You May Have Wondered Where I Had Got To...!

You May Have Wondered Where I Had Got To...!

Well - nowhere, really. I have been here all along, pootling, writing, visiting folks, cooking, washing up, mending, washing and ironing - all of the things I actually enjoy doing! but just not writing an entry for my blog. 

This does not mean I have not been creative. In October, we had a really successful meeting of The Redbridge Rhymesters - the poetry group I run in Wanstead - and we were joined by children from Snaresbrook Primary School. 

Having just celebrated King Charles III's Coronation in May, the theme was "Coronations" - and it was inspiring and encouraging to read the wonderful poetry written by everyone, especially the children.

I read one poem I had written about Queen Elizabeth II's Coronation; we were in Kampala, and even though we were so far away, we felt very much a part of it, and it was a memorable day.

CORONATION DAY IN KAMPALA 1953

 It was a sweltering June in Kampala

With the African sun shining down;

Whilst in a city four thousand and more miles away

The skies opened in grey London town. 

 

There was no television where we lived -

Short-wave radio was all that we heard;

Through crackles and static interference

Richard Dimbleby painted pictures in words.

 

He reported the pageant and colour,

The coaches, the horses; the crowds

Of her jubilant subjects lining the streets

To glimpse the Queen on her way to be crowned.

 

At the Great West Door of the Abbey,

Archbishop Fisher greeted the Queen;

On this day of faith and tradition

Our young Monarch was calm and serene.

 

And when the ceremony arrived at that moment

Of crowning, the congregation responded with cheers:

“Vivat! Vivat! Regina! “

The prayer has echoed down through the years.

 

As a child, I was given a gold model coach,

With a toy Queen and Prince Phillip inside;

Then I just imagined I was there on that day

And joined the celebrations with pride.

 

And later, when newsreels were shown on the screens

In cinemas, all over the world,

In glorious techniclour, we watched: so entranced

As that momentous day unfurled.

 

It was a day when spirits could not be dampened

No matter how heavy the rain;

There was joy, there was pride, renewed hope in all hearts

For this second Elizabeth reign!

Alexandra Wilde

 

The best news came after our poetry session, when their teacher later told me the children were now so enthusiastic about writing and performing poetry, they had set up - of the own accord - their own poetry group. 

That is such encouraging news! and long may it continue. We've set the date for the next session: Tuesday, 26 March 2024; we have not yet got a theme, so it is a case of "Watch this space!"

Then I set to really nice and early, writing Christmas cards, writing letters and e-mails and wrapping Christmas presents for dear friends and loved ones. It was a truly good idea to get started so early, because I finished everything in really good time, and had everything away in the post well ahead of the official last posting dates for Christmas. 

One disappointing note is that one parcel I have sent to a dear friend in Vienna has still not arrived. I paid the extra fee for Track and Trace; to my dismay, I saw that although it had arrived at the office in Heathrow Airport, it did not budge for weeks. Eventually, I rang up a number (I found this with great difficulty - clearly Royal Mail doesn't want to be disturbed!) and spoke to someone about it. He checked the contents I'd packed in the parcel were all legal and valid, there was nothing prohibited included in it, so there should be no reason for it to be delayed. When I last checked, a couple of days ago, it advised the parcel should be on its way to Austria, but there was no further information about its progress. 

I was told if it hadn't been delivered by 29 December, it should be considered lost! and I could make a claim on it; I suppose that is what I shall have to do, unless by some amazing chance it turns up in the next day or so. I am not too hopeful! 

And now we are in the countdown to midnight, and the chimes of Big Ben, heralding the start of a new day and a New Year. We all hope and pray for peace in the world, and that we shall all have happiness, peace and prosperity throughout 2024.

I hope everyone who reads my blog will have a happy time; and watch out for more articles and news and travel in the New Year!

 

 

 

 

 

Where Have The Days Gone?!

Where Have The Days Gone?!

Yes, well; where have they gone? I haven't been lazy, gone into early hibernation, or decided to stop writing... (how could I ever do that?) ... so this is a brief resume of what I have been working on, over the past few weeks.

Visiting Barbara on her 86th Birthday in August was a highlight, and I was also working on a second piece for Welsh Country Life magazine, "The Mountain Spirit That Delights All Who Ride With Her." This has now been published, and has gone down extremely well; as a result, I've been asked to write more articles featuring interesting aspects of Wales.

I'm working on a piece about Welsh slate, with emphasis on Blaenau Ffestiniog, also known as "The Town that Roofed the World" - and I've discovered that is no idle boast. 

I'm not a geologist, so my research about how slate deposits belong to three geological series - Cambrian, Ordovician and Silurian - has been very slow! but I am learning a lot. 

Slate production in Wales has been known since the Roman period. The industry grew slowly until the early part of the 18th century, but during the Industrial Revolution it expanded rapidly; by then, northwest Wales was the most important slate producing area.

The Cambrian deposits run south-west from Conwy to near Criccieth, and were quarried in Penrhyn and Dinorwig and the Nantile Valley.  

