as my mother used to say, could be happily suspended. While in the much simplified version on the screen, usually consumed in much less time, often in just the one sitting, such things stand out more, irritate more. However, recounting these thoughts now, I am not so sure. But I still think that there is something here which will bear further thinking.

References

Reference 1: https://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.com/search?q=kindle.

Reference 2: http://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.com/2011/08/there-old-etonians-get-everywhere.html.

Reference 3: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vanity_Fair_(novel).

Reference 4: Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackery - 1848.

Reference 5: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0159090/.

Berries

The blackberries hanging over the Screwfix underpass are coming on, although not quite to the point where it is worth going out with a tub to pick them.

On my big screen downstairs, the leaves, particularly those of the nettles below, look curiously two dimensional, as if they had been cut out of thin green paper. Presumably some by-product of the focus on the berries.

Before getting there, I was able to take in the shopfitting activity in what is to be a branch of Gail's Bakery. What was Lakeland and before that Lester Bowden. I wonder what, if any, use I will make of the place? I wonder also whether whoever actually own the chain have not overreached themselves: there are a lot of these bakeries popping up all over London (not to say elsewhere, but I don't know about that) and Epsom already has a lot of cafés (both blue collar and white collar) and snack bars.

We had a van parked in the market square offering dinosaur parties for children, complete with metre-high dinosaurs from various eras.

And another van parked in the market square  offering a street food take on steak and chips, that is to say white plastic foam containers containing lumps of grilled steak on beds of chips. Perhaps given a suitably foreign and exotic flavour by the offer of some kind of lumpy brown goo. I did not get close enough to know about that.

Then on the way home, following up the Dibben of Newport of the previous post (reference 1), I had an eye to drain covers. I was expecting a lot from Stockport, but as it turned out there was just one of those. A London firm scored the most, with a York firm coming a respectable second. Plus a few oddments, plus a lot which did not carry a place of origin at all. Clearly time for a more systematic attack on the matter.

PS: I don't suppose there ever was a Gail, unlike Ella the baker of Ashburton, now retired from the fray, whom I believe to exist and believe to have met.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/07/carisbrooke-priory.html.

Carisbrooke Priory

After a few days at or near the seaside, we thought it time to venture into the interior, as far as Carisbrooke, for a long time the military centre of the island. But not to the castle, rather to the relatively modern priory just below the castle on the southeastern side. With the view from a handy bench by the front door included above. With a passing motorcyclist just about visible below the virgin in the gate, and with the castle invisible beyond the gate.

The now vanished first foundation was somewhere near the church, in the village of Carisbrooke, and this second foundation, one of many works of the Countess of Clare, a very rich convert (in middle life) from Ireland, ran from 1866 until 1989. The nuns, apart from prayer, were mainly into craft work, in particular the manufacture of ecclesiastical vestments, the sort of thing you can still buy from the ecclesiastical outfitter just to the south of Westminster Abbey, probably in the vicinity of Great College Street. Another of her works was St. Mary's church in Ryde, the first proper Catholic church on the island, last noticed at reference 3, although not visited on that particular occasion. She must have been very rich indeed and taken a lot of those riches out of Ireland, but perhaps she was forgiven on account of her conversion to the true faith (of Rome).

The priory now functions as a sort of general purpose religious centre, plus arts and crafts, plus a good chunk of the accommodation given over to the Salvation Army, who I think use it as a half way house for young people with problems.

The small chapel houses, inter alia, the piano noticed at reference 4. Next to that was a large collection of secondhand books for sale, nearly all faith books, so not of much interest to myself. Next to that was the cafeteria offering, again inter alia, tea and substantial slices of cake.

Arts and crafts somewhere nearby, again not of much interest to myself, and from there we strolled into the rather derelict, but still pleasant, gardens. A good supply of benches.

The back of the chapel. And at the bottom of the garden, there was a small graveyard, presumably for the nuns, but with the complication that there were two sorts of gravestone, one on the left, another on the right. Perhaps one sort was for the nuns and the other sort was for their lay helpers.

And a drain cover from Dibben of Newport.

Bing turns up a range, date not supplied, made by the same people. So perhaps they really were a foundry, not just a builders' merchant who brought in personalised drain covers from somewhere up north, then the land of the real metal bashers. Google turns up rather more island Dibbens, including both the one above and one Jill Dibben, partner in the Perfectly Posh Laundry of Sandown. Clearly a family which has survived. I think that the laundry, should you need one, is to be found at reference 8 below, having dropped the 'Perfectly' bit along the way.

From there to the regular church at Carisbrooke, after working out that we did not have to pay for a short visit to the village car park. A church with a very large west door through into the tower.

And an old, if rather spartan interior. A place which did not seem to have much life left in it.

Some masonic evidence of change over the years. But old, as my understanding, such as it is, is that the style of decoration of the larger, right hand column in Norman. No doubt one of the house detectives you get on television would be able to explain it all for me. We also had the piano noticed at reference 5, not as grand as that at reference 4.

