Tuesday 23 April 2024

Today it is William Shakespeare's birthday ....

... and I'm celebrating the Bard with one of my favourite speeches from one of my best-loved characters from a play I have appeared in twice, A Midsummer Night's Dream ...   


   

     If we shadows have offended,
     Think but this, and all is mended,
     That you have but slumber'd here
     While these visions did appear.
     And this weak and idle theme,
     No more yielding but a dream,
     Gentles, do not reprehend:
     If you pardon, we will mend:
     And, as I am an honest Puck,
     If we have unearned luck
     Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
     We will make amends ere long;
     Else the Puck a liar call;
     So, good night unto you all.
     Give me your hands, if we be friends,
     And Robin shall restore amends.
     
A Midsummer Night's Dream - Puck

Illustration by Owensart, Pixabay

Tuesday 16 April 2024

Something murderous this way comes ...

 ... Promoting Yorkshire Authors is putting together a festival of crime in July.  Read on for more intriguing details ...


I am very pleased to tell you that a brand new festival of crime will be launched in July. Murder Most Yorkshire is coming to Harrogate on July 4th. Throughout that weekend, there will be author interviews, author discussion panels, book signings, and lots, lots more.

Events will be taking place at various venues across town.  There will be an opportunity for tea and cake, as well as listening to talks about crime, discussions about murder, readings from top-notch mystery novels, and a chance to speak to attending authors.

During that weekend, I will be joined by Gianetta Murray - author of a Supernatural Shindig which was released earlier this year and Moved to Murder, a cosy crime due to be released in June.  We will be at Bilton Library on Friday, July 5th, as part of a panel of authors discussing cosy crime.  Details of the third author joining us will be released very soon.  The full programme for the whole festival from July 4th to July 7th will be released in the coming weeks.  I will gradually let you know about the attendees, interviewees, and hosts across all of my social media.  Can't wait to be there!

So please do come along and join us.


For those who like to dabble with writing, here is a second opportunity not to be missed.  Promoting Yorkshire Authors are putting together an anthology of work celebrating crime.  If you have a short story (3500 words or less), a piece of flash fiction (100 words or less) or a piece of poetry (40 lines or less), then we would like to hear from you.  Check out the QR code on the left to get more details.

The deadline for submissions to the anthology has been extended to May 15th


... keep watching this space and checking your social media for updates, and get writing and submit that piece of fiction or poetry.

.





Tuesday 9 April 2024

I'm Off My Beaten Track in Norway...

Old property in the Hanseatic Quarter
.. today.  Come and stroll with me as I meander through the city of Bergen using my travel journal, Norway Notes, as my guide...

The city of Bergen is the second largest after Oslo, with a population of around 290,000.  By comparison, the second largest city in England is Birmingham, with a population of 1.1 million.  As I meander from the dock where our Captain has parked the boat, I see vast mountains as a backdrop to an urban landscape that reminds me of Portsmouth or Brighton, both of which have comparable numbers of inhabitants and equally long histories.
The earliest indications of settlement in this location date from the start of the 11th century, and trading has been the core of life here since that time.  The city was founded by King Olav in 1070.  It became Norway’s capital city in the 13th century.  It was towards the end of that century that Bergen then became the centre for the Hanseatic League – a medieval commercial group of Guilds that traded across the northern part of Europe.  In many respects, they were an early blueprint for the 17th Century Dutch East India Company.
From the ship, it’s about a twenty-minute walk to Bryggen.  The road runs alongside the inlet that forms the original harbour, and the old wooden buildings on the quay are what remains of the original warehouses and trading rooms of the league.  Established in Germany in the 12th Century, the league gradually extended its reach for trade and commerce across most of northern Europe.  They traded and moved raw materials – wool, leather, wood and other goods – between ports and towns using a variety of sailing vessels, some suitable to navigate the river system as well as much larger ocean-going ships.
As I stroll along the quay, the sounds ring out from the traffic, the people, and the seabirds. Six hundred years ago, this dock area and port would have been full of mast-rigged ships, lighters to move stock and goods from the port side to the ship and back, the constant rapping of rigging, and the noise of men at work on the vessels either stowing or moving cargo, mending equipment and making necessary repairs by hand.  It would have been a hive of activity.
Today, things are much more sedate.  Even the large fish market is a refined and quieter affair.  As I slowly move through the stalls, I’m offered shellfish to try.  I’m shown a substantial side of tuna.  On another stall, there are lobster and langoustine.  I don’t know any of the local names, and some of the produce I’ve never seen on a market in England or France.  But there is one stall that stops me dead in my tracks.  The man behind the counter is clearly very proud of his stock of whale meat.  I’m appalled that it is there and that it’s for sale.  Despite his entreaties to buy, I walk away.
Most of the shipping in this area of the port is now for leisure.  There are any number of yachts and catamarans tied up.  But the real history is in the quay-side buildings and a small bulbous monument that sits on one of the jetties.  As I leave the market I can make my way along the Shetlands-Larssen Brygge that runs parallel to the main quay.  About three-quarters of the way along is a round stone memorial.  On there are the names of all the 515 local sailors who lost their lives in the 1939/45 conflict.

