London and Tolpuddle July 2022 - Scratch One Bucket List Item

This was a solo trip as, for some odd reason, the prospect of joining my in re-living my egghead (academic) time in London and then heading to the countryside for three days of a British union and labour history circus/festival didn’t appeal much to Geri.

 Pearson was a nightmare.  My travel date was right in the middle of the giant mess that the airlines created by trying to fly a normal schedule whilst leaving as many employees on layoff as possible, just cause the pandemic losses needed to made up somehow.  So flights were being continually delayed or cancelled.  On the up side, my Air Canada return fare with one piece of checked luggage (reading the news made me go carry-on only), was less than $700.

 There were lines to get into all restaurants and bars and people were sleeping on the carpeted floors in the duty-free shopping area in Terminal 1.  I eventually got a seat at a table of elderly folks on their way to Israel.  They had been at Pearson the whole day (my flight out was around 19:00) after their connecting flight arrived from Winnipeg.

 My flight was delayed repeatedly so when we were told to go to our gate and line up it seemed as though it might happen and so I popped a couple of cannabis gummies.  Inevitably there was a further delay and so the weed had well and truly kicked-in by the time I boarded.

 Which was a good thing as a couple that had somehow gotten past the Air Canada staff checking luggage for size with two large suitcases masquerading, successfully (!!!), as carry-on, managed to cram their luggage into an overhead bin.  Which promptly collapsed at one end under the weight.

 Thanks to the gummies I found that funny, unlike the fellow who had been sitting under it.

 That generated another flight delay of about a half hour while a tech came and fixed it.  All in all I think the flight was delayed about 5 hours.

 Heathrow was fine in comparison (something I never thought I would say) and I was on the tube and headed into central London right quick as I had only a carry-on.  Long lines at the luggage carousels as a result of staff shortages made me feel downright smart.

 I try and have almost always succeeded in staying at the St. Athan’s every time I am in London.  A comfortable but cheap hotel in Bloomsbury.  I first stayed there in 1984 I think and as I like (am obsessed with?) being a ‘regular’ and because the London portion of my trip was meant to be a nostalgia binge, I had one of the small singles I stayed in for a couple of months in 1989 as well as a couple of times whilst there for shorter periods.

 How small you ask?  Take a gander HERE.

 I wandered around (but not in, as security is now rather tighter than it was in 1989) SOAS and UCL.  I finally, on foot even, made it to the Cable Street Mural (photos HERE), visited the pedestrian underpass at Blackfriars where I was once mugged…all the big tourist spots.  😊

 I also got out to Clapham to see a young old friend now working for the ITF and for a few pints at The Bread and Roses, photos HERE, run by the Workers Beer Company, a worker-owned co-op, one of my fave pubs in London.

 Speaking of pubs, I was able to meet up with David (stepson #1) and his Kate at The Lamb.  Been a regular (as in I drop by for a pint once every 5 years like clockwork) there since 1989 I think.  One of the few pubs in which snob screens (see definition HERE) survive.  Which I love.

 Whilst David and Kate weren’t as enamoured of the snob screens as I am, we did have, I think and hope, a fine time.  I certainly did.  There’s something really lovely about meeting-up with people you know when all are far from home.  We parted, me to continue my goofy farewell tour and them to sleep before heading to Scotland, David having won a lottery that got them tickets to the British Open at St. Andrew’s.

 Photos of our visit at The Lamb HERE and of them in particular HERE.

 Another couple of days of that and I decamped for Muswell Hill in North London for time with Eric Lee and Cindy Berman.  But before zipping up north  I horned-in on Cindy’s birthday dinner for Eric at a very nice Argentinian restaurant not far from my hotel.  Some fine and unusual cocktails were consumed before dinner.  On an embarrassing note, I hadn’t realized that Cindy was picking up the tab for the whole shebang and so ordered us a very pricy bottle of wine.  Despite Cindy’s protests I tried to make up for it over the week that followed but suspect that I failed dismally.

