WAGS 29.04.2021: The High Road to Zambujo, or Now We Are Six.

 

This past week, I´ve been pondering on pork pies – not the comestibles, but on the less-than-accurate statements made by (or at least attributed to) some of our finest politicians, two of whom have recently been under the spotlight.

In UK, it is a parliamentary convention that one cannot accuse a fellow MP of being an outright liar. Nor presumably can one say that they have been telling “porkies” (For those unaware, in Cockney Rhyming Slang “porkies” = “pork pies” = “lies”.)

One can say that they have been economical with the truth. Or, as that unofficial Bible to the British Civil Service (The Complete Yes Prime Minister – BBC Books 1987) puts it when discussing post facto what the said Prime Minister had described as “a simple, clear, straightforward, honest answer” which he had given to a Parliamentary question, and I quote:-

“Unfortunately, although the answer was indeed simple, clear and straightforward, there was some difficulty in justifiably assigning it the fourth of the epithets he had applied to the statement [i.e. honest -Ed.] inasmuch as the precise correlation between the information he had communicated and the facts insofar as they can be determined and demonstrated is such as to cause epistemological problems of sufficient magnitude to lay upon the logical and semantic resources of the English language a heavier burden than they can reasonably be requested to bear.”

In other words, the PM (this is of course a totally fictitious PM) had told a porkie.

The PM denies it, but then finds out that he didn´t know what had actually been going on which led him to say something other than the truth, and asks why he hadn´t been told what was actually going on. It is then suggested to him that his Home Secretary might not have felt the need to inform him and perhaps had been advised that the PM did not need to know what was actually going on. When the PM protests that he did need to know, his Principal Private Secretary explains further that the fact that the PM needed to know was not known at the time that the now known need to know was known, and therefore those who needed to advise and inform the Home Secretary perhaps felt that the information that he needed as to whether or not to inform the highest authority of the known information was not yet known and therefore there was no authority for the authority to be informed because the need to know was not at this time known. Or needed.

Perhaps the Americans can say it more concisely. After all it was one of their Secretaries for Defence, Donald Rumsfeld, who once answered a press briefing question about defence as follows:-

“Reports that say that something hasn't happened are always interesting to me, because as we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns—the ones we don't know we don't know. And if one looks throughout the history of our country and other free countries, it is the latter category that tends to be the difficult ones.”

Anyway, that´s enough of the preliminary waffle that these WAGS blogs seem to need (if indeed need is the correct word for it).

What about this week´s walk, you ask. This was the second one of the WAGS revived 2021 season. The previous week´s one had been a short refresher, just to get the legs working. So this week I offered to lead a group up to a trig point on a hill called Zambujo, a slightly longer trip. Myriam eagerly joined the Silves bubble and when Rod finally signed up, we had six walkers which I believed to be quite legal. In fact, it was remarkably brave of Rod to join in at all because  the hill he thought was called Zambujo was another hill entirely, a good five or six kilometres further away from the hill I thought was called Zambujo - are you still with me ? - which would have made it an extremely long expedition indeed if we had gone there which we didn´t. And he was remarkably restrained when we did get going and I began to lead him off in a totally different direction from that direction we should have been taking to the hill that he thought was Zambujo whereas we were in fact going towards the hill I thought was Zambujo, which was indeed what it turned out to be.

The six starters at Retiro dos Pescadores were Myriam, Maria, Hazel, Rod, Yves and myself, plus Ember.

When I had discussed the walk with Terry A the day before he had said we would get wet. I pooh-poohed the thought because my Silves weather forecast was for sunshine, but Terry was right. Of course he was. Only 15 minutes on our way up into the Serra the rain clouds closed in on us and the downpour commenced. Not all had wet weather gear with them so there was a certain amount of improvisation. Myriam´s theatrical experience of having been the back end of a pantomime horse in her youth proved invaluable as she tucked herself inside the back of Yves´ poncho.

