Getting Gone!

The hardest thing about travel is leaving the cat. Now, I do have an outstanding cat care person, a woman who works at my vet’s, but it doesn’t make it easier. Once I start to pack up, Tiffany sits on the duffel and howls. She knows! The care person assures me Tiff is very good with their routine when I’m gone. But until I walk out the door - when Tiff is lying on her chair with one eye open - I get a bad time.

Also, when I return: I am ignored, totally ignored, until Tiff gets hungry enough to ask for food. Which has some advantages, for I can empty the duffel‘s contents into the wash, look at the mail and brush my teeth before I have to deal with her. She should be used to all this for in the three places she’s lived with me, travel has been the constant.

Packing is the other chore. Since I take only a carry on sized duffel, choices are limited. After two bummers with checked luggage some years back, I’ve used carry ons only, even before airlines started charging for checked luggage. Toiletries I replenish after each trip, so they are not a problem. Copies of my passport and driver’s license reside in the duffel along with travel clock, extra batteries and the like.

So it’s roll up several pairs of pants, throw in the t-shirts, figure out the quick dry underwear, and add a pair of sandals. Some times, I have to think about which items to pack but mostly it’s the same things - or whatever old stuff I can leave. And wear the walking shoes, sweater, jacket, hoodie and/or rain gear I’ll need. I seem to take about the same amount of stuff, whether I’m going to city or countryside, gone for a week or a month.

I have traveled in the States, Canada and overseas for over twenty-five years. No longer hampered with a Day Job, I’m now gone about a third of the time. From two to six weeks. For the cat’s sake, I try to stick to three weeks but I’m not always successful. And I tend to travel on the cheap, often with small, budget priced British or Australian groups. Many American groups charge more than I’m prepared to pay, use upscale accommodations beyond what I need and/or stay close to conventional itineraries. The Brits and the Aussies tend to wing it, much as I do when on my own.

Choosing destinations isn’t a problem. I have a long list but, fortunately or unfortunately, I don’t always get to new places. I keep returning for further exploration. This year I returned to the UK - probably my 20th trip there - and Ethiopia - I had been in the North, to the so called Historical Circuit, but wanted to get into the tribal lands of the South; I will be back in Jordan in a couple of days for an archeological dig related to TE Lawrence and WW1’s Arab Revolt.

But Yemen and Afghanistan were new to me. And come December, a hike into Mali, where the Turang and Timbuktu should be eye openers. So three new and three old add to six extraordinary trips for 2008.

Fourteen crashes later!

Last year, at birthday time, I was in Namibia and celebrated with a sky dive. This year, I am home in Northern California. As birthday time approached, I received a notice about twelve hours of simulator flight training at the Hiller Museum at San Carlos Airport. At the same time, I got a discount coupon for a flying lesson at the Palo Alto Airport. Aha! Possibilities!

You must understand that in my salad days, my goal had been to fly, travel and write. During my freshman year in college, I blew tuition money on several flying lessons, stopping when I realized I couldn’t afford both flying and college. For better or worse, my father’s common won out and I went on to collect the Bachelor’s degree.

(And then became interested in sports cars, but that’s another story!)

So I signed up for both the simulator classes and the flying lesson. The simulator classes were three hours over a four week period. Besides me, there was a mother-son and a father-son combination. I have the feeling that the kids - and likely the parents - were brought up on computers, computer games and simulators. They got the picture from ground-zero. They were taking off and landing the virtual Cessna during the first session.

Me? I was busy over compensating. My niece, herself a pilot, warmed me that there was lag time with the simulator which could throw you off. and even knowing that, I was stalling and spinning - great air show tricks maybe, except I kept crashing. The only thing I really learned from the session was how to get the simulator back in position. Between JFK and SFO, I managed some thirteen crashes in my attempts to land.

My niece now started calling me “Crash”!

The second session wasn’t much better. The other four took off nicely from SFO and San Carlos. Not me! First, I couldn’t reach the rudder pedals, much less the brakes. Skidded out on the floor in my secretarial chair. I don’t know how one kid did it for he was considerably shorter than me, but he did. In fact, he came over and looked at what I was (or wasn’t) doing and shook his head in disgust. There is nothing like pre teen disgust! At best, I was swirling all about the airport runways. Crashed on takeoff. So I decided to just fly around. The rest were working on instrument flying and planning trips from one airport to another. I was certainly far from that and after two hours, picked up my toys and went home.

