Death in Paradise: one for those who are not afraid of something different

Two nights ago I watched - on my laptop, in the caravan - the last episode of Series 14 of Death in Paradise. It's the one in which the 'new' detective played by Don Gilet (a football-loving Londoner who for most of Series 14 has wanted to get home again) finally discovers an over-riding personal reason to stay. It's also the one in which the close-to-retirement Commissioner (played from the very beginning by Don Warrington) decides not to accept the offer of his job back after it was snatched away in a cost-cutting exercise. In both cases, the course taken is difficult, but potentially cathartic. And I for one want to see what happens in Series 15.

This is a show that (like Vera) I first watched during the coronavirus lockdowns five years ago. I was quickly hooked by the premise: the fish-out-of-water British detective suddenly plunged into a Caribbean murder investigation, and proving himself to the local force (and the formidable Commissioner). Always a British detective with an unusual personality. And the crimes also unusual, generally oddball, always baffling, and yet happening in an idyllic location - not what one expects. It has worked. And I have always found Death in Paradise well worth watching, a series to look forward to. 

Yes, the main plots seem to proceed according to a formula. You know almost to the minute when the British detective will have his moment of brilliant insight, and announce that he has the answer. I don't mind that. The solution is always intriguing, and often completely unguessable. But there are also ongoing subplots connected to the other characters, that go forward from episode to episode, and indeed series to series. These deal with the personal circumstances and development of the local officers, and to my mind supply as much interest as solving the crime. Then there is the exotic backdrop, the lush island St Marie (in real life, Guadaloupe). And in every episode, insofar as they serve the plot, glimpses of ordinary life and ordinary people on the island. 

How authentic is all this? It's hard to tell. I have never been to a Caribbean island. I'm sure the location shots are genuine enough and need little embellishment. But I can't say how real the overall picture is. So long as I treat it all as entertainment, the question of absolute authenticity may not matter too much. But I do have a yardstick for these things. The offshoot show, Beyond Paradise, has Looe in Cornwall as its Honoré, and I know Looe and its surrounding area pretty well. So I can judge somewhat.

One thing that had however become questionable about Death in Paradise was the notion of a foreign police detective officer being parachuted in. Was there no closer talent, perhaps in Jamaica? It looked uncomfortably 'colonial'. The new detective was always white, always male. Did Britain have no other kind of officer to fly out? And why always so quirky? 

Of course, the incongruous and eccentric British officer went with the premise; and there were obvious story-lines to be exploited. The officer would find himself missing his old life, but eventually liking the new, and possibly becoming romantically attached to a local (Caribbean) girl. All good stuff. But it was pleasing to see that, from the beginning, the local Caribbean personnel were not treated merely as colourful extras. Their own histories, problems, emotions and romances were revealed. Gradually, series by series, the local staff and certain other local characters became as important to the life of the show as the British detective. 

So I was pleased to see a logical development in Series 14: the detective, now played by Don Gilet, was black. Aha! For the first time the entire police department at Honoré was ethnically the same, for it turned out that the character Don Gilet was playing originated from St Marie (his murdered Mum lived there). We also found out as a cliff-hanger that he had a brother on another island, whom he will no doubt meet in Series 15. So he was in the strange position of a person hitherto alone in the world, now discovering a close relative he had never before heard of. How will that pan out? 

Standing back a bit, though, it struck me that I couldn't think of another keenly-watched primetime TV drama that featured an entirely 'Caribbean' cast. This is one of Series 14's achievements. No white face in sight, apart from the tourists. This is amazing, something to celebrate. And not just if you happen to be black. The show will resonate with any person who feels different, is in a minority of any kind, or whose life is even slightly at odds with what it means to be conventionally British. Which includes me: my life is different, and not at all conventional. And I assert my intention to remain that way. 

If you would like to give me feedback on this post, or make an enquiry, please email me from my Blog Profile.

I wonder if I could have your personal point of view?

Have you ever been stopped in the street by someone with a microphone, and asked to give your point of view on something topical? 

It's happened to me only once. It was in August 2016. I was at Bridgnorth, in the West Midlands. A man from the local radio station, with a microphone and some kind of professional-looking recording apparatus slung over his shoulder, was strolling along the High Street, clearly looking for people to interview. I thought about avoiding him, and walking the other way: I wasn't eager for stardom. On the other hand it was an intriguing situation. Suppose he accosted me and gave me the opportunity to speak? Would I be equal to it? Would I be able to assume a confident air, and discourse eloquently on some important issue of the day? It would certainly be a novel experience. In fact a test of coolness and quick thinking. But I wasn't sure. 