Whether the interior of Yves´ poncho was atmospherically salubrious or not, Myriam did not say but, after one steady hill climb up to a high ridge, it seems she had had enough poncho and borrowed Rod´s red cape instead. He was gentleman enough to let her have it thus qualifying for the year´s Sir Walter Raleigh Award.

It was up on that ridge, where considerable areas of land have recently been stripped of their eucalyptus crop, we came across a small convoy of itinerant tree planters who were sheltering from the storm inside their vehicles, one of which was decorated with a piece of sheep´s skull.

It was heartening to discover that what they were planting were pinheiros, not more eucalyptus – some hope for the future.

Then it was on up to Zambujo, also recently cleared of its eucalyptus cover, so our target the trig point was clearly visible. It was quite a climb.

The trig itself was in rather bad repair with fewer than usual metal rungs to climb up, but even so Maria managed to do her traditional wave of triumph from the top.

We turned for home from there. 

Glad the objective has been accomplished

The rain had died away, the clouds began to lift, and we began to dry off. Yves even had time for some artistic nature photography.

Things were starting to look up when,  although I thought that I knew these paths pretty well by now, I started to get disorientated.

There had been so much clearing of trees and so many new paths revealed with the result that everything looked totally different. Luckily Rod kept his head and managed to guide me and the rest of us home.

We made our way to Casa do Pasto Norinha where Paul was already ensconced. He was sporting a fetching blue rinse, same shade as Myriam´s.

Social distancing required the men to separate from the girls although both lots remained within shouting distance.

A satisfactory lunch was available, with a reasonable choice at an equally reasonable all-in charge of €8.50.

Our Tosta Critic said it was well up to standard

Chocolate Mousse

Fresh fruit salad

and Rice Pudding. What more could one want?

The Track and the Statistics

Total distance: 10.77 kms. Average speed: 2.70kph. Time taken: 3 hrs 52 mins. Total ascent: 304 metres.

   John sent this to me " to finish off humorously and publish!"    Well I can publish it anyway!

The Blog has everything we expect from a walking blog as well as a political discussion. It has a sunny start, a description, including stats, photos of men with sticks, women with ponchos and Maria up the pole plus a rainy finish and some photos of diners and good tucker!! John even discussed an old political gem of a TV program, which some of you may have watched.

   Which gives me the segue, which means a seamless transition from one topic to another, (much beloved of current affairs program presenters) and not a Segway, which allows transit, but not always seamlessly, although with identical pronunciation, it has a much more likely spelling.

     I know many of you profess to scorn TV, but at our age, in the long evenings when the twinkle has gone out of  SWMBO's eye, frankly what else is there to do?    'Read a Book' I hear in rebuttal but the eyes are no longer up to it in dim light, having been scorched by the numerous screens that seem to be a necessity of the modern digital life.

       To cut to the chase - who has been watching the latest Series (#6) of 'Line of Duty'?  If so - and only if you are interested and have watched the 'final' episode, mutter 'Mother of God'  and Read On.

    As you may have heard, I am a confirmed Detective Drama (and others) Watcher, having briefly dabbled in the business half a lifetime ago. I always try to work out the perpetrator(s) before the end revelation, although most crime fiction writers these days seem to favour the unlikely twist in favour of realism. The writer Jed Mercurio was never a police officer, although having joined the RAF Medical Branch in University, and blagged flying lessons in the UAS. he seems to have resigned his commission after the minimum time required by the RAF as payment for his University, he had an almost as brief career as a hospital physician before quitting and becoming a full time writer. His first scripts for the BBC were very well received and were for two hospital based series, Cardiac Arrest and Bodies and a 3rd series called 'Critical' for Sky. All were commended for their realistic depiction of medical scenes and hospital practices.

      He has since then ( in the early 2000's) strayed away from these themes and written other Award  nominated Dramas as The Grimleys and The Bodyguard plus many more nominations for Line Of Duty, though the first 5 Seasons never won a BAFTA. I have a feeling that Season 6 may make it. 

AC12 in Season 6., Line of Duty

  

       I became addicted in Season 1 of Line of Duty, because of the well drawn characters and the interesting (and violent) plots and not my idea of realism, although gushing reviewers who have probably never been closer to a real police drama than a disputed parking ticket, have enthused about the realism. It is all too sanitised and police officers do not communicate in acronyms, and briefings and interrogations were never like that.