The third session was a total wipe out: I forgot my reading glasses so was unable to focus on anything. - nada - nothing. Without glasses, I am desperately near sighted. With my regular glasses, I am comfortably far sighted. Since I have avoided bifocals, I was S.O.L. I left!

I did attend the fourth and last simulator session, well behind the herd. They were planning cross country flights. My cross country flight was from San Carlos to Santa Rosa, which I managed, but just barely. Then someone got the bright idea to put me in Piper Cub, which was the airplane I had flown sixty years ago. Viola! No complications. I was able to stay reasonably steady, fly out of the Kabul airport, head out to Bagram Air Field, check out the Panjsher Valley and ease over to the Salang Pass. Had I realized it, I could have cut a flight plan to Teheran. A fitting conclusion. And I was issued a certificate, for whatever that’s worth.

Next, Halloween and the realtime flight lesson - back in a Cessna, but older with a less complicated dashboard than the simulated one. Walked around and checked out the aircraft before the interior check. Climbed up on the wings to make sure we were sufficiently gassed. And then took off from the Palo Alto airport. Cloudy day with some active air pockets, which made it interesting. Got to fly some, bank and yaw, battle the currents and fight the sun in my eyes. Flew about the southern Bay area and certainly did better than on the simulator’s Cessna. Like, I didn’t crash or stall or spin. All together, two hours well spent. And I now have a Pilot’s flight log book.

I may do this again, the flying that is. Not the simulator - think I got everything I could from that. But I will have to get bifocals.

Weekend at Oxford - Sep 2008

It was to be 10 days: a weekend for the TE Lawrence symposium and five days survival training at Heckfield. Only Heckfield was canceled - long story - and is now rescheduled for a session in Virginia late January; so more on that next year.

But the long weekend at Oxford was well worth the long trip over. I stayed in rooms at St. John’s College where AE Housman and Robert Graves had been, saw the West End musical Seven brides for Seven Brothers (good, though I did miss Howard Keel), traveled to Dorset to TE Lawrence haunts, and then had two days of talks about TE Lawrence, then and now. About one hundred fifty attended, a surprisingly number from the US and Canada. Interesting bunch.

Got into Heathrow early afternoon Thursday September 24 and promptly caught the airport bus for Oxford which took little over an hour. The bus station was close to the campus, so walked over and registered. Then picked up a ticket for the evening performance and had supper. Performance was good and the audience was an enthusiastic bunch of the gray haired set. Nice choreography though not up to Michael Kidd’s - since seeing this, I checked out some of his work in the film on You-tube.

My room was large, really large, but with a small single bed tucked in one corner. I had a sink and counter, small portable refrigerator, chairs, desk and book cases. Facilities? The toilet was across the hall and the shower upstairs. With the room went access to the computer lab and the bar - yes, St. John’s has it own pub. Lovely old college with magnificent spires.

Friday was spent with forty others, traveling to Dorset. First, to the Bovington Tank Museum. TE had spent two years there as a ranker before getting back into the RAF, all following his Lawrence of Arabia exploits. There were some memorabilia but I was impressed with the tanks: WW1 and WW2 vintage with various armed cars including the WW1 Rolls used in the desert. Tanks are big suckers!

From there, it was a short journey to Clouds Hill TE’s garden cottage: small, basic and charming. Two Broughs (the motor bike used by TE) were parked there; one may have been an old one of Lawrence’s. The bikers in our group - and there were some - were impressed. I had my picture taken astride one. It was a moving experience, the thought of walking about where TE had been.

From there to Moreton to the local church and TE’s grave and finally, to Wareham where the Kennington Effigy is housed in the ancient Saxon Church of St. Martin-on-the-Walls. It was a full day and a great prologue to the two days of talks.

There were eight presentations, some outstanding. I had been enticed to this gathering by two speakers: Neil Faulkner who was the co-director of the November archaeological dig I had volunteered for, and James Barr, author of a recent book on TEL and the Brits during WW1. They both lived up to expectations and I had a chance to talk with them during the weekend, at length with Dr. Faulkner at the college pub.

