Two sides to every border

A short post to state, that there are two side to every border.

No amount of claiming to take back sovereignty holds water if the country the other side stands aside and just watches.

Or in the case of France, obeys international law.

Because had France been not living up to its obligations under international law, we would have heard of it before now.

But we haven't.

The migrant "crisis" can be fixed in a week, if the UK wanted, but it chooses not to. But that failure des after months and years give the impression of incompitance.

With estimates of between 75% and 90% of those who make it across the Channel getting refugess status or leave to stay in the UK in those small boats, we could cut the number without any more coming to the UK by simply processing claims in France.

The business of the trafficers would collapse with up to 90% of their custom having been taken away.

And yet the UK Government allows the issue to fester, for the most desperate of people to risk their lives to reach the UK, even those we promised to help in Kabul and beyond.

The cruelty is the point.

It feeds the bigots.

Rather than deal in facts and humanity, the Government, the Home Secretary and the rabid Brexiteers would rather be cruel.

But without help of the Frech authorities, any empty promise by Pater or Braverman remains unfullfilled.

The UK could negotiate a replacement for the Dublin Agreement and be able to return those who are not genuine refugees, but chooses not to.

Why is that?

Braverman needs migrants to be cruel to, so needs the people smugglers, needs migrants in small boats.

Our rob or us.

Falling down

“Without Brexit, we wouldn’t be talking about austerity this week,” Michael Saunders tells ar reporter on Monday in his first on-air interview since leaving the Bank of England’s monetary policy committee.

Not only that, but half the "black hole" of £60 billion, is down to Tuss's disaster budget and the bailing out the Bank of England had to do to stop our pension fnds from crashing.

Add to that the £37 billion for Dido Harding's failed Test and Trace scheme, as you can see, there would be no need for cuts.

Even if that black hole wasn't there due to Conservative Party and Government policies, Government and nations can fund such shortfalls in other ways. Austerity is a choice, a political one, one that punishes those that can afford it least.

Meanwhile, Fmr Environment Sec George Eustice has spoken about the post-Brexit UK/Australia trade deal in the Commons. He says now no longer a minister: "I no longer have to put such a positive gloss on what was agreed...the Australia deal is not actually a very good trade deal for the UK." But voted for it because it was Government policy, even though he knew it was bad for the UK economy and its farmers.

And then he voted against a Labour admendment to allow scrutiny. THe Tories really do hate this country.

It is clear in Ministerial responsibilities that his and any Minister's first duty and loyalty is to the country, not to the Party or Prime Minister.

And finally, the French Stock Exchange, The Bourse, is now worth more than that of the City of London. London began 2016 with a £1.4 trillion lead in value, now that has been lost.

Project fear really became project reality. Even if serving Ministers and the BBC won't say so.

Meanwhile we all get poorer, but the poorest will be poorest of all.

Sunday 12th November 2022

On this day, the all time UK November temperature record was broken at 21.2 degrees.

Needless to say, this is not normal.

Nor is going for a walk in the countryside, not needing a coat in the 2nd week of November and still getting very warm whilst doing so.

Sorry for the delay in Sunday's post, but as you will see in the next post, was busy with work and other stuff yesterday.

So, running a little behind.

I was up first on Sunday, went down, fed the cats and made first drinks. Outside there was a fine clear sky with the promise of lots of sunshine later.

Warm sunshine.

We have secod coffees, croissants, tidy up. And after preparing the rump steak for lunch, we were ready to go out.

Probably our favourite place to walk is one of the woods on the other side of Barham.

A quiet pleasant drive along the A2 to Wingham, then down the valley through Barham and into the woods. I stop a few times to snap the golden bedecked trees overhanging the road, and drifts of golden fallen leaves, soon to be just a memory.

We park at the hard standing, put on our boots and set off to look for our favourite fungi, Scarlet Elf Cups, but I think we're too early as I have only seen them in early spring before. Turns out I was right, in that we found no sign, but up the sloping track there was many other fungi on either side, including White Saddle and various bracket fungi. But further one, I found no sign of Early Purple Orchids, even though their rosettes should be visible. Maybe it was deep leaf litter that was hiding them?

Anyway, down the bridleway, over the road and back up the down the other side, taking the wide and leaf covered path. The sun brke through the clouds and all was golden light. If not for long.

We walk past where a couple of months ago, Violet Helleborines were in flower, but now just dried stalks mark that they were ever there. Hopes of dappeled sunlight through the golden canopy came to nothing as cloud had rolled in, so nothing else to do other than to walk back down the car, change into crocs and then drive back home.

Other highlight was to call in at B&Q for a new toilet seat.

Rock, and indeed, roll.

Back home and while Jools does some gardening, I prepare lunch: zapping jacket potatoes, and then boiling the peas and sweetcord, flying mushrooms and frying the sliced potatoes, before finally griddling the steaks. Jools poured the fizz, and it was all ready.

Cheers.

The afternoon was the final Premiership games before the World Cup, and Man Utd scoring a winning goal against Fulham, and just like that, the first half of the season draws to an end, and will not restart until Boxing Day.