The Ordovician deposits run south-west from Betws-y-Coed to Porthmadog, and these were the deposits mined, rather than quarried, at Blaenau Ffestinog.

I have also read about a devastating fire in Hamburg, that broke out in a cigar factory on 5 May 1842. Fifty-one people died; it destroyed 1,700 houses and several important public buildings, and about 70,000 people fled for their lives. The fire was finally extinguished on 8th May, and almost 7 million marks were raised to help survivors of the fire, donations coming from Royal houses of Russia and France, and funds being raised by the cities of London, Antwerp, Rotterdam and St Petersburg, as well as donations from German writers. 

A Technical Commission was established, with a British Engineer, William Lindley, proposing a reconstruction plan for the city, and Hamburg was rebuilt quickly; building with wood was no longer allowed, and brick and stone were used for new buildings. These new regulations also led to a great demand for slate, and Germany became an important market, especially for Ffestiniog slate.

I don't want to give away too much detail about my current "work in progress," but I hope this will have whetted my readers' appetite to read more about the slate industry in Wales, Blaenau Ffestiniog's rise to great production over almost 2 centuries of operation, and its diminishing production and closure in 1955. 

We Celebrate Barbara's Birthday

We Celebrate Barbara's Birthday

It was such a joyful day when at long last, back in April, we met up again with my dear friend, Barbara.  She is now living in a care home, and she is clearly very well looked after; the staff made us so welcome, and we promised it wouldn't be long before we came back to visit her again. 

Barbara celebrates her birthday on 21 August, and I knew this year would be her 86th, so I wanted to make something special just for her alone, and hopefully a really personal gift, that would perhaps help to bring back some happy memories.  

The lady who lives in the house next door to where Barbara used to live had very kindly retrieved some photographs for me. There were three framed studio portraits of Barbara and and her Mum and Dad; whenever I visited Barbara in her house, I remembered seeing them displayed on the mantelpiece, so I was delighted to have those. The frames were in sore need of refurbishment and repair, so Bob got on with making them look like new, and ensuring the back support was good a strong and would stand up properly again. 

Her neighbour had also collected over 130 loose photos as well, so I decided to create a traditional photo album for Barbara's birthday present.

 Barbara's birthday photo album

There followed an interesting 7 or 8 weeks; very few photos had anything written on them to say who the people were, or where the snaps had been taken, so I just had to do my best, and try to get them into some sort of chronological order. I know the family went to Portland Bill in Dorset, because there were several pics of them in front of the lighthouse, sporting a large signpost saying "Portland Bill" - with more arms indicating distances and directions to other places! 

There were also a couple of press prints from the Burton Observer, showing a bridge that had been washed away - presumably in a flood or storm. I wondered if there would be archive information available, so I rang the newspaper, but it's all mobile phone numbers for journalists now, and although I left several messages, no-one came back to me. Sometimes I think they don't want the past to exist. 

Another professional print showed a beautiful wedding group, taken on 16 October 1943; it had been hand tinted as well. The name of the studio - J S Simnett - was printed on the card frame, so I Googled the address of the studio, and to my delight, it is still in business; I found a phone number, and called them. I had a lovely conversation with a lady who was continuing to run it; she was so pleased I had pursued the link, but the sad news was that many years ago, someone in charge of the studio had decided to have "a clear out," and had thrown away many old negatives, appointment books and information. 

What a dreadful thing to do; J S Simnett go back to 1863, so there must have been so much history destroyed by someone who considered it just "junk," with no sense of the importance of ephemera, and primary source material, and how such memories and information are very precious. Thus we shall never know who the happy couple were who wed on 16 October 1943. 

So, I persevered with what I had. There were a couple of pictures of a very strange sea creature; I have no idea what it is! but I have made scans of them and in due course I will try and find out what it is.

 

Does anyone have any ideas? Please let me know if you do!

I wrote a poem for Barbara as well; Bob took a photograph of the lobelia in our garden, and set the poem against the background of flowers. The writing in this picture is a bit small to read the poem easily, so I have included a plain text version at the end of this blog.

A Ballade for Barbara

I also asked another dear friend if she could prepare a family tree for Barbara; My reasoning was, if there is someone at the home where she lives now, and who has the time to go through it with her, it might help Barbara to remember more about her family, and reminisce about happy times she has had, especially if they can be linked to the holiday photos and other people in the album.  

Barbara's birthday dawned a beautiful day, and we set off in good time to get to the home; it's rather a long and difficult drive, and we didn't want to have to rush, or be caught up in heavy traffic.

We arrived just as lunch was ending, and had a cup of tea until Barbara was sitting back in her chair in the lounge; the staff had gone to a lot of trouble to mark Barbara's special day, putting up a "Happy Birthday" banner over her chair. 

Happy Barbara on her 86th Birthday

Opening birthday cards

Barbara and Bob

Barbara had already opened the little gift I had brought for her - a pretty scarf, which she put round her neck - and then we helped her to unwrap the photograph album - it was quite heavy! - and I went through every page, talking about Barbara's family: her Mum and Dad, and the photos that had obviously been taken on happy family holidays. 

