Friday, October 30/2025

 Like lemons pomegranates often grow on the road side of the fence. Though like the oranges they’re a little on the dry side this year. There really hasn’t been enough rain and Cyprus is at risk of desertification at the best of times.

Look up the Turkish for pomegranate and am pleased to find it’s short and simple - nar. We’re lucky when the names of fruit and vegetables are easy to recognise. For example the Turkish for beans is fasulye, which is very similar to the Polish. Potatoes Are patatesler - not too far off. And tomatoes are  domates. Those last two possibly helped by being relatively recent imports to the European scene, as in late 17th century for tomatoes and late 18th for potatoes. But banana is muz. Grapes are üzümler.

Obviously it’s possible to simply pick up produce and pay at the checkout. Tins and jars can be a bit trickier. And most difficult is having to ask for a product, probably with a less than perfect accent. Always reminded of a Peruvian boarder I once had who came to me requesting fla-teer-un. Accent on the second syllable. Eventually he produced a Spanish English dictionary and pointed to “flatiron”. Not what I’d have called it but no problem. So a permanent travel warning. If you have the right word and pronounce it badly enough no one will have a clue what you want.

And we will be looking for pomegranate syrup. Thicker and more tart than grenadine but lovely as condiment or glaze.

Thursday, October 30/2025

Cyprus Mail ( South) reports on the sentencing of a Turkish apartment owner following his attempt to avoid responsibility for the deaths of ninety-six people who were tenants in a block of flats he owned. The building collapsed in the February 2023 earthquake. As did many other buildings, of course. However, as the file photo shows not all structures in a given area collapsed and the assumption is that the difference is down to lack of adherence to structural standards. In Adana, the city in question, only eleven apartment buildings collapsed.

An arrest warrant was issued for the owner but he had anticipated this and had flown to Northern Cyprus on the day of the quake. He then attempted to transfer $990,000 US, €890,000 and 500,000 Turkish lira out of Türkiye and tried to purchase an apartment in Nicosia. He was captured within a week and returned to Türkiye where he was convicted and sentenced to 62 concurrent life sentences.

It’s difficult to feel great sympathy for the man, although the Cyprus Mail’s heading - Owner of Collapsed Building Given 865 Years in Jail After Trying to Flee to Cyprus - is a little gleefully dramatic. It takes a moment to realise that the sentences were concurrent - after a cartoon type mental image of a skeleton tied to the prison window bars.

But what the article doesn’t mention is that Türkiye collected a special earthquake tax for over twenty years following a major 1999 earthquake. The money was intended to improve standards so that future quakes caused less damage. However, it appears that much of  it went on other government projects and construction companies were allowed to evade the new standards.

Wednesday, October 29/2025

Courtesy of Britannica

Today is a public holiday. A secular one and therefore one with a fixed date, but nonetheless one of the unfamiliar ones that seem to catch us unawares. And it’s a borrowed one, sort of.

It’s Türkiye’s Republic Day, the hundred and second anniversary of Kemal Atatürk proclaiming Türkiye to be a republic. Celebrated in Türkiye with parades and concerts. A bit quieter here, though the population is largely ethnically Turkish, but government offices and banks are closed. Supermarkets and restaurants mostly not.

We have reason to be grateful to Atatürk as it is down to him that Turkish has used a slightly adapted Latin alphabet since 1928 replacing a modified Arabic script that had been in place for the previous nine hundred years. It means that despite Turkish not being an Indo-European language and having unfamiliar vocabulary and grammatical structures it’s easy to look up words and - sort of - easy to sound them out.

Our travels have overlapped with Atatürk’s, albeit with a significant time lapse. Think it was 2008 we stayed at the Baron Hotel in Aleppo, Syria. Atatürk stayed there much earlier as an Ottoman officer and is said to have mounted guns on the roof to ward off attacks by the British and Arabs. He apparently occupied Room 201, in the days before there was a presidential suite (and in any case long before he was a president). We stayed in Room 203 - previously occupied by Agatha Christie as she was writing part of Murder on the Orient Express.

