The sadness in Happisburgh

We flew in to Lima Peru the night before our flight back to London England, all was fine, until we realised we only had a jangle worth of small change left to our name, this just about paid for a 3 minute phone call back to the UK to interrogate my bank. As we touched into Lima my cash card would not work for a whole 32 painful hours even though it had sufficient funds and it was not flagged as suspicious. I was informed that this was due to complications with 'that type of card! ' Oh England....what’s with all this…wrong type of card, snow, leaves, rain, air, business! Stu's card stopped working weeks ago when his bank changed from Woolwich to Barclays, same account, valid card till 2009, their reason was because it still said 'Woolwich' on it not 'Barclays', customer services gave no thought to if my poor beloved was traveling alone, he would have been very stranded. Unfortunately we had also cashed our final travelers cheque that night to pay for a convenient but cozy hotel room as I was sick and fighting with my immune system. The tickly cough I cultivated while surviving Cusco and the Inka trail had developed into the baritone bark of a great Dane being choked by a chain. All I needed was to get to bed.



The cozy hotel check out was 12pm our flight 22pm. We asked anyone at the airport if Iberia airlines had a desk to confirm our tickets. It seemed they didn’t open any desks until the time of check in which was not until 19pm, nor could we get any reply from the phone number on our receipt. We had not eaten all day because we couldn't afford to; I lay on the airport floor very thirsty with a high temperature, totally exhausted from coughing. It was getting dark outside when we finally got to the desk where they told us we were not on the flight at all...I burst into the biggest (coughing) fit ever, near to tears I thought we had royally been had by some bogus travel agency. I felt drained as we simply had no money available at all to feed ourselves let alone buy two new flights that were now quoted at over $1500 each. The lady at the desk was helpful, she rang the travel agents phone number and got through, as if by divine magic an agent was suddenly at the desk. We spoke directly to the manager, his apology was to tell us that they had fallen - out of relations - with Iberia airlines and they had incidentally forgotten to send me an email. They had managed to get us on the next flight to London with a different airline but it was leaving 7 hours after our original flight. Just as I nearly blew my brains out from trying to blow my very blocked nose I had a sudden flash of terror....AIRPORT TAX! This was not included in the flight price; I imagined being hurled in to jail and then felt relieved we were not in Bangkok! This mind prattle was followed by a genius brain wave, if I have learn't anything over the last few months it is that these delays, set backs and obstructions are there for a good reason. So I struck a deal with the manager explaining the least they could do after this mess up was to pay our airport tax in full. Within 45 minutes the agent had our new flight tickets confirmed and $60.00 in cash in our hands. In hindsight I wish I added dinner and a brandy to that list of final demands, as any more delays that night there might just have been a mass of lumpy viral ridden green snot and my bare marrowed bones flying economy.

ENGLAND

It seems that since we were last in town we now have a new Prime Minister...........I have no comments here at all. We also have a new king of England Sir Richard Branson it seems the country has gone Virgin mad! Virgin cable TV, phones, trains, planes, cosmetics, music, financial companies, Doctors surgeries, alternative health centres (Good Man) and dentist, in shopping centres, office blocks, and housing estates....whatever next … new conception try VIRGIN DNA? Also I noticed everyone from Portsmouth to Norfolk wearing Peru hats from the kids in the street to office types and funky street folk to the elderly, how cool, as everyone I knew got the more decorative authentic, hand knitted by real Peruvians versions for Christmas.



It seems that being a talent less celebrity these days is the new IT experts from a few years ago as every one is a celebrity and everyone of these people ever produced by these endless tabloid magazines and reality TV shows now have their own brand of bloody perfume, as if England has not learnt from the Jade Goodie nightmare. Also the book stores have endless Auto-Biographies by these same people obviously not written by themselves as Kerry the Iceland woman didn’t even know what her book was about when interviewed by Jonathan Ross. These biographies sadly sell in their millions which is bad news for the real authors of this country, as publishers are clawing in the cash from popcorn personalities who most of which haven’t reached the age of 30 yet, let alone have anything of worth to share with us that we don’t already know? Although I received that Booky Wook for Christmas and im actually looking forward to reading it, as I think Mr. Brand has written it himself and he should be a Sir Russell Brand as he is genius. Long live the real writers and talents out there.

