482: Turkey for my birthday

I'm 71 years old today. Quite an achievement as so many people don't make it this far. I consider myself to be very lucky as I still have (reasonably) good health. To a large extent I ascribe that to keeping the brain and the body active. 

I remember Major Alan Bolger, RAPC, RIP, once saying to me, on my computer programming course in 1980, "Staff, you think differently to most people." I've always taken that as a compliment. I thought about that when I decided on a title for today's blog. "Turkey for my birthday" would mean, for most people, I think,  a trip to the nearest supermarket to buy said turkey. For me it meant flying to Istanbul, that vast cosmopolitan city that straddles Europe and Asia. 

I flew in, from Barcelona, om Thursday evening and will be here until next Wednesday soaking up the sights, and sounds, and smells, of this great city. It is such a melting pot of cultures, East and West, Christian and Muslim. Walking down the same street, at the same time, you might see a girl in a mini-skirt next to a lady covered from head to toe in a burqa. In a city of over 15 million people, high-rise flats dominate the skyline most of the way in from Sabiha Gokcen International airport (SAW)  almost 50 km to the SE of the city. There are other airports serving the city but this is the one Pegasus airlines fly into.. 

I spent the first night at ISG hotel, a short shuttle bus ride from the airport and yesterday took public transport into the centre. I'm staying in the 3* boutique hotel Fehmi bey in the Sultan Ahmet area of the city. It's just after 5 a.m. (I woke up early) and I can clearly hear the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer. This, apparently, is going to happen 5 times a day. (dawn, noon, mid-afternoon, sunset and nightfall).  It's OK, not a problem.

The jewel in the crown of the hotel Femhi Bey is the roof terrace, where one goes for breakfast, and an evening beer. A tremendous view over the Sea of Marmara, where there are tens of boats and ships  lying at anchor and there are ferries weaving in and out to destinations far and near. The Sea of Marmara, as you may know, links to the Aegean Sea and thence to the Mediterranean and, in the opposite direction, via the Bosphorus, to the Black Sea. Here also, flowing under the famous Galata bridge, is the Golden Horn. Ah, the Galata bridge. I must make my way there and pay the inflated tourist prices for a meal in one of the many fish restaurants under the bridge. 

I'm looking forward to the next few days, people watching and visiting a few of the many cultural attractions. And no visit to Istanbul is complete without a boat trip on the Bosphorus. I mentioned earlier that the Bosphorus links into the Black Sea. On the North of which sits Ukraine, which that monster Putin is slowly reducing to rubble. It seems a world away from here but is less than 1,000 kilometres. 

Afternoon coffee (NOT Turkish!)	Desmond had a barrow in the marketplace	a (very) retro radio
The sea of Marmara	Meat in the pan. As good a place as any!	a birthday breakfast

481: The war between Russia & Ukraine

Russian troops invaded Ukraine on 24th February 2022 as part of what Putin called a "special military operation". Ever since then they have been bombarding towns and cities thereby killing men, women and children indiscriminately. NATO and 'the West' have sent arms and ammunition to Ukraine but have refrained from putting boots on the ground, or planes in the air, for fear of starting World War III. Whether 'we' will get dragged into the conflict, either by weight of public horror at what is happening, or by some trigger-happy Russian accidently shooting down one of the reconnaisance planes constantly patrolling the Poland/Ukraine border, or even as a result of the madman in the Kremlin launching either nuclear or chemical weapons, remains to be seen. 

Almost everybody in the world is praying for peace, and an end to the barbaric slaughter of innocent people. Humanitarian aid is being offered to the millions of Ukrainian women and children who are leaving their country to seek refuge in one of the countries bordering Ukraine. All of those countries are now struggling to cope with the sheer weight of numbers looking for food and shelter.