More modern property beside the inlet
There’s much more history to be mined here, and I will be back with more from my Norway Notes next month…

Tuesday 2 April 2024

I'm Off My Beaten Track in Cairo...

... as I come to the end of my notes from my Egypt Journal. Read on as I visit the Coptic churches and finally take the plane home ...

FINAL TOUR

Breakfast and then the final tour of the holiday: the Coptic churches of old Cairo and a bus to Misr al - Qadimah in the old quarter of the city.  Some fascinating and early orthodox Christian monuments, along with the remains of the fortress of Babylon and other leftover medieval structures. The Coptic Museum is a beautiful eastern building with large, wide doorways, high ceilings and windows covered with arabesque woodwork. Inside the rooms have been constructed in order to precisely fit the carved wooden porticos, ceilings and pillars that have been removed from local coptic houses in order to preserve them. The decoration is rich and colourful and highly detailed.  All very interesting, but it's the next stop that I'm eager to get to.
Back to the coach and a trip to see the production of pots from local clay. The coach threaded its way through the local market. It was a hive of industry and trade. There were animals and carts, traffic and people everywhere.
Eventually, the coach drew up at the end of a street across from a large building with row upon row of terracotta pots of all shapes and sizes. A short walk took us from the bus to the centre of the area.
The site was a mass of mud brick huts of various sizes, some were the kilns to bake the clay and some were the workshops and some were the houses of the families who lived here. There were large slurry pits containing the clay needed to make the pots. The clay was scooped out of the pits with large buckets and then it was piled into a corner of one of the workshops. Chunks were cut from it as required. Children were the custodians of the clay and used either their hands or feet to separate a piece large enough for the adults to work on. The clay was thrown on a turntable that was powered by the potters feet. Each pot was then stacked on the floor to dry, which would take about 2 or 3 days. Then the dry pots were put into the kiln. Each kiln was a beehive-shaped building made of mud brick. There was an extension at the back with a pit underneath to hold the fire. Every inch of space in the kiln was filled by a pot of one size or another and then the front of the kiln was sealed with more mud bricks. The fire was made from sun dried cane leaves and maize leaves. These were piled in numerous spots throughout the area. The fire was fed constantly for about a week and then it was left for another 5 to 7 days to die and cool. When the kiln was cool the mud bricks were removed and the pots left in the sun for a while before being sold. This is pharaonic production in a modern century.  Take away the potter's modern watch, and you could have slipped through time for more than two thousand years...


TRAVELLERS HOMEWARD BOUND

At five-forty-five, I got up to find the Nile swathed in a thin fog. The sun was a golden-red disk just above the horizon. I dressed, put the last few items in the suitcase, and left it in the hallway for the porters to collect. I had a quick breakfast, and then I went down to the foyer to take the coach to the airport.
The city looked grey and empty as we drove through it, and for the first time since arriving, I realised that it was quiet. There were no car horns or engines—only the early morning call to prayer. It was cool, and I detected a distinct sharpness in the air.
The plane was almost empty. Our party provided the majority of the passengers. Having taken off, I was able to occupy an empty window seat. I watched the ground below us change from urban grey to dusky green to sandy yellow. Eventually, the sandy yellow gave way to the white surf and the bright blue Mediterranean. And Egypt was gone...

... just after leaving London by train, it started to rain. As the first drops appeared on the windows, I remember being amazed and feeling gratified by the sight.  Living here in the UK, I don't think I have ever been so happy to see rain as I was that day.

If you've only just found my Egypt posts, don't worry, you can catch up on all the others by clicking the following links Cairo Giza Solar Sailing Tell-el-Amarna Assiut  Abu Simbel Deir-El-Bahri Sailing  Aswan and Egypt generally.