Unsure whether Mehmet is actually going to deliver the water today. Has he forgotten that it is a public holiday or does he do his rounds regardless. So J stays at the flat in case he comes and I go down to Laptamar for bread and bananas and grapes and onions. Come back to find a cheerful Mehmet waving as he is about to leave with the empty 19 litre bottle. J locked inside the flat. Full bottle on the landing. Turns out I had left with my key and J had misplaced his. Key necessary to open door from either side. So how did you do it, I ask. Tossed the empty (plastic) bottle from the balcony for Mehmet to catch. Slid hundred lira note under the door. No conversation involved as they have little language in common but can see that Mehmet understands the scenario when he spots me coming up the road.

Tuesday, October 28/2025

While we have oranges on the tree next to the patio, the neighbours in the house next door have more and larger oranges on their tree, the eastern branches of which cascade over the concrete wall and overhang our side.

The neighbours are away, but I feel oddly awkward about picking “their” oranges even though I think it’s perfectly legitimate. And clearly if it were wrong their being away would make no moral difference . Not only are the oranges hanging on our side but it would be virtually impossible for the neighbours to pick them. Couldn’t be done from their place. They would have to come to our building and knock on the door of our flat (stepladder under arm), trek through our apartment and exit through our bedroom onto the patio. Not a likely scenario.

Peaceful here but last night western Türkiye experienced a 6.1 magnitude earthquake at 22:48 local time, with a 4.2 m aftershock minutes later. Not felt here but was in Izmir and Istanbul. No deaths reported.

Monday, October 27/2025

Yellow oleander. Actually lives next door but overhangs our patio so we get to enjoy its sunny - if toxic -presence.

As compensation for the power cut that was announced but didn’t not occur on Friday, we have an unannounced electrical cut this morning. Not problematic as we cook with gas, as do most people here, and begins after morning coffee in any case.

Sunday, October 25/2025

October 26/25 16:00

Daylight savings time in Cyprus, North and South, ended in the wee small hours of this morning, as it did in most of Europe. And twice a year I lament the inability of two sides of the Atlantic to agree on a date for the change. Can’t be a substantive problem as they’re only a week apart. Must be more like why should we change - why not you. Doesn’t really give one much hope for negotiations on more serious matters like world peace.

Easier to understand why whole countries adopt one time zone regardless of the number of degrees of longitude. Think Türkiye, for instance. Or more strikingly China, a huge country where everyone is on Beijing time - very convenient for the capital. And why some countries opt against seasonal change. After all you get the same number of hours of daylight regardless. 

As Saskatchewan has sensibly realised. Although Saskatchewan is an interesting case. Germany is often cited as being the first country to adopt daylight savings in 1916 as a war measure. But nearly eight years before that, on July 1, 1908, Port Arthur Ontario became the first municipality in the world to declare daylight savings time. The second Canadian city to do this was Regina, Saskatchewan, on April 23, 1914. Saskatchewan as a pioneer of daylight savings? It’s the province that never moves to daylight savings. Well, sort of. Geographically Saskatchewan falls under Mountain Time, so it could be said to be permanently on Mountain Daylight Savings. (And yes, I do understand that Saskatchewan is more complicated than that!)

And speaking of mountains, the effect of daylight savings is fairly dramatic here as we live on the side of a mountain. In theory sunset in Lapta today should be 16:59, and maybe at sea level it is, But at 16:00 the sun disappears behind the mountain, an hour earlier than yesterday.

Saturday, October 25/2025

Market day today. Lambousa market is not primarily - or even reliably - fruit and vegetables . Does have clothing, both new and used, as well as inexpensive jewellery, craft items, used books. General rummage sale mixture, some things sold by entrepreneurs and others to raise funds for charities, especially cancer patient support and animal rescue.

A large man in a pink shirt strolls through the market singing. Occasionally happens in Mediterranean countries, exciting no particular comment but never seems to occur in northern lands except with small children.

Collect a bottle of olive oil that Karen, from Kyrenia Animal Rescue bookstall, has brought for us. Oil from her own trees which she watched being cold pressed at a local press. Also pick up a book, Unreliable Sources. Written by veteran international journalist John Simpson. A book about how journalists reported the major events of the twentieth century. To no one’s surprise bias, political pressure and self censorship are not new. Looks like a good read - his previous books were. Also acquire a dozen free range eggs from Tina’s husband. Ninety Turkish lira ($3.00 CAD, £1.61).