Naturally, everbody wants to do something to help Ukraine in its hour of need. I have offered my services, as a very old Russian interpreter, to the UK MOD. I'm reasonably sure they won't call for me unless or until they are scraping the bottom of the barrel but British military Russian speakers are thin on the ground and you can't just pluck somebody off the street and turn him/her overnight into a soldier with military skills and with the ability to speak Russian. As the old Russian saying goes "На безрыбье и рак - рыба" (literally where there are no fish, even a crab is a fish, or, in other words, in the kingdom of the blind the one-eyed man is king.) So, I've dusted off my old uniform and, somewhat surprisingly, discovered it still fits. 

The one-eyed man (not really, waiting for an op!)

To change the subject to one more palatable, yesterday was the vernal equinox, the day when the Northern Hemisphere starts to tilt towards the sun and the days become longer and sunnier. Here are the daffodils in my garden. Welcome to Spring everybody! Relax with Vivaldi's Spring.  

 

480: Destination unknown

 

Came across this during my walk on Friday and it set me thinking... Destination unknown

The final destination is unknown for all of us. Where will we be 'when the music stops'?? What country? The country of our birth or some foreign field?  Will we be in our own home, surrounded by family & friends, or in a hospital or care home? Will we still be 'compos mentis' or will we have 'lost the plot'? Nobody can know the answer to these questions as our life unfolds and draws to an inexorable close. And after that? Those of us lucky enough to have Faith can look forward to an after life in eternity. For unbelievers there is really nothing to look forward to. Just THE END. Конец фильма!

The walk was part of a recce. I wanted to explore (some of) the area between Hospitalitet de L'infant and Cambrils. Google maps suggested a 3-hour walk but by the time I'd walked from the railway station into town I knew I wouldn't have enough oomph left for another 3-hours. I did, however, walk from Hospitalitet into Miami Playa where I had a very nice lunch and caught a bus home. That's what recces are all about - finding out what can, and what can't, be achieved. Next time, perhaps tomorrow, I know I can catch a bus from Cambrils to Hospitalitet and then walk the 3 hours back. 

I'd heard of 'whiskey in a jar' but beer?

2 Russians appeared from nowhere. I surprised them when I said "Приятного аппетита"

479: The green-eyed monster

Jealousy is the green-eyed monster. Apparently first coined by William Shakespeare in Othello in 1604. It's not something that usually bothers me - I'm a happy-go-lucky kind of person who is generally quite happy with his lot in life.

BUT, and isn't there always a BUT, today I found myself in Tarragona and went for a wander around the harbour. Looking at the beautiful yachts that were moored there. It set me thinking about capitalism and socialism and where is the fairness in this world when some people can own enormous yachts like this and others are begging for scraps on the streets of every town and city in the world.

Socialism, and equality for everyone, is a fine ideal which, unfortunately, doesn't work very well.There will always be some people who work harder and some people who are inherently idle. If only we could differentiate between those who can't help themselves (and are therefore worthy of our help) and those who won't help themselves and rely on others to spoon-feed them. 

And I'm certainly not saying that all the owners of these yachts got them by virtue of sheer hard work. You can work hard all your life and save every penny you've ever earned and still not be in the super yacht league. They will have found a different way to climb the rungs in the ladder of life and have ended up nearer the top of the ladder than I have.

So yes, for a few moments, I was green with envy. But, thank goodness, I soon got over it, and counted my blessings: intrinsic happiness, good family and friends, a roof over my head, and good health. Money isn't everything. (Says everybody who doesn't have much of it.)   

And finally, Rest in Peace, Bamber Gascoigne. The genial host of University Challenge from 1962-1987 - died today aged 87

478: 6 different beds in 7 nights!

A lot, even for me. Tuesday – Golspie, Wednesday – Inverness, Thursday & Friday – Ramsey, Saturday – Dartford, Sunday – Gatwick, Monday – Salou. And RELAX.

It was all part of the grand plan to get back to Spain, and some winter sun. On the way I visited my sister and her boyfriend, and enjoyed coffee and cake in Welling with a cousin I hadn't seen for a couple of years. Ron knocked up a lovely dinner in his wok. Spicy chicken & prawns. Hazel seems to have (finally) landed on her feet as her boyfriend does (almost) all of the cooking.

