Freedom of movement

I’m back on board Blackbird after some gallivanting and it is lovely to be in my dear home. I’m so privileged to have a home and to be free to wander to and from it, travelling abroad where and when I want to. But as with most privileges, we often don’t value what we have and, more importantly, don’t realise that the majority of the world’s inhabitants don’t have that basic freedom of movement.
Since the closure of the Sangatte refugee camp in Calais in 2002, migrating people are still living a precarious life, camping in the squats and sand-dunes along the French coast. Every day, they are harassed and often beaten by the police, neither allowed to stay there, nor allowed to cross the border. It’s the UK Border Agency that pay for this policing.
This harsh policing is reflected along the European borders, that don’t hamper our own movement, but keep ‘Them’ out. We know who ‘They’ are – people from the other side of an invisible and arbitrary line, drawn on the world by a bunch of so-called leaders I certainly didn’t vote for. Turns out that the line stops where the predominantly non-white populations begin.
Money and commodities flow freely of course. Cheap migrant labour can visit for a short while only. Meanwhile, we ‘explore’ and exploit the world freely, taking from it what we want. We use the equivalent of slavery to get our stuff as cheaply as possible from poor countries and when those people unionise at huge personal risk (death squads and ‘disappearances’), we drop them in favour of an even cheaper supply. Our ‘needs’ cause wars over oil, minerals, drugs, cheap food. Yet when someone tries to escape their situation for a better life, they are hunted down, imprisoned and sent back. Instead of fighting for equality across the world, we pursue a policy of greater acquisition and increasing exclusion. Our wealth increases and the walls get higher.

I know this is just another rant against the racist and unjust border controls that are surreptitiously tightening all the time, excluding more and more people. But I don’t know if people think much about the individuals concerned. When we remember those who died in the second world war, for example, I don’t think of the vast numbers (around 60 million I believe) but of the individuals and their own stories of suffering and that of their families. What it might have been like for that single person buried now in this little churchyard. There are about 60 million refugees and displaced people in the world today, who would rather be peacefully at home, like me. And every single one of them has a personal story of a family, loves, hopes and fears.
I think of them, individually, and take some small comfort in knowing that sooner or later, all walls must fall.

Carnaby for sale!

Looks like BW are selling their old workboat Carnaby by auction. Says it's a 1937 motor works boat. Looked it up on the GUCC site and it's listed as: CARNABY; No 134, Large Woolwich motor boat, built 1937, Regd at Coventry No 542, Owned by BW as a maintenance boat (2000) and based at Marsworth. Shortened tug format. Looks like it was once a lot bigger!
I wonder if it would be too mad to try and buy it.

Lucky me

A couple of days ago, I went to see my two kids (both in their 20's) in Oxford. My daughter's been there a few years now but my son's only just arrived after working abroad. By chance, his new job is in Oxford! As we parted at the end of the day, I looked back at them walking together up the street, chatting and laughing, good friends that they are. My heart nearly burst with love.

Adventures in miniature

I've had some lovely days out and about over the last couple of weeks, even though the boat has barely moved. In leighton Buzzard, Simon and I went on the steam train which was good fun. I liked the way a man had to run out with a flag whenever we crossed over roads. Not all the car drivers felt like waving back at a bunch of idiots, leaning out of miniature carriages eating ice-lollies - ha! The little engine is beautiful (pic from Wikipedia)

We went to play pool in the Wheatsheaf pub in town where there's a gorgeous wreck of a piano, guarded over by a seargeant-major-type bust who kept his upper lip stiff, even when Simon was playing. I see the website shows the carving too.
I went for a little camping break, just me, my bike and a tent. It felt really good cycling along the towpath, not having to worry about cars and going too slowly to worry anyone else. First day, I went as far as Stoke Bruerne, stopping for lunch at Camphill cafe - a vegetarian cafe advertised on the canal at Milton Keynes. The plain sign doesn't do it justice as it's a great little place, with theatre and cottage garden adjoined and very popular locally, judging by the numbers turning up for lunch! After that, I stopped for coffee at narrowboat Hadar where the ever-hospitable Jo and Keith kept me in cosseted comfort while the rain lashed down outside. It was interesting to see how tactful and accommodating they have been towards other coal traders and respectful of other's 'pitches', not at all how most businesses are run on a cut-throat mentality.
After that, I pressed on to Blisworth tunnel and pitched my tent before heading to the Boat Inn where I'd read the local Morris side came on Wednesays. I wasn't disappointed - they turned up for a drink and I wheedled my way into going along to their practice session, which involved walking from the pub with our pints to the village hall. They are the Rose and Castle morris group and a friendly bunch I hope to meet again. In fact I see they are performing at the Bromyard Folk Festival on Sept 10th - 12th which looks tempting.
The next day, I cycled on up to Crick, passing the dreamboat Carnaby and getting quite lost above the tunnel (no signs!). Then I was into beautiful Northamptonshire rolling countryside where my breaks failed. Hey-ho! Another two nights camping in fields and, even though I did manage to get new break-blocks, I took the easy way out by getting a train home to the boat.
I've been making blackberry jam and elderberry cordial and got chatting to Mike and Jenny on historic narrowboat 'Ajax' who have explained where I can find lots of plums. Hmmm... sounds like I need to plan another little bike adventure :-)

on fishing

I consider fishing to be a cruel torture of sentient creatures but recognise that there are some situations whereby humans need to eat fish to survive. So I was happy to come across a piece of graffiti that expressed my own feelings on the subject...

Lusting after boats

Here's a couple of pics of Carnaby, a work boat I would like to have as my next boat home - sigh.




And here's what I'd like to do with all that hold...

pie

Simon made us this fine pie with apples from his own garden. With vegan custard too, which I don't think I've ever had before.
Beautiful to look at and delicious to eat :-)