Tuesday 26 March 2024

I’m standing up for …

… Hot Cross Buns.  I feel that something has to be said.  Read on …

I’m not running with my planned post for today.  It’s not usual for me to write the kind of post I am setting out here today, either.  But there are times when even I feel that I must speak.  No matter how few or how many people are listening, I just have to say something.
I was in an outlet of that Giant European Supermarket (GES) the other day and picked up one of their leaflets detailing what special treats and offers were coming up in the next week.  I flicked through the leaflet to find they were running with the entreaty ‘Banish Basic Buns’.  Great marketing slogan, I thought.  Alliteration will always capture the eye and the mind, I said to myself.  But then I looked at the picture immediately above the slogan.  The photo showed a toasted Hot Cross Bun (HCB) slathered with butter.  The full horror of the meaning of that slogan suddenly became clear. Alongside the traditional Hot Cross Bun were others with white chocolate and red berries, then one with orange segments and dark chocolate.  There were more, but I just could not look any further.  Although not explicitly stated, the inference was absolutely and horrifically clear.
So, Mr GES, there are a few things that I would like to point out.  Firstly, according to my dictionary – the OED (that’s the Oxford English Dictionary, Mr GES, just in case you are unaware), the word basic means ‘forming an essential foundation or starting point’.  A basic item is something that is ‘fundamental.’  As the HCB is a fruited and spiced piece of dough, I’m afraid I have to disagree with your marketeer who designated it as ‘basic.’  Removing the spices and fruit without replacing them with something else would return the dough to its basic state.  So, as you seek to ‘Banish Basic Buns,’ I am obliged to ask if you have removed every single plain dough bread cake in your stores yet?  After all, to achieve your marketeer’s ultimate goal, that is what you would need to do, otherwise accusations of hypocrisy could be levelled.
Secondly, what is so wrong with the HCB that you feel it needs to have other ingredients added or spread on it?  Are you purchasing your HCBs from the right supplier, Mr GES?  If not, then perhaps your buyer needs encouragement to shop around or possibly even needs to be replaced with someone who fully understands the combination of spice and fruit that makes a HCB the fabulous treat that it really is.
Lastly, Mr GES, are you aware of the historical significance of this spicey little British bun? Spiced and fruited breads/cakes have been around for millennia in various guises worldwide. The earliest mentions of what we now call a HCB here in the UK date from the Middle Ages. Later, in the 16th century, the HCB and other spiced breads were restricted for sale by decree. Records from the 18th century relate to these tasty little sweetmeats, along with a rhyme that appeared in a London almanac as early as the 1730s.
So, Mr GES, in attempting to ‘banish’ the humble HCB in its traditional form, you are trying to succeed where centuries of others have failed.  In attempting to banish the HCB, you are making an assault on a little piece of British history and tradition.  How would you feel if I came to your country of origin and started campaigning for the eradication of the traditional sweetmeats that your fellow citizens have enjoyed for centuries? Would you just let that happen?
Just to be clear, Mr GES, I want to say that I am standing firmly and resolutely for the HCB in its traditional and utterly non-basic form.  I genuinely hope that other shoppers recognise that in chipping away at our HCBs, you are taking an axe to a part of our culinary history.

... just in case you were wondering, Mr Giant European Supermarket, no, I did not get the buns in the picture above from your outlet!

Addendum...

I am appalled to discover today that there is such a thing as a 'Hot Tick Bun' that has been developed by a frozen food store that has been in existence here in the UK since 1970.  Apparently, following a survey, a fifth (that's 20%) of their customers said they found the intersecting flour and water lines on Hot Cross buns offensive.  Really?!  So Mr Frozen Foods from the Seventies, what about the remaining 80% of your customers surveyed?  The inference is that they were happy with said intersecting lines, or at the very least had no view one way or the other.  Perhaps, even more radically, they just liked the buns as they are.
So, just to reiterate, a Hot Tick Bun is not a Hot Cross Bun.  Equally, a white chocolate and berries or orange and dark chocolate bun are not traditional Hot Cross Buns.  They, along with their savoury counterparts - and yes I know, how is it possible to have a Hot Cross Bun made with Chorizo and cheese? - are Not Cross Buns, so please call them something else and stop messing with our traditional and absolutely gorgeously spiced and fruited bun that has a culinary history that is more than 600 years old.

Tuesday 19 March 2024

Please welcome, friend and author, Gianetta Murray ...

... to the blog this week.  Hi, Gianetta and thanks for making time to be here.  So, let's talk about your anthology.  When did you publish that?