Perhaps the house detective would be able to work this one out as well. A relationship with Sheen(e) Priory of reference 6 in the fifteenth century, East Sheen being the place in west London where BH spent much of the first half of her childhood, then a relationship with Queen's College Oxford starting in the seventeenth century, the days when many of our country parsons were Oxbridge men. And when, I seem to recall, that fellows there were required to be parsons. 

The rather muddled exterior, snapped from the southwest. Tower left, lady chapel right.

And so to the Eight Bells for lunch, an establishment which rather reminded me of the Twisted Oak, a house in Exeter which earned a brief mention at reference 7. Doing quite a good trade for a weekday lunchtime, most of it looking local. And I dare say they do a roaring roast business for families on Sundays. But with a website which my laptop judges suspect, so not included below. I took something described as Asian beef with rice and crackers, which served well enough - although I had forgotten how sticky prawn crackers can be.

The mill pond (or some such) at the bottom of the garden.

Probably the pond directly above the 'M' for the museum in Carisbrooke Castle, snapped above from the Ordnance Survey. The purple pin defied my attempts to remove it, despite being given the option.

Back through Newport, where we were able to admire several raised pavements, and managing (for once) to get onto the right road back to Brading, the one that takes us past the seamark on Ashey Down.

A quick visit to Tesco's for one of their white bloomers and where we were pleased to find a souvenir of Epsom. That is to say a photographic booth from Blenheim Road on the Longmead industrial estate.

PS: some days later, I happened to be turning the pages of the Fiona MacCarthy biography of Eric Gill noticed at reference 9, when I came across a reference in the introduction to newly acquired material held by the Dominican Archive of Carisbrooke, presumably then held at this very Priory. Google turns up reference 10, from which I learn the archive went to Edinburgh in 1989, the very year that MacCarthy wrote her book. I wonder now how she knew that it held something of interest to her.

References

Reference 1: https://carisbrookepriory.org.uk/.

Reference 2: https://iow-chs.org/island-people/life-of-elizabeth-countess-of-clare-foundress-of-st-marys-church-ryde/.

Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/07/interior-ryde.html.

Reference 4: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/07/piano-74.html.

Reference 5: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/07/piano-75.html.

Reference 6: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sheen_Priory.

Reference 7: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/05/licensed-dining-in-far-west.html.

Reference 8: http://www.poshlaundry.co.uk/.

Reference 9: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/08/gill.html.

Reference 10: https://castrial.files.wordpress.com/2016/11/catholic_archives_2003.pdf.

Watery muddle

A water bill arrived today which told me that I had nothing to pay. Which annoyed me, because clearly I do pay Thames water for supply of clean water and the removal of dirty water. There is a direct debit mandate to prove it.

First stop was my bank statements, which I only keep for a year, on which I could find no trace of Thames Water.

Second stop was my file of bills. Thames Water was to be found here, but nothing about what I had been paying them, if anything. But there was talk of a payment holiday.

Third stop was my online account, which turned out not to exist, although creating one was not particularly difficult. My only complaint was that it did not like the password I first thought to use.

But when I got into my account, there was neither payment nor transaction history, and I was reduced to checking by download all the half yearly statements. They were reasonably complicated, and as far as I can make out, I last paid them money, £92 a month to be precise, back in January 2022.

I can only suppose that Thames Water have difficulty guessing how much water we are going to use, despite our being regular and undemanding customers for thirty years or more, with no tendency to start pouring water into garden ponds, hot tubs or anything else. Just bog standard domestic use. So much difficulty that I ran up enough credit with them for them not to need to take any money off me for well over a year. To be fair, I think some of the other utilities are just as bad.

Furthermore, I suspect that the pendulum is about to swing the other way, with my balance with them not being nearly enough to meet the next bill. It seems all too likely that this will result in my direct debit being set rather too high in the not too distant future.

The bottom line seems to be that Thames Water are as bad at managing customer accounts as they are at managing leaks. What they are good at is sucking money out of the system to pay their shareholders. Or at least they were until recently. To be fair, I have also read that we have been paying them rather less than is fair if we want them to keep the infrastructure in good working order: shareholders are not the only ones to have been doing OK. To which I would add that, if we sell off a chunk of the country's infrastructure for ready cash, we can't really complain if the buyer wants to recoup his outlay. The buyer has, in effect, bought an annuity off the consumer. Jam today and to hell with tomorrow.

The other annoyance of the day has been the overturning of a conviction for a serious rape committed some twenty years ago. The Guardian tells us that there has been a serious miscarriage of justice and of various failings in the criminal justice system, but tells us nothing of what it was that lead the police to believe that the man they put in jail for getting on for twenty years was guilty in the first place or of any failings in his defence which may have contributed to the jury believing them. Perhaps this is not the time for balance, perhaps comment is out of order until the appeal court finishes its business. Perhaps we will have to wait for some blockbuster report from some retired judge in ten year's time. But it is all rather unsatisfactory - and our track record in matters of this sort is not such that one is content to just let the powers that be get on with it.

