Mulling it Over

One minute I am sitting in my cosy 3rd floor tenement flat in Edinburgh with a south-facing view of the Pentland hills, the next, I am freezing my nippies off in an old cottage on the Island of Mull! How on earth did that happen? Like this... Firstly I blame having too much time on my hands and the Internet. Having given up my job and determined to become a painter, Paul and me erected a garden shed for my studio in a corner of our communal garden with the blessings of our lovely neighbours. This along with my OU studies still allowed time for my furtive mind to cause mischief and with Paul wanting to escape wedding photography for a while, this gave me the excuse to peruse the Internet for inspiration for change. Maybe we could plan our next adventure, another big trip on our bikes pedaling off into the horizon was becoming extremely tempting. Paul was the only one sensibly earning a living and my savings were dwindling fast so we had to do something soon as our rented flat, lovely although it was, was costing us an arm and a leg to live in.

One day whilst drifting through websites advertising caretaking jobs I found the 'Helpx' site and the beginning of a daily ritual of searching for work on Homestays or organic farms in a nice, warm and sunny country, New Zealand was on my wish list [once again] and perhaps southern France in the Midi-Pyrenees coming a close second, oh then maybe Portugal...or a Greek Island looked very tempting, hey and how about Tasmania? I threw all these ideas daily over to Paul who, after a couple of weeks was ready to implode. My wacky ideas and the speed of my change of continent was becoming all too much for him, he's a steady guy, he needs time to 'mull things over', at times he just stared at me in utter amazement, 'how on earth can you decide on New Zealand one day and then almost in the next breath sing the virtues of moving to Costa Rica or Mexico the next? Easy I say, its the alluring sunshine [it was the middle of a Scottish winter at this time] or was I so desperate to avoid reality that I had entered the land of no return. Hmm, well I suppose I was being a little extreme at times but everywhere looked so tempting and for 20 hrs work either pruning kiwi bushes or cleaning a backpackers you had accommodation and food, it just felt so free from the stresses of trying to live a 'normal life'. I hold my hands up, I'm useless, just an old daydreaming airy fairy.

Paul pulled the rug, there was no way he would consider living anywhere too far away from his mum or anywhere that didn't speak English....how adventurous is that I thought to myself and mumbled aloud, the man I met nearly 10 years before was a travelling free spirit, so what happened to him? 10 years was what happened to him I concluded and instead of being the young adventurer of 30 he was now nearly 40 and looked set for pipe and slippers unless I took control of the situation fast. The spring and summer of 2010 came and went,we took an ill-afforded trip to the Pyrenees for Paul's 40th Birthday in July just to keep him away from the pipe and slippers and I thought that he might just catch the bug for adventure again. We had a grand time, even though I managed to contract an inner each infection before we left which gave me vertigo and a spinning head for the whole 2 weeks which was pretty scary whilst clinging to the edges of snow-capped mountains... the thought did occur to me that maybe I should get the pipe and slippers for myself as my track record for catastrophes whilst travelling were mounting high.

We returned refreshed but still in limbo for our future life plans but I had 2 weeks of catching up to do on the Helpx website, would there be something waiting there for us I wondered? We had decided whilst away that we would hand in our notice on the flat by the end of September no matter what, it was already the beginning of September and every option I put to Paul drew a shake of the head or a scowl. Then it appeared, a hostel looking for helpers on the island of Mull just off the Scottish west coast, then another appeared on the Mull of kintyre, then to top it all and what looked the most tempting, a hostel on the island of Iona, just off from the Isle of mull. Things do certainly come in threes, This time Paul did not scowl or shake his head but had a faintly curious look with an eyebrow twitching at the Iona proposal. Unfortunately we were pipped at the post for Iona, We paid a visit to Mull and the island was a stunner, the location of the Hostel was perfect but we had to think long and hard before committing ourselves.

We returned to Edinburgh, gave in our notice and negotiated terms for moving to Mull. We never worked at the Hostel, we ended up caretaking four holiday cottages and doing up the big main house all on the same estate and having a little cottage thrown in. God knows how that happened but it did, we arrived a week before Christmas, digging out our new and yet untried postman pat van from the 10 days of snowfall on our Edinburgh kerbside and bulging at the seems and buckling under the weight of our worldly possessions we arrived on a dark and frozen evening to slide into our new home on Mull. It is now April, the sun is shining but it hasn't been plain sailing, we have worked pretty hard to make the cottages fit to let and the bookings were flowing in thick and fast, we shivered and froze for what seemed an interminable time having to deal with frozen water pipes, collecting water from the stream for cleaning the cottages and then when the thaw came, so did the burst water pipes. The cottages had not been cleaned for what looked like years and needed a face lift with a few dabs of paint here and there but we did them all before they were due to be let in February and are now working to a May deadline for the large main house. Its not been easy and especially for Paul who had never washed a wall before let alone scrub a whole house from top to bottom. I know that he doesn't really feel its the thing for him and I'm sure before long, wedding photography will appear most glamorous again and after all, he is rather good at it. Me I'm just a natural born scrubber I'm afraid, my own artwork has gone on the back boiler as there is no way of keeping me indoors on a day off after being in a twilight zone of cif cleaner and gloss paint for days on end.