GM Just before Christmas, I published a collection of humorous paranormal short stories titled A Supernatural Shingdig.  Probably should have pushed for Halloween based on the subject matter, but my annoying perfectionism reared its well-formed head!  The book contains fifteen tales involving ghosts, vampires, zombies, werecreatures, etc.  One of my favourites is a story completely written in dialogue between two archangels discussing what to do with the first prayer request from an AI system.
AW  Ah, yes.  I remember that one well, but I really enjoyed all of those stories and readers can find my review Here  What first got you into writing and why?
GM I’ve always been into it.  My parents saved a story I did in kindergarten written from the point of view of a thermos inside a lunchbox.  I was an English major, and I’ve spent my professional life as a technical editor/writer, librarian, and knowledge manager.  But always, at the back of my mind, was the urge to write fiction, to get stories out there and see if people would enjoy them.  There’s not much to enjoy about a technical manual, even a well-written one!
AW You write crime and supernatural/fantasy fiction.  Is it all imagination, or do you do research?
GM  I wish I could say more of it was imagination.  As a past librarian, research is my joy and I over-research everything to give me the confidence to sit down and write.  And a lot of the personal interaction in my books is based on my own experience, which is one of the advantages of starting to write later in life.  But I do find, now that I am writing, that my imagination is coming back to life.  I suppose it’s like a muscle: the more you use it, the fitter it gets.  Lots of things I’m reading or watching are giving me ideas to write about.
AW  Have you tried/dabbled with other genres or writing for other forms of media?
GM I’ve written very technical white papers, lots of website copy, newspaper articles, and scripts for videos selling semiconductor programming tools.  I’ve also got a bag full of stories in various genres written in classes and seminars, just waiting for me to revisit them.  But basically, I can only write about things that interest me, and evidently that’s mysteries with a humorous and/or paranormal element to them.  I’ve been married for half my life, so writing about the first excitement of romance might stretch my new imaginative powers.  Then again, I’ve never actually murdered anyone either, yet my first murder mystery comes out in June, so who knows?
AW  Famous authors such as Roald Dahl and Dylan Thomas had a special space for writing. Do you have a writing shed of your own?
GM
  If only!  When COVID hit, my husband and I took turns sharing our home office, which I’d decorated in all things Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  But when I quit my job to write a couple of years ago I ceded it to him as the sole breadwinner.  So I write at the dining room table, which fortunately we rarely use.  I do face the conservatory, where I can still look out on greenery and wildlife.
On the plus side, the office desk is over a radiator and my husband is frequently disturbed by the cats sleeping on his laptop and getting fur between the keys.
AW  And finally, if you had a whole afternoon to yourself and could choose to spend it with any one individual, living or dead, or a character from a book, who would it be and what would you discuss?
GM  I used to get crushes on fictional detectives when I was younger and then was massively disappointed when I got to the end of the author’s work.  So I would have Josephine Tey’s detective Alan Grant over for tea or maybe a stroll next to a river.  He’s always just the right combination of politeness and practicality, and it would be fun to find out what he really thought about some of the characters in her books.  I’d also have to challenge him about his theory that he can identify criminals by their faces, which I don’t feel was a valid defense of Richard III in The Daughter of Time.

about the book …
A time-traveling senior citizen.  A ghostly eighteenth-century dandy.  A hippie with a genie.  A famous bon vivant with vampire trouble.  All these and more await you in this pageant of paranormal short stories set in locations around the world from Shakespeare's time to the present day.

about the author … Gianetta moved from California to England almost twenty years ago when she married an Englishman, and she now lives in South Yorkshire with said husband and two cats, Cordelia and Winifred.  She has worked for many Silicon Valley companies and as a librarian in the public, corporate, government, and university sectors of both countries. Despite her love of her new home, she still sometimes forgets the British pronunciation of basil and oregano, and refuses to say ‘aluminium’.  
The first in her Vivien Brandt mystery series, Moved to Murder, is scheduled for publication in June 2024 by Troubador Press.


You can follow Gianetta on her Website on Facebook and on Instagram and you can get her book on Amazon

 


 


Tuesday 12 March 2024

I'm reviewing Metropolitain ...

... by Andrew Martin.  Read on to find out what I thought ...

This book is subtitled, ‘An Ode to the Paris Metro’, which could not be a more fitting caption for this book.
The blurb tells the reader that Andrew Martin has been described as the ‘laureate of railways.’  Apparently, he has written several books about railways, all of which have escaped my notice until now.
Published in 2023, I first noticed this book because of an article in a newspaper.  It sounded interesting – and unlike another reviewer who awarded only one star because there were no pictures – I was not disappointed with my purchase.  The book came with me to France when I last visited and was read as I overlooked the Loire.  A Paris view would have been perfect, but unfortunately, the city was not on my list of destinations for that trip.
The book looks at the history, creation and development of Metro.  I was fascinated to discover the origins of the iconic Metro Station entrances, with their green railings and stylised flower motifs that I have always thought of as beautifully French.  It was also a surprise to find that the twin lights of the entrances have been compared to demonic ‘dragons’ eyes’ —  definitely not how I’ve ever thought of that ironwork lighting!
As a child, I remember being mesmerised by the London Underground every time we visited.  We always took the tube.  As an adult working in the city, I always travelled on the underground, but by then, it had lost its fascination.  The carriages were always crowded and uncomfortable, the intricacies of the tiled patterns signifying my stop to get off rather than an industrial piece of art to be noticed or appreciated.
Spring forward a few years, and during my time in Paris, I rediscovered my childish obsession with travelling by train underground.  On my journeys across the city then and since, I have always marvelled at the architecture, which uses Art Deco motifs to define the unmistakable style of the Metro.
Photo
courtesy of Pixabay
The book is not only a detailed history but also an appreciation of the art, style, and cultural importance of this form of transport in one of my favourite cities.
  The narrative flows easily across the pages, and the technical input is in clear, uncomplicated language.  Naturally, as I was reading the book, I had my map of the city beside me and often stopped to sort through my photographs to remind myself of what I might find at ground level at many of the stations mentioned.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book.  The wit, clear descriptions, and literary links made it a complete story — a story told with the skill and imagery of a natural poet.


