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.