But hey, spring is here, the days are longer and warmer at last, we live on the most scenic island with so much still to explore, we have no bills to pay except our food. I make bread and cakes again after a lapse of several years, Paul is making his home brew beer, we have plenty of free time now to enjoy and there is a long summer ahead of us. Its not quite the New Zealand experience I was hoping for but it was certainly worth mulling over.

Don't Panic!

It is almost a year since my mammoth marathon challenge and you may be wondering what has been 'happning man' since, well are you? good, then I will endeavour to tell a few tales of highs and lows of the past 12 months. Of course it won't be all in one sitting and it may go on a bit but at least you can pop back now and then for a little snippet or two and at least you haven't got the embarrassing task of acting interested whilst I waffle on endlessly to you face to face, now that's a bonus believe me.

So, where on earth do I begin? Well I will start by telling you that until a couple of days ago I was signed up again for this years Edinburgh marathon race, I kept this a bit of a secret from Paul as I didnt want him to anticipate the trauma of enduring my moans, groans, aches and more groans throughout my training time. As it happens though, your plans for life and life's plans for you, somethings just dont always go 'to plan'.

In november Paul and me headed out to Nepal for 5 weeks of mountain trekking in the Himalayas. Paul had worked a hectic year with his wedding photography and I had just finished my exams for my 3rd yr Open Uni degree, so we were really excited about returning to Nepal, this would be our 4th trip since 2001. We had researched and planned a 2 week trek around Manaslu and continuing along parts of the Annapurnas for another 10 days.

Manaslu is 'still' relatively free from tourists but is on the cusp of change, Much due to I feel, the problems arising in the Annapurnas, the beautiful but often very crowded 'Annapurna Circuit' and 'sanctuary' treks have gained some controversy over road building projects which now enable visitors, and of course locals alike, to practically drive the circuit apart from over the Thorung La pass and a few of the higher places around Manang. All this means many disgruntled trekkers who valued the off the beaten track appeal now searching further afield. Manaslu is the neighbouring mountain range and the valleys all link up with paths already. I sensed whilst there that we had trekked Manaslu at a golden time, selfishly wanting it to remain the unspoilt place that it is. Anyway I will not enter the politics of tourism versus improvements for local communities as it will lead me off on many a tangent. Perhaps for another time.