Back home J makes humus. Have no lemons. The tree across the road doesn’t seem to have been prolific this year but there are a couple of small ones this side of the fence. Looks like we’ll be buying them for the first time - though they’re not expensive.

Friday, October 24/2025

Drinking coffee and reading the morning news when I spot a notice advising of a power cut between 10:00 and 13:00. Current time 9:50. Notice somewhat confusing - apparently correct in the original Turkish, slightly mistranslated into English by the municipality, and finally corrected by Ralph. So yes, today, and yes between ten and one - more or less that is, as is the way with maintenance. The question is precisely where. A scattering of locations mentioned with some east of us and some west, some at higher altitude than us and some on the seafront. So assume fair likelihood that we’re in the target area. But so far so good, although a couple of people in Lapta report they have already lost power.

Not exactly a problem, but unwilling to begin a shower if sudden loss of electric pump may result in hair shampooed but not rinsed. Opt to head out to regular Friday gathering at the Blue Song unshowered. Actually, sun hot enough that sweat would have nullified shower effects anyway. 

Spot Criegan when we walk in, with others overlooking the sea. The smokers group - though not all are. Usually outside unless it’s broiling or raining. John and Beverley join us shortly. Happy catch up.

Power cut never happens.

 

Power outage?

Thursday, October 23/2025

 One of the pleasures of Cyprus is the variety of flowering plants and trees. Most become somewhat less showy in winter but it isn’t winter yet. We pass this bougainvillea on the way to the dolmuş. No scent, but plenty of flair.

Ralph reports that Customs and Excise in Famagusta has arrested the driver of a truck who has entered the country “from abroad” [Turkey?] with 7600 kilos of tomatoes “hidden and not declared”. He wants to know how on earth one could hide that quantity of tomatoes. Some comment re this being predictable in times of escalating produce prices - and, they say, deteriorating quality. 

Stop at Credit West to get Turkish lira. J points out that we have, in the sterling acquired in the UK, two King Charles III five pound notes. And also observes that they are noticeably smaller than previous £5 notes. Less immediately obvious as British notes, like euros and unlike Canadian bills, are different sizes for different denominations. Helpful for the visually impaired if less neat in the wallet. Google confirms. The new £5 notes are fifteen percent smaller than past ones.

Courtesy of Bank of England

Wednesday, October 22

 

A bit too early in the season for oranges. May have been too dry as well. There are quite a few on the tree next to the patio but they’re very small as well as being not quite ripe. None in our supermarket yet either. 

There is a fig tree across the road from us. Goes some way toward blocking the view of the Mediterranean but actually that is somehow less annoying than new construction doing the same. Lots of figs on it but far from ripe yet. Most of the branches, and therefore figs are behind the orchard fence but those overhanging the road are considered legitimately public property. Though there unripeness doesn’t seem to deter elderly passersby much - woman in photo only one of a number - so by the time they’re ready there probably won’t be any left within reach.

The goat seems still to be in residence in its shed just inside the orchard fence, as we occasionally hear it. Doesn’t seem to have become the entrée at any of the holiday feasts so maybe it’s being kept for milk.

Turns out the estimable Mehmet, who delivers the gas cylinders, also delivers bottled water. Nineteen litre bottles. Much handier than carrying home five litre bottles. Reachable on WhatsApp with a slight mixture of English and Turkish.

Tuesday, October 21/2025

 

Photo posted mid-afternoon by fellow North Cypriot. 

Not sure of her location but wake up this morning saying “it’s not sunny”. Unusual enough to require comment, despite the fact that there have been dust warnings (usual culprit the Sahara) so haze not surprising. Although J points out in response to my exclamation that our floor to ceiling windows could use a good wash. And indeed sliding a window open does reveal if not bright sky at least noticeably less dust. And in compensation temperature is about twenty-five and the breeze as we drink our coffee on the patio is quite pleasant. 

First grocery shop. Sheep’s milk yoghurt (difficult to find in London and virtually unobtainable in most of Canada), sour dough bread baked - though undoubtedly not fermented - on the premises, and a bottle of Spanish Tempranillo. Onions, red peppers, cherry tomatoes, mushrooms and sun dried olives and small slim aubergines become tonight’s pasta sauce.

