Sunday 20th March 2016
The highlight of my trip to England - here with Suzy in Cambridge by the River Cam just behind King's College |
Last Sunday Zena, our Ukranian weekend carer, made
borsch for us. My father and I were delighted as it is a dish we both love and
always brings back memories of my Russian born Mother who used to make it a
lot. Borsch is made with beetroot,
carrots, cabbage, potatoes and generally with meat of some sort too. We had to invent the Smetana (sour cream)
that goes with it by using Greek yoghurt and cream but it was still lovely.
Zena's borsch last Sunday |
Suzy, super happy in Lanzarote |
The two sisters reunited in Lanzarote, Suzy and Oli |
“Our Russian teacher was Mr C.C. Lloyd known, presumably because it began
with a C, as Clarence. He had
never previously taught me, though I had occasionally passed him in the
corridor. With his deep-set eyes, and Bobby Charlton-coiffed strands of grey
hair, he looked frowningly austere, quasi-sepulchral.
Our class was homely. There were only eight or nine of us. Up close he was
different. His eyes were a pale, piercing blue, and he liked to laugh. During
lessons we laughed a great deal. Sometimes, I regret to say, we laughed about
Clarence, and his crumpled suit, and his chalk-covered gown, and his
ceaselessly errant chalk (which sometimes, though surprisingly rarely, we had
hidden).
But more often we laughed with him about the quirks of Soviet life. ‘This’ll put a crack in the proud Soviet boast
about inflation’ he chuckled one morning, thumbing through a three-week-old
copy of Pravda. ‘Taxi fares are going up!’
Transport was one of his great interests. ‘You can read between the lines in Soviet
newspapers’ he informed us conspiratorially. ‘All kinds of titbits about rude bus-conductors!’
Clarence struggled to keep pace with his mind, which
raced around at the speed of light.
‘I’ll get my big super
etymological dictionary RIGHT NOW’ he declared portentously. ‘Where’s it gone? Oh, here it is. This real gem
of the dictionary is produced by the Academy of Science. Yes: 21 volumes! Ah
yes, now, er, let’s see, right… what am I looking up? I’ve forgotten.’
His logic was delightful. ‘It’s masculine,’ he assured us. ‘Unless you’re a girl. Then it’s different.’
‘The Ice Maiden’ he told us encouragingly, ‘is a Russian heroine, only she melts in Spring.’
Clarence appeared to run a thriving business in
the import of Soviet calendars and, rather like a master rewarding a dog with a
juicy bone, would dish out pieces of tear-off calendar to diligent pupils.
‘Here’s a bit of calendar for
you!’ he would say excitedly, as if he were clutching a gold ingot. ‘How to make yourself a parachute. No, I’ll keep it myself.
Have this one instead… something about hares jumping.’
Bits of calendar and old magazines, mainly Ogonëk but sometimes Izvestia
and occasionally Krokodil, were
our visual aids.
‘We’ll just have to soldier on’
he would exclaim motivationally. ‘We must hold out, stick it
out, and finish the book. That’s the great thing!’
This was his catch phrase.
‘Fibberty-gibbet
is my type of word!’ he assured us proudly. ‘It’s got panache, that’s the great
thing!’
Clarence had panache all right, and charisma, and a brain as big as a
bullock.
A palpably good man, with the naïvety and wisdom of a holy fool”.
I can hardly imagine my Father struggling to keep pace with his mind,
which raced around at the speed of light as he wasn’t like that at
home. I was also amazed by David W’s
stories of my Father teaching him Swedish ‘O’ level in just one term or giving
him Norwegian lessons at lunchtime. He
would have done that out of the kindness of his heart and to spur on a
brilliant pupil because neither Swedish nor Norwegian were taught at Bradford
Grammar School and he was the French, German and Russian language teacher. Some of the pupils I chatted to last Sunday
told me that not only did he have an enormous influence on their careers but
that he was one of the best teachers at the school. My Father was delighted to hear from me that
Simon H who is a critic of Russian art living in Geneva will be coming to see
him in the spring to interview him for a book he is writing. That will certainly be something for Daddy to
look forward to. These conversations made me see my Father in a different light
and made me extremely proud of him as you can imagine.
Sorry if I’m boring you with these tales. Now let me
get back to Russian cooking. After
making borsch on Sunday, Zena (Zinaida) made another dish for us; this time “golubtsy”
which is basically stuffed cabbage and another favourite Russian dish of ours
that my Mother used to make. I do know
how to make it but not as well as Zena and it’s also quite laborious to
make. We were to have it for lunch on
Monday and then again on Wednesday, once more with artificial Smetana. This is what it looks like.
Zena's delicious golubtsy |
Tuesday brought with it a big upheaval at home. The carpenters were coming to replace the
floor and skirting boards on practically all of the ground floor after the
recent leakage. This meant we had to
move out of our office. Thus we set up a
temporary one in the glass gallery or annex off our bedroom, a room we never
use which is a pity as it has lots of light and great views of the back
garden.