   This is supposed to be the final series where the identity of H - the mastermind of the corrupt police activities, is finally uncovered.  The Vloggers and TV critics have been analysing every phrase in the dialogue or any slightly unusual change of expression to tease out the final identity of H or anomaly. In the last 3 series we have known that H has a detectable 'show' or repeated mistake in that he invariably spells 'definitely' as 'definately'. Ergo as soon as they find out the suspect who consistently can't spell that word, they will have their man. Given all of the complexities and twists in the current season, it is hardly likely to be that simple.  If you want to cover your tracks why not persuade one of your minions to confess and exhibit this flaw, and threaten him with a graphic demonstration of what will happen to him if he doesn't take on the role of sacrificial lamb.

      And so the 'revelation' was oddly unsatisfying, the final choice of AC12 for H having  acted as a thick, poor nonentity throughout the preceding episodes. An Oscar level performance if credible.

   My guess is that there are so many unanswered questions having arisen that Jed can say goodbye to his BAFTA if he leaves it here. Incidentally after the 'final' episode was screened last night, Jed Mercurio posted a cryptic Tweet>

     Sort that one out. Any ideas in a sealed  Whatsapp to me!

       

And as if that was not enough of a mystery, Myriam was so delighted to be out and unencumbered, that she even typed up a short piece for the Blog:-

This was to be my first walk of the year, after a long break.  Feeling a bit excited, I diligently packed the ruck sack on Tuesday evening.  The first-aid items were all there and in date. In goes the water bottle, a small towel, a whistle, a mask, hand sanitiser and liquorice.  Placed by the ruck sack were the walking cane, sun hat, boots and the proper apparel.  Then went to bed in high expectation of a leisurely walk in the valleys and hills of Silves.  Woke up early, well before the set alarm time of 7.00 am. I suddenly realised that there was no waterproof gear in the ruck sack!!  Made a mental note to put an umbrella and a wind proof as soon as I got out of bed.  Well, mental notes are practically useless for me nowadays!

Off I went! On the way, the sun was at a good angle causing no visual problem. I arrived at Os Pescadores ahead of everyone, very pleased that I did not get lost!

It was really nice to meet again with the WAGs in person.  After the usual banter, we started on the dot of 9.30.  The sun was shining and the temperature was very pleasant!  Wonderful!

Unexpectedly, soon into our walk, the sky changed and started to spit drops which very quickly turned to a downpour!  Only then I realised that my mental note made while still in bed was a total void!!  Yves produced a huge poncho.  It was so big that he had difficulty in finding the sleeves!!  Yes, his poncho has got sleeves and a zipped front!! I gallantly helped him to get dressed and said hopefully that by the time he got totally covered, the rain would stop!  

Well, it didn't!!  it became heavier and heavier!  I was so envious, looking at Yves' enormous poncho flapping in the wind.  Suddenly, an idea dawned on me.  I ran up behind him and asked if he minded sharing his huge tent with me.  Before he could answer, I was already hidden behind his ruck sack.  He was too gentleman to kick me out.  So, there I stayed in, marching in military synchronisation with the front man.  If it wasn't for Rod who gentlemanly offered me his red poncho, Yves and I would have enough practice to perform a Chinese Lion Dance! 

And here is one from HK. From the looks of it , Yves should have been at the rear and Myriam being lifted, as the lighter dancer is traditionally in front, though they do have to support and manipulate the Lion's head.

This reminded me of the pleasure of being in the company of gentlemen.  In our first VA walk in 1998, I was the only member of the fairer sex of the Magnificent Seven.  I was very pampered and well looked after.  All I needed to do was to concentrate on walking!  There were 6 gentlemen to manage all the other details.  I even got the best rooms in any of the accommodation.  In Alte, I was offered the larger room while Rod, Susan and Ian Angus shared a smaller suite!!  