Snails are popular with Cypriots on both sides of the border and are often gathered in the fields to cook with olive oil and garlic. This little one won’t become our appetiser. Discovered not on the patio - where they often appear - but affixed to a wall inside the flat. Not much more than a centimetre in diameter.

Monday, October 20/2025

 

Well, after ten days of warmer than average weather and no rain, it does rain ☔️ this morning as we leave - at six - for the airport. But not heavily, and after the fifteen minute walk to the tube station we’re not in the open. Tube surprisingly full for this early in the morning and most on the Piccadilly line not going to the airport. One woman asleep for a solid half hour. If this were a mystery story it would turn out that she’d been dead and no one noticed, but she revives shortly before her stop.

Arrive at the airport at twenty past seven and all goes well at the check in kiosk except that the seats assigned are not the ones we paid for and they’re not together. Looks like the kind of digital screw up humans will deny all responsibility for but actually the nice young man on the desk tears up the newly dispensed boarding passes and gives us ones with the seats we booked.

Istanbul transfer probably the fastest we’ve experienced anywhere. Flight to North Cyprus a little over an hour and a half but includes a hot toasted chicken and cheese sandwich and red wine - perfectly drinkable despite being in a paper cup. Hard to complain about free meals.

Met by Ozzie’s taxi as promised and home.

Sunday, October 19/2025

 Last day on our street. Actually slightly drizzly, although this is the first rain we’ve seen since we arrived. For which we should take credit as we’ve remembered umbrellas. The one year we didn’t it rained copiously.

Flat has been excellent - with the exception of the day a mouse invaded. Not an unknown event in our summertime existence, of course. And when we awoke to a rustling sound we were just relieved to find it was caused by a mouse and not a rat. The saying that one is never more than six feet from a rat in London is almost certainly exaggeration ( and think I first heard it as ten feet anyway). But there are many rats. Plenty of mice as well. The prime minister’s residence at 10 Downing Street has Larry the Cat, official mouser who has outlasted several prime ministers - not all that difficult in recent years.

And with a high street full of restaurants and pubs and associated refuse no intelligent rat would trek three blocks over to investigate us.

Saturday, October 18/2025

 

To Green Park. An astonishing forty-seven percent of London is green space, much of it open to the public.  Green Park itself is forty-seven acres of green space and is linked to St James’s Park and Hyde Park. It’s an inviting park, with green lawns and towering plane trees well over a hundred years old. 

Plenty of space for walking or kicking a ball and also some quieter activities. We pass a young father and baby engrossed in a story book as well as families with small children. How many are tourists? Very hard to tell and certainly not by language. My guess is that most aren’t - except at the end of the park by Buckingham Palace. His majesty, unsurprisingly, is not in residence, as the royal standard has been replaced by the Union Jack. 

J interested in seeing the Canadian Veterans Memorial. We’ve been here before. It had deteriorated at one point, and at another time Conrad Black was reportedly maintaining it. Now an attractive fountain with bronze maple leaves under the running water. 

And now in the autumn falling leaves from the plane trees have joined the memorial. They’re often larger than maple leaves, and they’re brown rather than red, but they’re the same shape.

Back on Kilburn High Road we pick up a couple of small lamb burgers and a small chips for £3.  Works out equivalent to $5 CAD plus Ontario tax. Surprising find here too, but very tasty.

Friday, October 17/2025

Meet up with Jenny for coffee at the Victoria and Albert museum. Not the only museum or gallery with a café but undoubtedly the most impressive - and said to be the world’s first museum café. An aesthetic experience in its own right. 

Long unhurried chat, and a little time at the end to admire some of the sculptures in this end of the building. Other treasures reserved for another occasion.

Both of us moved by a statue by Aimé-Jules Dalou - not only the subject but also the warmth of the terracotta. Dates to 1873. Dalou was forced into exile by the overthrow of the Paris commune but continued to choose appropriately socialist working class themes.

More modern commentary on display as well. Beside the pool in the inner courtyard is a large installation by Polish artist Alicja Patanowska. Materials were sourced from one of the largest mining waste reservoirs in Europe and we are asked to reflect on the implications of waste and consumption of resources. We’re permitted to sit on the edge and touch gently but not to climb on the structure.

Visit with Jenny too short, as always. Though there’s always next April.