Working in our temporary new office |
Whilst all this was happening at home the girls were enjoying
their last day in Lanzarote. This
volcanic Canary Island is famous for surfing and some of the group had lessons,
including my daring daughter Suzy. I loved this photo of her with the
surfboard. She was later to tell me she
fell off it every time hahaha.
Suzy going surfing for the first time in Lanzarote |
The girls' last day in Lanzarote - a good time was had by all. |
Lunch with my ex Nokia colleagues on Tuesday |
My look alike Marilyn Monroe hairdo hahaha. |
Salah Abdesalam the repentant suicide bomber who was caught this week in Brussels |
The aftermath of the Ankara bombings last Sunday |
That night I woke up with a migraine at 4 in the
morning and took a paracetamol. At 5 It was getting worse and I took another
one. At 6 a.m. I threw up because of the migraine and the overdose. It was an
awful night. Thankfully by about 9 I was
getting better although the headache would not leave me until the next day. I
do hate these episodes. They are often
triggered by a piece of chocolate or glass of wine before I go to bed, yet on
Tuesday night I hadn’t had either so don’t really know what caused it. Thankfully the episodes are few and far
between but Tuesday night’s was especially bad.
Wednesday was the day of my trip to London to spend 4
days with Suzy before she started her new job the following Monday. After packing I spent most of the day getting
as much work out of the way as possible so as to leave everything neatly tied up
and be able to go away in peace.
Eladio took me to the airport and we got there just
before 5 for my 18.10 flight to Gatwick with Norwegian. It was to be my first trip with the budget
airline and I had heard it was good; the great advantage being able to use wifi
on board. But it was not to be a successful trip. No sooner had I stepped into the airport than
I got an sms from them to say the flight was delayed until 20.40. Oh dear, I thought I will have to wait for
2.5 hours. As the time neared my fellow
passengers and I began to fear the worst as we heard that the incoming plane
hadn’t left Birmingham. We were getting zero
information, so I contacted the airline on twitter and ended up knowing more
than anyone about the flight at the airport and being the messenger of the news
to my fellow passengers and even the ground staff. I then found the pilot who informed me the
flight was cancelled and went on to tell me 3 of their aircraft were grounded
for technical repairs in Europe. 3
airplanes! I wondered at the quality and
safety of this budget airline and got a bit scared. The frustrating part was that it became too
late to get a seat on another outbound flight to London but of course Norwegian
had my luggage so I couldn’t although I would later find out they were fully
booked. Another sms arrived to confirm
the cancellation and included a number to call in Norway! Their customer
service at Madrid airport was inexistent and there was not one representative present.
When I called I was offered another
flight the next day at 18.10, wasting a whole night and day of my short break
to see Suzy. That was when I got into
action and rushed out of departures to retrieve my luggage and try to get on
another plane. I was followed by a
motley group of fellow cross passengers who were later to become my friends. I
retrieved my luggage but there were no seats on any of the last flights that night. So I quickly booked one on Iberia the next
morning which was leaving at 08.50 for an extortionate amount of money, more
than double what I had already paid for my flight there and back. Norwegian at least offered accommodation,
dinner and breakfast at a hotel by the airport which I opted to accept rather
than getting Eladio to drive all the way to pick me up and making him rise at
the crack of dawn the next day. Thus I found myself sleeping at the Marriott
Auditorium at Barajas that night which felt very strange as one doesn’t often
stay at a hotel in one’s home town. To
be honest I had expected a “crappy” place but it was great quality. When I got
there I decided to make the best of the situation and in the end enjoyed a pleasant
commiserating dinner with my new friends, Sam, Jane, Emma and Hanna from the UK
and John and his Mother who are Colombian.
Here we are together at dinner on Wednesday night. It was lovely to meet them and quite a fun
dinner but I would have far preferred to be in London with Suzy as I’m sure you
will understand. I shall be claiming
compensation from Norwegian and if it proves difficult, as I have been told it
will, I shall kick up a huge fuss on their social media sites. P.S. I shall never fly Norwegian again and
advise you not to either because they have proved they do not know how to look
after stranded passengers, don’t seem to care much either and have faulty
planes and a very limited fleet of aircraft.
An unexpected dinner on Wednesday night - at Madrid airport! |
Whilst I've been in London this week Eladio went to his beloved Montrondo |
But back to London. I got to Victoria at around 11.45
and there was my darling daughter Suzy to pick me up. We hugged for what seemed like an awful long
time as we hadn’t seen each other since Christmas. She was looking gorgeous. We went straight to
her home in Camden on the tube. Her new
house which she shares with Anita from “La Manada” and two delightful
Argentinian friends and sisters, Julieta and Vicky who both work for Amazon at their UK HQ,
is really nice and a huge improvement from her previous accommodation in
Whitechapel, Canada Water and Bermondsey.