HAPPISBURGH

(Pronounced Hazeburror)



One great place I visited of some interest to me was a little Norfolk coastal village called Happisburgh. This 12th century North sea coastal village is nestled between Cromer and Great Yarmouth and it is on record as the first place in England where on average two meters of its clay cliff coastline a year is now falling into the sea. This includes various sea view (now ground level) hotels and homes. Diana Wrighton is such a person who on last count (Im sure this has changed since this winter kicked in) she had only 16 meters of path left before her hotel drops meters into the sea, she plans to stay for another 5 meters but then for obvious health and safety issues such as her bricks and mortar caving in on her, along with gas, electric, water and sewage pipes exploding. She has already abandoned her hotel business, but she still lives there. Out the back and way down below her hotel I took a photo of the drop and I am sure her 5 meters are up as her hotel looked dangerously close to the edge already. Out the front she left a moving message to her previous clients from the last 26 years of business, this hangs beside her old guest house sign. Even the local rescue life boat's access ramp disappeared in 2003 where 20 almighty meters of land fell at one time during a spout of very bad weather. The lifeboat service has not been in action for a few years now, and you would think that this is the one place that needs its vital services, one-minute its dinner the on lap and Corrie on the box, the next your world and everything and kitchen sink over board.



Walking through this village was eerie...it was coming up to Christmas and the decorations were all up and ready to go...business as usual. Unfortunately not for Diana Wrighton. Up the road a little as there isn’t much road left, was a great sign 'Don’t even think about parking here' which was perfect as it made me laugh but then sigh with sadness, as only meters up the tarmac the road had snapped off and dropped into the sea. Staunch residence who refuse to leave the sight have relocated into caravans right by the cliff face edge, where union jacks fly high and proud, I did think that the caravans themselves were dangerously too close to the edge just then as elderly man peeked at me through his net curtains, this is all he has left, I wander what he was thinking right then, probably pesky tourists bog off!



So here it is, real life evidence that something called global warming is really happening to us here in England, the world is metamorphosing be it by our carbon emissions or this is what the world does every few thousands of years and unfortunately time wise, we find ourselves right bang in the middle of the end of this world as we know it scenario. The photos prove that our tiny island is now very included in this equation and just because we are British means diddly shit to those powers that be….Mr.G & his Gods of nature posse. No one escapes. I wonder did Nostradamus predict England disappearing like this ever? Over the New Year I watched a documentary about the floods last year 2007 around the Norfolk-Suffolk area and I could not believe it, I had no idea how bad it had gotten here, it resembled New Orleans. Following the floods in Happisburgh of 1953 that claimed the lives of 300 people, wooden groynes were built along the whole stretch of coastline to help fight back the raging North Sea. This did hold up as a good barrier for three decades, but now the sea has broken through and let’s face it, the sea is one of the most powerful forces of nature not to be taken on sitting down.



It seems that our rubbish short sighted government have now handed this issue over to the Environment agency and they wont spend any money on trying to defend the cliffs from the sea or help the people of Happisburgh as they see this kind of coastal defense as a waste of funds and of no great political urgency, But what happens when a thread tags on a jumper and isn’t stitched up in time? This has naturally saddened the residents of Happisburgh as their picturesque village is disappearing before their very eyes, some people had not yet finished paying their mortgages when forced to move out and rent, now they have to pay both. This place has now become a very different kind of tourist attraction for curious melancholic eco others, but there were no caravans selling hot bacon rolls and cups of luke warm tea! But this is just the first of many coastline places now showing decay....is this government not going to fix all of these places? Very soon we wont have any land left in this country and our rubbish government wont have any place left to claim council taxes from hard working coastal folk, in fact the prime ministers job will soon enough be as redundant as a Happisburgh estate agent! Let’s face it who saw this happening in 1982! Maybe in 2034 London will stand alone representing the new coastline of Englandshire, sort of like a lonesome Gibraltar. Clearly Britain is in many ways falling into deep waters.