Barbara was able to respond occasionally, especially when I could point out the pictures that I knew had been taken, for example, in the west country, like Lynton and Watchet; she would say, "Oh, yes, that's right!" Of course I can't be sure, but I truly hope happy memories came into her mind at those moments.

The staff also thought the Family Tree I had brought for Barbara was a brilliant idea, and they will spend time going through it with her, and help her to recall her family; it will also help them to understand Barbara better, her life and her background.

I also read the special poem I had written for her - emphasising the final line, "....How much we all love you!" 

Barbara with her cards and flowers

Presently, the lovely lady who was in charge that afternoon came in bearing a beautiful chocolate birthday cake, with "Happy Birthday" on it, and the candle lit.

Is that cake for me?!

We tried to encourage Barbara to blow the candle out by herself, but it proved a bit much for her to manage that, so we all helped, and sang Happy Birthday with great gusto; I also recited my poem for Barbara:

A Birthday Ballade for Barbara

 

Every picture tells a story

Either covert or plain view:

How I wish I knew these people

And could share their point of view.

 

There are snaps of family holidays

Of people having fun;

Or lying on some springy grass

Soaking up the sun

 

There are tiny photos, black and white

Some sepia, stiffly posed;

A few hand-tinted specials,

All beautifully composed.

 

The colour prints are fading

Yet what stands out so clear

Is the way that all were cherished;

These loved ones, held so dear.

 

And so it’s been a privilege

A task performed with love and care

To tenderly place these precious prints

In an album for you to share

 

Your memories of times gone by:

Yet still they’re fresh and new;

And never forget, though years may fly,

How much we all love you.

 

Alexandra Wilde

21 August 2023

 

We all clapped our hands to applaud Barbara, and encouraged her to join in the applause - and she did, for a little while; we shared a slice of birthday cake but then, all too soon, it was time for us to leave and start the drive home, as we wanted to avoid the worst of the rush hour. 

We've been invited back whenever we can manage to make the trip, and Bob has promised to bring his guitar again the next time we come, and we will sing and play for Barbara and all the residents. 

We told Barbara we love her, and that we will be back as soon as we can; and I will continue to write to her. I think getting a proper letter in the post is really important, as she will know it is for her alone; there will always be someone available to help her to open it, and read it to her, and let her know we are all thinking of her. 

What a good day; and how lovely to see how caring all the staff in Alexander House are, with all the residents.  

 

 

 

 

 

The Mountain Spirit That Delights All Who Ride With Her

The Mountain Spirit That Delights All Who Ride With Her  

A glorious summery Saturday at Porthmadog; tickets booked for seats in the observation coach on the Ffestiniog and Welsh Highland Railway’s Highland Spirit service – what a wonderful prospect lay before us, and what a memorable trip it turned out to be. 

 

 

The Highland Spirit service runs the full length of the Ffestiniog Railway, from Porthmadog to Bleanau Ffestiniog, where the famous slate was quarried, becoming known as “The Town that Roofed the World.” 

Wendy on the footplate, getting her fix of steam

 We had reserved seats in the Observation Coach, Gwynedd; in celebration of the 150^th anniversary of passenger services on the Ffestiniog Railway, the carriage is numbered 150, in deep purple-brown Victorian livery, lined in gold, with Pullman crests. Inside, it is a luxurious cocoon in which to travel, with beautifully comfortable individual seats covered in deep blue upholstery, and tables crafted from Utile hardwood, related to mahogany, edged with a veneer. The panoramic windows afford the best unobstructed views for the journey.

 

The Observation Coach 150, "Gwynneth"

Happy passenger Bob - in reflection!

The train was coupled up behind the loco Merddin Emrys; she was hauling a total of 10 coaches, and we set off from the Station, chuffing along the Cob (sea wall) causeway, past the River Glaswyn. 

 

 On the Cob

 

The Cob was the brainchild of William Alexander Maddocks, who arranged for the Traeth Marshes, the estuary of the River Glaswyn, to be drained, and a new harbour, Porthmadog, was built in the 1820s. It developed into a busy shipping port, serving the international slate industry. 

 

 

For nearly 200 years, the Cob had been a toll road; until 29 March 2003,  travellers paid 1/= (one shilling – 5 pence) to use it. From 1978, for the last 25 years as its existence as a toll road, the fee was collected by the Rebecca Trust, and the money paid distributed among local charities. In March 2003, the Welsh Assembley Government bought the Cob from the Trust; it became part of the A487 route, linking north and southwest Wales, and the toll was abolished. 

The Toll House is now known as Bridge Cottage, and is still standing. It was adapted as an office for the Parc and Croesor slate quarries and clad in slate to show off their products; a fine example of the beauty of slate and the patterns they can create, it is a fine show house.  

Once across the Cob, our excursion to Blaenau Ffestiniog continued through ever-changing scenery, and during the journey, we were treated to a whole orchestra of sounds from the engine, as it had to increase its efforts climbing the various uphill gradients along the line. 