Interior Ryde

After two days at the beach, the weather forecast was poor, so we settled for a ride to Ryde by train - on which we were able to admire the train ticket collector's fine leather bag, identical to the sort of bag (or perhaps satchel) that bus ticket collectors - aka bus conductors - used to carry when I was young. Slightly abused by stuffing a plastic change dispenser into one of the pockets.

Out at Ryde Esplanade, where the weather looked fine and the pier looked well. Is the green the seagrass noticed at reference 1?

First stop was the Alamo, more or less opposite the station, where we took tea and toasted pretzels, served by an older waitress who knew her work. Bright and cheerful and it is always a pleasure to be served by such people. A multi-function establishment being a café during the day, but gradually morphing into a bar as the day wore on.

Up the once grand Union Street where we came across a grand car, taking full advantage of the recent repeal of the bit of Euro law (Sir Jacob Rees-Mogg, KT, QT, Barff, formerly reserve goalie for Eton Wanderers, in the chair) which says that the numbers and letters on registration plates have to be grouped in the proper way as an aid to recognition and memory. So in this case 'GH05 TDC'. Groupie freedom now rules!

Took a pew (as it were) in the garden of rest which has been made out of the church yard of St. Thomas, more or less unused since it closed for worship in 1959. Curiously, according to reference 1, the church had always been and was still in private hands until that time. Now, one imagines, mainly the evening resort of takers and smokers of substances various - but pleasant enough during the day.

Onto All Saints, also firmly shut, but a very fine viewing shelter had been provided across the road. A church where we had once heard the organ in use - some years ago now, but noticed at reference 3.

The view from inside the shelter. Presumably put to the same use as the garden of rest in the silent hours. No idea why such an expensive shelter was erected in the first place. For people who were allowed to look at but not not enter the church during divine service?

From there to the fine secondhand bookshop at the top of the High Street, where I did not find 'Bel-Ami', which we took in television form recently, but I did take three volumes of Maupassant short stories, all they had, from a collected edition. The sort of edition which you might buy as a paper back and have bound yourself. Possibly collected by theme, with the volume above mainly made up of what be loosely called love stories, with illustrations to match. 'Contes gallantes' in the French?

Each volume had its own illustrator and engraver although, to be fair, some teams scored more than one volume. From 1925, when the wood engraving still ruled the publishing world, at least as far as illustrations went.

Well into the second volume now. Most of the stories are quite short and there are few words that I need to look up, so ideal for a spot of bed-time reading before one turns the light off. That said, Maupassant seems to have been quite a miserable type, with quite a high proportion of the stories ending badly. On the other hand, in at least one of his stories, 'Le Remplaçant', the ladies have their turn in the chair. 

Onto Wight's for a fish and chips lunch. The second waitress of the day who knew her business, another lady of middle years. Pretty good, the only fault being the amount of marge they put on each of my two slices. Quite off-putting, even when I scraped most of it off. A relic, I suppose, of the days when plenty of people were poor and hungry and would take all the calories you gave them.

Catholic church visible right, above the rather squashed looking red car, more or less opposite the book shop.

A once grand building, more or less next door to the chipper, once the 'Eagle Brewery Hotel'. I didn't think to take a look inside right and see if they really did sell snakes. Perhaps just as well, as most people who keep such things as pets have no business so doing and should not be encouraged. About on a par with people who like violent and ugly dogs as pets.

Not to be confused with the 'Royal Eagle Hotel', once of Pier Street, once known as the Beazley Hotel. Presumably no relation of the chap who founded the company at reference 5. The pier is still there, but Pier Street is no more and the hotel is no more, and what was its ground floor has been given over to amusements from Arcadia. Two doors up from the 'Cod Father' chipper, a place which, as it happens, we have never used.

The High Street did not run to a butcher or a fishmonger, although there was a baker of sorts and quite a decent fruit & veg shop. A shop which had cherries, but I thought they looked a bit dear and possibly overripe, so I abstained.

Back in Union Street, Smith's could not manage a Guardian but Morrison's could. And you had to interact with a person to get out. Nothing in the way of self-service checkouts to be seen.

Despite having bought return ticket on the train, we opted for a No.2 bus to take us back to Brading. Our senior bus passes saw us through and the bus dropped us a good deal nearer our cottage than the railway station.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/07/econews.html.

Reference 2: https://rshg.org.uk/ryde-history/ryde-churches/st-thomas-church-churchyard-history/.

Reference 3: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2016/07/ryde.html.

Reference 4: https://www.ryde-bookshop.co.uk/.

Reference 5: https://www.beazley.com/en-001. Never seen such an '001' suffix before.