Preposthumosity
When my friend the host of Papalscope saw how much interest my earlier contributions to the Preposthumosity Column had generated, he invited me to take it over on a regular basis. He suggested that I might use it as a platform from which I could deliver helpful guidance to others as formulated during a life time serving in Her Majesty's British Army; both as an Officer and a Gentleman my wife assures me.
I regret My friends invitation came too late to allow me to write this column last month,. I was otherwise occupied as leader of the 'Society of Unaffiliated Independents' That apart there was another matter occupying my attention., a short expedition I thought. It was really rather funny so thought it might amuse if I share detail of it with my readers.
French Campaign June 2006
There has been a little miscomprehension in the Wrant Camp. I thought the Lady wife had suggested we visit Panama for a short break. It surprised me as she is disinclined to travel any further than what she terms ‘La Belle France’ for there we spend the autumn months each year. I leave all administrative arrangements for that to her; so was happy that she assume charge of this expedition too. It gives her something to do. My sole involvement was to order a new Panama Hat from the firm that advertises in the Times.
When the taxi picked us up I expected to be taken to Heathrow, but was mistaken, for it deposited us at the Local Rail Station only there did Phyllis advise that we would be travelling all the way by train. She was clearly confused but I said nothing and dozed off . At Waterloo there being no sign of a Porter, Phyllis insisted that she not I be in charge of her ‘wheelie’ case, saying that any such exertion would be bad for my heart. I don’t know what she meant by that. I am on blood pressure pills but those tend to affect areas other than my heart.
As if all that was not bad enough Phyllis then confessed that we were not on our way to Panama, but to Paname. This apparently the current fashionable incarnation of Paris. Maybe the French might publish a calendar advising which particular name one was to use when visiting their Capital in any specified year. Paris. Paree, Gay Parie, Paname? That name reminds me of a failed Airline. I was flabbergasted but soon fell asleep. Maybe had we paid to be what was termed ‘Upgraded’ we would have been treated better. That however was never my way, what was good enough for my men, was good enough for me too. I might add that what is good enough for the French must surely be good enough for the British. Phyllis pointed out a notice offering a seven Euro weekend return ticket to London from Paris. I understand that the Chunnel, along with so many of the other Works of Thatcherism does not prosper. I appreciate why that is so, for I did not care for the attitude of Eurostar Staff, and have no intention of submitting myself, or my lady wife to them again. Never again shall we travel Eurostar , such treatment besmirched my Regimental Battle Honour of Waterloo.
Phyllis suggested a taxi at the Gare du Nord, but our Hotel being only 500 metres from the terminus. I insisted we walk. I felt entirely at home en route, and took the opportunity to talk to many of the residents in their own tongues, which seemed to be any tongue other than French. During my long career in the Army I accumulated a working knowledge of the peoples of many Nations.
Our Hotel was basic and according to Phyllis gave excellent value for the money. I have never found the necessity to understand how many Euros make a pound, but well recall that on my first visit to France one was given one hundred francs for every Pound Sterling proffered. That was a very simple concept.
We suffered our five days in Paris without undue complaint from me. I pulled my Panama down over my eyes, in the hope that none would recognise me, and just got on with it. Truth was I felt myself but a Tourist. It was an humiliating experience, never again shall I go to the Continent unless with our ancient Rolls.
An American couple we met on the Metro wanted to know who where when and how much every thing was. They imparted the information that they were living in an air conditioned, four star American Hotel. Simple folk our Colonial Cousins, whom Phyllis countered with the information that I was a Four Star General. Very naughty of her but it did have its funny side. Maybe they were right to stick to their own kind, there is no telling what any one of us is up against at home or abroad.
I am little the wiser after visiting Paris again. The City’s History seems to divide into the Peasant fuelled Aristocratic phase which produced the Louvre and buildings of similar status. Then came The Aristocratic fuelled Revolution which had little to commend it. This period was followed by the ‘La Delusion’ or Napoleonic Period, after which came the even more grandiose ‘Belle Epoch’, which has recently deteriorated to such manifestations as ‘La Defence’, and the Pompidou centre. This particular building would seem to have been the precursor to the 'Lloyds of London' Building, not the Bank the other Fellows.
I have never seen such a lot of twaddle assembled together in one place as we found in the Pompidou. My overall impression of Paris was that I had stumbled on a Theme Park, one that was all ‘Gloire’ without substance.
The Parisian’s have the reputation of keeping themselves to themselves. This may be so, however if such is the case one may suspect any such insularity arises through their embarrassment at the French Life Style. This is not written as adverse comment. I am all for them doing as they see fit in their own country even though I regret being unable so to do in our own. Maybe they have things right and we are now getting them wrong. All I wish to convey is that we the IndigineousBritish used do things differently. I regret that in our now devisively separated Nationhood , we seem to be collapsing into the same cauldron that the French fueled on the demise of their Colonial Empire.
I was very pleased to get home safely.
General Wrant.
Founding Life President of the Society of unaffiliated Independents.
I regret My friends invitation came too late to allow me to write this column last month,. I was otherwise occupied as leader of the 'Society of Unaffiliated Independents' That apart there was another matter occupying my attention., a short expedition I thought. It was really rather funny so thought it might amuse if I share detail of it with my readers.