Fate intervened before I could escape. No doubt it was inevitable. Perhaps I looked exactly the right kind of educated person who could string a few words together. And if I only spouted incoherent tosh, he'd still be able to edit out anything that made no sense. It would be all right. At any rate, I was accosted. I prepared to be the ideal interviewee, a lively, good-value Person In The Street, well worth his time.  

But he totally threw me. He wanted to know what I thought about the Olympic Games then going on at Rio in Brazil.  

Poor man: of all the persons he could have stopped and interviewed, it had to be someone who took no interest whatever in sport. No, I hadn't watched any of the Games. No, I didn't know the name of any competitors, nor how they had fared. No, I couldn't care less who had won, nor what the tally of medals was. Really, I had no opinion at all about the Games. 

He saw he had made a mistake about me, but he persevered. Did I think the Games were an inspiration to young people? Yes, I supposed I did; but I couldn't go on to say why or how. Did I think it would be a matter for great national pride? I supposed so, if the British Team did well. What might it mean for the West Midlands, and Bridgnorth in particular? I couldn't say - I was here on holiday. I had no local or regional standpoint.

He couldn't get blood out of a stone, so we left it there. I was quite certain that my few words would be wiped. I didn't mind that. But as I walked away, I found I did mind his thinking that I was an idiot, oblivious to world events and current affairs - emphatically not true - or that I was snobbish or superior about the Games and what they meant. I almost blushed with shame for my indifference, for I was certain he'd have judged me to my detriment.

That feeling soon passed, obliterated by the excitement of riding down Bridgnorth's cliff lift, and then photographing from an overbridge the spectacular steamy happenings at the Severn Valley Railway's Bridgnorth station. 

But later on, I pondered what had happened. I felt a dim sense of injustice. Why should anyone pay the Olympic Games - or any other sporting event - any special attention? Did we - or specifically myself - owe the athletes anything? No. I hoped they did well for themselves, and fulfilled personal ambitions, but that was all. Was I being unpatriotic? No; not when I felt that the Games - and international sport generally, football especially - was dishonestly conducted, far too political, and a waste of national money and resources. 

My one and only radio interview, a failure, left no lasting legacy except to make me very wary of ever doing the same thing again. It's much too easy to seem foolish or ignorant when speaking on the fly. And nowadays there is the added risk that someone will find one's stumbling words objectionable, with dire trouble ensuing. No thanks.

If you would like to give me feedback on this post, or make an enquiry, please email me from my Blog Profile.

Custard pies and days out in Calais without a passport

Only one post in February! I have to go back to April 2009 to find a month in which I wrote so little. The constant happenings in America have distracted me. 

King Donald has been chipping away at normality every day. Clearly a man in a hurry to make big changes while he can. And all suavity and pretence have now been discarded. I was appalled to see President Zelensky spoken to so cruelly, and then hustled out of the White House, probably never to return. This very public humiliation of a visiting head of state may well show how all other leaders will be dealt with in future. Sir Keir Starmer - whom I think is proving more capable at foreign diplomacy that I'd have believed a year ago - had better expect to hear some blunt words when - or if - he next meets King Donald. Actually, such a meeting may be left to Mr Vance, who shows a clear talent for calculated viciousness and diversion from the expected agenda.

Should the state visit (King Donald meeting our King Charles) go ahead? Actually, yes: it will be interesting to see how a pretend King copes with a real one. He is bound to trip up on protocol. Besides, in the name of honesty and free expression, I'd like to see several well-timed Hollywood-style custard pies hitting King Donald in the face. It would make 'great television', and I fully expect King Donald to laugh heartily at the joke. The throwers should, of course, get either diplomatic immunity or a Royal Pardon. 

The world is realigning. I expect to hear soon that there is to be a European Alliance to succeed NATO, composed of the UK, the EU, and all other like-minded states in what is geographically Europe. It won't include America or Russia, simply because they are not 'in Europe'. To facilitate this new Alliance, and fund its own destiny, Europe will have to integrate. I think that, for Britain, this will undo much of what Brexit achieved (if it did in fact achieve anything). Back in 2016, I voted enthusiastically for Brexit, on the sole point of having our own sovereignty and the ability to go our own way. But things have now changed, and I would feel happier and safer living in something like a United States of Europe. Naturally I want Britain to be a key player in that entity. It's a second-best for 'independent sovereignty' but a chance to re-connect with the continent and get necessary things done. 

If you would like to give me feedback on this post, or make an enquiry, please email me from my Blog Profile.