Faulkner talked about Lawrence’s precepts of guerrilla warfare and the impact the Arab Revolt had on the desert campaigns during WW1. The Great Arab Revolt Project is an archaeological effort that, so far, supports the military importance of the Arab efforts. Barr talked about TEL and his influence/relationship with the French and its impact on Middle Eastern history.

The other presentations ranged from Lawrence’s relationships with various friends, publishers and writers; his love of the Brough bikes with a hypothesis about the final fatal crash; the Metcalf collection, and a discussion of the Imperial Camel Corps - the later was one of the more interesting reports.

People in attendance were varied: several had been at the Huntington Library gathering last year - I had attended and. surprisingly, was recognized by several. One man was from Georgia, had been a Chief Probation Officer and was into motor bikes, really into them owning six and restoring others that he sold at swap meets. Another rather dapper man, small boned and an inch or so taller than me, dressed in shirt, tie, brown suit and vest, shave d head and with Kaiser Wilhelm waxed mustache, was in the Security business, spending most of his time in the Emirates.

There were two retired servicemen: one with twenty years in the Engineers, twenty with a private firm and now considering his third life - he was also a diver who had a home near the Red Sea in Egypt and gave me good information about arranging a trip to St. Catherine’s. The other had just retired after 26 years as a Warrant Office in the Navy and was interested in museum work. Then there were the two men in their late seventies, one living in Seattle and the other still in the UK, who met sixty years ago in Germany while in the service; they have continued their friendship and meet yearly.

Coming home was a delight! I was upgraded from mid-middle back of the aircraft to business class! All because I had asked to be switched to an aisle seat. Turned out it was easier to switch me up front.

Glad I went, even for just the weekend. Next time, will add on a couple of days to bum about Oxford and take the Morse tour.

Ethiopia trip #2: August 2008 in Rifts & Omo Valleys

I just read my report on last year’s February trip to Northern Ethiopia, which concluded with  my intent to return, to travel in the Afar-Dankalia region down to the ancient Muslim town of Harar and  to explore the Rift and Omo Valleys.   This was the Rift and Omo Valleys  trip, two weeks into Southern Ethiopia..  

And like the first trip it was a substitution, this time for a camel trek into Kenya’s Rift Valley,  canceled for lack of attendance.  This tour was available and fairly high up on my list of future travels.  So I packed up the duffel and away I went, yet again!

It started, as everything does in Ethiopia, in Addis Ababa, a sprawling combination of old and new.  I joined the group a bit late in the first day, following their exploration of the city which featured  the Ethnological Museum  - been there,  done that, on my first trip, so didn’t feel deprived.

Now the North is a rather organized third world area, with towns and hotels and churches.  Oh yes, churches for it is very Orthodox Christian what with the Ark of the Covenant and the Queen of Sheba.   The South is rural, tribal country with few amenities for Westerners. While the Cross was worn and replicas were sold at market, Muslims and animists prevail in much of the area.  The South is totally different from the North,  distinctly different , a very African place.   

From Addis, we drove, the nine of us plus tour leader and drivers, in three well used Land Cruisers - as I’ve commented before, I’d love to have the Toyota agency for Africa and/or  the Middle East; I’d never want in this or any other life again!   We traveled near lakes, through National parks, into Mountains and valleys on roads ranging from passable to impossible.  And good or bad, everyone and everything used the roads.  Trucks to donkey carts; motorcycles to pedestrians, cows to goats.  

The landscape varied: there was  lush tropical greenery, dry dusty flat land, mountain and lake.  Per Lonely Planet, the southwest Omo region has been called “Africa's last great wilderness”.  We saw hippos and crocs, zebras and kudu, monkeys and baboons.  We went to tribal compounds of the Mursi, Hammer and Konsos.  We wandered in three various markets, including one where police and army patrolled because of ongoing tribal differences.  And when there are tribal differences, contemporary weapons have entered the cultures.  Guns were evident along with spears and  colorful tribal clothing - or lack of it.  