Like I said, this was to be our 4th trip and all of them have been about trekking to high altitudes of five and half thousand meters, some a little more. Me and altitude are not good companions, this doesn't mean that I suffer the normal symptoms of altitude sickness but I seem to have my own 'bespoke' ailments that have baffled the medical staff that I have encountered. When the air is thin, [ lacking in oxygen ] everyone feels breathless with the slightest physical exertion, its hard to walk at any pace than a tortoise and trying to talk the same time is out of the question. Nights are blessed with erratic sleep patterns as your breathing stops, then you gasp and wake up then fall back to sleep again only to have the same gasping breath again and again, weird dreams and well, you wake up, [even though you haven't really slept] feeling dreadful. Then you have the delights of shoving on your backpack to continue the ascent, oh and I forgot to say, its bloody freezing at night, actually as soon as the sun goes down around 5 to 6 pm, on go the woolies and 'down' jacket.
So yes this is the usual experience for everyone, but on top of that you can get very poorly if you ascend too quickly that your body does not oxygenate sufficiently and you are dehydrated which is easy in the dry air with your body working overtime, a poor diet and having to filter water to drink.
Symptoms of altitude sickness often begin with headaches and nausea with a high heart rate that do not abate at rest. When this occurs it is very wise to descend at least to your previous nights stop and if all is well after a rest day you can gently ascend again.
For me, I have never experienced such symptoms but no matter which way I approach my walking in altitude [and believe me I have endeavoured to keep myself as healthy as possible]
I end up with the same problems. I start to feel week and very breathless, my heart racing and leaping about all over the shop, then I just come to a standstill, unable to put one foot in front of the other, it is hard to describe the feeling but you become quite spaced out and just want to lay down [even in the middle of the track]. I really thought that I could conquer this and even though the past experiences had been really horrid and scary, my goldfish brain manages to forget it and off I go on another high altitude expedition!
All was well, we had reached our camping spot at 4,500m and although it was slow going for me I felt OK with just the normal breathlessness. The next morning we rolled out of our frozen tent, packed up and headed up to the Lark ya-la pass at 5, 310m which is lower than many I had walked before but my god, it was one of the hardest days I have ever encountered and the last 200m to the top of the pass felt like a never ending hell, I could hardly walk but I could not face going back either which was a much further distance. Paul reached the top and then returned and insisted on carrying my pack the last 50m as by this point I was a mere walking zombie and could only do about 10 slow motion paces at a time before I conked, but I got to the top, we rested a while and I tried to take in the scenery which was pretty splendid. After a long rest we continued slowly down, we had no choice but to go slow, the path was extremely steep and snow and ice-covered and having taken so long to get this far, the sun had melted the surface into a skating rink. we didn't have crampons but thankfully had sticks to aid our journey down to Bhimtang at 3,800m where a couple of lodges lay in wait. Now the strange thing is that all my symptoms vanish as soon as I am descending, no exertion I guess but we had the longest and arduous day ever in my books and we got to Bhimtang in the dark. We were elated and ate our dhalbat and drank our drinks with a siege mentality. I slept so well and the next day we sprang down the valley with renewed vigour and enjoyed every moment absorbing the landscape of woods, rivers and mountain vistas.
The next day we reached the part of the journey where the path crossed the bridge and joined the lower part of the Annapurna circuit and we felt like we had arrived in asome cosmopolitan town. Dharapani had hoards of hotels offering hot showers and a food menu to die for. We had only walked a couple of hours that morning to reach Dharapani where we would say farewell to Tikka our guide and rest up for a couple of days before heading out to Pokhara via a route which would take us along the lush middle hills and valleys making a contrast to the high mountain terrain.
We were now at 1900m and well out of the altitude zone but all was not well. After a hearty breakfast we ventured the couple of hundred metres to the little village store for shampoo and soap, I developed all the symptoms of being up in 5000m, I just conked out and just sat down on a rock unable to move, feeling that it could be low sugar, Paul returned to the little shop for chocolate, it made no difference so I slowly returned the few metres to the hotel and went to bed. later that day I got up and ate some food and drank, thinking that I could be dehydrated but I just felt ridiculously breathless and my heart just seemed to beat peculiarly. I felt very uncomfortable and unsure what we should do Paul went to the village to find a doctor. He arrived but spoke little English, he told me my blood pressure was quite low [it usually does drop in altitude] and gave me re-hydration salts. I drank them in a litre immediately and through the rest of the evening and next morning sipped away but I wasn't getting any better and by the 3rd day I was in fact worse and took to bed where I felt like I was going to die, I could not even lift my hand to hold a drink, I developed spasms in my legs and lower body and my heart would not stop racing, it was horrid and I felt scared. Much to our dismay we had left our insurance emergency contact card in Kathmandu, very clever eh!, Paul by now in a state of despair in seeing the conditon I was in rushed to the local conservation office where there was a telephone and tried to get help from the officers there but they just shrugged and were most unwilling to help, they didn't have any emergency rescue numbers but thankfully Paul spotted the British Embassy number for Kathmandu pinned up by a trekker on the notice board. [thank you so much whoever you were]. They were brilliant and immediately found our insurance number online and telephoned them. They responded and organized a helicopter rescue, there was no other way out of the mountains as the road end was a few days away.
Meanwhile back in my room I was secretly saying my prayers and actually saying my goodbyes as I really thought I was popping me clogs. It was now 3pm, the emergency had started at 10 am, we were told that if the helicopter did not get to us before 4pm they would have to wait til the morning as the cloud would be too dense for them to attempt to fly. I was carried by the Sundar the hotel manager and a porter out to the school field where they would land, Paul carrying the 2 backpacks. By now I was starting to feel a little better but very week. We sat on a wall and waited, and waited, the minutes ticked by until it was 4pm and no sign of the helicopter, more time passed and hearts were sinking fast, at 20 past, Sundar and the porter decided to go back to the hotel to find out if there was any news. Paul and me sat huddled watching the thick clouds roll in up the valley. 'they are coming they are coming!' Sundar was shouting and with that we heard the sound of the rotor blades. In a cloud of dust they dropped down and we crawled down under the blades and hurled ourselves inside covered in lumps of the whisked up grass and dirt, there was no stopping at this hour of the day, they had to get back out of the narrow valley and down to Kathmandu fast.
Well if I don't die of whatever I'm suffering from the helicopter may just finish us off, these were my bleary thoughts as we flew in thick cloud with no visibility except the odd peep of the gigantic mountainsides which looked touchable from where we sat. an hour and a half later we were being driven by ambulance through the dust and chaos of the Kathmandu streets to the hospital.