Thursday, October 16/2025

 

Kilburn is very old. Well, not surprising as London itself is old. Though not much there before the Roman conquest. That was two thousand and change years ago but recent by European standards. The Romans, like the accomplished colonisers they were, chose a good shipping spot and set to work. Kilburn High Road is an extension of the Edgware Road, a long straight road leading north from London and in fact part of Watling Street, the route the Romans built, or rebuilt on various earlier tracks, from Dover to north Wales.

At a much later point, as in the twelfth century, Kilburn became the site of an Augustinian Priory where a community of canonesses (no, spellcheck, I was not trying to write Cantonese’s, whatever that might be) who provided accommodation for travellers. This was located by a well, and Kilburn Wells became known for its waters and by the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries became a popular recreational area within walking distance of London proper, the priory having long ago fallen victim to Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries. 

Also in the 18th and 19th centuries noted for boxing matches - no rounds and could last two hours until the final knockout. And duels, still legal at that time, including, apparently, one on July 2, 1792 involving Benedict Arnold. Arnold missed and his opponent refused to fire back so no great drama.

Kilburn has always sounded Irish, and there are Kilburns in Ireland but that’s not the origin of the name of the London Kilburn. The “burn” part, historians agree, means stream - and refers to a stream now non-existent - or more accurately now underground. A term still in common use in Scotland. “Kil” is less clear, but possibly refers to cattle. 

Not that there have not been - and still are - Irish in Kilburn. “ For years, this corner of northwest London…was known as the 33rd county of Ireland, such was the size of its Irish community. At one point in the 1950s and ’60s, it felt like “17 out of every 18 people” in the area were Irish, as one Irish Times article put it. To this day, it still has the largest Irish community in London.” [Andrew Kersley, The Londoner, April 19/25]

They came as laborers and developed a close-knit community. There were Irish churches and pubs and butchers and newsagents. And there was music. Not only Irish but, in the seventies, The Who, Black Sabbath, David Bowie. One man remembers seeing the Pogues in pubs with only fifty or sixty people in them.

But as with many immigrant communities many of the younger generation have moved on and there are now large numbers of Asian, Turkish and Arab people. Though still, it seems, at least three Irish pubs and a newsagent’s carrying several Irish newspapers - and somebody must be reading them.

So today we follow Kilburn High Road down to the Old Bell. There’s been a pub by that name on this spot for centuries. Pretty close to the location of the original Kilburn well. This iteration dates from 1863 as its predecessor was demolished and rebuilt. We have had a pint here in the past - long before we knew its history - but don’t today. We have, appropriately, Guinness waiting at home. And across the road (Belsize Avenue) was once the rest of the priory grounds and the well itself. Now the location of a Franca Manca pizza restaurant it does have a stone plaque identifying it as the site of Kilburn Wells.

HSBC acct notices mine only

Wednesday, October 15/2025

Our semi-annual visit to my old friend Jean who lives in West Harrow, a reasonably short tube ride away from us. Old friend in more than one sense of the word. We must have met in 1965, taking the same university class - Shakespeare? So sixty years ago. And she was ninety last birthday. (And no, I’m not). She’s Canadian but has lived in London for fifty years or more and we always visit in autumn and spring.

The neighbourhood hasn’t changed a lot but there are some innovations. New this year are on-street electric vehicle charging ports. About as convenient and unobtrusive as they come. Fairly impressive.

Jean’s house is terraced and over a hundred years old. Solid brick with a little garden behind with flowers and frequent visiting birds, which she feeds. We share a bottle of wine and crisps and custard tarts as well as lots of reminiscences and information on family and friends. Gone are the days of late night curries and the last train home, but she’s grateful to be in her own home and we’re happy to be able to visit.

Pick up a book at a little free book exchange shelf at the tube station. Author is Swedish and apparently well known and much translated. Haven’t heard of her but couldn’t resist the title: The Little Old Lady Behaving Badly.

Tuesday, October 14/2025

“We’re keeping our doors closed to save money and stay warm” - except we’re not. Used to find it quite shocking that London shops left the door open all winter because it encouraged business and that outweighed any losses from the cost of heating, even with charity shops like the one in the photo. Of course London temperatures are more temperate than many Canadian ones - mid-afternoon ones now about seventeen and we haven’t turned the heat on in the flat. we’re staying in. And winter may see more shop doors closed - already most are. Rising energy prices have been a serious concern here. They’re also almost impossible to compare internationally. As indeed they are across Canada. 

