World Series badminton

Event Control Room, Birmingham Utilita Arena, March 2025

The other fun event that took place last week was my volunteering at the 'All England' badminton tournament, for the second time. Apparently the new anonymised application process put some of the seasoned volunteers off so they were very short of people. Last year in the Event Control Room there was the boss plus three volunteers; this time the team was down to one person for some of our shifts.

I skipped the volunteer orientation meeting which took place on Monday evening, since last year it was only just worth it, I know the ropes, and I had board games, a study group and Monday badminton that afternoon and evening. Tuesday started very early with the 6.25 a.m. train into Birmingham for the start to my shift at 7.30 a.m. I was welcomed very warmly and recognised quite a few people from last year. The ECR setup was much the same, passing messages between teams and the venue and logging any issues to make sure they were dealt with. I had a similarly early start on Wednesday and Thursday, then I was on the late shift on Friday and Saturday, finishing after 10pm. Sunday was Finals day so only five matches played, but they were long matches, and then I helped with packing up the ECR screens, radios and the rest.

There were no free tickets for volunteers this year, because apparently last year some were being sold on. But UJ messaged me to say that her boyfriend had two tickets that he wasn't going to use, and I found two of my badminton friends who were happy to take them. I went up to the arena to watch a few matches between shifts, and sometimes during shifts as well when it was quiet. Most of the time it was quiet, with issues like banners falling down, checking that it was OK to open the doors to the public, and IT glitches. There were a couple of exciting incidents involving members of the public behaving badly, a volunteer falling down stairs who needed crutches, and another volunteer who made some inappropriate comments to members of the management team in the evening at the hotel, probably fuelled by drink, and then didn't have the sense to apologise next day. He was ejected from the venue and accreditation withdrawn.

We had six screens going most of the time, showing our logging spreadsheet, the list of radios and who was carrying them, the seven-court practice area, the two-court warm up area, the live play on court and the broadcast feed. On Saturday another screen appeared showing the rugby (there were three matches that day) and on Sunday there was some sort of football cup final. I preferred the badminton.

The key to their success from my point of view is that the people in charge - the Event Director and his team - are universally and individually lovely. They really seem to care that volunteers enjoy themselves. We were also thanked personally by Badminton England's President and some other official personages. I would definitely do it again next year if they'll have me (I think they will). 

A day out in Warwick

Lord Leycester Hospital and West Gate, March 2025

My goodness I've been having fun, hence lack of substantive blogging. Recently there have been a couple of significant bloggable things for a change, so here goes with the first episode.

Chatting to one of the new people that I've met through the U3A walking group I happened to mention that I'd never been to Warwick as a tourist. Warwick is very close to Leamington - I sometimes walk along the river to a Warwick park and back. I've been to Warwick Castle long ago with my nephew, but that's more a theme park than part of Warwick itself, and very expensive to visit. The Warwick Folk Festival is within the grounds of the Castle and extends various musical offerings to the town, so I've had a look at some of that. I even got married in Warwick, but after the ceremony we went straight to Stratford for a meal. The U3A walker suggested a few places to visit, I did my homework, and bought a day return for only £1.55 on the train (with my Senior Railcard).

I decided that there were four places I wanted to visit - the Lord Leycester, the Market Hall Museum, St Mary's Church and Hill Close Gardens. A tour of the Lord Leycester was advertised at 11am and supposed to last for 45 minutes to an hour, so I thought I could do that first and something else in the afternoon. Luckily it was a beautiful sunny day, which made the whole experience much more pleasant.

The Lord Leycester is an unbelievably old medieval building dating back to the 12th century, which has offered housing to ex-members of the armed forces since the 16th century, and to the local Guilds before that. Twelve servicemen and their families still live there now and are known as Brethren, led by the Master (who is currently a woman). Brother Ken led the tour I was on, and it became clear that it wasn't going to be finished in an hour, let alone 45 minutes. He was a very chatty Irishman who had served in the Irish Guards, and he certainly gave us value for money. So it was definitely lunchtime by the time the tour ended.

After lunch I didn't fancy going back to the Lord Leycester even though there was more I'd have liked to see. The ticket is valid for a year and also covers Hill Close Gardens, so I'll have to find another spare day for that. Instead I chose to go to the Market Hall Museum, which has a lot of local geology and dinosaur fossils and social history and silver hoards and a stuffed bear and an ancient Irish Deer skeleton and a working beehive with Perspex sides so you can see inside. 