Four ways to fail

I'm following the first weeks of President Trump's reign as the new King of America with keen interest. It's so dismaying. And I'm puzzled how, given that the US Constitution is supposed to have 'checks and balances', he can do what he does. It looks so very much like the exercise of arbitrary and unrestrained power. You know, how a real dictator would behave (and there are plenty of those around the world, prominent or petty, who can serve as role models). 

I hear that half of America - the sensible, responsible half - is groaning at President Trump's media posts and his public posturing, if not actually beside themselves with concern that he will ruin the country (and the whole world) with his policies. I always had a personal prejudice against anybody who wears baseball caps: such a bad sign. How right that instinct was. President Trump is blatantly and crudely pandering to his home supporters: badly-educated misogynistic rednecks, the gun-obsessed, the bible bigots, and all those millions who wallow in selfish self-interest in El Dollarado. It doesn't seem to matter that a misbehaving and fast-imploding America, once the Bastion of Democracy, is becoming a land at odds with itself. What a delightful thing this must be for rival superpowers to see. 

It was a mistake to rename the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of America. Will the Atlantic be renamed the 'American Ocean'. No, of course not. The Pacific Ocean will get that name.

How can all this win global appreciation and respect? How can America become 'Great Again' by sneering at its own allies, and making existential threats against various territories? It will only make America a country to be wary of, and soon a country to avoid.     

Politics is a serious business, and not for amateurs, whatever their experience as deal-makers in real estate. It needs an unusual kind of person, not like you or me. A person who combines principle, vision, deep knowledge, wisdom, foresight, subtlety, stamina and personal appeal. I exclude ambition, and a hunger for power and prestige, from my list of essential qualities, although sadly these baser propellants usually go with the finer attributes.  

Where will it end? President Trump faces four likely outcomes. 

First, he will succumb to old age. He'll soon be eighty. Then it will be 'Sleepy Donald'. There will be calls for him to retire to Mar-O-Lago. He may indeed run out of steam, make slips, and lose his grip. Then the sharks - the younger aspirants in the Republican Party - will have a feeding-frenzy. In the first instance, the replacement has to be the current Vice-President, Mr J D Vance. But Mr Vance has stiff competition, who will try to shoulder him aside. Whoever eventually grabs the reins of power in the 2028 elections, he will ensure that Former President Trump's legacy is trashed in favour of his own.

Second, the cuckoo in the nest - Elon Musk - will nudge him out. Mr Musk is a self-obsessed amoral man of no conscience and crazy ambition. But he is much younger, and even richer, and if anyone has to choose between the two of them, Mr Musk is superficially the more attractive choice. He's unelected? Tush. A mere detail. 

Third, President Trump will over-reach himself and get ensnared in a constitutional net, an outcome especially likely if the US Supreme Court, despite being composed of mostly his own appointees, turns against him. Senior judges have a habit of regarding themselves as jealous and independent guardians of legal principle, and even Republican-minded judges have red lines. President Trump could well find himself impeached and pulled down. Nobody has forgotten Richard Nixon.

Fourth, President Trump may fall victim to another - and this time successful - assassination attempt. America has a disturbing history of political assassinations. Personally, I hope it doesn't happen, as making him St Donald the Martyr would be no solution. 

How soon? President Trump looks vigorous enough for now, but it won't last. As time goes by the chances of his making some calamatous error of judgement will increase. If he can bring himself to do it, it would make sense to bow out while riding high. But this is a wayward man who does the unexpected, and he may hang on well beyond his sell-by date, convinced that he can still pull off astonishing deals. That won't be good to watch. Perhaps someone can persuade him that heading up (say) PGA Tour would be a more suitable career.

If you would like to give me feedback on this post, or make an enquiry, please email me from my Blog Profile.

Hoods and street photography

I don't like hoods. I don't like the feeling of my face being hemmed in. I especially don't like having only a front-facing view (tunnel-vision so to speak) and not being able to see what is going on - movement at least - to the left and right of me. 

When out and about, good peripheral vision is surely a vital thing to possess, so that one cannot be caught unawares, either by people, traffic or street furniture. Even without a hood, I am constantly looking about and checking where I'm going, and who is on the edge of my eyesight. I can't afford to trip up and fall. Nor do I want to collide with someone and hurt them.

The chances of a mishap seem to have greatly increased in recent years. So many people think they own the pavement or pedestrian area (the concept of 'a pedestrian' must elude them; perhaps it's not taught in schools any more). I'm thinking of kids (or childish adults) on a scooter or bike, or an idiot staring at their phone screen while they walk forwards (effectively deaf as well as blind, because they have their earbuds or headphones in place), or a selfish jogger. But young women with babies in buggies are not always blameless. A too-close encounter with any of these could be upsetting. And, of course, I would be blamed and badmouthed - even if they walked into me, and I was shaken up or injured. 