We were welcomed, either as a curiosity or a source of income - two birr per photo required by the tourist savvy.  Kids would immediately run to take your hand, sometimes to ask for a  pen and most often, just to grin happily at you.  I often felt overwhelmed by the tribal people and would back off while others in our group managed  more gracefully.  One Brit, a primary grade teacher, knew a few basic magic tricks which made him the pied piper of our bunch.

I talked with two teen-aged boys, who attended school in Jinka, the door to the Omo Valley.  They boarded there and were awaiting results of their preparatory school exam.  One hoped to be a teacher while the other, a doctor.  Both wanted to return to their tribe.    One boy  pointed out his younger sister to me but though he wanted to help her, admitted there would be little he could do  for when he returned from his schooling, she would be married and with a family.   Girls simply had little educational opportunities:

Early on, we stopped at the  Black Lion Museum, the Rastafarian community’s headquarters at Shashemene.  The current leader  (they rotate), a rather imposing Jamaican, gave us chapter and verse about the Rastas - he was a good looking mature man with patience for our questions and a nice sense of humor.  

We camped four of our fourteen  nights.  The first night was  near a river, quite basic isolated place though there was a pump for water and a rudimentary toilet of sorts.  The other three nights was at a somewhat more organized campground, with several oil can jerry rigged showers and  basic squat  toilets; there was also a water pump used by campers and locals as well. When we arrived there were nearly two dozen land cruisers about with the campground quite full.  After the first night, the population lessened considerably.
 
Covered space was also  available for cooking: we had picked up a cook  to accompany us throughout the camping experience and he was superb.  Missed him dearly when we returned to local restaurant  meals.  The Ethiopians may have politically  expelled the Italians,  but  the culinary  presence remains for all menus, everywhere,  offered pasta  as an option.
 
It was from the campgrounds, we could travel to some of the less accessible  sites. We  had some contact with about half a dozen different tribes., most  grazing cattle, goats and/sheep.  Body and hair decorations differed from tribe to tribe.  Some wore bits and pieces of Western clothing, some did not.   We lost what few  tourists that had been about;  Italian and French seem to predominate.

As we came  out of the tribal lands, we drove and walked  to the stelae, ancient rock carvings, at Tututi,  Not as spectacular as at Aksum, but still impressive.  There were two areas with columns of differing lengths lying about.  Likely, there were double that still buried.  On the last day on the road, time was spent at  Lake Awassa and the lakeside fish market enroute Addis Ababa.  

Hotels were, with one or two exceptions, rather basic.  In fact, one, St Mary’s at Konso, was god awful; I suspect it hadn’t been cleaned since the Italians had been expelled.  Below basic!  The resort hotel  at Wondo Genet, had allegedly been a stopping place for Haile Selassie in the old days - the grounds were extensive with blue balled monkeys running rampant.  I, and others in the group, did a several hour climb about the area.  Rooms and food were mediocre, however.  

The Addis Ababa accommodation was certainly an upgrade from last year’s accommodation.   The Ghion Hotel had been 5* in its day and was the premier local hotel.  The grounds were extensive and meticulously maintained.  Rooms showed evidence of years of use but were clean - and there was hot water!  I was there three nights: the first night and then two nights at the end of the tour.  I spent that time just wandering around, picking up some gifts for friends and clearing off hundreds of Emails once I found an Internet place.  

Interestingly, the flights and hotels were jam packed full with a combination of students, NGO workers, and adoptive and would-be adoptive parents.  It appears Ethiopia is a mecca for would be adoptive parents, both US and European.

The last night of the tour was at the Crown(?) Hotel’s restaurant which had both band and dancers.  They were quite good and did  various ethnic music and dances. while we had  the Ethiopian nation dish:  injra.  Simply put, this is a large pancake with food place atop it.; you tear off pieces to use in picking up the food.  No knives, no forks!   By the time the night ended, our leader, several of our drivers and others in our group got up to move to the music - including moi!  
   
There were nine in our group: seven Brits, an Irish woman who had been a month in Rwanda prior to this tour, and myself.   Only one came through the trip unscathed:  I badly sprained my wrist the second day, missing a foothold while climbing up  an embankment and the rest had intestinal problems of one kind or another.  Our tour leader was excellent; though from the North, he was familiar with animals, birds, fauna and tribes in the south.  