Market Hall Museum

One of the most impressive exhibits was a white model of Warwick town with iPads attached. You turn the iPad on, point its camera at the model and it displays a photographic overlay of the town which moves as you move, and you can click for more information. It actually gave information about the great fire that wiped out loads of Warwick in 1694 (thatched houses were not allowed in the town afterwards), but I was bowled over just by the technology.

The best exhibit, and the real reason why I chose to go to the museum, is the Sheldon tapestry of Warwickshire dating from around 1590. There are four tapestries still around, and Lola II and I saw the Oxfordshire one in the Weston Library in Oxford in 2022. Well, the Warwickshire one is complete rather than fragmentary, and is absolutely wonderful - well worth a visit.

After that I headed home, with two sites unvisited and more to see at the Lord Leycester, and if I'm in the area anyway I'd probably go back for another peek at the tapestry as well.

Lord Leycester Chapel - no electricity to this day

What I've been reading

Mother London
by Michael Moorcock

"The book follows three mental-hospital outpatients and their friends, in an episodic, non-linear history of the capital from the Blitz to present day. The main character is London itself - the towpaths, pubs, bombed churches and neglected marble angels."

Quite an interesting book, and another from the Classics list - I've now come to expect these Classic books to have very little story or plot. Someone who knows London well would probably enjoy walking along with the characters through familiar streets. I can't quite put my finger on why I enjoyed reading it, but I did.

Julia
by Sandra Newman

"London, chief city of Airstrip One, the third most populous province of Oceania. It's 1984 and Julia Worthing works as a mechanic fixing the novel-writing machines in the Fiction Department at the Ministry of Truth."

This is the companion piece to Nineteen Eighty-Four, written from the perspective of Winston Smith's partner in sexcrime. The descriptions of torture are just as harrowing as in the original, and the ending is interesting but with a similarly depressing attitude. Today I was listening to an analysis that divided politics into Trump, Putin, and Xi and I thought "Oceania, Eurasia, Eastasia." Lies have become truth.

The Maltese Falcon
by Dashiel Hammett

narrated by B. J. Harrison

"Sam Spade is hired by the fragrant Miss Wonderley to track down her sister, who has eloped with a louse called Floyd Thursby. But when Spade’s partner Miles Archer is shot while on Thursby’s trail, Spade finds himself both hunter and hunted: can he track down the jewel-encrusted bird, a treasure worth killing for, before the Fat Man finds him?"

I managed to keep track of the story by dint of not leaving huge gaps between chapters. Lots of story threads to keep track of, and it is worth the effort.

Sharpe's Eagle
by Bernard Cornwell

narrated by Rupert Farley

"Richard Sharpe finds himself clashing with incompetent officers and an inexperienced company, making himself dangerous enemies, even on his own side. Sharpe knows he must redeem the regiment by capturing the golden Imperial Eagle, a standard touched by Napoleon himself."

Not something I would have chosen but for its appearance on the Classics list, and for some reason that list only features the eighth book in the series. Evocative of the period, much description of battle and incompetence and heroism and foolhardiness and clashing male egos. The only woman with a name who features is a camp follower, but I wouldn't have expected much consideration of the female viewpoint in a book about 18th century soldiers in Spain. Unusually for one of these Classics, there was a semblance of a plot.

To Say Nothing of the Dog
by Connie Willis

"Verity Kindle, a time traveler from the 21st century, inadvertently brings back something from the past. Now Ned Henry must jump back to the Victorian era to help Verity put things right - not only to save the project but to prevent altering history itself."

This is one of the books that I keep and re-read regularly. The reason I picked it up this time is because I bought another copy to give as a present, and wanted to remind myself of the story. It's been a while since I last read it (blog says 2012) and it felt as fresh as ever - meaning that I had forgotten lots of the details. Reading this (and one other of hers) I can forgive the author for the terrible books that she's written since.

A very ordinary week

Dovecote, Kyre Hall Park, October 2024

There's been nothing special to report for the whole week, in which I did all the things that I regularly do, and a few optional extras, and it was all fine.