As you can see, I survived to tell all, albeit briefly as there was a lot more to the story.
To sum up though, I stayed in the hospital for 2 days and nights, that was an experience which I wish not to repeat which I will describe another time. I left with the doctors unable to find anything wrong but suggested that it may have been exhaustion.
Our holiday still had another 10 days left so after a couple of days we decided to get out of the Kathmandu pollution and go to Pokhara where I could convalesce, I was still feeling very breathless with the slightest amount of walking, after the mad 8 hour bus journey to Pokhara, I insisted on Paul going off to do a few days walking, after all I was now in a comfy hotel with telephone etc. I would be fine, and I was, I just pottered around every day, eating loads and regaining my strength.
So what was it all about? you may be asking, I was asking myself the same thing when after a month of returning home We set off for a day in the snowy Scottish mountains where to my utter disbelief I encountered the same symptoms, heart leaping, legs coming to a halt and feeling dreadful. thinking I may have a heart problem or something peculiar I saw my own doctor the next day, she booked me an appointment with the cardiologist, but a week later after seeing the nurse for blood tests, I was walking in town and came to a halt again, I had to sit on the pavement and eventually got myself to a the nearest shop and they called me a taxi to take me back to the doctors, this was crazy, what was happening to me, I have never had to call a taxi in my life, I walk or cycle everywhere but I couldn't even get myself to the nearest bus stop, my heart was racing I thought I was going to pass out or even worse drop dead! My doctor sent me off to hospital but by the time I got there I was fine again, this was weird. The doctor there did all the necessary tests and more chest xrays looking for blood clots etc but nothing showed.
I was kitted up with a heart monitor for 24 hrs and launched myself up the Pentland hills to give it a good test, I felt fine. but on some occasions over the following weeks I would wake up feeling 'not quite right' and sometimes when I attempted to walk up the road to the shops, the symptoms would start, only mildly but I would scamper back home just in case and to be honest I was afraid every time I went out. I wanted to find out what was going on so turned to the Internet, put in my symptoms and up came Panic Attacks. Paul's sister, a nurse had suggested this as a possibility but I couldn't relate to it until I read on...yes, this was it I WAS, I felt sure, having panic attacks, albeit my initial symptoms in the mountains may have been triggered by exhaustion but the trauma had set off a pattern of bodily responses to me getting out of breath. It all made perfect sense to me even though everyone I knew said that I was not a 'panicky' kind of person, I felt that this was it. I began to work on the advise offered and it helped me.
When I saw the cardiologist a month later who had all the results and case history and was baffled, I put the panic attack theory to her, 'well it could be that but you don't come across as a panicky type of person to me' was her response. Yes I know, but is there a 'panic attack' type of person? I had by now read so many accounts from a wide eclectic mix of people of their experiences that I felt that the subject was not fully understood by the majority of people and even the medical profession had not suggested it to me.
I silently worked with my gut instincts and slowly but surely I built up my confidence, I diverted my panicky feelings but did not shut them off or block them but grew to understand my physical irrational responses to situations, the more I spoke with people, even in my immediate family, the more people spoke about their own panic attacks...there is a lot of it about but we just don't know whats happening to us.
It is August and I am now panic free but it doesn't mean to say that they could not return but at least now I wont 'panic over them'.
If anyone reading this is suffering the same and feel they need to talk about it with someone, please feel free to get in touch, I think it is something that most people would keep secret from others, feeling ashamed or they really dont know what is happening. But it is a real disabling thing and takes away so much freedom and choice turning many lovely people with so much ability into a recluse, living in fear because that's what you feel like when the adrenaline button switches on at the wrong moment and sets your heart thumping around all over the shop.

I didn't quite make the marathon as you probably would have guessed but I am back running again for pleasure and to wear off all the cakes and chocolate that I adore eating. My goldfish brain is still with me and we booked another trip to mountians but this time they were under the 3,000 metre mark in the Pyrenees in France, so I'm learning. I won't be venturing any highter than this in the future but thats fine, theres a vast array of mountains out there to explore.

Running the Edinburgh Marathon 09

My Blogging turned to jogging over the winter months...read on to find out what I was running for.