We were so fortunate to see a slate train passing by us, on the down line to Porthmadog; as it is gravity driven, there is no loco, but runs freely down the hill. There is a brakeman on each wagon to ensure nothing runs away too quickly; all the riders on the wagons smiled and waved as they clattered past – and we happy passengers on the Mountain Spirit service returned their greetings equally enthusiastically! 

The slate train

 

Happy passengers on the slate train!

Our engine was coal fired, using some Welsh coal, but as this is not as abundant as it used to be, it is mixed with other synthetic material, formed into ovoids.

Unfortunately, on this trip, our engine was not entirely happy with the fuel, and it was difficult to keep the steam pressure up; the driver had to keep stopping for a “blow-up” – to get enough pressure to be able to steam to the next station.

  

Trees along the track

 

A glimpse of the lake from the railway track

 

It was then decided that at the next station, Tan-Y-Blwch, our loco would be replaced by another engine, David Lloyd George, which very fortunately was already in steam - this spare loco had been due to go down to Porthmadog and pick up the slate train we had already seen earlier, on its way downhill; instead, it came to our rescue!  

When we reached the station, the change-over was accomplished with the minimum of fuss, and soon we were on our way once more. 

 

 The loco that came to our rescue, David Lloyd George

Travelling round the Deviation Spiral, built between 1965 and 1978, we could see so clearly the ingenuity of those mid-twentieth century railway engineers, allowing the line to traverse Llyn Ystradau (Tanygrisiau Reservoir), created as a lower water storage area for the Tanygrisiau power station. The hydro-electric scheme was proposed by the Central Electricity Generating Board (CEGB), which, from 1958 until privatisation, was responsible for the generation, transmission and sales of electricity in Wales and England.   

We arrived at Bleanau Ffestiniog a little behind schedule; but no-one complained at having had the chance to enjoy extra time on board the Mountain Spirit service.  

Alexandra's turn for a whiff of steam!

All too soon we had to take our seats again in the wonderful observation coach, for the return journey downhill, back to Porthmadog; but how we wished we had had the opportunity to stay longer in Bleanau Ffestiniog, and learn much more about the slate quarrying and how the slates were transported round the world – truly earning the title of “The town the roofed the world!” It has whetted our appetites for an early return visit.

 

Sunset on the longest day of the year - 21 June, 2023 - Meols Beach, Wirral

Sunset On The Longest Day Of The Year - the Summer Solstice: 

21 June, 2023 - Meols Beach, Wirral

We know the Wirral Peninsular well. When Wendy was little, we lived in Birkenhead, and it was lovely to find the area warmer (thanks to being surrounded by water!) than other areas of England. 

When Wendy's Dad was the Naval Engineer Overseer at Cammell Laird in Birkenhead, we first rented a house in Prenton, and then moved to Raby Mere, but we also got to know the other areas too, and that included Meols (pronounced "MELS") and the beach. 

If the weather is clear, the sunsets can be spectacular; this year found us in the area on the longest day of the year, so Wendy suggested we drive to Meols and watch the sunset, and what a beautiful sight it was. 

We parked up on Meols Parade, by the Sandhey Slipway for boats to get on to the water, and settled down to watch the sun sinking down, slipping towards the horizon.

It was such a balmy evening; the sun sank lower and lower, and then - almost suddenly - at 21.45, it was gone.  

Even though we couldn't see the sun anymore, that didn't mean it was completely dark; as the moon appeared, the sky remained "dusky light," and the harshness of the wind farm was softened by the ambient illumination.

Then the moon shone clearly, and we managed to get a photograph of it, with Venus, the Early Evening Star, visible in the sky a little way away. 

(O du, mein holder Abendstern...)  *

Everything was so still, so quiet; it seemed the hubbub of cities, all the rush and tear, either didn't exist or else were a long way away, and we just enjoyed the quiet peace of the day and the evening.

Afterwards, driving home, we felt really blessed to have been able to see such gentle magnificence - so easily enjoyed, no tickets to buy for the show: just sit still, watch, and appreciate the natural splendour. 

 

* I was reminded of the aria from Tannhauser, paean to the Evening Star. Once, years ago, I went to the Planetarium in Johannesburg, and took my seat in the auditorium. As the lights went down, and the theatre went dark, the seats began to tilt backwards, and O du, mein holder Abendstern started to play. It was very gradual, but soon you were left gazing up at the ceiling of the theatre; I remember being told they had a Zeiss projector, and slowly, very slowly, the stars began show and twinkle in the dusk above us. It was magical! and we mustn't forget the name Evening Star has also been immortalised as a famous steam engine as well...! 

After the show, one of the astronomers invited me to view the stars through one of the largest telescopes I had ever seen. As I searched the night sky, I found Saturn; its rings were almost fully open, and one of the scientists said, "Isn't that pretty!"  

Pretty! I thought that didn't even get close to describe well enough how enchanting I found the planet; it was 887 million miles away, and I was viewing it, from here on earth. It was the first time I had seen it, and it was sailing through the sky in all its elegant splendour. That was a night to remember.