• the weekly shop
• the U3A board games group
• a candlelit vigil in town to commemorate three years of the war in Ukraine
• Monday evening badminton
• a GRUHI trip to the tip and to Action 21 with all the electrical junk
• watched a film at home
• Tuesday evening Buddhists
• visit to mum
• a session with Muscles (my personal trainer)
• a bonus massage (because I'm worth it)
• Thursday evening badminton
• the U3A ramble
• a Buddhist team meeting via Zoom
• the Repair Café LETS trading table to try and get rid of more stuff (nobody wanted anything)
• my music group (I have been given a big solo this term)
• watched another film at home
• did nearly all the necessary routine admin
• a film at the cinema to end the week.

I do try to find interesting content for this blog, but there really isn't any this week. I'm looking forward to warmer weather - I find February the cruellest month. Daffodils are appearing in the garden and the paving is invisible under its blanket of weeds. So, much the same as every year.

Not Very Well

Les Menuires cafe, February 2025

The week since returning from the ski trip has been notable mostly for a nasty cold and cough. I don't get ill very often, and this was quite a significant event which prevented me from attending the 11th Gulloebl Film Festival, even though I travelled down to London in the hope of being well enough. It seemed to manage without me, somehow. And I was looked after very nicely while in confinement, being allowed to lick the beaters that made icing, and given a plate of canapes while everyone else attended the gala opening. 

I went home next day and spent a lot of the weekend asleep. I didn't do much on Monday either, not even badminton. Feeling better on Tuesday, however, a significant event took place - my first GRUHI trip with a boot-load of stuff to the newly discovered (by me) Re-Useful Centre in Leamington, a warehouse sized recycling centre as big as about 10 charity shops run by an organisation called Action 21. I had been prevaricating about this, thinking that some of my stuff might be valuable and worth trying to sell, and that I might find people who wanted this stuff via Freegle or Facebook Marketplace or Ebay or Olio. But in the end, supporting Action 21 seemed like a good cause and far less work than any of the alternatives.

Since then I've spent another day or so trawling through the boxes of old electrical and electronic bits and pieces that have accumulated over the past twenty years or so. TV and printer cables, power supplies, in-ear and over-ear headphones, LAN and wi-fi extenders and so many network cables, audio cables, charging cables, telephone cables, old mobile phones and tablets. Action 21 will take most of this but I took an old router and the mobile phones to the Vodafone shop in town, and the broken electronic bits will have to go to the tip. A Fitbit and my original Sony Walkman may be the only items that are worth anything, especially if I put batteries and a cassette in the Walkman and discover that it still works.

Ski France

From the balcony, Mottaret, February 2025

The annual ski trip this year involved nine people (two resident in France and the rest of us from various parts of the UK), of whom two are definitely non-skiers, one went out to ski just a couple of times on her own, one beginner who had booked lessons, one expert and the remaining four (including me) at about the same standard. All except the French residents travelled by train via a route we hadn't tried before but was far better than having to cross Paris on the Metro - St Pancras to Lille and then just across the platform from Lille to the 3 Valleys ski area, and a taxi at the end.

The journey was not without its problems, however. A large landslip had closed the main access road, and traffic was having to be re-routed so that both arriving and departing traffic went through a tunnel designed for traffic in one direction. Our French duo, who were aiming to get to the resort early and make us all supper, ended up having to sit stationary in their car for a number of hours, but decided against seeking refuge in the emergency accommodation that was being provided. Meanwhile, we were waiting for our taxi, which had also got caught up in the mayhem and arrived an hour late. Despite this we arrived before the car party and provided supper for them instead.

The conditions for skiing were perfect - plenty of snow, temperatures around -1 degrees, and glorious sunshine for the whole week except for one morning when there was light cloud. I started badly, perhaps due to overconfidence, and kept falling over on the the first couple of days. Then I was involved in a nasty accident, where an out-of-control skier bumped into me and knocked me over. I was absolutely fine but she had knocked herself out, and for a minute it wasn't clear how badly she was hurt. 

One of our party had seen the whole thing and reassured me that it absolutely wasn't my fault. The perpetrator/victim seemed to be skiing on her own because nobody else turned up to help her. Then a couple of random skiers who happened to be doctors stopped to help, she recovered consciousness but was clearly in need of medical attention, and there were enough people around by then to make us superfluous, so we left them to it. After that I skied much more cautiously and gradually built my confidence back up, so I didn't fall over again, and I didn't push myself to stay on the piste after about 3pm (which I might have done in previous years).