There you are!  The WAGs men have, once again, proved that they are still gallant gentlemen!!  

    Was there ever a doubt?

I am a great believer in Karma. Not the Karma of the words of the Great Donald ,"It is what it is!". Not the Buddhist complication. Nor the Alicia Keys nor Boy George versions. For me it is the more delicate and wholesome Doris Day version - cue music!

During lunch last Wednesday, at a table with Rod and John, the waitress announced that one of the desserts would be Arroz Doce, which immediately conjured up visions of Boarding School rice pudding, and the gluey, congealed lumps of 60 years before, doled out by a white -encased grumpy fat cook, with her hair in a tight bun and a permanent scowl on her puffy face.

   

It came straight to me, and I started to mutter the lines:

"What is the matter with Mary Jane ?

She's crying again and she hasn't a pain!"

   Of course I had slightly misquoted the couple of lines from the 3rd stanza that I thought I had remembered - but hey....!

     The point is it turned the conversation to the great AA Milne, with whose works we all had a certain familiarity. John professed to have a copy of the original book 'Now we are Six' somewhere' but had mislaid it. However now it emerges as  the subtitle to this blog. The book of children's poems uses Six as an age, only, much as Jed Mercurio might do, John twisted that to mean 'Six Walkers'!

Here is the original poem:-

Rice Pudding

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's crying with all her might and main,
And she won't eat her dinner - rice pudding again -
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
I've promised her dolls and a daisy-chain,
And a book about animals - all in vain -
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's perfectly well, and she hasn't a pain;
But, look at her, now she's beginning again! -
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
I've promised her sweets and a ride in the train,
And I've begged her to stop for a bit and explain -
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's perfectly well and she hasn't a pain,
And it's lovely rice pudding for dinner again!
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

 John informed us that he thought he also had a parody book of verse by Christopher Matthew, called 'Now we are Sixty' -Obviously that ship has sailed for the WAGS, even Maria now, but it is a little darker, and the humour is advanced to adults only material in places.               

RADIO FOUR (after RICE PUDDING)

What is the matter with Radio Four?
 I can't find a programme to save my life,
And nor can my barber or dentist or wife.
 What is the matter with Radio Four?

Whatever became of the old On Your Farm,

 With those wonderful breakfasts of bangers and beer,

 And porridge and fishcakes and eggs and good cheer,

 And stories and insights and humour and charm?

Oh, where are those men with the glorious tones ?

Of dear Johnners and Blowers and those of their ilk.

 With their consonants clipped and their vowels like pure silk, 

And those ladies like middle-aged Sloanes?

And what of those comics who once made me giggle?

 Those wits on the News Quiz one never mistook?, 

Such as Hoggart and Hardy and Coren and Cook?

 The new lot do nothing but niggle.

What is the matter with Radio Four? 

I'm not an old fart and I'm not an old bore

 Or a grumpy old bugger like Evelyn Waugh, 

But it doesn't half stick in my craw!

As you can see,  a distant but humorous parody aimed fairly at the older types.

The Karma - which you have yet to discover, is that on Monday, just before John sent me the blog to publish, I was walking through Lagos, and went past 'The Owl Bookshop'.

   There resplendent in the window was a copy of the rare and desirable aforementioned  'When we are Sixty'. Incredulous I crept inside and made enquiries. and after about an hour's literary conversation, I escaped from Christine and her husband John, clutching the Treasured Tome. I had asked if they had a copy of 'Now we are 6' for comparison, but no single copies, only a nicely bound Box Set of the 4 poetry books, 'When We were Very Young, Now We are 6, Winnie the Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner ' which was priced out of my reach.  Great reading and bedtime stories for grandchildren  or quite likely great grandchildren.

 

Coincidentally, Christopher Matthew will be 82 on May 8th, and lives in Suffolk and London. I can't leave you without his modern take on Christopher Robin, also by A A Milne.

"They're changing sex at Buckingham Palace"

Murgatroyd muttered with undisguised malice.

'Roger is marrying one of the guard

Bugger whose bearskin reeks of pomade.

                                                     Called Alice!'