 

 

 

   

Lessons From A Cat: How To Achieve Total Relaxation

Lessons From A Cat: How To Achieve Total Relaxation

 

 

So you think you should learn to relax more

To ease the stresses and strains of the day;

To cast off your cares and your worries,

And not care what people might say?  

You think you might like to try yoga,

Or to a little tai chi you could sway?

There are other new-fangled methods

Waiting for you on the way.

 

But my method is well-tried and simple:

Just put your back legs up in the air;

Lie down and relax, with your arms at full stretch

And then turn your head upside down on the chair!

This exercise is perfect - there's no doubt of that;

The best way to relax, is be more like a cat!

When you are a little more practised, try this:

Not only flat out on my back, but almost upside down as well!

Two Wonderful Male Voice Choirs

Two Wonderful Male Voice Choirs

Some years ago, whilst we were in Germany, we met a delightful couple from Finland, and over the years we have become firm friends; the lady also shares Wendy's birthday, so we are regularly in touch for that reason as well!

A couple of months ago, Juhani wrote to say he is a member of a male voice choir called the Muntra Musikanter, and they were coming over to the UK and would be touring in Wales; it would be lovely if we could meet up whilst he was here. 

Well, we were delighted to take up the chance of having a return visit to Wales, and have the opportunity of hearing the Muntra Musikanter and the Caldicot male voice choir, who were hosting them on this trip, perform in concert.

Wendy was also keen to spend a day in Swansea; when we lived in bath, we used to take regular holiday breaks in Swansea, staying at the Mermaid Hotel in the Mumbles, where Dylan Thomas used to hang out (and probably got supremely drunk!) and where we also used to enjoy the regular Friday and Saturday night dinner dances at the Hotel. 

During these holidays, we would also get down to the beach - Caswell Bay, Bracelet Bay, Oxwich Bay - all delightful places with soft sand, ideal for playing and picnicking. Of course the weather is famously unreliable in Wales (not my quote, I hasten to add - but a gentle warning from the Blennau Ffestiniog Railway further north in Wales, to always remember to bring an umbrella!) and we spent many an afternoon playing on the beach and building sandcastles in the rain; and I have the  photographs to prove it!

The weather this time was gentle and kind; we didn't have the luxury of time to go down to all the beaches, but it was lovely to drive along the upper coast roads, and remember the happy times.

After a night in Swansea, we drove back to Newport, which was closer (only 10 miles away) to Caldicot. 

After an early dinner, we arrived at the Caldicot Choir Hall at about 6.00 p.m. and we were made so welcome by the organisers; presently the Muntra Musikanter choir arrived, and had a warm up practice outside. We also met up with our friend Junhani, and it was lovely to see him again.

I had a chance to interview the Chairman of the Muntra Musikanter, and I also talked with the Caldicot Choir, and checked all my facts - and got some new ones! - and then we settled down to enjoy the concert; and what a wonderful evening it proved to be!

After the main part of the concert ended, that was still not the end of the show; all the members of both choirs gathered round for more singing, taking it in turns to sing one song after another, to the delight of their audience. This, I was told later, is called "The Afterglow," and we thought what a brilliant and appropriate name for more joyful singing. 

I said I would love to write a piece about both Caldicot and the Muntra Musikanter choirs, and see if I could get some post-tour praise and publicity for them. Everyone was delighted with that idea, and this is the article I wrote, and which will appear in various magazines over the next couple of months:

START:

In May, from the heart of Helsinki in Finland to Caldicot in the South-East of Wales, two magnificent Male Voice Choirs united to create a memorable evening of music.

The Caldicot Male Voice Choir has 60 members (ranging in age from 26 – 99); for this performance, 50 members took part in the show. The Muntra Musikanter Choir has 120 members, with ages ranging from singers in their 30s to 96 - which surely proves singing is a wonderful way for everyone to keep themselves young, happy and enthusiastic!  

Caldicot Male Voice Choir is based in south Monmouthshire; it is arguably one of the larger and leading male voice choirs in Wales.

It had its beginnings in 1962, following the completion of the giant steelworks at Llanwern near Newport, which employed many experienced steelworkers, particularly from Port Talbot and Ebbw Vale. Providing housing for the steel workers led to a huge increase in the population of small communities like Caldicot, and it was soon realised there was no male voice choir in the area.

In 1963, the founding members of the choir - Roy Hogan, Len Waters and Josh Grindle - held an informal meeting at the Cross pub in Caldicot. They approached Ralph Hodges who became the choir’s first musical director, and then knocked on doors, persuading colleagues to join what became the Caldicot and District Male Voice Choir.