This was an Exodus tour booked through Adventure  Center in Emeryville (www.adventurecenter.com).  Like most of the others I’ve taken, it is a  eco-conscious, budget priced, small group British tour.  Cost for the tour was $2420 (twin share - I paid an additional $30 to have a tent of my own!), which included all meals.  Airfare, via United to Dulles and Ethiopian to Addis, was $2388. Extra hotel cost was $34.  

Incidentally, I paid 8 birr for the taxi ride from the airport into Addis in a bad, sad cab reeking of gasoline fumes; booked through the hotel, I paid 6 birr for the return ride in a  Benz - not the newest but running perfectly.   Go figure!   

Comment:  Storks and Vultures are some ot the world's the ugliest creatures, more so than crocs!  

Still have the the Afar-Dankalia region and Harar to go!  May combine that with Djibouti and Eritrea, if the Eritrea-Ethiopia border ever opens.  

(NB:  roughly, a birr is a buck!)


 

Ashland and Points North - 2008

It was June and time to get back to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival at Ashland, Oregon.  I finally figured out that I first went in l952 - I used to think it was l954 but looking at old programs:  it was l952.  We, my husband and I, went with Jack Jacobus, who became our housemate.  We all worked at the Oregon State Penitentiary at the time.  I remember seeing the Tempest in the outdoor theatre; I remember the lovely Lithia Park.  

We didn’t get back for maybe, ten years but then started a regular yearly drive - later, to be a flight - to Ashland, missing only a year when I was recovering from surgery and the year before Robin’s death.    So I continue the tradition, flying to Medford and shuttling into Ashland and the Columbia Hotel, an old establishment on the main street, a second story store front place with a Victorian motif and facilities down the hall.  Reasonably priced and more than centrally located.  I’ve stayed there since I’ve been a single.  Have breakfast  outside overlooking the creek at the Greenleaf Cafe.  Walk around in the mornings, f rom town  up into the Park, check my E-mails at the library, look into shops for a guest-gift for my niece and sister in law who I will visit afterwards.  

And go to  the plays - four at OSF and one at the Cabaret theatre.  I also sign on for all the lectures and discussions, whether they apply to plays I’m seeing or  not.  Archie and Mehitabel was at the Cabaret Theatre this year and, along with a fruit and ice cream dessert, was fun.  I saw most unique Indian musical  of sorts Clay Cart,  a wild Midsummer Night’s Dream that did justice to Gay Pride Weekend, a moving Our Town that had me in tearing up at the end and the out of the box Further Adventures of Hedda Gabler.  Hedda Gabler made the least impression on me, for I keep forgetting it.  

Now,, instead of the one outdoor theatre,  they are three working theatres and small ex-theatre used as a lecture/discussion area.  I suspect OSF  is Ashland’s biggest draw , even with the University and Rogue River rafting runs.   Bay area people, like me, dream of moving there.  In fact, enough have so that real estate is comparable with the Bay area.  Expensive!  Still, for several days a year, it  remains a place out of time and, when I was a worker bee, a neededrespite from my stressed  world.  

From there, I did the family bit:  to the Seattle area to visit with my in-laws.  My sister in law and her husband are still managing quite well:  they’re in their eighties; in fact, he may be ninety but still volunteers at the Air Museum.  She is a crafter:  does marvelous quilts.  Their younger daughter is my executor  so we spent time reviewing trusts and the like. Others in the family were  over the Fourth weekend  and then I headed  home.  We enjoy each other for the several day stay which seems  just right.  It’s on the list for next year.  

Along with Mesopotamia, a return to Afghanistan, Palestine/Israel, and Libya if they’ll give me a visa.  The Rift Valley  camel trek is off for both this year and next but I’m signing on to a week long course for survival in hostile environments - looks like I’ll do that in September, consecutive to the TE Lawrence symposium at Oxford.   Expensive but necessary if I’m continuing to go to places with a plethora of old Russian AK-47s  lying about.  

Two - No, Three Stops Up the Track!

