There has been a lot of discussion on the blog about where might be a good place to retreat to if the future becomes as bleak as it appears at this time. Who knows what other horrors may be in store?
Losing the WFA is one thing, but I am wondering if at some point we will lose or have a reduced state pension. We could end up with a barter economy. But where to escape to?
I have seen a lot of the world but not the US, the Scandinavian and Baltic States save a brief trip to Sweden, nor Greece or South America ( except Guyana).
I would exclude any moslem countries I have visited or lived in – sorry, – Aden, Bahrain, Libya, Jordan, Tunisia, Turkey.
Australia would be out as they seem to have become Mr Wokest of Wokedom, New Zealand appeals but I think they have been infected by Australia.
We were in Brisbane to work up the 8th Battalion of the Royal Australian Regiment for Vietnam – forget the Crocodile Dundee crap – we out drank them, out marched them, played them off the pitch at football and ran them ragged on the training area at Rockhampton after a 500 mile train trip. I carried a signaller’s rifle for him for several days as he was struggling to tote that as well as his radio set.
The Seekers hit Morningtown Ride stays in my memory, together with the barbecued oysters and ration pack apricot jam which seemed to be a staple of the military ration pack.
My French is good and with a few years of school Latin and Spanish I tend to read Italian and Spanish quite well. Speaka da lingo though is a bit harder..
I have heard good things of Hungary and other Eastern European States but it is acknowledged that the language is a barrier. Croatia gets some good write-ups, two of my daughters have holidayed there.
I then come to a list of countries I have visited/lived in and would contemplate as a bolt hole. France is one such and I am considering returning there.
Others are Kenya, Sri Lanka. Cyprus, Malaya, Malta, Singapore, Thailand and Guyana. A number of these are familiar with the English language.
We were in British Guiana (as was) in 1965 on an emergency tour for a few months pre-Independence; there to discourage the opposing factions from chopping bits off each other.
As young, fit, lusty chaps we had the time of our lives. With reggae music, dancing, attractive ladies, cheap rum and plenty of free time we had a ball. ‘Wings of a dove’ by Prince Buster anyone?
I must confess I was unable to face rum for fourteen years after that tour. Happy days!
That may colour my perception but, if I had the opportunity ,I think I would plump for there. Great climate, old fashioned feel. lovely people and a slow pace of life – super, and, as a bonus The Tottenham Turnip hails from there!
60 years later it may well be different; but the whole atmosphere was one of gentle, engaging people who got on with their lives without fuss, an atmosphere of peace and continuity.
An alternative would be Cyprus, loved the place and we seemed to have marched over the most part of it. It was there, in a bar in Famagusta that we learned of the assassination of JFK. The locals were jubilant.
So, for me 1. France. 2.Guyana., 3, Cyprus, 4. Sri Lanka…..
Where would you go?
Walking under the oak trees tonight and seeing the fallen acorns brought to mind thoughts of yesteryear. Hollowing out acorns, inserting a straw, collecting dog ends from the gutter and smoking the shreds of tobacco.
In 1956 the Soviet Warship Ordzhonikidze visited Portsmouth. I remember sitting in the front row of the local cinema smoking Sobranie cigarettes we had bummed off the soviet sailors, Coughing and spluttering like a good ‘un.
Remember when is a good game to play:
Remember when we walked everywhere, remember when we spent the day out in the open air having fun, making shelters, exploring the countryside, only coming home at tea-time, no thought then of perverts?
Remember when one of us paid for a cinema ticket and opened the fire door to let the rest in?
Remember when we pinched the pop bottles out of the shop back yard and took them inside to claim a penny on the return?
Remember when we discovered that the washers strewn in the BT yard fitted the 2p machines on Clarence Pier?
Remember when we could not make sense of the injunction ‘Please adjust your dress before leaving’ at the public toilets adjacent to the pier?
Remember when those of us in the scouts carried a sheath knife on our belts most of the time?
Remember when the Summers were full of sun …………..
© Gillygangle 2024
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