Great oaks from little acorns grow! Their first concert was held on 12 October 1964; they soon established themselves as a successful choir, and over the years have created an impressive list of performances, being honoured in 2018 to sing at Buckingham Palace to celebrate the 70^th birthday of the then Prince of Wales, now King Charles III, and for Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II at her Golden Jubilee. The Choir has also enjoyed great success competing at National Eisteddfodau, tours on P&O cruise ships and various stadia throughout the country. They have been delighted to share a stage with internationally famous singers such as Luciano Pavarotti, Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo at Wembley Stadium and, more recently, and among many others, they have performed with Welsh tenors Rhys Meirion, Aled Wyn Davies and Aled Hall, and have also sung with Bryn Terfel; hearing him sing Kyrie Eleison in Welsh at King Charles III’s Coronation was a spine-tingling moment!

In 1996, following a huge fundraising effort and lottery grant, the choir’s own concert and practice hall was built. It is the envy of all the choirs who have visited it, and is unique in that it is the only one in Wales (and probably in the UK) that has been purpose-built and acoustically designed for a male voice choir.

 Through its concert performances, each year the choir raises several thousands of pounds for local and national charities. To facilitate its charity commitments, it performs at private functions and Company events; it also provides opportunities for rising new young singers at the start of their careers.

Apart from performing in Wales, the choir tours regularly and extensively throughout the British Isles, Europe and America.

The Muntra Musikanter (The Merry Musicians) Choir from Helsinki in Finland had its beginnings in 1878; it was first known as “P.C.”, which was short for Petersburg Concert, and referred to a concert trip planned to take place in that city. Although that concert fell through, the Choir survived, and gave its first performance on 11 May 1878. Later, it became known as the “Sällskapet MM (the Muntra Musikanter Society) and has rejoiced in that happy name ever since.

From its earliest days, the Choir has travelled extensively, performing all over Europe and this year is enjoying its 145^th anniversary concert tour. It is one of the oldest performing male voice choirs in Finland, and has gone from strength to strength, performing regularly in concerts both in Finland and in Europe, including Wales and England, and further abroad in Malta and the USA.

The Muntra Musikanter Choir is also the proud owner of the oldest “Spex” performing art tradition in Finland. “Spex” originally began as Swedish student comedy productions, rather akin to the British panto tradition, with men performing the female roles, and creating parodies of operatic arias or popular hits. They are always amateur productions, with lots of improvisation, and audience participation is actively encouraged!

The Choir has a brilliant Conductor, Riku Laurikka; he is a graduate from the Sibelius Music Academy in Helsinki, and joined the Choir in February 2021.

The pieces chosen by both choirs, although very different, all created “pictures in our heads,” inspired by the amazing sound effects produced by their wonderful voices; from delicate whispers to full-throated orchestral resonance, it was not just to be listened to, but was an experience of an exceptional sound, created by those voices alone.

Accompanied by John Nicholson, The Caldicot Choir’s Musical Director, Sian Hatton and Shirley Anne James conducted the singers through a varied programme of songs, from rousing musical numbers such as “76 Trombones” to poignant reminiscences in “The Miners’ Song,” by Dan and Laura Curtis, written in 2013, as a tribute to fallen miners. Closing their part of the concert was a stirring rendition of the Welsh National Anthem, “Land of Our Fathers.”

The Muntra Musikanter’s programme included works by Elgar and Finnish, Swedish and Estonian composers focussing on the forces of nature, and ancient songs of the sea; they also delighted their audience in Caldicot by performing a song in Welsh, “Calon Lan” – Pure Heart – beautifully sung, and such a compliment to their hosts. Their final piece was Sibelius’ “Finlandia,” sung with great joy and pride.

The Choir has an impressive list of recordings to their name; “Prime” was released on Spotify in 2020, and video performances can also be viewed on YouTube.

During their tour of Wales, Muntra Musikanter also performed at Llandaff Cathedral, and gave another concert at St John’s Church in Cardiff.

The Chairman of the choir, Sam Simonsen, said their future programme includes plans for further tours of Europe and Japan.

Last year, the Caldicot Male Voice Choir also sang in Llandaff Cathedral in a joint concert with the North Dakota University Choir, and their future plans include another performance at the Royal Albert Hall on 27 April next year. Recordings of their concerts can be found on YouTube and Facebook.

Both choirs will continue to be much in demand and enjoyed by everyone who has the pleasure of attending their concerts. 

END 

                                                           The Caldicot Male Voice Choir

     The Muntra Musikanter (The Merry Musicians)

     

The Caldicot Male Voice Choir - in relaxed dress and in full voice!

 

   

  

Flying At Fifty!

Flying At  Fifty!

At the surprise birthday party organised by Al and Dani and all Wendy's friends, she was presented with delightful birthday gifts, several specially marked "50" birthday balloons, and a large badge, which she wore with pride. 

Wendy brought everything home to share with us, and she also wrote thank you letters to everyone who had been so kind to her. 

After our regular celebrations with the cake and candles, and opening birthday cards, we took some photos of Wendy with the balloons and one picture in particular inspired me to write a birthday sonnet for Wendy, to celebrate her significant birthday:

WENDY: FLYING AT FIFTY!

I have already read it to Wendy, and she is delighted with it. Bob has designed a surround to go with the poem, and will frame it for her - the latest addition to go on Wendy's wall!