It was impulsive.  Walking home from the library, I got talking to a workman who was taking a break in the shade of the park trees.  All enthused, he told me about the Vertical Air Show at the San Carlos Airport the following day, Saturday.  Take the train up and you can walk over from there!  Why not, I thought as I continued my way home; haven’t been to an air show since early salad days and I’ve always meant to stop by the Hiller Air Museum, next to the airport, all located along Freeway 101.  Why not?

I checked the train schedule and figured  I could do my Pilates workout, get the groceries, buy my round trip ticket and make the noon train out of Menlo Park.  Two stops and I’m there - oh, there would be  one at Atherton, which only has weekend stops these days.  All went according to schedule, at least my schedule.  Got to the depot on time but per the notice, the train not only was running ten minutes late but all trains were running on the northbound track.  Working on the southbound track at Atherton.  

Eventually the train arrived, more like twenty minutes late.  However, it whizzed  past Atherton and all the construction work, stopping about half way  before Redwood City.  Whoops, the engineer forgot he was on the weekend schedule and after some thought and calling in with the powers-that-be, the train backed up and picked up the Atherton would-be passengers.  From there we were ok and I got off as planned at San Carlos.  Did my several miles walk over the freeway to the Airport.

My experience with previous air show had been in the Forties when I lived in South Dakota and was determined to be a flyer and was a serious cadet with the Civil Air Patrol.    As I remember, the runway was dirt and  there was a daily Western Airlines flight in from Cheyenne, Wyoming (It’s about the same now except the runway is asphalt and the Northwest Airlines flight is in from Minneapolis).  There were all sorts of old aircraft, some from WW1, open seaters, Fokkers with the locals awe stricken at the  wing walking and parachuting.   

This time, it was helicopters - all shapes and sizes.  Craft from the military, police, air-evac, TV stations, private - you name it.  I was able to wander about, get inside some of the copters, look at the museum exhibitions, talk with various flyers.  Alarge number of families were there with excited yelling kids.  During the show, there were demonstrations of helicopters’ abilities including  stunt flying and sky diving.  Despite the 100 degree heat, The entire scene was exhilarating and left me trying to figure out how Flying lessons could fit into my  life.
 
Back in the forties, when I was a single college student, all my extra money went into flying lessons.  An old Piper Cub, as basic and simple as you could get.  The I met a guy,  student, a Navy vet, and learning to fly flew right out of my life.  We ended up into sports cars - and I must admit, the atmosphere at sports car races is similar to the air shows.  But at the moment, I am single, the owner of a Mini (after several Jags, a MGA, and three Alfas) and I’m gone, traveling at consistently at least twice a week -- ain’t going to happen unless I give up exploring the universe.  And I’m not.  

I barely manage to squeeze in a weekly  afternoon volunteering at the Library  and a monthly morning for the League - and they all understand my erratic schedule.  So it looks doubtful I’ll fulfill my dream of a Private Pilot’s license, though I may see about volunteering at the Air Museum, if I can work something out.  It’s  second best, but then I am doing the traveling and writing that were also part of that dream package.  

Anyway, walked back to the train station where I found I could have taken a shuttle to the airport!  Got back to Menlo Park, with required Atherton stop,  in time to pick up a sandwich at Barrone’s cafe and then home.  

(For what it’s worth, I ‘m still trying for the Kenya Camel trek for February.  I did send in  deposits for a Mesopotamia trip in March-April 2009 and another  Afghanistan trip  in August 2009,  this one in the mountains and  including Herat and the Minaret of Jam.)

James Bond, Ian Fleming and the Spy scene!

I don't really fit into the Elderhostel scene though there are some interesting people who travel with them.  This was my fourth experience with Elderhostel:  two daytime workshops and a trip to Sedona and the Grand Canyon predated this excursion.  Plus this  was about my 20th trip to London  and my second to Cambridge.  Love London! 

It was  the topic that brought me:  the 100th birthday of James Bond/Ian Fleming plus the Cambridge spies. Eight days in London (staying at a most elegant hotel near the old Tate Museum) and three days in Cambridge (another 4* hotel), this time focusing on the Cambridge spies and the SIS. 

I flew in four days early and booked a room at my affordable  2* establishment in Bayswater with facilities down the hall.  I had tickets for the Royal Ballet (Robbins' Dances at a Gathering and Ashton's The Dream) and one of their New Works series, sux short ballets done by young choreographers.  These were the high points of the trip.  I also had a ticket for Jeremy Iron's portrayal of Harold MacMillan in Never So Good, a real tour d'force. 