Peanuts and crips with the rest of the big bottle of tripel for supper.

Outside the waning moon shone down from a clear sky.

Saturday 12th November 2022

The weekend.

And we are both COVID free, which means we can do stuff again. And with the seather being very unseasonably mild and sunny, we should do something outside.

But first to Tesco, where everything is more and more expensive. Again, a "normal" shop with no booze or cleaning products came to £110. The shop does seem well stocked these days, with no real shortages. You've just got to be able to afford to buy stuff.

Back home to put the shopping away and have breakfast; fruit followed by bacon butties once again. And after washing up, we were free to go.

Where we went was the Gove Ferry side of Stodmarsh reserve.

My hope is to see Bearded Reedlings at some point. Even better, to photograph them.

It is a half hour drive along to Sandwich Road past Eastry, then over the marshed to Preston and onto Grove Ferry, where two pounds fifty gets to to park all day. We changed into our boots and set off over the road, onto the reserve.

It was a warm day. So warm I hadn't bothered with a coat, and was soon almost summer-like. We climed to the raptor viewing platform, and once at the top, a gentle breeze cooled us down, though there were raptors to be seen or heard.

A ten minute walk away was the first hide. I went in and a range of snappers were there, some with lenses attached to their cameras nearly a metre long, these were serious pieces of glass.

In front of the hide, a cormorant was dryings its wings in the warm sunshine, allowing us all to get shots of its fine starling-like feathers.

I went on.

At one point we heard the call of the Reedlings, but as we neared where we guessed they were, the birds fell silent. We made do with looking through a wooden hide wall at a family of mute swans, gently swimming up and down while around them, ruddy darters still in cop, we laying eggs, the female's tail dipping in the water of the pond.

We walked back to the car, it was nearly midday and temperatures were now over 16 degrees, a pleasant summer's day really, but this is the second week of Novemeber. All of Europe is basking in unseasonable temperatures, nut just us in Kent.

Back in the car we head for home, getting back at half twelve; should I watch the Scottish football?

No.

THe afternoon flies by. I follow Norwich via the radio and Twitter, 1-0 up at half time, but concede two late goals to slip to another defeat. And that's the last game before the World Cup, next game is on Boxing Day.

Yet more football on the tellybox, which I watch if I don't take in the action, really.

Friday 11th November 2022

The plan had been to have a lazy drive home from Southampton on Friday. Climate protesters meant I travelled back on Thursday, but any thoughts of taking this easy on Friday had been dashed by an emergency department meeting on Thursday, and the allocation of mentoring tasks.

So, I would have to do those as directed.

We slept through the alarm, but once up, Jools took a test and found she was COVID free, so she would go into work, meaning the dining room table and second screen were all mine!

Jools left for work, I put out the bins make a second coffee and think about work.

Sigh.

THere's no avoiding it, though.

So, I log on and access the spreadsheet of death, write the mails to case handlers either saying you done shit or you done great, did my working hours and spoke to my new boss.

At which point the migraine came.

Was likely to happen with the 16 hours on the go on Thursday, so the plan was to have a lie down and go back to work.

But when I went back, spots appeared in my vision, so I went back to bed.

I think I had done enough hours that week, so with my out of office message still set, I turned the computer off.

But I still had to take the hire car back for two. At which point I got a call from Gary: did I know there was a steam railtour coming through that afternoon?

I didn't.

Jools was going to pick me up at the car hire place at two, but Gary said he would pick me up half an hour earlier, and we could go to the footbridge at Shakespeare Beach.

Yes, that sounded very good.

So, I went round the car to check the car: no damage I could find, so down to Townwall Street where they confirm there is no damage, they sign the car off, and all I have to do is wait for Gary.

He arrives dead on time, so I climb in, and we go round down Castle Street then up and over Western Heights to Aycliffe, park the car, gather our cameras and walk under the A20, then down the steps to the bridge.

Half an hour to wait.

Time passses quickly as we talk to other snappers, and three other trains pass below us, so we can practice our shots.

At ten past two, in a cloud of smoke and steam, the locomotive brings the train round the sharp bend at Dover Harbour, then accelerates and cruises to a stop at the signal just 50 yards from the bridge. Giving lots of time to snap the steaming beast.

With a toot on the whilst, the driver lets out the regulator, and the train begins to mover forward, and with each beat of the piston, a puff of black smoke is belched out of the chimney.

It quickly gathers speed, passes below us, and is soon lost in a cloud of smoke as the train enters Shakespeare Tunnel.

All over.

All that's left is the long climb up the cliff, yet more huffing an puffing to be done, stopping to admire the views and then back through the underpass to the car, we climb wearily in, and he brings me home.

Perfect.

I prepare dinner. I had found some lanb neck in the freezer, I fry some Cumberland sausages, mix them with chopped tomatoes, chickpeas, spies, fruit and honey to make a tagine. Takes the rest of the afternoon, but it came out pretty good. I cook some rice, and once cooked tip that in the pan too and cook in the oven for an hour.

Yummy.

I finish third in the music quiz, the answer being (Tom) Jones the Voice. So, happy with that.