If you enjoyed this post you might also be interested in my reviews of other books, such as :  
 

Tuesday 5 March 2024

Come and join me at the Local Writers' Book Fair ...

 ... in York.  Please read on for more details ...



On April 6th, there will be a Local Writers' Book Fair in York.

The venue is the FRIENDS MEETING HOUSE, Friargate, York (YO1 9RL).  This is situated close to the Coppergate Shopping Centre in the city.  And, as it's April, the timing is perfect for snapping up some books to take on holiday in the summer.

There will be lots of other authors there too.  I will have my Jacques Forêt Mystery stories with me which I'm happy to sign if required.  All six of these books are set in south-central France, with each book featuring a particular cosy crime for readers to solve along with Jacques and his business partner, Didier Duclos.

Also, I will have a supply of all three of the fabulous Miss Moonshine anthologies.  For me, it's great to have the opportunity to write something other than crime for a change.  So, if your taste is for romantic, heart-warming stories, then these collections - created by a group of nine northern writers -  are just what you need!  As it says on the cover of one of the books, once you've met Miss Moonshine, 'life may never be the same again.'



Finally, I will have the Seasonal Paths collections on my table, too - I'm back to crime for my stories in these books!  These three collections of multi-genre stories - Authumn PathsWinter Paths, and Spring Paths - are put together by a collaboration of nine writers that stretch across the Atlantic Ocean.  I will be able to introduce you to some new writers that perhaps you may not have come across before.


So, please do come along to the fair, which opens at 2.00 pm.  It will be great to see you there if you can make it ... 

Tuesday 27 February 2024

Please welcome, friend and author, Elisabeth Dunleavy ...

... to the blog this week. Hi, Elisabeth. Thanks for taking some time out to be here today. Tell me all about your latest release.


ED   No Way Home is a memoir based on my German mum and aunt’s diaries from 1945.

AW  Interesting, and what first got you into writing and why?

ED  I wrote diaries as a teenager and young woman. Over the years, I have written quite a number of poems. I first remember writing poems in 1982/3 when I was living and working as a nurse in South Africa. Poems about love, nature’s splendour or my observations of people/situations. I wrote for me, a literary snapshot of times in my life, which, when read years later, took me right back into the moment of writing and the circumstances that provided the inspiration. I didn’t write regularly, and certainly, when my children were young, it took a back seat—although I do remember writing a poem about how frazzled I felt at the end of the day, surrounded by dirty dishes and toys strewn across the floor!

I knew I had to tell Mum’s story even though she didn’t think it worth telling. She would not have agreed to it in her lifetime. When she died, six months after her sister, in 2020, I found their diaries and other family archive items, which I kept with me on ChristaBella and continued my family history research.

In November 2022, I began translating my aunt’s diary and signed up for an online writing course. Although it was more about self-publishing and SM marketing, I learnt a lot and had support and encouragement from a group of fellow aspiring authors, which did keep me going and eventually saw No Way Home published in September 2023.

Although there are sections of the book written by me, I feel a bit of a fraud because the main part of the book is the translation of the diaries—their words, not mine.

AW  Your book is a family memoir, and apart from the work on the translation, there must have been a lot of research, too. How easy or difficult was that?

ED   Once my interest in my German history had been sparked in my mid-50s, I had plenty of opportunities to talk to Mum about the people in her life as a youngster in Gleiwitz. She happily recounted stories about their life before the war, most of which is the first chapter of No Way Home.

Because of this, I was familiar with the names I came across when translating the diaries. My aunt had written a family tree back to my great-great-grandparents, and I found several formal portraits in a plastic wallet when clearing my aunt’s flat in Frankfurt in 2020. Some portraits were easy to identify; however, I sent some pictures to the V&A museum, asking them to date the portraits based on the clothes being worn. This was really interesting and allowed me to make an educated guess as to the identity of the remaining portraits.  The translation was difficult and time-consuming.

