Tuesday 31 January 2012

Not quite a postcard from Malta

As the first month of 2012 is coming to an end I thought it was about time that I put fingers to keyboard and wish everyone a happy New Year.

As some of you know since my last entry in October we have been away quite a lot.

First we went to Cyprus, in November, to visit the Gilberts in Paphos including a week of doing absolutely nothing on the beach at Coral Bay. In fact I spent most of the week soaking up the sun and looking at my feet!












Paphos is a very easy going and relaxed place to live. For some locals however, it appears to be too boring – see this article from the Cyprus Mail of November 17th 2011.

Man Jailed for blasting co-worker’s rectum with air compressor

A CARPENTER’S assistant blasted pressurised air up his friend’s rectum, rupturing his large intestine, “because he was seeking a pleasant change that would break the monotony of hard work”, a Nicosia court has heard.

The foreign EU national, a 31 year old father of two, was jailed for 45 days last week after admitting that in October last year he had seriously injured his friend who required surgery and a lengthy stay in hospital to recover.

“The defendant’s idea to administer pressurised air into his friend’s anus is indeed original and in reality the thought of it provokes laughter, but putting the idea into practice ended up in tragedy for the victim and perpetrator,” the court said.

In the words of my dear old Mum, “Well I never, whatever next?” Indeed the mind boggles.

Moving swiftly on, at the beginning of December I met up again with the Welsh Bard. Together with John Garner, an old chum and colleague, we spent the day with Evans Above in a selection of pubs in Oxford. It was the first time the three of us had had a drink together for the best part of 35 years and a thoroughly good time was had by all.



At Christmas we spent three days with the family, staying at Lorna’s over the festive period before having 5 one night stays along the South coast, calling at Brighton, Eastbourne, Hastings and Rye finishing with New Years Eve back in Hastings.

Most notable was sharing a restaurant with John Altman (Nick Cotton from Eastenders) who was starring as the Sheriff of Nottingham in the Eastbourne pantomime, a very confusing hour trying to make sense out of an Andy Warhol exhibition at the De la Warr Pavillion in Bexhill (why are these “paintings so valuable?”) -

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-15039178,

and a much more interesting hour at an exhibition of original cartoons and scenes by the late John Ryan creator of Captain Pugwash, Harris Tweed Special Agent, Lettice Leefe and Sir Prancealot etc, at the Rye Art Gallery.

If you ever find yourself in Eastbourne looking for somewhere to stay, try this:

http://www.thebigsleephotel.com/home.asp?hotelid=4

It’s very modern in design, comfortable, cheap and the bar is open all night. The only downside is that it is owned by film actor John Malkovitch and there is a photograph of him above the bed in every room of the hotel. He is weird at the best of times but this photo was not taken on one of his good days.

Relating these experiences to the Welsh bard inspired this response:

Baltzer is one of those loons
Whose mornings, and some afternoons,
Are spent on the plot,
And when they are not,
He studies the phases of moons.

But, though he’s a crazy old fart,
He’s concealing a cultural heart...
He apparently swoons
Over Pugwash cartoons,
And claims Andy Warhol’s not art.

He’s not Brian Sewell, for sure,
But the art world deserves to hear more,
And soon we may see
ChrisB on TV...
So that’s what the pony tail’s for!

Finally, earlier this month we had a week in Malta staying all-inclusive in a hotel in Bugibba.

Never again! I have never eaten or drunk so much in my life. Suffice to say that on the first evening in the restaurant when asked whether we would like a drink, I asked for a red wine and a white wine and was promptly delivered a bottle of each!

Amazingly the first person I bumped into at the hotel bar was a friend and drinking partner from the Farnborough area, Alan Hope, better known as Howlin Laud Hope, leader of the Monster Raving Loony Party.

You may have seen him on TV or in the newspapers, if not, here's Alan:



The day before we returned I wrote this ode which I intended as an electronic postcard to be fired off into interweb, but in common with most of the Maltese infrastructure, the internet connection at and around our hotel was useless and my email access was limited to the North East corner of the hotel roof but only with a prevailing Westerly wind.

So I publish it here:

A WEEK IN BUGIBBA

I write for you, this latest missive,
From my Maltese All-Inclusive,
Through an alcoholic mist,
In truth I must confess I’m pissed.

When entering the hotel bar,
On the first day, for an early jar,
Who should I see so hale and hearty.
But Howlin Laud Hope of the Loony Party!

The hotel’s full, the joint is jumpin’,
There’s entertainment, music thumpin’,
All here with just the one intention,
To join the OAP’s convention.

There’s Jocks and Germans, Ecky Thumpers,
In baggy shorts and woolly jumpers,
They’re all so fat, a bunch of throwbacks,
A recipe for fatal heart attacks.

Three meals a day, all you can eat,
Soup, pasta, every kind of meat,
Salad, fish and then to follow,
Puds and custard, plates of gateaux.

There’s Stella, Cisk, all you can drink,
Fine wine, liqueurs and shorts to sink.
My stomach’s bursting, kidneys ache,
I’ve had as much as I can take,

So no more lager or cheap Bordeaux,
Goodbye brandy and ameretto,
Tomorrow we’ll be flying back,
Must leave you now, it’s time to pack.

Home to Blighty’s peace and quiet,
An ending to our “See-Food” diet,
It’s fish and salads all the way,
Then down the Fox at close of play!

We're off to Portugal for 2 weeks on February 20th and I wonder who I will bump into there.

This week I have started reaquainting myself with my plot which, apart from the odd visit to dig up parsnips, leeks and swedes, has been totally neglected since last October.

Hopefully the snow will stay away and I can spend a few hours a day clearing the weeds and digging it over. Unfortunately I am severely hampered by my right shoulder, an old injury, which has been playing up to such an extent that I have been referred to physio at the hospital.

Which reminds me I must close now and do my daily exercises!

Here's a little bit of Pugwash history to finish with: