The Radio Room

Adams restaurant, July 2022

After my first two shifts volunteering for the Warwick festival on the main gate, my next two shifts were in the Radio Room. I had no idea where this was or what it would entail, but it turned out that the 'room' was a large motor home inhabited by Radio Man plus a lockable shed and a lot of radio equipment and two more Radio Assistants.

I turned up at the start of my shift and was given an introduction by the previous volunteer, as Radio Man was nowhere to be seen and the two Radio Assistants were at a site meeting. The radios were being used on different bands by the main site, the security team, the gate team, and the 'Wombles' - the term used for the volunteers who clean the site and the toilets. My job involved keeping an eye on all the kit, receiving and handing out the radios, and being the link to the outside world via a separate mobile phone for proper emergencies like fire and child abduction. 

The key impressions I formed during the first hour of my first shift were as follows (in order):

• There doesn't seem to be anything to do
• That previous volunteer keeps talking at great length about himself - oh good, his shift has finished now
• Ah, Radio Assistant 1 has arrived and he is actually giving me some useful information and insight into the role
• Oh, now he's started talking at great length about himself
• He's still going
• I'm getting a really detailed account of his trip to Thailand where he was sent by the RAF to do a couple of hours work and got to stay for a whole weekend
• Hooray, Radio Man has emerged from the motor home, maybe I will be saved
• Oh dear, Radio Man is standing behind Radio Assistant 1 just rolling his eyes at me; that's no help at all
• My goodness, the RAF paid for him to become qualified to teach and now that's what he does. I feel a little bit sorry for his students
• Radio Assistant 2! Maybe... no.
• Some people have arrived who appear to need something and are being helped by Radio Assistant 2, which has distracted Radio Assistant 1 who has gone to join in, thank goodness, at last
• There really doesn't seem very much for one person to do, let alone four people
• Now Radio Assistant 1 has gone to get something to eat
• Radio Man, who seems to be the one in charge, reassures me that yes, there isn't much to do at the moment, but things will get busier once the Great British Public turn up and start causing trouble. He shows some interest in me. This is novel.

As soon as they could see I was a fairly sensible and responsible person, Radio Man and Radio Assistant 2 went off to have something to eat, leaving me on my own with all this gear after a few minutes of instruction and an hour of listening to people mostly talk at great length about themselves. They reassured me that they would have radios with them and would intercept any complicated questions that came in for the Comms team.

The job was quite strange. My role involved handing out radios and cleaning and recharging them when people bring them back, and showing how they are used if someone really hasn't used one before. There was a sheet about what to do if a child or vulnerable person is lost, which was fairly terrifying, and I was told there would be a rehearsal at some point, which thankfully took place while I wasn't working. While I was on my own there were a couple of calls, one asking me to look in the tent next door (where they didn't have radios) to try and find a missing bus driver, and another to point out a mistake on the child/vulnerable person sheet.

Eventually Radio Man and Radio Assistant 2 came back. Radio Assistant 2 was a jolly man who liked to talk, so he was often up and chatting with his mates. Radio Man was quieter and more interesting - he lives in South Africa much of the time, and the comms stuff is as much a hobby as a profession. He's been working with the Warwick team for about 30 years, but he doesn't much like folk music. Towards the end of my first shift he started showing me how the radio comms works using diagrams of transmission and receiving frequencies.

I didn't have to work on Saturday, because I'd been invited by a friend to go to a VERY fancy meal in Birmingham (I have included pictures of three of the 'courses'), but I volunteered for an extra shift on Artists Reception on Sunday morning. If there wasn't much to do in the Radio Room there was even less to do in Artists Reception by that time on Sunday, as very nearly all the artists were already there. But I could have a chat with interesting people as they wandered through asking to borrow a biro or some tape, and two performers did turn up within my 3.5 hour shift.

After lunch I was back in the Radio Room, and there was much less talking about themselves and much more talking about how the lost child incident the previous day had not gone all that well, and because the event was drawing to a close lots of people stopped for a chat as they brought their radios back.

I haven't said much about the music. If you imagine a continuum, from the real folky end with a cappella tunes from Ireland or Scottish jigs: all mouth organs, fiddles and accordions, to the folk/rock end with amps, guitars and drum kits like my favourite Oysterband or even Billy Bragg, then Warwick Folk Festival is nearly all at the hardcore folky end of things. While I like folk, I prefer it to be towards the folk/rock end of the continuum, and I did catch a couple of acts that I liked, but most of the fun for me came from being part of the team and meeting and working with interesting people in a field. And thankfully it didn't rain and the temperature dropped, otherwise we would all have been cooked inside the marquees.

Radio Room, Warwick Folk Festival, July 2022

What I've been reading

A High Wind in Jamaica
by Richard Hughes

narrated by Michael Maloney

"The gripping story of the Bas-Thornton children, whose parents send them back to England following a hurricane in the postcolonial Caribbean they call home. Having set sail, the children quickly fall into the hands of pirates."

I had no idea what to expect of this book from my list of Classics. It was mostly good, but it occasionally tested my credulity - one of the children disappears (we know he is dead but they do not) and the author suggests that the other children never speak of him again, nor even ask what happened to him. But most of the time they are victims of the adults around them, trying to make sense of what is going on from the very limited experience of their short lives. Some have compared it to Lord of the Flies, but it has much less depth than that great work.

Wild Awake: Alone, Offline and Aware in Nature
by Vajragupta

"What is it like to be completely alone, attempting to face your experience with only nature for company? Here the author recounts how 'solitary retreats' have changed him, how he fell in love with the places he stayed in and the creatures there."

I first read this exactly four years ago and loved it then. It has lost none of its beauty with this reading, and the author was the leader of the last retreat I attended. Many of the Buddhist books I've read are written by someone with something to say but not necessarily the writing skills to say it well, but Vajragupta is a wonderful author as well as having interesting things to say.

The Swimming-Pool Library
by Alan Hollinghurst

A darkly erotic work that centres on the friendship of William Beckwith, a young gay aristocrat who leads a life of privilege and promiscuity, and the elderly Lord Nantwich, who is searching for someone to write his biography"

I can honestly say that I've never read a book like this before. It came from the Classics list, and is written from the gay male point of view like nothing I've come across - there are no female voices whatever, and no female characters, although a sister is briefly mentioned at one point. What a strange life, of promiscuity and pick-ups and strange sex in odd places, and while the majority is from the point of view of the main character who is in his 20's, we find out through his narration about how brutally homosexuality was dealt with in past times. And, a little, about similar issues in modern times. I never felt like stopping reading, though, and I imagine that he has achieved a great deal in writing this.

Cranford
by Elizabeth Gaskell

"An ironic portrayal of female life in a secluded English village predominantly inhabited by women. The return of a long-lost brother is the most dramatic event to occur over the course of the sixteen tales that comprise the novel."

My books list says I read this five years ago in audiobook format, but I didn't remember much of it. It's quite a lightweight tale, mostly about the women of the village, and presents a stark contrast when read directly after The Swimming-Pool Library. On the whole, perhaps unsurprisingly, I prefer this book.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
by Mark Haddon

"Christopher John Francis Boone knows all the countries of the world and their capitals and every prime number up to 7,057. This is the improbable story of Christopher’s quest to investigate the suspicious death of a neighbourhood dog."

I think I first heard this dramatized on the radio and enjoyed it, but then I was given the book and it filled a few hours on retreat, after which I passed it on to another retreatant. It's good, definitely unusual, sad and frustrating.

A Guide to the Buddhist Path
by Sangharakshita

"For those wishing to deepen their knowledge and experience of Buddhism, this is a complete map of the Buddhist path."

This was recommended for me to read about six years ago when I started getting interested in Buddhism. I had a go back then but really didn't understand much of it so I stopped. I didn't have enough of the basic reference points and it was just too advanced for me at that stage, but I picked it up again to take with me on retreat and found that it made a lot more sense at my current level. If I leave it for another six years I'm pretty sure I'll get even more out of it.

Send Nudes
by Saba Sams

"Threading between clubs at closing time, pub toilets, drenched music festivals and beach holidays, these unforgettable short stories deftly chart the treacherous terrain of growing up - of intense friendships, of ambivalent mothers, of uneasily blended families, and of learning to truly live in your own body."

Written by a young woman, the short stories introduce me to a world almost as unfamiliar as the one in the Swimming Pool Library, but this time inhabited by today's young people. I think I recognise some of the generic aspects of the lives described as similar to mine at that age, but they have social media and technology, which makes their actions seem so much more deliberate and damaging. Sometimes sweet but mostly disturbing, I did enjoy the book.

The Games approach

Victoria Park, view from the Avenue Road entrance, July 2022

We are well into the period within which I have committed to doing much more than I should. I have most of the day 'free' today before I go to my next shift of volunteering (of which more later) so today will be full of all the things that have been postponed, including blogging. And pictures of the local preparations for the Commonwealth Games (CG) bowling.

View from Archery road (which will be obscured when they finish the stands)

While I was away camping and retreating there was a mini-drama about my very exciting CG uniform. I had been notified that it might be delivered while I was away, and that the delivery company would only hand it over in person, so I used the contact form to indicate when I wouldn't be there and asked that it might not be delivered during that time. The first response was that I would receive a notification and then have the opportunity to change the date, but I pointed out that while offline I wouldn't receive the notification. The next response was that my requirements had been passed onto the relevant team.

Then I received two emails on the same day from the delivery company, during the period I'd said I was unavailable for delivery, the first at 11.59 to say that the uniform would be delivered and the second at 13.30 to say that it had been delivered. I messaged the CG contact, and received the reply that they are very busy at the moment but will get onto it as soon as possible. When I got home there was a note from a lovely neighbour who had seen the box on my doorstep, i.e. on the pavement outside my house, and when it was (miraculously) still there next morning they took it inside. Eventually the CG team got back to me to say that the delivery company were still claiming that it was handed over in person. So all's well that ends well, but I wouldn't recommend that anyone uses Yodel.

View of Archery Road from the river walk

The Garage Door Man came round, straightened the bits of the lock that were bent during the attempted break-in (which means the door now locks properly again), and we had a very confusing conversation indeed about all the different options for updating the ancient mechanism. Eventually, when I realised I hadn't understood any of the options, I asked him what he would do. He found it equally hard to decide, and went away to find out whether my garage door was a standard size or not, which would influence other decisions. I await developments with low expectations.

Ongoing stand construction

Lola II and I had another great day out in Oxford, which is a convenient distance for both of us to meet, but which is terribly deficient in cake supply. After checking out the Weston Library exhibitions - this time they were about the discovery of Tutankhamun's tomb and the different sensory experiences of books - we went to the University Botanic Garden. This ought to be the perfect setting for Lemon Drizzle by the river but instead it has a tiny coffee stand with no more than a flapjack or two. Not that I'm eating cake at the moment - the very exciting Commonwealth Games trousers are a little tight around the middle...

The next day contained the second lot of periodontal surgery in the morning, and a badminton club dinner in the evening, which I attended to say hello but left when the food arrived. The surgery this time was more extensive and involved the lower jaw, which the periodontist warned me would be worse than the previous one, and  indeed it is. A week later and I'm still feeling rather delicate and sore, and very much hoping that it will be worth it. I'll find out in three months' time.

No left turn

There have been other trips and calls and activities, but the two other matters worth reporting are the local preparations for the Commonwealth Games and my volunteering at the Warwick Folk Festival.

The CG construction teams moved into the park and the local streets just over a week ago. They put up the perimeter barriers, which contain about half of the area of the park and extend into the streets, removing about half the parking spots for the residents of our three streets. Detailed plans have been drawn up to give us all alternative places to park nearby as well as the option to book slots for deliveries and carers, and although I have the convenience of the garage I think it is no more than mildly inconvenient for most people, and will only last for one month. One neighbour is not so phlegmatic and is incensed by the whole thing; I have frequently seen his car parked in areas that have been allocated for other purposes.

Pedestrian access only to houses at the park end of Archery Road

Anyway, it all kicks off in a week's time, and I'm sure it will be very interesting to see how the spectators are managed when arriving and departing and how much more inconvenient it may become. In the meantime I have started my volunteering role at the Warwick Folk Festival, which is taking place in the grounds of Warwick Castle, in a field next to the Castle's overflow parking. My job for the first two days during set-up has been to manage the main gate which has a narrow approach allowing traffic in only one direction at a time. I have been stationed at the far end of this approach with a walky-talky which I use when vehicles arrive to check that nothing is coming the other way.

My first shift was for four hours during the hottest part of the heatwave we have just endured. Luckily someone had a chair for me to use, but I had assumed I would be working with other people so I hadn't brought a book. There was hardly any traffic at all, so I mostly sat very still in the shade with my eyes closed, and it wasn't too bad, and certainly easy compared with those who were building stages and constructing lighting rigs. The second shift was in the same spot, and I had brought my own chair and a book, but there was much more traffic so very little time to sit and read - the overflow parking was in use so I was dealing with visitors to the Castle as well as traffic for the festival. My remaining two shifts will be in the Radio Room when the festival has actually started, which sounds quite exciting. I'm very glad I won't be managing that gate when the festival is live.

Solar panels in Victoria Park

Retreating

Rivendell, July 2022

First the usual explanation of the delay between blog posts - I managed to leave the power cable for my PC at mum and dad's so I couldn't type until I'd got that back, and as usual there have been a million things to do since getting back home.

The retreat was at a centre I hadn't visited before, with enough space in the glorious gardens for my luxurious tent and a more modest tent belonging to another retreatant. The weather was perfect and by chance (or maybe the other camper knew what he was doing) we both had found the best orientation for our tents - facing the early sun for warmth in the morning but shaded in the hottest part of the day.

The grounds of this retreat centre were amazing. The house was at the highest point with a beautiful garden at that level, then wide terraces descended to a pond used for waste water treatment and beyond this there were woods. The trees were mature and enormous: mighty oaks, a stupendous lime, willow and more towered in the distance.

The theme of the retreat was Buddhist practice outdoors, led by Vajragupta who wrote the book about this, and it was for 'beginners'  which meant that non-Buddhists could also attend. These two points meant that the flavour of the week was very different from my 'Seven Days of Silence' in Wales. We had periods of quiet and spent quite a bit of time outside on our own, but it was very sociable at other times. On the last full day we were given our own packed lunch and sent off until tea time.

I love Vajragupta's book on how he spends solitary time living in basic conditions, and would love to do the same. This week felt like practising for that situation. While some spent their day on a long walk (as I did on that previous retreat in Wales) I decided I would sit in just one place for a day and see how that felt.

I chose a meadow with a few isolated mature trees that I visited individually. I sat under a sycamore, and there were also two copper beeches, two trees I didn't recognise and a magnificent and beautiful oak. There were also deer grazing and resting and keeping well away from me at the bottom of the meadow, and I saw birds, butterflies, insects, spiders and rabbits. I sat there all day apart from a short walk to visit the trees, and didn't get bored for a minute.

That was probably the best part of the week if you don't count the time that three of us rolled down a short but very steep slope in the terraced gardens. That was a lot of fun. The worst part of the week was less than a mile from the centre - as I started my journey home I ran over a squirrel. Proper squashed. There goes all the karma gained from my good deeds for the week.

Threads of my life

April 2022

So many low importance things keeping me super busy, which is how I like it, I suppose. We've got Buddhist activity, travel, Ukrainian cat news, Pub Next Door update, and plenty of family and travel news.

Let's start with the Buddhists. Long-term readers may remember my Mitra ceremony almost a year ago, when I became a Buddhist in the presence of only 14 people (plus more on Zoom) in a large unfamiliar hall mostly wearing masks. It was not the sort of event I had hoped for, but we really didn't know how long this pandemic would last and I'd already waited a year. But now we had four more people in our group who wanted to become Buddhists, and this time we had a wonderful gathering in our familiar hall with about 50 of their friends and family and the ceremony and chanting and photographs we weren't allowed to have a year ago. It really feels like our little group is becoming properly established at last.

The Ukranian cat news isn't so good. In order to bring the cat to the UK, an application has to be made for a licence and another application for home isolation to try and avoid official quarantine, and I'd left this to UJ who seemed to have the thing in hand. But a month passed and nothing had happened and I decided to step in and give a bit of assistance, phoning the agency responsible to find out what was going on. It turned out that the application had not been recorded and nothing at all was happening, despite the chain of emails that UJ forwarded to me. 

I spoke to them several more times to clarify various requirements - having a microchip and rabies certificate is accepted, but the animal has to have left Ukraine for 30 days before it can be allowed into home isolation, and while this would have been fine while UJ was living in Poland, she had to go back to Ukraine to help her parents, at which point the clock restarted. If she arrives in the UK before the 30 days have elapsed then the cat has to be quarantined for the remaining time, and if she stays in Europe outside Ukraine for 30 days then her visa to enter the UK expires. And now I am away from home for a fortnight, the second week of which I'm on a retreat and therefore not contactable.

I left this with UJ and heard nothing for a couple of days while she returned to Poland to retrieve all her possessions from there and bring them back to Kyiv, and then continued to hear nothing. I filled in all the information about me in the two forms that would be required, scanned them and sent them to her, she has been in touch with the quarantine people to confirm all these facts, and that's where we stand now.

Let's leave that situation there, and talk about the pub next door, where the garden is looking absolutely stunning. They've replaced the railings with solid doors so a photo isn't easy, but there are gazebos, mirrors, fresh paint, planters, proper lighting, and no doubt price rises before the Commonwealth Games starts at the end of July. I hardly go in there at all nowadays, but a few days ago one of the gates was open and I went in to have a chat with a neighbour, who also updated me on the parking situation for the Games, which will depend on a good deal of fair play and goodwill from the residents. I am hopeful that this will work out well.

I have been down to mum and dad twice this week, the first time to take them to a straightforward hospital appointment, and the second time to stay for a day and a night while Lola II took mum to a tea party, staying in a hotel and then visiting Eltham Palace. What a treat. They had a lovely time, as did I, and on the first day dad and I listened to some of Bach's concertos including dad's favourite, the double violin concerto - he often relates the story of how when he was young he and a friend played it in a concert, swapping places when his part became too difficult. Then on the second day we listened to Handel's Messiah and discovered that the CD was damaged and the last few tracks on the CD wouldn't play properly. Still, the music has recurred many times in my head and probably won't go away for some time. That Handel knew how to write a catchy tune.

I went to see a friend with a dog the next day, and then the following day Sister D introduced Lola II and me to the Royal Courts of Justice and the Inns of Court where she used to work in the late 80's and early 90's. We saw bits of two cases being conducted, one an appeal to quash a conviction for working in a cannabis factory claiming the individual was compelled due to trafficking, and the other a landlord and tenant case. They were both very interesting, and we talked about the various aspects of the process - the fact that this is open justice held where anyone can watch the cases but few can afford to access it; the difficulty of using language precise enough to prevent misunderstanding. Afterwards we had lunch, walked around the Inns of Court and its lovely gardens and visited into the Temple Church. It was a lovely day.

I came back to Sister D's house, picked up the car and drove to the campsite where I am now typing this in the office building, about to sign off for a week's retreat.

May 2022