 Eric gave me the tour of his neck of the London woods (literally: some very nice park walks in MH), which on one day included a giant full English of course.  And we spent a day down on the South Bank catching me up on the food carts and restaurants that have sprouted there since I last visited.  One of the restaurants we used for a lunch with another old union fart, Roger Darlington, someone I see regularly about once every 20 years.  Photo HERE.

 An artist of some renown who lives in Muswell Hill hates gum on the sidewalks there and so decorates them, turning them into tiny works of fine art.  Lovely things really.  See HERE.

 Cindy, Eric and I then packed-up and headed to the village of Tolpuddle for the Martyrs Festival.  Cindy drove (I was very glad of this), Eric navigated (we got there, despite Eric never having had a driver’s ticket), and I sights-saw.

 Cindy had booked a lovely Airbnb outside the village (pop. 400).  Photos HERE.

 I don’t know quite what top say about The Tolpuddle Martyrs Festival.  Even though it was the first since the 2020 lockdowns began there were still over 5,000 paid attendees (normally it is close to twice that) plus the folks who don’t pay but who can join in even so. 

 Going to the festival the same year that I attended the London (Ontario) ceremonies at the monument to the Martyrs was near the top of my Bucket List.  Deservedly so as it turned out.

 Labour history workshops, current struggle panels, surprisingly good food, union banner displays, and of course the LabourStart table and presentation.

 It was a union geek and nerd circus all lubricated by the tent set up by The Workers Beer Company (operators of The Bread and Rose – see above).

 Best of all, the LabourStart table in the gallery was right across from the table occupied by a bunch of comrades from TUFAC, the Trade Union Football and Alcohol Committee.  Lovely folks who work at weaning young workers away from yobbism and the far right types who recruit footie fans into racism etc.  This they do with high-quality football gear, a brewery and their own brand of gin and vodka.  They do their own organizing on the side of good but also give away all their profits to support others with more expertise in anti-fascist work.

 I had a really wonderful time and would happily go back, hopefully after the village pub and its rooms above re-opens.  Unless you camp (lots of spaces for it), booking a room there would be the only way to avoid having to drive back and forth each day.  And now that we know how things work LabourStart could have a much bigger presence there if we were to return.

 For more on the Martyrs see HERE.  For my many, many photos of the festival see HERE.

 The Great Heatwave was in the news when we headed back to London.  Put paid to my plans for more wandering.  Hung at Eric and Cindy’s.  The impact of over-40 temperatures (photo proof HERE) on a city where little is air conditioned was quite striking.  Trains cancelled or running slowly.  Most of the Tube trains sidelined.  Shops and other businesses closed. 

 Fab night at a play near their place that I REALLY enjoyed, a Turkish restaurant beforehand.  So, a fine time despite the heat on my last night before Tubing it to Heathrow for long lines on the way home.

 As Bucket List items go this was a great one, in large part because of the company (in order of appearance: David, Kate, Cindy, Eric and Roger)..  And the nostalgia bits fun as well.

 Next up at some point:  The Mother Jones Festival in Cork.

A Week in a Caibarien Casa Particular

Caibarien will be known to folks who have sent some time at one of the Cayo Santa Maria and Cayo Las Brujas resorts as the last town before the causeway out to the islands.

We were long-time Cayo Santa Maria and Cayo Coco fans.  We started heading to Cayo Coco in 1993, a little overwhelmed by the way Verdero was being developed (when we first started going there were kids camps and people had homes on the beach and you could walk it for an hour without running into anyone).  When the Sol CSM opened we were on the first flight from Toronto and there were years when we managed to fit in three trips there or to the Melia CSM or to the Melia Las Dunas.  We generally alternated between a 'lie down and read and drink for two weeks, then get up and go home' resort trips and a trip somewhere in Canada or to the USA, Europe or Asia for a more active holiday.

We have occasionally stayed at casa particulars elsewhere in Cuba (note on our memorable such are HERE) but we tended to think of Cuba as a place to go for a rest and a read in the sun.