 

We Meet Up With Dear Friends

We Meet Up With Dear Friends

28 April, 2023 - it was such an auspicious day! Apart from being what would have been Uncle John's 100th birthday - and a wonderful time to remember and celebrate his life - it was also the date we arranged to meet up with our dear friends who were in London. 

Nancy and her daughter Kim are the daughter and granddaughter of Mum's dear friend, Gertie Reynolds; Nancy and her family live in America now, and it was just a flying visit, but we have always taken the view that if we have only 10 minutes to see someone, any effort made to get together, no matter for how short a time, it is worth every effort to be there!

As I have already written, our friendships go back a very long time, back to the 1960s, when Mum and Grandma lived in Stanbury Court in Durban, and we were so happy that we would all be able to meet up at last. 

Bob did a preliminary "recce" to find us a nice restaurant - I'm a bit difficult to cater for, as I like my food very plain and not, in the expression of our northern roots, "All Mucked Abaht!" It can be quite difficult to find a place that does not think adding spices and goodness knows what else to a dish will improve it; that does not work for me! I like to see what I am getting, and the most I ever add to anything is perhaps a little salt on the side of my plate; once all the "extras" have been piled on top, it is  quite ruined for me. I think it is because I quite like the taste of the food itself, and I also prefer everything well done; but sometimes I get the feeling a lot of chefs seem to forget that it is we who are paying the bill, and so my wishes should be respected.

Whenever I go for tea at Fortnum and Mason, I have to make sure my request for a platter of very simple, "plain white bread and butter, with just cucumber in them, sandwiches" is noted clearly on the reservations; they always produce what I like, but even then, I also request more butter, because there is never enough on the bread for me!

Bob found a restaurant called The Scarsdale Tavern that looked really nice: a proper English pub that hadn't been modernised, and turned into what we call a "chromium-plated modern pub" complete with name change! (Do we really want to eat in an established now rejoicing in the name of "The Slug and Lettuce?!") We don't often frequent pubs, but if we ever do, we prefer to be somewhere called "The Crown," "The Bell," or "The Royal Oak" - all names that mean something, and have an historical reference.

 

Bob had lunch at the Scarsdale Tavern, and pronounced it really good. On the menu is plain battered fish and chips, all well done, and no eyebrows raised at the order! So, we booked a table for 5 - Nancy, her daughter Kim, Wendy, Bob and me - and arranged to meet Nancy and Kim at their hotel at 12.00 o'clock.

 

 

 ...And the man in charge of the bar, Felix Wareing!

It was wonderful to see Nancy and Kim at last, and so good to have some gentle time over a leisurely lunch to catch up on each other's news and what we have all been doing during the intervening years.

It just felt like the time in between had simply slipped away, and we all remembered Durban, and Gertie, and my Mum and Grandma in Stanbury Court, as though it was yesterday.  

I was so glad that Nancy and Kim also had the chance to see some of the wonderful decorations up in place for King Charles' Coronation - it was a shame they couldn't have stayed in London longer, to see the pageantry for themselves, but at least when they returned home, they were able to watch every minute on the t.v. - just like us, and we were only a few miles away from the centre of London!

Since Nancy and Kim returned to Florida, we are now looking forward to the next time when we can meet up and enjoy a happy reunion in London!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mum's Dear Friend, Gertie

Mum's Dear Friend, Gertie

Back in the 1960s, having lived in a couple of different houses a bus ride outside of the city, my Mum and Grandma moved to a flat in Stanbury Court, in Durban. It was very central, and convenient for my Mum to be able to walk to work, and there was a Checkers supermarket close by as well, so very handy for the shopping.

My Mum and Grandma were very happy there, and the people living in the other flats in the block were kind and friendly, so it was a very good move. 

Over the years, and especially after Wendy was born, Mum and Grandma flew home to England every couple of years or so. South African Airways flights were expensive and, as a woman, even though she was doing the same accountancy work as the male members of staff, Mum's pay was nothing like that earned by a man, so she had to save up very diligently to pay their air fares. 

In 1980, we thought it was about time we took on some of the visiting commitments, so in the February, we flew out to Durban for 7 weeks - it was a wonderful time. Our holiday covered Bob's 50th birthday, our anniversary, my birthday in March, Easter, and Wendy's 7th birthday in April. It was quite a trip!  We hired a car, and also fitted in a couple of visits to the Drakensberg: on the first occasion, we drove to Sani Pass, which is more in the foothills of the mountains, and on our second visit, we stayed at Champagne Castle, where the air is indeed like wine. You awaken naturally at the crack of dawn, but you are also nodding and ready for bed equally early in the evening! Other day trips (very long day trips, I hasten to add!) found us in the Valley of 1,000 Hills; Port Shepstone (a two hour drive there, and a two hour drive back- a long way from Durban to get afternoon tea on the South Coast!) where, for a short while when I was 9 years old, I went to school at St Dominic's Convent; and so much more. We also drove to the Oribi Gorge, which had been carved out by the Mzimkulwana River; at the time we were there, there had been so little rain, the mighty flow was reduced to a gentle trickle, so it took quite a leap of the imagination to picture the power of a river that had created such a deep gorge. You had to be very careful not to go in the water; there were signs up warning unwary tourists of the dangers of bil harzia, a parasite with an extremely specific mode of transmission. It is carried by a snail common in fresh water and will infect any unwary human - or animal - daring to go in the water; it enters through the tiniest opening in the skin, and is a horrible infection. 