Saw a couple of other plays:  39 Steps, a comedy based on John Buchan's adventure story,  Brief Encounter, a muti media version of Noel Coward's play. and Tim Piggot-Smith in Shaw's Pygmalian.  A night at Royal Festival Hall with the London Philharmonic and a Sunday noon concert with a chamber orchestra at the Wigmore completed my cultural journey.  Did it on the cheap by eating at take-aways and the theatre cafes.  Happily walked all, except when it came to moving from Paddington to the Westminister hotel - that was done via tube.

I was odd woman out!  I was an "enforced single"; had the room to myself though I had paid to share.  The oldest in the group was a 86 woman, most attendees were retired, almost all had been professionals - doctor, lawyer, educator ,plus a couple of former NSA types.  Several were seriously into Bond and could recite chapter and verse from the movies and films.  Then there was me who hadn't seen any of the films but had. in my salad days, read all the books - and remembered little from them.  I was much more interested in the Intelligence history.

The leader of our motley band of fifty  was Nigel West, author of several dozen books on espionage (of which I had half a dozen plus another dozen by other authors).  He was knowledgeable, articulate and could talk indefinitely sans any notes.  His supporting cast included Andrew Lycett, a Fleming biographer (had that book), Boris Volodarsky, a Russian defector, Corelli Barnett, a rather pessimistic British historian, Andres Lownie, a John Buchan biographer (had that book too; love Buchan!), and  Kate Westbrook who talked of her experience in putting together the MoneyPenny series.  There were several others who talked about the Bond films and the Bond books.  We also spent time at the Imperial War Museum, where the big boys' toys are on display.  The Bond exhibition was okay but I really enjoyed The Secret War section which had bits and pieces of things from MI5, MI6, SOE and the Special Forces (SAS being another of my interests).  Lording over all  was one of T E Lawrence's beloved Broughs.  I passed through the Fleming Collection of the Book Covers and attended the Reception and Gala dinner at Gladstone's Library.  It was enough:  I was well Bonded. 

While in London, I had tea with the son of a good friend, who had just had his Master's thesis accepted, met with my roommate from the Jordanian portion of an earlier Middle Eastern trek and saw the tail end of a bike race that had gone from the UK to the battlegrounds of France to raise funds for a charity for veterans - it seems as if hundreds had gone, civilians to military riders.  Bagpipes were playing which always bring tears to  my eyes.  I did make my obligatory visit to the British Museum and got up to the National Geographic Society and British Library with its Ramayana Exhibit.

By the time we reached Cambridge, ten partipants had dropped out and I acquired a very compatible roommate.  West was the lecturer the entire time:  talked about the Cambridge bunch and how they interlinked as well as spent some time discussing the NKVD Illegals.  We wandered about Cambridge, one time  on organized  tour and the rest disorganized.  West spend an evening reviewing Cold War films and then showed Tinker Tailor - four of us hung on through all seven segments, to the bitter end, trudging to our rooms at 2 AM.  I remember seeing this on PBS, trying to recall the plot line  from week to week.  Great to see it in one fell swoop. particularly as I remembered who the Bad Guy was.  And Guinness was such a magnificant actor; who else could be "Smiley"? 

The final piece d'resistance was the aftenoon at Chicksands Museum.  Chicksands was a USAF base and is now an active Military Intelligence School.  Included  was a collection from Brixmis, cold war intelligence gathering (I had just finished Tony Geraghty's book about it) and all sorts of photographic and radio equipment  - Fascinating displays. 

This was a more expensive trip than usual: With airfare and all, I estimate $6000 for two weeks.  I suspect I'm the only one, who in the evaluation, suggested they could down grade the accommodations.  I mean, I did not need my own individual computer in the room - I'd settled for a shared freebie at the hotel.  A 2*/3* hotel would have been fine.  But considering my interest in  Intelligence services and Special Forces operations and my need to return to London,  it was  worth it. 

The July Kenya camel trek is off; I'm returning to Ethiopia instead, this time south into the  Omo Valley.