There was football to watch in the evening, but I bail at half time with Sunderland 1-0 up.

Thursday 10th November 2022

Time to go home.

Only.

I have to do a day's work on the mainland first.

Now, the original plan had been to spend the night in Southampton, and drive back on Friday, but due to the climate protests blocking the motorway for the first three days of the week, I thought it best to travel back under the cover of darkness once I had finished the audit.

But it was going to be a long day.

How long?

Well, I had to catch the six o'clock ferry from Cowes, so had to be up at half four, out on the road by five.

I set the alarm and tried to sleep.

I did sleep, and the alarm woke up, and a bit of a whirl of action I was packed and with one final check of the room, I left.

I could have gone via the chain ferry, aka the floating bridge, but it is very temperamental, and as I had to catch the ferry, I chose to take the longer trip via Newport, but being silly early, there'd be no traffic.

Indeed, I saw one other car on the way out of Cowes, past the factory and through the centre of Newport, along the only stretch of dual carriageway before turning back north to East Cowes, past Osborne House and back into Cowes, arriving at the terminal to find I was the first passenger.

I went into the termnal to find a cup of coffee, then back to the car as the ferry was pulling in.

We wait and wait, then allowed on, where there was very nearly ten cars on board. Seasoned travellers rushed upstairs to be first in the queue for coffee and/or breakfast. I thought about it, and in the end thought I should have something to eat.

Two sausage, bacon with beans, mushrooms, three hash browns and a fried slice. I had more than enough.

Thing is, the audit site has no catering, so food might be a problem. It wasn't, but best to be safe.

Anyway, once I had eaten I went onto deck to look at the scene as we neared Southampton and dawn stretched along the southern horizon.

I took shots.

So, once we had docked, we were let off, and onto the main road that runs through the centre of the city, out over the river into the New Forest and along the coast past endless oil refineries, all belching smoke and steam.

At the site of the former power station is where we have a blade paning facility. I sign in and drive down to the portacabins, park up and go to look for a coffee machine.

The auditees arrive and we get cracking.

We do stop for lunch, and much to my surprise there is: subs, bags of crisps, cream cakes, sausage rolls and cans of pop.

Coming after the meal the night before and the big breakfast, I wouldn't need to eat for 24 hours. I don't have a cream cake, that would be too greedy.....

At four we were done, so I say thanks and walk to the car to pack. I have a four hour drive, up to London then round the M25 at rush hour. It would be grim. But there was Steve and Marc on the radio to keep me company, and drown out my swearing at other drivers.

I get home at half eight, a very long day.

I unload the car and go for a shower.

Jools is now COVID free and would go to the office in the morning.

Time for bed......

Wednesday 9th July 2022

Wedensday.

And still on the Island.

Through the night, yet more rain fell, and into the morning so I woke to the sound of yeat another cloudburst. But it should be clearing soon.

So, I lepa out of bed, do 50 press-ups, have a cold shower and am ready for the rigours of the day ahead, and in this I would be helped by a pot of black coffee and the finest sausage and bacon sandwich known to man.

And a man in the kitchen makes it for me, so all I have to do is eat it.

Non nom nom.

I drink the last dregs off the coffee, and I'm away to work.

It was supposed to be a slow and easy start, but I was summond to an emergency depatment meeting, and needed to be at the factory to get internet access.

Our soon-to-be-ex-boss is now offically our ex-boss, and we have a new interim manager.

That's it.

So on with the audit.

Outside, the clouds did clear and the sun did shine, and did shine into the meeting room where even in November was so warm the air conditioning could not cope and we got very warm indeed.

We broke for lunch, and talked about the struggles we face, and how jolly nice the Island is.

Well, it is.

We were done by half three, so I drove back to the hotel, wrote a little then decided I really should go an exercise my fat little legs, so should walk into Cowes for a pint at the Ale House, where there was a fine firkin of porter on.

But, before then, as I walked along the promenade, over the other side of the Solent, the just past full moon rose over the Pompy skyline. It was pretty breathtaking, I leaned on railings to watch it rise and get brighter and its yellow colour fade to pure white.

Dozens of other people were doing the same thing too.

And it was a free show.

My favourite price.

I walk into town and up the Ale House, a group of sailing types were talking over pints of fizzy Eurolager, so I order porter just because I can.

THere was a wide range of places to eat, most with lots of free tables.

I wasn't in a seafood modd, curry perhaps, but then at a restaurant I saw they had a dish called "sambal chicken". Sambal is a spicy chili sauce from Indonesia, that I sued to eat lots of when I was on the survey boats.

I asked, do you make your own sambal?

They did.

And cocktails were two for £15.

I order the sambal chicken and a marshmellow martini.

Very fuckin sophisticated.

The sambal was hot, just about bearable, but not not leave any doubt, it came with sliced fresh chilli, as did the Thai spiced cheesy chips.

I eat most of it all, then finish up with a "rhubarb and custard cocktail, which did mix quite poorly with the sambal on the walk back to the hotel.

Back to the hotel, I settle the bill and so all ready to leave in the morning, as I have to catch the six o'clock ferry.