Apart from skiing there's entertainment (some of us watched LA Confidential on DVD - a bit more violent than I remember but a good film despite this), and food and drink. Hot chocolate with whipped cream is my drink of choice and there was a wide variety available, rating from about five out of ten to a magnificent ten out of ten in one particular café. We went out for a couple of dinners, cooked for ourselves a few times, ordered takeaway pizza, and for one evening I deliberately planned a vegan dinner because of my experience that cheese is the only protein available to a vegetarian, especially in the Savoie region which prides itself on fondue, raclette and many local cheeses like Beaufort and Tomme de Savoie. 

On the way back we stayed at a French hotel for one night, which allowed the trip to include seven full days of skiing. Expecting some sort of grubby Travelodge, we were actually accommodated in a lovely place where I managed to avoid cheese for one evening by selecting soup and chocolate mousse. 

What I've been reading

The Penguin History of the USA
by Hugh Brogan

"In a broad sweep of America's triumphant progress from early British colonisation to the Reagan years, Brogan explores the period from both the American and the British points of view, touching on permanent features of 'the American character' - both the good and the bad."

I wrote about this in a recent blog post - very comprehensive, but a textbook. What this means is that to get the most out of it I'd have to make notes. For example, there isn't a timeline with significant events, or even a list of presidents. The chapters aren't all sequential - he sometimes devotes a chapter to a topic (like slavery or industrialisation) within a time period that overlaps with other chapters describing other topics. But maybe it will be a useful reference text - I doubt I will read the whole thing again, but I'll hang on to it for now.

May Contain Lies: How Stories, Statistics and Studies Exploit Our Biases - And What We Can Do About It
by Alex Edmans

"Stories, statistics and studies lie to us on a daily basis, and our brains lie to us too. We need to acknowledge and understand the role that our own human biases play in interpreting and digesting the information that we consume."

A Christmas present, and a good and readable reminder that statements are not facts, facts are not data, data is not evidence and evidence is not proof. He tries to make it accessible by including anecdotes and stories and putting summaries at the end of each chapter, but despite this it's a little dry.

The Famished Road

by Ben Okri

narrated by Hugh Quarshie

"He is born into a world of poverty, ignorance and injustice, but Azaro awakens with a smile on his face. Despite belonging to a spirit world made of enchantment, where there is no suffering, Azaro chooses to stay in the land of the to feel it, endure it, know it and love it.  This is his story."

Evokes the atmosphere of the African setting with its magical thinking, herbalists, corrupt political parties of the rich and the poor with their thugs, and a family just trying to get by. The mother is a market trader and the father gets whatever jobs he can while training to be a world champion boxer, their young son 'works' by attracting custom to a local bar. That's pretty much all the 'story' there is; the main pleasure of reading is simply immersion in this world.

Nineteen Eighty-Four
by George Orwell

"In 1984 the world is divided into three parts, Oceania, Eastasia and Eurasia, all perpetually at war. In Oceania, the Party has created a totalitarian state that annihilates all opposition. In the forefront of the Party stands Big Brother, a figure of almost mythical power."

I got this off my shelves to re-read, more than 35 years since the date I'd written inside the front cover, because a friend recommended another 'spin-off' book written from the point of view of the main (and only) female protagonist. I thought I'd better remind myself of the story, and was slightly unprepared for the dense prose and immense cruelty within it. I remember reading and being impressed by George Orwell when I was young, so maybe I will revisit his other books.

Buddhism update

October 2024

Our little local Buddhist group is an offshoot of the nearest Buddhist Centre in Birmingham, but we are supported by a collection of individuals known as 'Groups & Pioneers' run by the Triratna Development Team. Groups & Pioneers comprises people in a similar position to us, i.e. supporting a small local group, or trying to start one. The Development Team arranges an annual retreat, which I have just attended, and as usual it was thought-provoking and inspiring. I came home with fewer ideas than normal because a) we are now doing pretty much all we can, and b) I have adjusted my ambition for the Warwick group down from 'Grow to a Centre' to 'Continue to Thrive'.

On the way there I collected a friend who was flying in from Dublin, and then discovered that his flight home wasn't until the day after the end of the retreat. He was happy to accept the invitation to stay with me for the extra day, and rewarded me with a meal out and home-made pizza for me and UJ (and enough for about four other people).

He and his wife rent out a room in their house, and less than a year ago the Red Cross in Ireland placed a Ukrainian refugee and her traumatised 5-year-old son with them. It has not been a success, and while he was away the relationship deteriorated to the extent that he has had to ask the Red Cross to remove and rehouse them. So I was pleased that he had the chance to chat to UJ and find some reassurance that they were just unlucky with their guest. And I have been very lucky.

While I was at the retreat centre I also found out that the main cook, who has been there nearly a year, is off sick and unlikely to be back for a while. This puts quite a strain on the team even though they now have a deputy chef, and I love working there in the kitchen, so I suggested I might find some time to volunteer. But looking at the state of my diary, and trying to avoid my habitual tendency to over-commit, I have pulled back from offering any dates until April. I am proud of myself for doing less!

In a very unusual week I had five different meetings with different Buddhists over the last weekend as well as four more during the week in person and via Zoom. In between these I continue to have a great time doing all sorts of varied and constructive activities as well as keeping on top of the (much less enjoyable) admin. So I have no complaints, and life is feeling particularly pleasant at the moment, as long as I spend no more than ten minutes listening to the news.

What I have not finished reading

Rivendell, East Sussex, July 2024

For the first time in the whole lifetime of this blog (more than 17 years) I haven't finished a book in the last month. The main reason is because the books I'm reading are long and dense - the Penguin History of the USA is really a textbook so I can't manage much more than half a chapter in one sitting. Spotify stopped me continuing with the immense Stephen King book because of its limitation on monthly audio book listening hours, and the Booker prize-winning Ben Okri audio book is 'literary', as most prize-winning books seem to be. 'Literary' here is a euphemism meaning 'very atmospheric but not much plot'.

I have never been a student of history - I gave up the subject as soon as I was allowed to at school - but have long wanted to learn about North American history, hence buying this textbook written by history professor Hugh Brogan. I have read about early settlement and immigration, farming, slavery, industry, the American Revolution, the Civil War and the founding of the Republic and its Constitution. I'm still a bit vague on the first half of the 20th Century (the Depression, Prohibition, First World War), but I've now reached the years after the Second World War and Senator Joseph R. McCarthy appears, launching his communist witch-hunt. This textbook was first published in 1985 with a second edition in 1999, but these extracts from paragraphs introducing McCarthy are chillingly familiar. 

"His genius lay in a certain hot, instinctive cunning which told him how to win power, headlines and a passionately loyal following by manipulating the worst impulses and most entire weaknesses of his fellow-countrymen. He was a liar on a truly amazing scale, telling so many lies, so often, and in such a tangled fashion ... new falsehoods sprouted faster than old ones could be rebutted ... [he] was able to see that the penalties for defying these shibboleths were small, the possible rewards enormous.

"He lied his way into his first public office ... he lied his way into the Senate ... he passed himself off as a wounded war hero (having injured his leg when falling downstairs, drunk, on a troopship) ... Once in the Senate he pursued his favourite interests, chiefly boozing and gambling, and financed them by taking bribes from corporations."

Here's one whole paragraph transcribed almost verbatim:

"McCarthy knew nothing about communism or the State Department, but he did know that mud sticks, especially if you throw a lot of it. It is doubtful that he ever thought he was doing much harm. He spent his days largely in the company of petty crooks and swindlers, and having no scruples, no respect for law and no concern for reputation (otherwise he would hardly have swaggered so conspicuously as a foul-mouthed, drunken, mendacious brute) probably could not believe that others might have different attitudes, or genuinely suffer if they were traduced. As for the point that his conduct undermined democratic processes at home and fanned hostility to the United States abroad (... Richard Rovere says, 'he was the first American ever to be actively hated and feared by foreigners in large numbers'), he ignored it completely. For him it was enough that he had secured his re-election, that money flowed in from anti-communist enthusiasts that he could spend as he pleased, and that he could keep the entire political establishment of the United States in perpetual uproar. He had fun."

The day after I read this, I heard in a podcast that Roy Kohn, whom I already knew of as the unscrupulous lawyer who was Donald Trump's mentor, was Senator Joseph McCarthy's chief counsel in 1954. Makes sense.