The Beginning: My mum was diagnosed with RA in her late forties. Now 67yrs of age she has been quite poorly with it, curtailing her movements so much so that she finds it extremely painful and hard to pick things up with her hands and just doing the normal every day chores that we all take for granted. It takes her hours to get moving in the mornings and that's often after very uncomfortable sleepless nights of awful aching pain. Yet she is the most uncomplaining lovely person that I have ever known. I'm now 44 yrs old and it was quite scary to think it was quite possible that soon my life could dramatically change for the worse with something like RA which appears to come totally out of the blue and not really bothered what age its victims are;[ actually to call it arthritis is a little misleading, it is associated with the bodies defence mechanisms, a sort of auto-immune disease. Many theories have arisen through research by the medical profession or others who have a personal interest in not only finding a cure but also finding out how it occurs].... But I know for a fact that I would be the worse patient in the world.... everyone would definately hear me complaining!!Apart from being a potential complainer my other habit is that I always have to think of mad things to do with my spare time, I get fidgity. Why can't I just go for a nice stroll in the park, snuggle up with a good book or even watch telly for heavens sake? No, thats far too straight forward. So I guess it was in one of those 'fidgity' moments that I ended up on the telephone to my sister Nicki in Looe, Cornwall last november asking her whether she fancied doing the Edinburgh marathon with me....there was a pause................ long enough to think that she had just hung up on my nuisance call, then she hesitantly said, 'well, I suppose I could, and after all if you're doing it for mum then well yes, definately count me in! Ten minutes later she rang back, 'Jim (her husband) said that he's up for it too'. so then there were three.


The Training: Training started at the end of November and the beginning of a long cold, snowy winter in Scotland with dark mornings and darker evenings. It was hard to get out there at the end of the day to grunt my way into some kind of shape and on many occasions a pair of ski's complete with down jacket and fur-lined gloves would have been more apt. Luckily I had a few day sessions and the weekends to run in so I could at least see where I was going on occasions. But the winter soon turned into spring, albeit a cold and frosty one, the days stretched out and I stretched out my runs. Nicki and Jim were well into their routines back in Looe and we would phone each other to compare aches and pains and the mental challenge we had to face to get ourselves out there running the roads. We all had our set-backs with injuries, winter colds and work commitments but we stuck with it as the big day drew ever closer.

The Big Day: Sunday 31st may 09, Edinburgh marathon day. Up to this weekend the weather had been indifferent and pretty cold but this weekend it was a heatwave! [in Scotland??] We were up at 6.30am eating porridge laced with bananas, pecan nuts and honey just like the Three bears.Then it was a short drive to the centre of town and to where we would quickly find the toilets to relieve our full bladders [we only had a wee on leaving the house just 15 minutes ago!] then join ranks with the other crazy thirteen thousand or so runners. Into our 'slow pen' we were herded along with the relay teams and fancy dressers. The sun scorched down on us as we tried to shade ourselves behind a 6ft 7in man in front of us [thanks for keeping our drink bottles cool whoever you were] as we waited our turn to be let loose to the start line, 9.15am, with bladders already full again [it can only be psychosomatic!] we were off! The three of us had a big hug and planned to meet up at the end somehow.
There was no room for a while to start running but slowly the hoards of bodies began thinning out as everyone set gently into their pace.Neither Nicki, Jim or me had ever run with a crowd before or even in a race of any description and had never ran more than 18 miles in our training, so it was all new territory. I carried a small bottle of water with me and at every water stop and fuel station replenished with one to drink and one to pour over me, constantly telling myself to 'keep it real steady'. In fact I wasnt quite sure how to pace it but felt determined to run every step of the 26.2miles.
It was the halfway mark and I felt ecstatic, incredibly before my eyes the elite marathon professionals were already on the home straight, amazing stuff these guys and girls are made of. As I neared the 18 and 20 mile markers, the crowds were building, cheering, clapping and armed with jelly babies, wine gums, oranges and hosepipes of cooling water for us as we passed by, they were fantastic. Thanks to everyone of you and your smiling, cheering faces that spurred us on and got us through.
A few casualties of the heat were being tended to along the roadside here and there and kept me from getting too carried away and eccelerating to soon [I have been prone to such behavior] At the twenty six mile point I could not contain myself any longer and sprinted the last .2miles[that was the illusion but I'm sure it was just a fast hobble] to the finish line with a massive grin on my face and tears of joy in my eyes....I did it!!We all did it! and as Nicki said, 'well I guess you could really say we've been there, done it and got the T.shirt!.

The BIG THANKYOU: to everyone, friends, family and colleagues who sponsored us and believed in us:To our wonderful mum who could not make it to Edinburgh but was with us all the way:To my partner Paul who also entertained the kids on the day. Thanks for your support...You're a gem!