But when I (Derek) retired two and a half years ago my interest in lying around reading in the sun for two weeks faded quickly.  Geri was already a bit tired of resort holidays. 

In short, we were on the verge of skipping our usual trip to Cuba to warm up our winters entirely.

But we 'owed' a visit to a longtime friend who had worked at the Sol CSM and the Melia before 'retiring' to Caibarien to open a casa particular (a Cuban bed and breakfast) a couple of years ago.  We had visited for a tour several years ago and had promised we would stay with Noemi and Roberto.  So last year we combined resort time with a few days at Hostal La Nena.  Details of that trip HERE.

Which went so well we thought we would try a week at Noemi's and see how it would go.

Plus it was the 30th anniversary of our first trip to Cuba as a couple, so of course we had to fit in just one more trip.  :-)

It went really, really well.  We are rejuvenated!  :-)  So much so that instead of saying goodbye to our annual trips to Cuba we're looking forward to a longer stay with Noemi and Roberto next year.

They are just amazing hosts.  It may not even matter that we have known Noemi for almost 20 years as a German couple of a bike tour who wandered in one day looking for a room got the same treatment we did.  The rooms are great (this may say more about me than Noemi and Roberto, but the rooms are the only ones in Cuba or Europe we have stayed in that had facecloths! :-).   Though I don't think we turned on the TV in ours even once.  Breakfast was SPECTACULAR. 

And rather touchingly, we were invited to a couple of family parties with some amazing food (finally!  Lobster stew right off the stove!).  Roberto's mother lives across the street and she came over for a meal and seemed to enjoy the cigar I offered her from my stash.  Noemi's father zips in most days on his motorcycle.  He's a hoot too.  The rest of family was around as well, including their daughter who now lives in Florida.  Some worries about her ability to visit in future given how the US has reversed itself and started tightening the screws again.

Noemi, Roberto and their Hostal La Nena get a rave review from us all.

So does the coffee shop across the street run by a lovely elderly couple from their front room, using a window as a counter.  Regulars (I think I almost became one) have to stop for a while as there are of course no disposable cups and the coffee is strong enough to require some time.  People chat, fix bikes, consult on various problems, then turn in their glasses and head to work.  I think Roberto was at first a little worried about me going over there for a coffee but eventually believed me when I said that I found it fun, it was no reflection on his coffee or the time of the (early) morning when he made it.  He even gave me some 'national currency' to use instead of CUC.  Which I sent off to some young friends who collect currency while using CUC to pay for my morning caffeine supercharging.

So, rather oddly, it looks now as though our pattern may be a month in a villa in Portugal 'resting' from the labours of retirement, alternating with a few weeks in Cuba having a more active holiday.  A reversal of our usual pattern.

The week was lovely, the weather about perfect.  We did spend one day in Remedios as a kind of stopover on the way to the airport and to see the casa particular a friend, Darlene, who had been with us for the week at Noemi's, had booked as she continued her trip.

Lots to see and do around Caibarien.  We became regulars at a few spots.  But the balcony just steps from our room and the comfie rocking chairs on it held their attractions as well.  Especially around noon on a hot day or before leaving for dinner (Roberto and Noemi will do you a dinner at a reasonable price but as they had family with them all week we stuck to eating out).  The balcony is not only shaded and comfortable, but it provides a good view of street life and so can be more entertaining than you might imagine.  :-)

For those who don't know, Cuban resort food is in no way, shape or form representative of Cuban food and so we ate rather well.  Did some walking about town to compensate.  We had good meals at Coliseo and another Italian spot right on the town square whose name we can't recall.  The nearby Pocurull was a fine spot for a beer or two and some fries, despite the potato shortage (an annual event in January we think) but, sadly, our experience there last year for dinner means we cannot recommend it.  Resort food and by far the most expensive meal we had by a factor of four.

The worst we can say about the Coliseo is that the servings are too large.  Once Geri and I split a plate of paste and we were both stuffed.  And one night the three of us each ordered a pizza and left stuffed and with doggy bags in hand.