I particularly want to avoid anyone intent on street robbery or some other harm; beggars as well. 

So I need to have 180-degree vision. And that rules out a deep hood. 

There's also something else. I want people to see my face. I don't want to hide. I think I am far likelier to be treated as a human being if I'm not buried in the shadow of a hood. 

So I'm really happy with hats as an alternative. They give presence, and add height. I walk taller and more confidently in a hat, especially my very latest, but I have others. A good chin-strap stops the hat blowing off in the wind. Combined with a turned-up coat collar, a hat confers the same feeling of warmth and protection from the elements as a hood provides. Furthermore, a hat provides the same psychological benefit as a hood - by which I mean the comforting sensation of having a roof over one's head. 

But a hat doesn't shut the world out. I've long suspected that many people you see around in hoods are rather wobbly about contact with strangers. They might even be afraid of meeting anybody but their similarly-hooded friends. I think that's so sad. 

Then of course there are furtive hood-wearers of the criminal kind who need to keep their faces hidden. They are the ones who give hoods a really bad name. 

Mind you, in a cold arctic gale, none of the above applies. The weather determines what to wear: hoods are going to be necessary if out in driving snow. 

Getting back to what I said above, about staying alert to whatever is happening around one and not relying on only a narrow forward view, I consider this should apply in particular to street photography. People (not necessarily the subject) do sometimes get seriously annoyed when a person with a camera is snatching pictures. They may object sufficiently to harass the photographer, and one needs to see that coming. Then again, most modern cameras likely to be used for quick in-and-out street photography will cost a lot, and are worth stealing. One needs to spot potential muggers before they close in. This is not so much about wearing hoods as squinting into a viewfinder, with the other eye idle or closed. That effectively renders the photographer blind while taking the shot. Most unwise. Especially unwise for a woman. The better alternative is to use the camera's rear monitor at waist level, or even a film TLR (these are starting to reappear in shops). 

It helps if one can look 'official'. A student getting material for a project probably has a licence to grab shots that others wouldn't get away with. So might an obvious professional of some kind. I personally wouldn't indulge in anything fraudulent, but - this is tongue-in-cheek - wearing a hat with a card stuck in the band above the brim with 'PRESS' typed on it, might be a plan!

If you would like to give me feedback on this post, or make an enquiry, please email me from my Blog Profile.

I'm on Wikipedia!

Any search on Google or elsewhere using my name will throw up numerous hits - my Blog and my Flickr photos of course, but also some other references and credits. I suppose that will be true for anyone who has been active on the Internet for a while - and I started the Blog, and joined Flickr, way back in February 2009, sixteen years ago. So it's scarcely any surprise that a search for me will produce so much, even though I'm certainly not famous, and have never been in the news. 

But one thing eluded me, something I rather wanted. That's a mention in Wikipedia, the online encyclopaedia. I'd never expect a full article devoted to - say - my miraculous birth and extraordinary upbringing, my exciting career, and my adventurous retirement. No; something much more modest would do, so long as I was cited as a serious source on some serious topic.

Now I have been! In fact since 2021. 

Somebody has listed me as an impeccable source of information on the Wester Pipe Railway in Caithness.

Look at this:

OK, it's only a technical article on an oil pipeline assembling facility, but it references one of my Blog posts. A post called The Long Pipe, published on 4 July 2019. You can if interested look it up.

I might add that I went back in September 2022 for another look at this pipeline railway, which runs into the sea south of Keiss. It wasn't active at that time, and seemed to be mostly mothballed, although some kind of work was going on to renew the supports for the double-track underneath the road bridge on the A99. A few pictures will reveal the state of play in autumn 2022.

The plaque on the road bridge had been refreshed.

And (taken from official articles and pamphlets) these pictures show what happens at the sea end of the railway, when the line is active. 

No doubt that huge towhead, when not drawing a length of pipeline into the sea here, is put to work elsewhere in the world.

Well, there you are. Fame at last. (Though as we all know, fame costs...) I'm up in the area in late May. I will definitely return to see what's happening then. Did you know that I possess a yellow hard hat? I'll take it on holiday, just in case the guys invite me to look at the fabrication yards at either end. Now that would be a memorable experience!

If you would like to give me feedback on this post, or make an enquiry, please email me from my Blog Profile.