Big hugs from the Three Bears...Sally Eathorne, Jim Rickards and Nicki Eathorne.

If you or anyone you know suffers from RA and you need some help or advice on any matters visit the link below. They are a good bunch!
http://www.rheumatoid.org.uk/


Here are some pics of the three of us in action! Well I am actually 'missing in action' as my photographer boyfriend was on his way on a bus and stuck in traffic so this is me just after receiving my medal

Makes you hungry all this running mallarky!

Nicki; truly triumphant at the finish line

Jim; Homeward bound


Jim, Sally and Nicki enjoying their moment of glory!

Where have all the Richard Burtons gone?

I have just 'discovered' Richard Burton the discoverer!

Up until a few months ago the face to the name was singular as in Richard Burton of the 'Richard Burton and Liz Taylor' fame, now I have found Richard and Isabel...and what a find, like buried treasure they have surfaced and have enriched my life. I should thank Channel 4OD and an evening of thumb twiddling as it was one of those times where, myself not posessing a television, I really wanted to sit in front of the TV and be entertained. So I searched through the 4OD archives on my computer and found the actor Rupert Everett presenting a programme about the Victorian explorer Richard Burton. It was, I seem to recall, one of a series of programmes about The Victorians and in fact looked like the only thing worth watching.

Now I knew of the Karma Sutra and Arabian Nights but that was my limit, just the book titles, not enough knowledge of their content to write even one short sentence on them..[what you haven't had a go at a few karma sutra positions I hear you mutter]...so who was this other Richard Burton? Rupert Everett is an admirer and fan of the controversial Burton and in the programme he loosely follows in his footsteps and tells his story, mainly about his time in India in the Army attached to the British East India Company from which he then joined the geographical survey team and later became a member of the Royal Geographic Society, exploring parts of Africa and led an expedition in search of the as then unknown source of the river Nile with John Hanning Speke as friend and second in command ( what a friend he turned out to be!!) With his lust for adventure and his amazing linguistic abilities Burton worked undercover for the British army to find out valuable information, amongst his many tasks he was to investigate claims of homosexuality amongst the British soldiers in Brothels in Mumbai or Bombay as it was then, going in disguise of course. His report appeared to be a little too descriptive and shocking causing a few disgruntlements and murmerings under the colonial beards of high office. He was so adept at learning not just the language of a country but their regional dialects, habits and behaviour and this led him on an intriguing and successful journey in 1853 to Mecca in the guise of a Sindh Muslim. the programme left me wanting to know more about this chap so off to the library I went the very next day.......the rest is history...(to read)

I am not going to continue with a 'briefing' of his life because it will end in a blog as long as the biography that I'm now reading which is the size of the bible or an encyclopedia. Written by Mary. S. Lovell called 'A Rage to Live' it covers both the lives of Richard and his wife Isabel. If you want to know more....read it. I am on page 642, their story is told brilliantly by the author who appears to have devoted a tremendous amount of time and patience to eek out every drop of info that she could find, I take my hat off to her for the pleasure that she has given her readers. It sits by my bed and I have disciplined myself to read it in the mornings only, with a cup of tea in bed. If I don't place this restriction upon myself I fear that I would be reading it from dawn to dusk and my partner would have left me by now on grounds of neglect, so it is for the best.
What I really want to talk about here (yes at last I may be coming to the point of my monologue) is: Where is Richard Burton today? He may be under a different name but do we have such an incredible being amongst us? Is he slipping by unnoticed....no I think not, it would be impossible for a man of such magnitude and overflowing charisma to be ignored by our world media, after all we are drowning under the yawning headlines concerning the petty lives of so-called 'Celebs'. What a bore it has become. I can't believe that such mediocrity can warrant even a line in an obituary column.

Burton was a man of substance, an adventurer and he was interested in everything surrounding him, man, land and beast. He was a man who would not or could not stand by and watch unjust acts taking place, he was painfully truthful to the point that he voiced his opinions rather too willingly and upset many 'men in high places' of Government and military with his unwelcome truthful criticisms of them and their dogmatic, narrow-minded and inadequate rules and procedures that dazzled in their ineptitude when exposed by somebody as clever and forward thinking as Burton. He foretold and warned of imminent unrests in India and also of similar events in Damascus when he was British Consul there. Was of course reprimanded for speaking out as he was acting 'above his station' in doing so. He detested the 'Boys club' clique, would not entertain joining them but alas could not beat them, just like today, our politicians (puppets is more an appropriate term) and their invisible string pullers (IE; the oil and chemical industries) can not be beaten and they will 'make' you if you lick their ass or 'break' you if you show the V sign. So if you are listening Richard...believe me nothing changes....You were always going to be on a loser. Common sense and truth do not prevail in our politically corrupt and money grabbing world of charlatens.
One vital thing though, he fought his corner valiantly with the unwavering help and support of Isabel to the very end of his days and can now, or should in my view, stand in history as a great man of honour.