One day we walked off the previous evening's meal by heading up past the rail works to the cemetery at the south end of town.  Always fun no matter where you are, but Cuban cemeteries have more ornate tombs than most.   Which of course took us past the giant statue of a crab (the town symbol) which some folks who travelled to Cayo Santa Maria more than a decade ago with remember as the airport bus would go past it before the bypass was built.

The plaza was only a few minutes walk from La Nena.  Pretty.  A classic.  Even a band in the gazebo in the centre one day.  Some restored buildings around it plus an hotel is going into a colonial (I think) structure on the north side.  Sadly, construction was on hold while we were there as there had been a death on the worksite a week prior.

The plaza hops at night.  And there is a giant kids playground right there should you have a few in tow on your visit.

One way for us to get there was to walk down a boulevard with a median that has statues scattered along it.  Mostly local notables from the 20 and 30's who paid to have them put up and a few heroes of the War of Independence.

A long walk for me (but Geri and friend Darlene took a short cab ride there) was the beach.  Nice spot for a beer on a sunny day, the bar (there are others in the two hotels there) pleasantly wacky.  Nice cats and chickens wandering around the place.  Beach seems nice enough but I have to admit I didn't go for a swim.  Next time. 

A highlight of our walks was the town market day.  Hard to describe, so check out the photos.  The snacks, especially the sesame seed bars, are killer.  Geri found her bliss in a bag of pork crackling.

On a couple of days we had friends who work at the resorts drop by.  Once even brought dinner for us to enjoy at La Nena.  Others managed visits for a drink or two and some chat.  And our longtime bud Yeuset not only dropped by but met us a few days later in Remedios, gave us a tour of the really very lovely hotel on the plaza where he now works, then invited us to his mother-in-law's birthday party at his house.  Which has been added-to since we last saw it and is really a lovely home in a friendly neighbourhood.

Remedios was a day in the rain (the last day of our trip and the only day that didn't have perfect weather, so no tragedy) but we still had fun wandering around.  There is a bar we have been going to for almost twenty years that we had to stop in on.

The only downside to this kind of stay is that I got in only a few hours of tanning on the lovely rooftop terrace at La Nena.  Mornings up there with coffee as the sun came up and evenings with a beer (La Nena has an honour bar in the dining area) as it went down made up for it.

We made a drop of medical supplies at the hospital thanks to the wonderful folks at Not Just Tourists.  They provide a shoulder bag or suitcase, your choice, fill it with medical supplies and depending on where you are going them can even provide a connection to a medical facility at the other end for the hand-off.  As always the drop was a highlight of the trip, a chance to see things you hopefully wouldn't otherwise, like a hospital or polyclinic.

The only serious downer was the flights.  We'll skip Sunwings next time and go straight to Transat or AC, even if it costs more.  But on a positive travel days note, the special services folks at Abel Santamaria were amazingly helpful getting us through things on the way home, including the Sunwings rep who helped get us into the VIP lounge (which was great as always.  Fun to see all the staff and catch up on stuff). 

Hostal La Nena is on Facebook HERE.

Not Just Tourists can be found HERE.  They have chapters with pick-up points scattered across the country.

Our photos can be found HERE.

A note on costs: Airfare, room, food, booze, the odd cab including too and from the airport (organized by Noemi and Roberto) all came to a bit less than half what it would have cost us to stay at the Melia CSM for the same week.

Derek Solo in Ireland 2019

The trip began well enough with the train into Pearson.  I was solo as this was an item on my bucket list, attending a World Science Fiction Convention (WorldCon) and not Geri’s.  I added a few days at the front end to do some dark political tourism in Derry as the cheapest flight I could find was on Rouge to Belfast via Edinburgh.

Smooth train ride to Pearson.  And on arrival I got a free entry to one of the stand-alone (not connected to an airline) lounges because I have a low-end Amex card.