The German cursive handwriting was difficult to decipher—I used a magnifying glass to look at the strokes of the ink pen on the page to work out the letters- particularly ‘u’ ‘m’ ‘n’ ‘r’. Eventually, words and sentences emerged, and although I do speak German, I used internet translation tools if I didn’t understand. Of course, chatting with my siblings about the nuances of the language was invaluable. As the structure of the story emerged, I wanted to understand the ‘situation on the ground’ in more detail, never having studied WW2 at school. I felt context was lacking, so began using the internet and books to find out more. Aftermath by Harald Jahner was particularly helpful as it corroborated what I was reading in the diaries. I have referenced all the resources I used at the back of the book.
As well as diaries, there were letters written in old Sütterlin script—a totally different alphabet and even more difficult to decipher. I had to establish if copyright law would prevent me using a map found in my aunt’s diary, travelling to German National Library in Frankfurt to find out. The internet can only go so far! I travelled to Frankfurt with my four siblings to pay our respects to our aunt Ursula, who had died alone during the Covid pandemic. We had been unable to go altogether until April 2023.
Mapping the route of their separate journeys was also a challenge, not least because some of the places named in the diaries were now known by other names because borders had changed. German towns or areas now had Polish or Czech names. Using Google Maps allowed me to see the terrain in some places, which helped me picture how physically difficult the journey was under the circumstances—trying to get from A-B with little or no working transport infrastructure.
Sometimes, my research brought me to a dead end. That was difficult to accept, especially if I knew my mum would have had the answer since she was no longer here to ask.
I found my consolation in a quote from Mark Twain: ‘A successful book is not made of what is in it, but what is left out of it.’
AW And what about other types of writing? I know you write poetry, but are you intending to dabble with fiction at some point, perhaps?
ED Yes! Out of respect for my mum, my aunt and my family, I wanted No Way Home to be a factual account of that period in their lives. However, so many other unanswered, personal aspects were unearthed in the writing of No Way Home—there’s a thrilling novel right there! I’m excited, just thinking about it! Watch this space!
AW Famous authors such as Roald Dahl and Dylan Thomas had a special space for writing. Do you have a writing shed of your own?
ED  No, I don't have a shed!  I have a narrowboat! We live as continuous cruisers on our 57ft narrowboat ChristaBella, which means we travel on English canals and rivers. The longest we can stay is two weeks unless we’re in a marina. We decided not to travel as far in 2023, which meant I could be still and write instead of going along the towpath, opening and closing the locks every day. I translated/wrote at our dining table, sitting on raised, padded bench seats, similar to a caravan, with lovely countryside views out of the window or hatch. In order to prevent my neck hurting and my back aching, I set my iPad on top of the kitchen compost caddy, bringing it to my eye level. It was a game-changer! Earbuds were also invaluable, meaning Jim could listen to the radio without disturbing me. I like to work in silence. My other refuge, not often, was our bedroom, where the inspiration for a poem would sometimes come. Writing No Way Home was a completely consuming experience, in which I often worked with uninterrupted focus for hours on end.
Jim kept me fed and watered throughout and supported my endeavour to get my book published and launched by November 2023.
AW And finally, if you had a whole afternoon to yourself and could choose to spend it with any one individual, living or dead, or a character from a book, who would it be and what would you discuss?
ED This is a bit of an obvious one. I’d love to spend an afternoon with my mum and ask her why she couldn’t speak of her experiences in 1945, why she really came to England and was a man called Günter, possibly her cousin, her real first love. All my life, Mum only ever referred to having one cousin, Jochen. Then, a few months before she died, she told me she did, in fact, have another cousin called Günter. After she died, we found photos of a man called Günter in her bedside drawer, and later, letters between them and more pictures of them together, clearly in love with each other. The man in the photos has a strong family resemblance to my maternal great-grandmother, Martha Halamuda, whom you will have come across in the book.
The family dynamic was complicated by divorce and Günter’s father dying when he was 11 years old, after which Mum said she didn’t see him again. Or did she?
I have discovered so many similarities between my mum’s life and my own—I would love to talk to her, woman to woman, about all of that.

about the author… Elisabeth Dunleavy has researched and translated her German mother and aunt’s diaries to write No Way Home, her first self-published work.  A mother and grandmother, she retired from a 40-year career in healthcare in 2019, after which she worked in a French Ski Resort until the Covid pandemic began.  In 2021 she moved onto a narrowboat, ChristaBella, with her husband and explores the canals and rivers in England as a way of life. 

about the book… A personal account of separation in 1945 Germany; the physical and emotional journeys, made separately, by two sisters and their serendipitous reunion as a family. With themes of faith, philosophy and continuance, forced from their destroyed childhood home as girls, they become young women in a new world, their relationship forever changed.