Apart from our sojourn in Champagne Castle, we took Mum and Grandma with us on all our sightseeing visits, and they really enjoyed it. We also took strolls along the Durban sea front, and thoroughly enjoyed spending time in the children's playground, where there were gentle rides and slides, and fun things to do. Grandma and Mum were game for everything, and Wendy was delighted with every moment we were there.

At the far end of the beach front was the multi-storey Fairhaven Hotel; positioned high up on the wall was the famed red neon Coca Cola sign, that at night would light up in a sequence: first, after the neon lights flashed into life, spokes lit up in turn, like the lines leading to the numbers on a clock face. Then these lines would go round and round, before flashing on and off for a time, before becoming completely dark for a few seconds. Then the lights would be back on, and the whole pattern would begin all over again. 

It made a huge impression on Wendy, and she remembers it to this day; it was such a feature, and she wasn't the only one to be very sad to hear the sign had been removed, and no longer stands as a landmark at the end of the beach.

We also had the wonderful opportunity to meet Mum's dear friends and neighbours, and especially a lady called Gertie. She was such a dear and faithful friend, and after our holiday was over and we had to return to England, we stayed in touch all the years afterwards, writing letters and of course keeping the contact through my Mum and Grandma, who remained in Durban.

After our trip, Mum and Grandma made the decision to return to England permanently. After so many years in East and South Africa, it was quite a difficult decision to make! but they realised conditions in the UK had improved considerably since they had lived up north in the 1940s! We now had central heating, and cars had heaters, so the cold weather was not an obstacle to put them off such a life-changing move. Gradually, Mum made all the arrangements, organising the furniture to be packed and ready for transporting back to the UK; their flights were booked for the end of March, 1985.

But then disaster struck.  Two days before they were due to leave, Grandma had a fall, and broke her hip. She had surgery to fit a Richards Pin and Plate to mend it, but it meant that instead of them coming home to us, Wendy and I flew out to Durban to be with them. Grandma was in hospital for 6 weeks, and made gradual progress; she had daily physiotherapy, and was encouraged to get out of bed and start walking again with a zimmer frame. I took heart when she was flirty and teasing the young physio therapist (she said: "If I learn to walk, will you take me dancing?" and his immediate reply was "You learn to walk, and I'll definitely take you dancing!") but it became more a case of one step forward and then two steps back. 

I was also sad to observe how little the auxiliary staff understood about people who were deaf. Grandma could lip read very well, but you had to attract her attention and then she would know to look at you whilst you talked to her; in the hospital, catering staff would come in to the door way of the ward, with a trolley of lovely hot drinks, and call out, "Tea? Coffee? Milo?" but of course Grandma couldn't hear them! and so she would miss out on a nice cup of tea. 

After 6 weeks, Grandma was discharged from hospital, and we were so worried about Mum having to cope on her own, looking after Grandma; but Wendy and I had to return to London and at least, before we left, we saw her back in her own little bedroom at home again. 

Mum did her best to keep her going, but it was all downhill from then on, and Grandma died at home, on 6 June.  She was 91 3/4, but I am sure, if it hadn't been for the misfortune of the fall, Grandma would have lived to an even riper old age.  She was always full of energy, had all her marbles, and was ready to help Wendy when she was learning French at school; she always had hope for the future, and plans for doing things.

Grandma passed away just into the early hours of the morning, and Mum was terribly upset.

Of course, Mum rang us as soon as she knew Grandma had gone; to this day, Wendy hates getting phone calls in the early hours of the morning, they bring back memories of a very sad time, and it was made even more difficult, by the fact Mum and Grandma were so many thousands of miles away.  

We had already decided that we would bring Grandma home to England. We would have the funeral service here, and she would be laid to rest in the family grave in Liverpool; but there was so much to be organised, and Mum was grateful for every bit of care and help she was given. 

Although it was the middle of the night when Grandma died, Gertie proved how strong and close her friendship with Mum was; she came to Mum, and stayed with her and Grandma, bringing comfort and strength during the long dark hours until morning came, when Mum could start making the phone calls to the Doctor, and the Funeral Directors.

Mum never forgot how kind and understanding Gertie was, particularly on that night; and I stayed in touch with Gertie until she passed away in 1995. We were very sad to have lost such a dear friend, and her warmth and kindness live on in our hearts. 

Gertie Reynolds, centre, with two friends, Moira and Lillian

And then, we have been blessed to be able to continue our family friendship with Nancy, Gertie's daughter, who now lives in America; and so it has continued to this day.

How wonderful it is, that this April we have finally been able to meet up, and strengthen still further our ties of love and care with each other's families. 

There are some really good and kind people in the world.