French Campaign June 2006
There has been a little miscomprehension in the Wrant Camp. I thought the Lady wife had suggested we visit Panama for a short break. It surprised me as she is disinclined to travel any further than what she terms ‘La Belle France’ for there we spend the autumn months each year. I leave all administrative arrangements for that to her; so was happy that she assume charge of this expedition too. It gives her something to do. My sole involvement was to order a new Panama Hat from the firm that advertises in the Times.
When the taxi picked us up I expected to be taken to Heathrow, but was mistaken, for it deposited us at the Local Rail Station only there did Phyllis advise that we would be travelling all the way by train. She was clearly confused but I said nothing and dozed off . At Waterloo there being no sign of a Porter, Phyllis insisted that she not I be in charge of her ‘wheelie’ case, saying that any such exertion would be bad for my heart. I don’t know what she meant by that. I am on blood pressure pills but those tend to affect areas other than my heart.
At the far end of the Station she led the way through what I imagined to be Airport Security. I had the usual problem with the metal plate in my leg. It set off the detector and although I explained the situation, no less than four Security Staff insisted that I be frisked. Their attitude was unhelpful, and I thought myself more a victim of a mugging, than a fare paying passenger. This incident did nothing for multi culturalism as this Security team was comprised of four Black Britons. My only complaint of that is that I noticed on the return journey the team had been replaced by four White Anglo Saxons types. I have made complaint to the Race Relations Board that apparently ethnically segregated Security teams are operating at Waterloo, for it seemed more than coincidental to me that there was such demarcation between Blacks and Whites. Maybe there are Asian Operatives too, maybe not? Either this Country is Multi-Cultural or it isn’t. If it is, then there is no place for such ethnic separation, be it at Waterloo or in the ‘Black Police Officers Association’. It is not right that things be so. It is un-necessary to have such demarcation in her Majesty's Services, and what is good enough for us is surely good enogh for all matter of Civilian personnel. If it fostered discontent in me, it will fuel Racial Discontent in others, and will most surely lead to tears. My experience at Waterloo made me feel as a foreigner in our own Country.
As if all that was not bad enough Phyllis then confessed that we were not on our way to Panama, but to Paname. This apparently the current fashionable incarnation of Paris. Maybe the French might publish a calendar advising which particular name one was to use when visiting their Capital in any specified year. Paris. Paree, Gay Parie, Paname? That name reminds me of a failed Airline. I was flabbergasted but soon fell asleep. Maybe had we paid to be what was termed ‘Upgraded’ we would have been treated better. That however was never my way, what was good enough for my men, was good enough for me too. I might add that what is good enough for the French must surely be good enough for the British. Phyllis pointed out a notice offering a seven Euro weekend return ticket to London from Paris. I understand that the Chunnel, along with so many of the other Works of Thatcherism does not prosper. I appreciate why that is so, for I did not care for the attitude of Eurostar Staff, and have no intention of submitting myself, or my lady wife to them again. Never again shall we travel Eurostar , such treatment besmirched my Regimental Battle Honour of Waterloo.
Phyllis suggested a taxi at the Gare du Nord, but our Hotel being only 500 metres from the terminus. I insisted we walk. I felt entirely at home en route, and took the opportunity to talk to many of the residents in their own tongues, which seemed to be any tongue other than French. During my long career in the Army I accumulated a working knowledge of the peoples of many Nations.
Our Hotel was basic and according to Phyllis gave excellent value for the money. I have never found the necessity to understand how many Euros make a pound, but well recall that on my first visit to France one was given one hundred francs for every Pound Sterling proffered. That was a very simple concept.
We suffered our five days in Paris without undue complaint from me. I pulled my Panama down over my eyes, in the hope that none would recognise me, and just got on with it. Truth was I felt myself but a Tourist. It was an humiliating experience, never again shall I go to the Continent unless with our ancient Rolls.
An American couple we met on the Metro wanted to know who where when and how much every thing was. They imparted the information that they were living in an air conditioned, four star American Hotel. Simple folk our Colonial Cousins, whom Phyllis countered with the information that I was a Four Star General. Very naughty of her but it did have its funny side. Maybe they were right to stick to their own kind, there is no telling what any one of us is up against at home or abroad.
I am little the wiser after visiting Paris again. The City’s History seems to divide into the Peasant fuelled Aristocratic phase which produced the Louvre and buildings of similar status. Then came The Aristocratic fuelled Revolution which had little to commend it. This period was followed by the ‘La Delusion’ or Napoleonic Period, after which came the even more grandiose ‘Belle Epoch’, which has recently deteriorated to such manifestations as ‘La Defence’, and the Pompidou centre. This particular building would seem to have been the precursor to the 'Lloyds of London' Building, not the Bank the other Fellows.
I have never seen such a lot of twaddle assembled together in one place as we found in the Pompidou. My overall impression of Paris was that I had stumbled on a Theme Park, one that was all ‘Gloire’ without substance.
The Parisian’s have the reputation of keeping themselves to themselves. This may be so, however if such is the case one may suspect any such insularity arises through their embarrassment at the French Life Style. This is not written as adverse comment. I am all for them doing as they see fit in their own country even though I regret being unable so to do in our own. Maybe they have things right and we are now getting them wrong. All I wish to convey is that we the IndigineousBritish used do things differently. I regret that in our now devisively separated Nationhood , we seem to be collapsing into the same cauldron that the French fueled on the demise of their Colonial Empire.
I was very pleased to get home safely.
General Wrant.
Founding Life President of the Society of unaffiliated Independents.
posted by PAPALSCOPE | 9:41 AM
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