PRAISES FOR MY TIME IN ENGLAND urmm not too many.

1. Little country - many trains
2. People spoke English, most of the time.
3. Brilliant road and pavement surfaces, didn’t trip over once.
4. Long trips took no time compared to the bus journeys where we have just come from. But petrol prices were a disgrace.
5. Smoke free - everywhere. Although everyone left me alone a lot in the pubs and restaurants to go have a fag outside where there were more people outside than in. Apparently law enforcements in certain

Wish upon a shooting star
I dont think this will help some how...
areas detect social establishments who are breaking this law by the amount of people not stood shivering outside trying to smoke a fag.
6. All my beautiful friendships that have survived all kinds of twists and turns over the last 20 years. I’m very thankful and lucky.

GRUMBLES urmm maybe too many.

1. This grumble was weird for me because no one really says hello (Hola) when passing in the street, not even in the tiny villages. I was amazed by this as everyone in Latin Americas say hello or at least smiles at you. At first I felt like id just landed from Venus and my friendly nature and beady third eye was terrifying the natives, all this weirdness just for exchanging pleasantries to my fellow countrymen as they hurriedly dragged their pets inside and covered their children’s eyes.

2. How expensive is England. Hotels more than £60 a night, petrol over £1 a liter, food...ill get to that later, internet, phone charges, tube tickets, bus fares on and on it goes..

3. It was hard to avoid eating take away's, although I did really savour my first Indian when first back in town, but

A bit too close for comfort

all the processed pre-packaged foods and general munchieness rubbish was hard to say no too, especially as we were not settled anywhere and staying all over the place, my weight was steadily on the up, my energy levels on its way down and my stomach hurt a lot as id not eaten any heavy red meat or over sugared, over salted foods nor drank any booze in months. Cheap good restaurants were hard to come by especially in London. After being away I found the price of food incredible. I went into a road side café and thought I bought the healthier option of a slightly dry egg and cress sandwich (it was 3 pm) a hand sized warm smoothie and a yoghurt with preserved fruits and mushy granola that sank, this came to a whacking £9.75 and yet there was nothing quality about my meal. Id happily pay £9.75 for fresh items that stay fresh all day, not partially stale bread and mushy granola. I now believe that to eat the healthier more varied options these days in current 21st century England it boils down to being in a comfortable income bracket, somewhere between not noticing a direct debit

Might as well make some art from it all

for a basic monthly gym membership to using Harrods as your convenience corner shop. So fast food was the cheapest options for us, which made Stu very happy, but it made me feel sick so I went without a lot.

4. We found it hard to find wireless Internet anywhere (well the free kind that we were very used too) and the Internet shops around the country varied in price I paid from £1 up to a whooping £3.75 per hour. (Thanks to Mike at net@cafe in Portsmouth for his wonderful hot lemons, hospitality and Internet prices) surprisingly there are still homes in the UK that don’t have a computer that is online with broadband.

5. The first thing I could not help but noticed when I first got back to Gatwick in mid November was several glitzy decorated 20ft Christmas trees, in your face down your throat consumerism, everywhere. I arrived back to England on World Of Leathers 'national recliners day', blimey even furniture companies have their own national holidays now. Our TV ads were in some cases pure works of British art....but the rest were filled with out of work celebrities whoring Christmas brain fodder stupid

Potatoes don't fair well in this kind of soil.

offers, crazy give away Christmas sale discounts, free credit on everything. The sea of debt swills in and engulfs before you know it. But these endless commercials cater for debts problems too with offers of debt management companies, loans, consolidators, IVA problem solving solutions. Property is on it's way down and poverty is on its way up, sorry that sounded very news at 10. Many people across the board are struggling.