Here we are in a selfie outside her front door.
Outside Suzy's house on the first day, about to hit Oxford Street! |
Shopping at Uniqlo on the first day |
Very happy with my new fisherman's raincoat from Urban Outfitters |
Coming home in a cab with all our shopping |
With my parents and brother George outside our old house in Cambridge - circa 1961 |
Suzy on King's Parade in Cambridge |
King's College Cambridge |
From Caius we made our way to The Punter pub where we had
booked a table for lunch. I had found it
on Trip Advisor and it met my expectations.
Here I took a photo of my daughter who seems to look more beautiful
every day as she is turning into a woman.
Suzy at The Punter pub where we had lunch in Cambridge |
From The Punter we decided to walk to the house where
I was born on 291 Milton Road. It was a
long walk. In fact we walked so much
that day I was pleased to see that according to my fitbit we had done over 19km
in one day.
My fitbit on Friday the day we went to Cambridge, we walked nearly 20km in one day! |
Outside the house where I was born on 291 Milton Road in Cambridge |
We walked back via Jesus Green to the City Centre and
there was not much to do until our bus was leaving at 18.50. We sat down in a café to escape from the cold
and I took the opportunity to catch up on some burning issues at work. Thank
god for mobile phones when you are on the move.
The bus leaving was late and we weren’t home till 9.30 and we were
exhausted. I staggered into bed after a
meagre dinner and slept until 7.30 the next day.
Yesterday, Saturday morning, we had a leisurely
breakfast and didn’t leave the house until 10.30. We caught the 29 bus, using our oyster cards
and got off near Tottenham Court Road where Suzy took me to Planet Organic
where she has been working for 9 months but has left for a job as a sales
representative with the up and coming supplement company Bare Biology whose
brand Lion Heart is doing very well. Hopefully Suzy will be at least as happy with
them as she has been with Planet Organic. I met many of her colleagues and Suzy turned
our time there into a blast greeting everyone and introducing them all to me. We did lots of shopping there too as the products
on sale are fabulous. I shall miss the free
sample products Suzy used to give usL
Suzy at Planet Organic on Saturday morning |
Joining the demonstration in Oxford Street (for the photo only altho I completely agree with the protest) |
From Geox we made our way to the new flagship store of
Uniqlo which was opening that day on Oxford Street. I wanted to get another ultra-light down parka,
the hooded water defender model which wasn’t available at their other store. It
was here I think I lost my lovely blue fur collar. A huge party was going on for the opening day. I
love their ultra-light down parkas so I hope the store soon comes to
Spain. We met a lovely girl outside, one
of the promoters giving out balloons. She was of a half Japanese half
Philippine Mother and Spanish Father and couldn’t have been more beautiful or
exotic. Don’t you agree?
The Uniqlo opening promotion of their new flagship store on Oxford Street |
Unfortunately when we returned to Geox the shoes had
not arrived so we had to wait for a while.
We sat outside on an empty bench and watched the world go by. A young man came up to Suzy and just told her
how beautiful he thought she was. I
couldn’t agree more haha. It was a funny moment which made us laugh.
A collage of Suzy waiting for me on Oxford Street outside Geox yesterday afternoon |
With our friends Keith and Lorraine who treated me to dinner last night at The Palm Court Brasserie in Covent Garden. |
I was home by 11 and soon in bed reading my book; “The
sons of fortune” by Jeffrey Archer. And
today is Sunday, my last full day with Suzy.
We plan to visit Camden Market and walk to Primrose Hill and I’m not yet
sure how the rest of the day will pan out.
Now I will leave you as Suzy has just got up and I don’t
want to waste my time with her writing my blog.
You will hear again from me next Sunday, Easter Day
and find out all about the end of my trip to London, my journey home and then
our stay in Montrondo.
Cheers till then/Masha
1 comment:
Hello Masha - another little anecdote on that note. Your father taught me German A level at night class in Saltaire from 1974-76 after which I studied German and Swedish at the University of Hull. I now live in Denmark and am a fluent speaker of Danish and Swedish. I did my postgraduate research on Scandinavia during WW2 and have taught at Swedish and Danish universities, mainly languages.
I also studied at Bradford Tech with your brother, George I think it was.
While googling for Mr Lloyd today I found the Yorkshire Post article about his 100th birthday which was educational in so many ways.
I hope you will point out this post to your wonderful father. I was in written contact with him until moving to Sweden, when I lost touch. I have always wondered how he was and whether he was still around in West Yorkshire.
My email address is peter.dalby@get2net.dk please do pass it on. Do feel free to post my comment or not, as you see fit. :) Highest regards Peter Dalby
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