Lunch In Copenhagen
I had lunch in Copenhagen, by a canal that was lined with restaurants.
A Restaurant-Lined Canal
The food was good, but it was probably served at the slowest pace I’d ever received. I was so bored at one point, that I took to taking a photo of the chair opposite.
An Unsuitable Chair
Why do you put such a chair in a restaurant? It’s impossible to put your coat over the back of it, so I used the chair next to me for my coat. So they might have lost a cover because of the unsuitable chairs.
In the end, this restaurant ruined my afternoon, as they were so slow on service, I didn’t have time to visit the Jewish Museum in Copenhagen. I’ve always been fascinated, as was my father, about how the Danes got most of their Jews out of the country to Sweden, after the Nazi invasion.
At least though I ate well! Albeit very slowly!
Is There A Cardigan Gene?
My father liked to wear cardigans and so does my son. So is this in our genes?
I obviously don’t have that particular gene, as I’ve never worn a cardigan.
On the other hand, C had lots of them!
By The River Rhone And Lac Leman
You’re never far from water in Geneva.
I tried to get a picture of the sun creating a rainbow in the fountain, but I failed.
Note that I have called the lake Lac Leman. My father said that he lived in the city for some time, when he worked at the League of Nations. He may or may not have worked there, but he was particular, that it was called Lac Leman. According to a friend, locals always call it thus. In some ways my father was secretive about his past, but the more I find, the more his tales ring true.
The Duchess Wows Them In A £38 TopShop Dress
This is another story from the Standard. Here’s the intro.
The Duchess of Cambridge has got great legs and she’s not afraid to show
them. Nor is she afraid of a hefty spring breeze. This morning, attending a
tour of the studios at which the Harry Potter films were created, she wore a
thigh skimming polka-dot dress from high-street retailer Topshop.
One of the pictures on the site, shows Lady Verulam meeting the Duke and Duchess. I suspect, that her father in-law was the guy who gave me my first real job at Enfield Rolling Mills. As the company was my father’s biggest client, he just phoned up the Earl and asked if they had a suitable job for a sixteen-year-old. My father was a great believer in the old maxim, that if you don’t ask nicely, you don’t get!
An Afternoon Of Rhinitis
Yesterday was fairly typical of what I go through. My nose seems to run from the time I get up until I go to bed.
An Afternoon Of Rhinitis
The picture shows all the tissues I got through in a couple of hours.
It used to be bad when I was a child, I can remember my mother constantly boiling up handkerchiefs on the stove, both for myself and my father, who was similarly effected.
But it’s never been as bad as this.
It seems to have started when I was in hospital in Hong Kong, and it just seems to be getting worse and worse.
Could it be long term effects of the Warfarin?
Mothering Sunday At Carluccio’s
I got to Carluccio’s in Canary Wharf for a late breakfast.
There were obviously a few parties celebrating Mothering Sunday, but surprisingly, there were several singletons of both sexes. There certainly appeared to be more than usual, but then I was half-an-hour or so earlier.
You’d have thought that on this day, where mothers and their partners and children tend to celebrate, that dining alone wouldn’t have been so common.
I know that as a widower, who has lost his mother and contact with his two daughters-in-law, I am a bit short in the mother stakes. But my family has always been like that, with no woman having given birth on my father’s side with the coeliac gene, since 1820, that I can find.
Still those genes, when linked to my mother’s Huguenot ones gave me a strong survival instinct and I like to think an active and fertile mind.
Gareth Bale, Cliff Jones and Taffy O’Callaghan
Tottenham Hotspur have a tradition of Welsh players, who were fast and skilful.
The one, I’ve seen most was Cliff Jones, who was an integral part of the Spurs double side and a few years afterwards. On form he could be brilliant and he could tear defences apart with his speed, in a manner not unlike that of Gareth Bale. What is often forgotten about Cliff Jones, is that on the death of John White and the retirement of Danny Blanchflower, he played much more as a midfield playmaker, rather than an outright winger. In some ways, isn’t this how another Welsh footballer;Ryan Giggs’s career has progressed at Manchester United?
I’ve put Taffy O’Callaghan in this post, as my father felt he was an amazing footballer from before the Second World War. He was supposed to be fast and my father told me that the team of those days was nicknamed the ‘greyhounds’, which is confirmed in Wikipedia. My father always said, he’d never seen anybody hit a football so hard. And they weren’t the lightweight balls of today!
We all know that Gareth Bale is good, but I won’t compare him directly, with his two predecessors. Although, it is informative to read Cliff Jones thoughts on Gareth Bale in this report on the BBC. In the article Cliff Jones doesn’t say that Real Madrid and others courted him continuously in the 1960s, but he stayed at Tottenham.