Price comparisons are interesting, though. Other than accommodation, we could live more cheaply in London than in Sioux Lookout, and with a far greater variety of products. But this would not be true in a village in the north of England and we would find life different in Toronto, though it doesn’t tempt us. So we enjoy each place as it is.

Pick up shampoo at the Pound shop. Pound now equal to $1.87 CAD. Not that pound shops sell everything for a pound any more than dollar stores sell everything for a dollar, though the shampoo was a pound. 

Supper is a happy combination of the maqloub that Jenny kindly sent us home with on Sunday and the last of the rotisserie chicken, along with a French Malbec - which is indeed, at £4.69, less than it would be in Canada, despite Brexit. 

Monday, October 13/2025

Could live a lifetime on Kilburn High Road and be supplied with all the necessities of life plus entertainment - and that’s not even counting the vibrant and innovative Kiln Theatre and associated cinema, located just round the corner from us, or the sports pubs. It’s the street theatre tragi-comic at times but never ending.

We go down to the HSBC at the bottom of the road to sort out winter finances - primarily withdrawing more from our account than the cash points seem prepared to dispense and persuading the teller to exchange the tens and twenties that the ATMs deal in for equivalent value in fifties which fit a wallet better. HSBC, like other major banks, has been closing branches - over a hundred in the last two years - and full service branches extremely thin on the ground. An elderly woman in queue ahead of us says that she lives in Golders Green and has a choice of this location or Wembly if she needs to deal with a human banker and both involve long bus rides. 

Pass a young man hoping to provide us with mobile services. Are we local? No. American? No. Ah, Canadian. So is he! Where are we from? J says Sioux Lookout, signalling eye roll from me. Who has heard of Sioux Lookout? Well, apparently this man - his mother once worked there as a relief nurse!

Pavement shopping long gone in many parts of London but alive and well in Kilburn. Easier and usually cheaper to buy basics from soap to biscuits without having to go into a shop. Usually acceptable quality as well. Most things a pound or two and always busy.

J points out that it’s Canadian Thanksgiving. Not much observed here, but a good time, he suggests, to go out for a celebratory meal.

So we head for Roses, conveniently located round the corner. Its busiest times are earlier in the day and it closes at eight but one of its more endearing features is that it clearly serves as a comfortable venue for a number of middle aged and older single men. They’re obviously regulars and usually come in alone. Two might share a table but more often each sits by himself but close enough to engage in bits of conversation with one or more blokes nearby. Can expand to a whole conversation or - without offence - simply be silence punctuated with the odd observation. A warm and undemanding base with well cooked food. In a sense a home.

Sunday, October 12/2025

Summer in London has been as reluctant to give way to autumn as it is in Canada. And the tree outside the window of our flat is still heavily laden with dark red apples, many of which have splatted onto a roof below us. Totally inaccessible by us, and have no way of knowing if they would be good eating apples in any case. Think it must be the same tree we saw in blossom from the window of our previous flat in April.

Up early and out to spend the day with Jenny and Doug in Thames Ditton. Other guests arrive later but this gives us time for a cup of coffee and a quiet chat with Doug first. And a tour of their extremely impressive new campervan. Jenny warns D that I should be given the five minute tour as the full catastrophe can take an hour, but really there is a lot to wax eloquent about. The cooker has two gas burners and an electric one as it’s equipped with both electric and propane power source capacity. And not too intimidatingly big to drive.

Were joined in stages by Doug’s sister Kathleen and her husband Allen as well as by Laura and Emma and their families and Lucinda, a family friend we’ve met before. Fourteen of us in all. And we do more than justice to the meal a lovely spread of Middle Eastern food from a local place. And I realise slightly too late that I should have photographed the table before we began. Including the enormous maqluba that Jenny has made, a dish that her Palestinian born late father taught me how to make.

As always, talk so long and happily we barely catch the 19:37 train which we know will, unlike VIA, not be as much as a minute late.