So, yes, getting back to today...again.... is there a foot for the Burton slipper to fit? I would really like to think so in this world decreasing in its diversity of man. I look aroud me and see dull eyes and conforming lifeless creatures moulded to fit in to a society where you abide by 'The rules. We need some outlaws to reinvigorate our sedated spirits!!
Not equating myself with an Isabel exactly but I certainly feel that we have much in common and if she were about today, given the chance we would have been pretty good friends, apart from her Catholicism, but I'm sure that would not stand between us, it didn't stand between Richard (who appeared to be at least agnostic if not atheist) and herself as theirs was the most interesting and fulfilled relationship between man and wife that I have ever read about.
How I yearn to live even half the life of what they lived.(perhaps missing out on the bouts of cholera, malaria, dysentry and numerous ailments suffered in the tropics in those days).
Well I suppose I have had a few adventures myself but travelling is far much easier today than in the 1800's. Reading their accounts, my adventures just pale into insignificance.

As I write this I am becoming aware that perhaps I am, not quite a lone voice, but maybe a voice of a diminishing group of beings. If we were an 'endangered species' we would have a protection order on us at least, even if our numbers were unsuccessful in increasing, but I fear that we may be left to join the other 'extinct' creatures who fell to the wayside, but I'm not going down without a fight either and so I leave you in the knowledge that.....I will be back...with or without my Richard Burton.

An offer I just had to refuse

You know when you're flitting around the Internet looking for something perhaps meaningful, enlightening or even slightly interesting, all these pop-ups appear...congratulations! YOU have WON!, YOU are the lucky winner!..or YOU are our millionth visitor and have WON....etc and sometimes you get the junk email saying ...this is not junk mail...this is genuine...please read and find out how YOU can win....
It's hard to escape it all and sometimes you are lured into clicking on the box..just in case it is geniune..after all, someones got to win, just like the lottery, you've got to be 'innit to winnit', haaa you know full well that you are just kidding yourself and the little men sitting on each of your shoulders are having a discussion through your ears 'yes I've won' says lefty, 'don't be so stupid' says righty, 'well I wont know unless I have a look' say lefty, 'god you are so gullible' says righty and so on....before you know it you are filling out your details to win the holiday of a lifetime or the chance to win a dream home. Then you've opened the floodgates to the junk mail that's been hovering around in interstellar just waiting for the foolish to invite them in and your time spent online intent on writing to your neglected friends gets swallowed up in sorting your mail into the good, the bad and the ugly.
Well here is a word of advise.....don't go there...its just a total waste and you could find yourself on the end of the phone line to some hard sell scam.....like me yesterday evening. This is what happened..
Paul calls me from the other room, "Pizza ready in 5 minutes!"
My mobile rings, "hello"....."Hi is that Sallysparkle?" returns the broad American male accent 'yes'...I say, thinking...do I know any Americans?...."Hi Sally and CONGRATULATIONS! YOU have been chosen at random along with 25 other British contestants to enjoy our 10 day holiday cruise of a lifetime to Florida sponsored by Universal studios and the Radisson Hotels chain for only $249 dollars for 4 people to include a mini cruise to the Bahamas, you will visit Atlantis the top island resort of the rich and famous, you and your group will have a luxury outer cabin, all meals inclusive....back in Florida..have you been to Florida Sally?" "uh no", I reply a little bemused by it all "you haven't! oh my god you are in for a real treat, YOU will be chauffeur driven to Disney world with free passes and then off to visit Universal studios with VIP passes and then we fly you to Las Vegas to stay in the top luxury 5 star hotel with fabulous meals and full use of all the facilities, swimming polls, jacuzzi, the incredible casinos where we give you $200 for you to place your stakes....hey, if you win your millions Sally, remember me, just send me a postcard, haa haa..."
Pizza's on the table!" another call from the kitchen.. "I'm sorry but I don't remember entering for this at all'...thinking...I wonder if I did when I was idly flitting around on the Internet....."Well Sally, you are Sallysparkle right? from 10...drive, Edinburgg [his pronunciation not my spelling error] we have your details right here that you filled in and we picked out at random, we don't just look through the telephone directory and cold call, you must have entered or we wouldn't be calling you, so this is your lucky day, like I said we are not giving this away for free, this is a special one off promotion and by doing this, Radisson will gain $thousands of dollars just from you and others like you having a terrific time and spreading the word'.. all great promotion for them and far more successful than advertising...remember though that this does not include flights but we can offer you the cheapest deals and your tickets for four are open and so you can book your fabulous holiday for whenever you want". Once you have these tickets Sally, if you change your mind about going you can always sell them, on eBay they will fetch $1600 dollars each so you cant lose on this one, I will send you an email confirmation and the tickets Will be in the post to you today, all I need is your authorisation and acceptance"...
by now I'm stunned and convinced that I have actually won something!...my mind is working overtime assimilating the info...Paul comes into the room with a puzzled look on his face miming eating actions and I just grin back...."so Sally have you got your Visa card there? I need you to confirm with payment of the $249......hello....sally"...... "No I'm sorry," I say, "I don't do that, I don't give my card details over the phone, if you send me the confirmation details first then we can proceed," "Sally I don't understand, whats the problem, its just a simple transaction there is no way you are in any danger of losing your card details here, I'm in America, you are in Britain right, we have different legal systems right, you are not signing your card to me, I cant use it for anything but this payment" his voice pitch has raised a little..."well if you can send me details first then phone me back we can go ahead" I say ,now reverting back to normal cynical and suspicious mode, "well I can send you the details but I wont be phoning you back with this offer you will have to pay full price", "okay that's fine give it to someone else my pizza's getting cold". with that he hung up.