You can read my review of the book Here and you can take a peek inside Here

You can follow Elisabeth on her Website and on Instagram

You can get the book on Amazon at Waterstones or Barnes and Noble

 

Tuesday 20 February 2024

I'm Off My Beaten Track in Egypt...

... and heading further south to Aswan in the pages of my journal today.  Join me and my fellow travellers as we reach one of the last of our destinations...

BEGINNING OF THE END

For a change breakfast is leisurely. No rushing off at dawn to beat the sun and see another temple, monument or ancient site. I can dawdle over my sweet bread roll and I can have three or four cups of coffee. Not that the coffee is that good. In fact, it's worse than awful, like the wine. But as a strict coffee-only person, when faced with the choice of seriously bad coffee or no coffee at all, I'll take the seriously bad coffee. During breakfast, we leave our moorings and continue on the last leg of our river journey to Aswan.
As we head further south the sailing is better as the river is deeper. On each bank, the Nile is flanked by desert and the sandstone cliffs, Gebel Silsila. In the cliffs are fissures and what appear to be entrances to yet more tombs.
Out on deck, watching our approach to Aswan, I remark to my Fellow Traveller (FT) M that this really is the beginning of the end. Quite naturally she disagreed at first. But then, having thought about it, she confessed that I was right. I watched as the crew made sure we were docked safely. Lunch next ...

... Aswan is the site of the Ancient red granite quarry and this is our first port of call. These quarries were in use from as early as 2600 BC. The granite, both red and black, was used by the 4th Dynasty Pharaohs for the pyramids at Giza. Here there is also an unfinished obelisk. It was abandoned because it split whilst it was being cut from the bedrock. I'm amazed at the size of it and wonder what tools had been used to fashion such a thing.
Next the High Dam. The installation is heavily guarded and we can only wander along one small stretch. Lake Nasser seemed to go on for miles and was a deep Prussian blue. It looked like the perfect place to swim. Our guide told us there are crocodiles. And so the search begins. But the crocs are obviously very shy or very lazy. I wonder what bait might tempt them out of their hiding place ... one of the more tiresome FTs, perhaps? The dreadful G— that everyone seems to have shunned. For some reason the short refrain 'Never smile at a crocodile' pops into my head. I glance around at my FT and mentally will some of them to smile! But to no avail. The crocs are clearly Divas.
Our next stop was the temple at Philea, a short ferry trip across the lake island of Agilka. The temple was moved, stone by stone, to its present location before the valley was flooded. The temple is dedicated to the goddess Isis who was worshipped until as late as 450 AD. The walls of the monument depict her great magical powers and, of course, there is a shrine to her beloved Osiris.
It is late in the afternoon and the sun is casting long shadows through the columns leading to the first pylon. There is yet another significant shift in the style of the art and decoration of the walls and columns. The pillars themselves are very simple, but they are decorated at the top by representations of not only papyrus and lotus flowers but palm leaves of various sorts. Here there is also graffiti from every succeeding century.
The vastness of Lake Nasser, Aswan.
The sun is beginning to set as we leave the island and take our boat back to the landing stage. It is very peaceful on the lake and I have come to realise that I don't want to go home. I want to see more, to take in as much as possible and I find myself scrutinising the other passengers, the passing scenery and every living creature that comes into view...

... the evening's meal is an Egyptian buffet. The food was tasty and varied, shame about the wine! After dinner, a group of us sit on the sun deck telling ghost stories.  My contribution is my version of a M R James tale as far as I could remember the details.  A perfect end to a perfect day.
 
If you enjoyed this post you might also enjoy my earlier posts about Cairo Giza Solar Sailing Tell-el-Amarna Assiut  Abu Simbel Deir-El-Bahri Sailing and Egypt generally - just click the links.

There will be more from my Egypt journal next month.  Watch this space!

 
 
 

Tuesday 13 February 2024

I'm reviewing A Supernatural Shindig ...

 ... an anthology of stories all created by Gianetta Murray.  Read on to find out what I thought ... 