Saturday, October 11/2025

 March in support of Palestinians in central London today. Wildly different estimates as to the number of demonstrators, as is usual. Organisers claiming 500,000 or more while it is said police estimate thirty to forty thousand. Would think that likely to be low and the Met do have some history of minimising crowd size in political demonstrations (footnotes available on request). Though of course organisers have reason to wish to inflate numbers. We arrive early, having skipped the march proper and headed for the finish spot on Whitehall near 10 Downing Street where the speeches are meant to be.

Speeches should begin at two and at first the main body of the demo has not yet arrived and there is a relaxed almost country fair feeling, with music, and Palestinian food and clothing and pins on sale and people staking out seating on convenient curbs. By two-thirty the marchers begin arriving - and arriving and arriving. The crowd is dense but harmonious. The audio system pretty unclear but the people friendly and co-operative. Not quite cheerful. Everyone well aware that while there is a peace agreement to be celebrated there have been  cease fires before. And there are many thousands of dead Palestinian children. And families and homes destroyed. And more bodies waiting beneath the rubble. There have been civilians killed by the IDF since the ceasefire. Not bombed but targeted. There is hope here but not joy. And there is a profound need to make clear that ordinary people will not accept a resumption of the genocide.

By three the speeches are over. Jeremy Corbyn, Zarah Sultana and others. It’s actually so tightly packed that it’s difficult to leave but we start to thread our way slowly toward Trafalgar Square.

But more music with drums and tambourines - and we suddenly realise that not only is it  not over but marchers are still steadily arriving. And they keep coming until four o’clock.

And they’re from everywhere. Banners proclaiming their identities, their boroughs and villages and universities. Their trade unions and professions, their nationality. One man is wearing a kilt. There are families and there are dogs. And there is no possibility that the prime minister - who is almost certainly not home - or politicians here or abroad - 

will suppose that this is of concern only to Palestinians or only to Muslims. That no one else recognises genocide and no one else cares.

Friday, October 10/2025

Autumn 2025. Began our retirement travels twenty-five years and a slightly smaller font ago. Not all equipment quite as originally issued and somewhat less inclined to stay at youth hostels (which never did stress the youth bit and where we were never the oldest guests). 

Much more highly digital than in the early days. We used to book the train online - since even in the days when the Sioux Lookout station still admitted to being a station and not a request stop you couldn’t actually do stationy things like buy tickets there, though you could use the loo. But until a couple of years ago the stewards would eyeball the assorted bodies in the day coach and, following an educated guess, cross your name off a typed list. Followed in the last year or two by scanning the QR codes on downloaded boarding passes after everyone was settled. This year a first - polite request for the digital boarding passes before climbing aboard. Leaving me turning on my phone and searching for the rarely used digital wallet. Fortunately no queue behind us. The nice young man says that actually he doesn’t need to see our boarding passes; just ID that matches the purchased tickets on record, as they need better security these days. So passports displayed and we’re on. Though hard not to think that if one were entering a career as a terrorist one might prefer to adopt means of transportation that did not frequently run several hours late.

Though in fact we arrive early. And spend a day with family before heading off to the airport. Only a minor glitch. Electronic visa waiver, known as ETA, now required for entry to UK. Costs £10, lasts for two years, and is not intended to be accompanied by any paperwork or passport stamps as it is by some digital magic scannable in your passport. Which it is, in the UK at least and presumably in Istanbul where it has performed its duties earlier this year. But not it seems by Air Canada. Do we have any written proof? We provide screenshots of UK government emails from last March confirming our ETA approvals, prudently scanned last night, and discreetly do not call the nice man’s attention to the last line, which reads “You do not need to print or show this confirmation email”. Only in Canada.

So Winnipeg to Toronto followed by the midnight flight to London. Meal offering significantly worse than usual, but in compensation the French red wine now available free on both domestic and international flights perfectly drinkable.

And noon arrival cunningly planned so that with a bit of dallying we will reach our Airbnb at check in time. Though somewhat harder to dally now that entering the UK has become so much faster with digitalisation. Passport and ETA scan instantly. As previously.

Airbnb the same building we stayed in last April. Different flat with somewhat inferior layout - but greatly superior WiFi. Fair trade.

So spend Friday leaving for Kilburn High Road when hunger dictates. And delighting again in one of our favourite roads, vibrant with people, street corner vegetable markets, charity shops, cafés, and hundreds of people. And home with the basics plus a rotisserie chicken from the Arab shop and a bottle of Malbec. Good beginning.