Perhaps being Welsh, he preferred the green grass at home?
There is also this article on Gareth Bale in the Guardian, which has this priceless quote from Blanchflower about yet another Welsh football legend; John Charles.
Everything he does is automatic. When he moves into position for a goal chance it is instinctive. Watch me and you’ll see I am seconds late, but all my thinking has to be done in my head. My feet do not do my thinking for me as they do for him.
The article says this could be applied to Gareth Bale. But then Blanchflower knew his football, both on and off the field. He was a unique talent himself!
My Father Was A Real Cockney
My father was born in Islington and although he had all the rhyming slang and other knowledge, he never called himself a real Cockney, who was born within the sound of Bow Bells. Today, he wouldn’t have been, but when he was born in 1904, he would probably have been born inside the area, as indicated by this map.
I went past the church of St. Mary-le-Bow today and took some pictures.
According to the map, I think that both my maternal grandparents and possibly my paternal grandfather, were all born in the required area. So I could be three-quarter Cockney.
Football On Christmas Day
Danny Baker on his program today, asked if anybody had been into a football ground on Christmas Day.
I phoned up and said that I’d been to a match at White Hart Lane on Christmas Day morning. Danny was rather sceptical, to say the least!
I remember that we went to do an hour or so’s work in my father’s print works, as he was rather a workaholic to say the least. We then drove to the ground from Wood Green. I’m not certain, who we played, but it was somewhere in the mid-1950s and it could have been Luton Town.
We then went home for a late Christmas lunch.
I did find a bit of history about Christmas Day football here.
One thing that they must have had in those days was a decent public transport system over the holidays. And ASLEF wouldn’t have been on strike.
Liverpool, Glasgow And Belfast
These three cities in the UK have for centuries had their troubles between Catholics and Protestants.
I grew up in London, which before the Second World War wasn’t without its religious troubles. But that generally involved anti-Semitism and those on the far right. My father was a staunch anti-fascist and claimed he was at the Battle of Cable Street. I suspect he was, and I know he used to write Cockney poetry about the war. Sadly none has srvived although, I can remember a few phrases.
He didn’t like Catholics because of the Pope’s support for Hitler in the War and my mother being of a Huguenot line didn’t like them either. But it was nothing more than the odd barbed comment, when say a new Pope was elected. I don’t think either of my parents ever saw the inside of a church except for the odd wedding.
This lack of religion, probably helped to push me towards being agnostic and of course now, I’m someone, who doesn’t believe in any religion. But that is not to say, I don’t follow the humanist principles of most of the major religions.
Going to Liverpool in the early 1960s, was the first time, I really came across religion in tooth and claw. With the massive Anglican Cathedral and the new Roman Catholic one under construction, I couldn’t avoid the fact, that I was in a city that took its religion seriously. In those days, there were parades by both Catholics and Orangemen. But any trouble had dropped off in the previous few years. Was it because the people of Liverpool developed healthy interests in music and football? But other factors were also at work inside the Anglican and Catholic churches. Although this pre-dates the partnership between Archbishop Derek Worlock and the Bishop David Sheppard, I think in the 1960s, the people of Liverpool thought they’d had enough of religious rivalries, that got out of hand.
It was then that I met C’s friend, Maureen, who was the daughter of a Presbyterian Minister and missionary from Belfast. Her tales of her home city painted a very different picture of life in Northern Ireland.
It was at that time too, that I had my first experience of Scotland, when I went to Glasgow to see Spurs play against Celtic in the Glasgow Cup. It was the first time, I saw serious football violence, as a Rangers supporter appeared in the non-segregated crowd and was promptly thumped by most of the Celtic fans around me. It’s not to say there wasn’t violence in England at the time, but in matches at Portman Road, White Hart Lane, Anfield and Goodison Park, I’d never experienced any at first hand.
Over the years, I’ve visited Belfast a few times and been rather horrified at all of the flags and religious symbols. I once went into Shorts factory in Belfast and couldn’t believe the bigoted displays I saw. If I were to put up similar posters and flags on my house attacking any religion, I’d be arrested.
In Glasgow it’s not so open, but read any forum about Rangers and Celtic and you’ll find language you never find on similar forums involving say Spurs and Arsenal or Liverpool and Everton.
I go to Liverpool regularly and even went to see the Olympic torch in the city, where the Archbishop enjoyed the parade with everybody else.
So how come Liverpool has come to terms with its religious divides and in Belfast and to a certain extent, Glasgow, they seem to be getting worse?
The Anonymous Widower 