A Supernatural Shindig is a collection of short stories all crafted by Gianetta Murray, a writer I have not encountered before.
As a reader and a writer, I love short stories.  A short story can perfectly fill the gap when you only have ten or twenty minutes to spare.  After all, when you’re waiting in a dental or medical surgery for your turn, a ripping read can take your mind off whatever might be your impending doom.  It also means you don’t have to talk to anyone else.  I so love that anti-social aspect of books!
As a writer, I really enjoy the stricture of creating a story in a fixed amount of words.  It means I can play with language because I have to make every word count.  I can also play with plot lines that I know just won’t make it into a novel.  And I can take liberties with characters I’m certain will never appear on the page in any other form.  Short stories provide so much room for the imagination and ideas that simply won’t fit anywhere else.
I’m very pleased to be able to say that Ms Murray appears to be having as much fun writing short stories as I do.  Every single one of the tales in this book is a little masterpiece all of its own.  We have ghosts and vampires, ghouls and zombies all wrapped up with a sharpness of wit that had me chuckling my way through the pages until the very last one.  So, I suppose it is quite fitting that this review is appearing for the first time today – the thirteenth!  A number that is generally regarded as suspicious.
There are fifteen little tales in this volume, and I’m confident that they will appeal to all readers, no matter what each reader’s usual and preferred genre of fiction.  Each story is unique in its setting, characters, and plot line.  They are cleverly put together, and the flow of the stories, from gentle wit to darker tales at the end, provides a logical progression through the book as a whole.  I can thoroughly recommend this selection of stories.
I understand this writer also has a novel that will be published later this year.  I will be looking out for that.  I hope she goes on to write yet more short stories, too.

You can follow Gianetta on her Website on Facebook and on Instagram 
You can get her book on Amazon

I am also very pleased to tell you that Gianetta has agreed to an author interview which you will be able to read next month.  Watch this space!

Tuesday 6 February 2024

Come stroll with me …

... through the town of Vernon today.  You might be surprised by what we find ...

With a population a little short of 25,000, Vernon sits on the banks of the river Seine about halfway between Paris and Rouen in the département of Eure (that’s 27 if you collect the numbers!).  There has been habitation here since at least the 8th century.  Back in 750, the town is mentioned in a document by Pépin le Bref, which translates as Pepin the Short.  Pepin was born in 714.  He became the first Carolingian King of the Franks in 751 and reigned until his death in 768.
Following the invasion of the Germanic-speaking Franks, who hung around for quite a while, Vernon suffered numerous subsequent battles and changes of ruler, even becoming part of an English territory for 34 years before being ceded to France in 1449.  At that time, Charles 7 occupied the French throne and had done so since 1422.  He is variously referred to as Charles le Victorieux (the Victorious) or Charles le Bien-Servi (the Well-Served).  Irrespective of his moniker, he became the King who saw the end of the Hundred Years War and, therefore, any further English claim to the throne of France.
The ancient heart of this town is now surrounded by modern suburbs, but I’m very pleased to be able to tell you that some of the original ancient buildings still exist.  As I’m camped in Pont de l’Arche, I approached the town from the northwest along the D6015.  As you travel, take care to note the view of the château at Gaillon which will be on your left as you are travelling towards Vernon.
The D6015 takes you straight into the suburbs and close to the centre of town.  I parked in a side street and walked the last 300 metres or so into the pedestrianised centre.  There are some fabulous shops and buildings, but what I want to show you today is the Le Vieux-Moulin (the Old Mill).  From the D6015, you can cut left down onto Quai Jacques-Chirac.  At this point, the Seine is wide and deep enough for massive river cruisers.  Keep walking until you get close to Pont Clemenceau.  From here, you can get one of the best views of the Old Mill on the opposite bank.
Construction of the mill began in 1600, and it is amazing that the building is still there as it appears to be suspended above the waters of the Seine with little support.  The location of the mill actually anchors the site of an earlier bridge that crossed the river at this point.  That bridge dated from the 12th century and was constructed for military purposes.  In the following centuries, the bridge was repurposed, and five flour mills sat along its length.  The one that can be seen today is the last of those.  In the 1600s, all of the mills relied on the flow of the river for power driven through the waterwheels, which, according to the info in the museum, could be altered in height depending on the water levels in the river.  In the mid-17th century, the bridge suffered damage because of a flood, and it and the mills were abandoned.  By the mid-19th century, when a new bridge was constructed a little further upstream, all that remained of the original crossing was the mill we see today and the remains of some of the original supports.

But there’s more!  The Old Mill survived the Franco-Prussion War and the Second World War.  Regrettably, the nearby second bridge did not, having had three further incarnations following damage from bombing and war.  That second bridge was finally and completely destroyed in 1944.
However,  the mill did not come out of the massive and sustained bombing of northern France in 1944/45 unscathed.  Following the cessation of war, the people of Vernon decided that the crumbling iconic structure had to be saved and preserved for future generations.
You can’t visit the Old Mill, but you can sit in the shade of a tree on the opposite bank, have lunch and wonder at the longevity of what is a beautiful but fragile-looking piece of architecture.



And that’s exactly what I did.  Lunch was an amandine - absolutely scrumptious - from one of the bakers in town.

You can join me on other strolls through the towns of Joinville Argentan or Pont de l'Arche  Just click the links...