New Year in Amsterdam

Amsterdam, January 2025 (photo credit: Mr M)

Happy New Year! The world is looking increasingly unstable and I can hardly bear to think about prospects in various war-torn areas let alone the despotic, dictatorial, right-wing and populist governments that seem to be in the ascendant at the moment. Was it ever thus? Is it that the global nature of the news round means that we are just more aware of what is happening, rather than relaxing in blissful ignorance? Did the 60-year-olds in the midst of the Industrial Revolution look upon technology with the same horror as I regard the insidious poison of social media, especially on the young? I'm not sure how I would have survived if Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok and the rest had existed when I was growing up. We will surely look back and acknowledge that giving children access to the whole of the Internet cannot be a good idea, in the same way that we ensure they don't have a credit card until they are mature enough to use it properly.

Anyway, enough of the doom and gloom, I am sitting comfortably in Lola Towers after the excitement of the holidays in Nottingham and Amsterdam. I joined Lola II and Mr M on a Dutch adventure for New Year. We travelled comfortably by train, and took a tram from the central station to our Airbnb. This was two rooms at the top of a traditional tall thin Dutch house, occupied by our host who has completely filled it - shelves, walls, glass cabinets, floor space and furnishings - with comic books and Disney artefacts. 

Our host's main stipulations were a) that under no circumstances should we step into the apartment with outdoor shoes (due to dogshit on the carpet brought in by previous guests) and b) that we would not bring anyone else in with us (again, bad experiences with previous guests). When the host opened the door to welcome us and Lola II stepped inside wearing her shoes he actually yelled at her, which was quite an off-putting start to our relationship. Later in the visit he presented each of us with a picture created by his brother who is an artist. Mine was a laminated A4 picture of a toucan, which I deliberately left behind among the clutter in my bedroom.

Because of the time of year, quite a lot of shops and restaurants were closed but we still managed to find interesting places to eat. We had Thai, Indian and Japanese food for dinner as well as Dutch specialities at breakfast and teatime like pancakes, bitterballen (croquettes), cheesy pastries, olieballen (spherical doughnuts with raisins), apple pie and apple turnovers. There is a great reliance on cheese and ham and very few other savoury snack choices. On the final evening we ate in what might be described as a gastropub where there was no written menu and the waiter recited the options. This was the only place that disappointed on the vegetarian front - they had a couple of choices and they were fine, but not up to the standard of the meat and fish that Lola II and Mr M had.

The weather was cold and sometimes wet, but Lola II and I missed the worst of the rain by being inside the Rijksmuseum while Mr M went for a ferry trip and walk and got soaked. I really enjoyed seeing the originals of paintings that are quite familiar as well as unfamiliar art, and the audio guide gave just about the right amount of supplementary information. Lola II is quite familiar with art in the National Gallery while I'm more comfortable in museums of science, history and nature, but even I found the 17th century paintings fascinating.

All three of us enjoy our guided walks, and we went on two of them - the first a general historical introduction to the city and the second focussing on food. The first guide was hugely enthusiastic and had done his research into the drugs and sex work aspects of the city, which I imagine people ask about a lot. We also learned that this year is the 750th anniversary of the founding of the city, created by the dam on the river Amstel. On the food tour we were given sweet and savoury snacks as well as being taken to visit the Begijnhof - housing for single Catholic women when that was a proscribed religion - which was completely unrelated to food, but interesting nonetheless.

We did a lot of walking on New Year's Eve and the weather was pretty cold, so by about 10pm I'd had enough and went to bed. Lola II and Mr M are made of sterner stuff, but even Lola II was in bed before midnight. Our Airbnb had a roof terrace, and Mr M took up our host's invitation to watch the fireworks from up there as long as we made conversation with his friends who were visiting. Mr M enjoys fireworks, and there were certainly enough of them - apparently fireworks are illegal but a blind eye is turned on New Year's Eve, so the explosions started when it got dusk and it was like a war zone at midnight.

There were various other activities - we wandered about in a craft shop, made hot chocolate at home (twice), watched a film, Lola II visited a clandestine Catholic church and its museum and I met a Buddhist friend who showed me around the Amsterdam Buddhist Centre. 

Altogether it was a good holiday, although the centre of the city was very crowded and busy, and the weather could have been better. Getting around on foot and using public transport is so simple now that we have online maps, online translation, online routes and timetables, and Lola II and Mr M leading the way. Communication wasn't a problem because English is spoken more than Dutch - we frequently heard Dutch diners and waiters speak English to each other when ordering food and drink. And we realised how wonderful it is that there is no charge to visit our wonderful British museums and galleries compared to at least €15 each in Amsterdam.