Life soon went back to normal and after diner we sat and watched Grand Designs on more 4 like you do on a Saturday night.

More Tea Vicar?

Hi,

It's me again, [well to be honest who else would it be, I'm not really expecting any visitors]

There was a time when the local Vicar would call on his parishioners, do they still do that or do all Vicars now use email to keep in touch with their flock? It would be a shame, think of all those redundant teapots and the fine bone china tea sets all now gathering dust on the sideboards of the [with]drawing rooms of England.
I'm only talking like this because it is May and with this month comes the nostalgic smells of the hedgerows that have magically burst into life and send me reelling back to my childhood and my great aunty Evelyn's garden full of bluebells and primroses, forget -me-nots, oh and not forgetting stinging nettles which my sisters and me would always manage to fall into; Her little kitchen where the grandmother clock was always ticktocking and the white china tea cups and saucers with flowers and some with gold rims [all odd and un-matching] would clink amidst the chattering of my gran, mum and great aunty all their chin wagging was really boring for us kids but aunty Evelyn's loo was absolutely fascinating and we would invariably end up wandering down the weedy path [ahh hence the nettle stings] to the bottom of the garden to open the latch on the cronky shed to behold the sight of a wooden bench with 2 round wooden lids and dare each other to lift them up and peep in....we always did peep in....On a nail and neatly strung together were the evenly cut pieces of newspaper which we would try and piece together again to read.[who said chip paper was yesterday's news?]. Oddly enough and primitive as it was even then - as this must have been around 1969 -70's, and at our house we had an indoor flushing toilet - that loo never had a bad smell.
Further down the garden was the veg patch, small but always well stocked and the tomatoes in the little glasshouse were to die for...I would have died had I known then what I know now that the toilet fed the tomatoes!
This episode in my life no doubt prepared me for the great loo experiences that I encountered on my visits to Nepal and India, did I say prepare? actually nothing prepares you for the Nepali trekking toilet but the desperation of 'having to go'. I have a classic photo somewhere of one in the Annapurna mountains which I will dig out and post it on as pictures sometimes speak louder than words.
Well this has all nicely strayed away from the vicar and his e flock and I think it is time I 'rounded up' my bleatings and signed off for the day.
May you enjoy the rest of May.

Miss sparkle.

Flagging at the blogging already

Okay so Blogging has been around a while but so have I but look where it's got me? This morning I thought that I would try out this blogging thing and so far I havent a clue how it is supposed to work, its progress though because I am here writing this blog, to whom? I may ask, as nobody else will ask as so far I can't see how anyone else would ever get wind of it. This has taken me about 6 hours of my precious life today and as I am rather a determined and stubborn kind of person I am not going to be beaten, I will find out how this all works... I will..I wiiiiill...but before I go any further I desperately need a cup of tea... ah the pleasures of just switching on the kettle and pouring yourself a cup of tea all in the space of a predictable 5 minutes, fully confident that you will not come across any complications that will hinder your day, after all, I was only going to create a blog to promote my website....can somebody enlighten me?...hello....anyone out there on the highway? I need to know how I can link this to.. well anyone really...meanwhile I'm going back to my cuppa and a jammy dodger.