6. I admit, that not having a home in the UK I did on occasions feel very homeless. I don't even have my beautiful car anymore to sling my backpack in and sod off when I wanted too. I relied on Stu and his car and public transport which was an interesting and very new concept for me. I have traveled a lot over the years, been away months even years at a time but always had a flat and car to come back to, this time I didn’t have that and it was strange being English in England and not having anywhere to call home. Home is where the heart is, but my heart was elsewhere, on a plane mile away from England.

7. Its unfortunate

Trapped by nature

but lot of people are simply too busy to spend quality time with each other on a regular bases, it’s just the way England is right now. So I loved watching the likes of Jamie Oliver and Gordon F**kin Ramsey while I was back, as I really think what all these celebrity chiefs are doing f***kin brilliantly is helping all kinds of regular people to try and cook at home. They masterfully teach our youth very basic four letter words, how to give menacing looks and dish out threatening behaviour along with how to source, shop and skilfully use affordable f**kin ingredients, which I only hope this will move more people towards sharing f**kin food and all those special times with each other.
(A big thanks to Michael my 2nd dad for doing just that, organising everyone together on our last day in England and for cooking the best f**kin last supper ever.)

8. I saw a news board headline while back in Islington London that quoted 'Death costs: up 23%' its so stupid we spend our working time worrying about our pension time, that’s if we make it to pension time with all this worrying…. now we are

In hope things will look up for these folk.

meant to worry about death costs....rain check for the now. But talking of which.....

I had a lovely friend her name was Sheila Evans, she sadly passed away over this last Christmas. She was an amazing strong woman, a designer with incredible creative energy, fun, generous and kind to everyone who crossed her path especially the ambulance men and fire men of Islington as she lived in a basement flat and had suffered from MS for over 30 years, she had been confined to a wheel chair for a lot of that time but never let it get to her. Her funeral was on the 2nd January on a freezing cold dark and windy day but regardless it was a great day. She had organized her own funeral and her own coffin to be made out of cardboard. It was perfect and it worked really well. Upon it lay yellow ribbons and flowers; it looked just as spectacular as any mahogany brass trimmed number. I will always have a lasting memory of her coffin as it was so unusual, fashionably eco, very now and so her. As they played her tune ‘What a wonderful world’ by Louis Armstrong, as if on cue from God himself a stream of sunshine suddenly shone through from the stain glass window opposite which illuminated the whole box.


I sat in the front row and I noticed an ever so slight kink in the top corner of the cardboard coffin, it was like a moment of defining significance to me as the realness of this whole situation of her death, of other friends deaths over the years, deaths in all relationships, deaths in one self while still alive and this amazing journey we call life that every one of us is trying our best to get through in one piece, it all became very clear to me at that precise moment, non of us are perfect, we spend years seeking it, when we find it things change again and on it goes, what is perfection to one person isn’t always to someone else, acceptance is perfection. What a positive way to start the New Year. Bless you Sheila.



When there is death there is new life, the one good thing that happened while in the UK was my beautiful nephew was finally born, all healthy and strong with strapping good looks and mighty lungs. A supreme being he will grow up to be one day, I truly feel it, well to done my sister. But what world has he been born into? In my lifetime I have grown up with and adapted to the transitions of diverse human relations, technology and world issues which are mind blowing, exciting and still ever exhilaratingly unpredictable. I love my world.

Next port of call Thailand…….and everywhere in and around. Much the same as last year…going where my instincts tell me to go, I want to try find that thing called Zen and overcome my stupid fear of deep water and sea creatures.


I wish to dedicate this blog to Sheila Evans, rest in wonderful peace my dear.

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