On Sunday I met No.1 daughter in the Union Jack club in Waterloo. We had a great walk and talk along the South Bank, past the National Theatre, the Tate Modern, the Globe Theatre and the Golden Hind and then went for a wander around Borough Market. A lovely place for what is now called 'street food' and for spices and cheeses and all sorts of things. We had lunch in a Spanish restaurant on the edge of the market and a gimmick was for the waitress to come and mix up my 'huevos rotos'. Of course, Morag (aka Mo) took the opportunity to ask if I was now of an age to need all my food chopped up! Thanks Morag. Back to the UJC for dessert and then we went our separate ways, Mo back to Oxfordshire and me on to Gatwick. 'Adventures' for both of us: she missed the train to Didcot that she wanted and I took a train to Clapham Junction to be told I would be better going back to Waterloo and travelling via London Bridge. Oh well, we both got where we needed to be, albeit a little later than planned.

UJC is a great place to meet because there is every chance of meeting people you served with. And so it transpired on this occasion. It was good to see Rob, whom I hadn't seen for more than 15 years. The last time (and the first time) we served together was on a very short Russian language refresher course in Moscow. Rob reminded me that we stayed in the Marco Polo hotel. Those were the days, when the MOD paid for the trips. When I was paying for my own accommodation I would stay in Izmailovskiy where the complex of hotels, built for the Olympics in 1980, was known locally as АБВГДка. I managed to politely decline the 'special offers' made to me in the late evening phone calls.  

A couple of pictures from my day in London, including the 'huevos rotos' (literally broken eggs).

 Happy Chinese New Year (year of the tiger).

477: Pieces of eight

This is me after the cataract operation on my first eye. The operation was very successful and, with my left eye, I can now see further than I have ever been able to. Until the operation on the second eye I have one eye that sees things in the distance and one that sees things very close up. The patch goes from eye to eye depending on where I want to look. Sometimes I move the patch above the eyes to the centre of my head and turn into a cyclops.  I have an optician's appointment one week today and, hopefully, he/she will refer me back to the hospital for an operation on the second eye.

In the meantime I'm currently in the North of Scotland acting as "duty driver" on the daily run to Migdale hospital in Bonar Bridge. A few pics from yesterday's walk in the nearby Balblair woods.

  

To finish, a tribute to Meatloaf, who passed away yesterday. Almost 30 million views on You Tube. A mark of the man and his music.

476: three out of four ain't bad - mustn't grumble

I flew back to UK unexpectedly, and at very short notice, for a hospital appointment. Buying the flight ticket 2 days ahead of the flight, instead of weeks in advance, made my eyes water! 

So, with a 'spare' week in UK, I decided to visit London and spend the night in my club. I was early for lunch with my sister so enjoyed a walk along the South Bank.

Old Father Thames, looking rather dirty	Sculptures, with shiny breasts, in front of the National Theatre. The breasts have obviously been touched up a lot. For good luck!
This looks like a fun place to eat	and so does this

I love 'killing two birds with one stone'. On Friday and Saturday, I tried to achieve four tasks while I was out. Unfortunately I was unsuccessful with donating my 75th pint of blood. They refused to accept my blood on the grounds that I have a cataract operation scheduled for 6th January. A WHOLE MONTH AWAY. I was more than a little disappointed at their decision. I think somebody has been over zealous in their risk analysis. But there was no way they were going to change their collective mind. so, off to the fourth appointment. My son and I had arranged to meet in 'Tom's Cakes' in Cambridge. Sadly, 'Tom's Cakes' Cambridge is no more, although he has opened branches in Ely and St Ives. The situation was resolved when we were invited in to St Barnabas church on Mill Road for free coffee and mince pies. Who can say no to mince pies, especially free ones? It appears that Gareth can, so I had to force myself to eat his as well as mine. The sacrifices you make for your children...

London Lunch with Hazel Dinner with Sara ✅ ✅ Cambridge Give blood Coffee & mince pies with Gareth ❎ ✅

Finally, I always know Christmas is just around the corner when I hear Jona Lewie singing 'Stop the Cavalry'.