I had to overstay the time allotted to me though as my flight was, in the end and after several rolling changes, four hours late in departing for Edinburgh.  By the time I realized that it was going to be late in leaving I had already eaten the cannabis brownies we use to sleep through flights while keeping our backs relaxed.  We time them such that they kick in about the time we board the aircraft, allowing for a one hour delay while the THC kicks in.  Makes it possible to sleep on the plane no matter how small the seat.

Made the last couple of hours I spent in the lounge kinda fun.  I oscillated from having a fine time to being ready to put my hands behind my back when the SWAT team figured out that I had overstayed my free two hours.

Edinburgh Drama:

On arrival in Edinburgh I tried to relax and make the best of things.  Kinda proud of how well I did at that. 

Turned out that there are only two FlyBy Airlines flights from Edinbugh to Belfast on Saturdays and the first had, as expected, left.  The second was full but I went on standby for it anyway, killed a few cappuccinos.  Just in case someone didn’t claim their seat.

No dice, it stayed full.  Air Canada gave me a room at an airport hotel plus food and booze to a max of I think 100GBP.  So my plan was to nap, head into town and see what I could of Edinburgh.  The nap went well but when I woke up it was raining heavily.  I grabbed my Kindle and went to treat myself to a steak for dinner on Air Canada.  It and a book and some nice (and free) wine) were the plan.

A couple of bites into the steak I was running out of oxygen and standing by my table, trying to convince people in the dining room to give me the Heimlich maneuver.  About three quarters of the room looked annoyed at me for disturbing their evening meal and the rest looked as scared as I felt.

Only one other guest and the bartender started running towards me.  I still don’t know which but one of them grabbed me and did the deed.  I turned my back to them to speed things up as my vision was going red around the edges by then.

After much gratitude etc. I sat back down and continued my meal.  Actually finished it.  But later spat up some blood when brushing my teeth for bed.  I asked about a clinic etc at the desk and choose to spend a couple of hours reading and drinking ice water in the lobby while the staff kept an eye on me. 

Once the bleeding stopped it was fine though I did stick to soft food for the rest of the trip I think.

I am in line to take a first aid course that includes the Heimlich.

Sunday morning I was off to Belfast.  From the domestic airport I took the Airporter bus to Derry.

Derry:

Fascinating.  A flashpoint during The Troubles and where Bloody Sunday took place. 

Photos HERE.

The tensions are ramping up again as Brexit approaches.  Some really unpleasant actions by Loyalists and some petrol bombs in reply just the day before I finally arrived.

Abbey Road B&B is highly recommended.  See photos.

Mostly walked around on my own.  Aside from the murals left over from or referencing the Free Derry period lots of political graffiti and memorials to both civilians and IRA volunteers killed by the British.

I took the murals walking tour.  These are conducted by the families of those killed on Bloody Sunday.  The Free Derry Museum was also worth a look-see and some cash.

My only regret was that because of the delay I wasn’t able to make lunch or a beer with the General-Secretary of the Derry Trades Union Council.  Would have been the icing on the cake.

Bus to Dublin:

Bit of a tour of Loyalist towns and some rather deliberately and spectacularly offensive symbols, liberally used.

News to you I am sure:  Ireland is very green.  😊

And it rains a lot.  Perhaps there is a connection.  Anyway, the whole time I was there it rained with little or no warning.  Small storms in off the Irish Sea. 

Dublin:

Photos of the Dublin bits HERE.

It has been a long time since we travelled to Europe in the summer.  1984 for me I think.  The cost of rooms was a reminder of why (weather being the other reason).  So I stayed in the Trinity College dormitory.  Stark but serviceable.  Short middle-of-the-night trot to the toilet.

I enjoyed the WorldCon.  Glad I went, crossed it off my list.  The convention programme was 188 pages.  6300 people registered.  All organized by volunteers.  Very impressive.

But I am more a reader of science fiction than a serious fan.  And while I got to meet some nice folks and see and hear some authors I have been reading (one for fifty years or close to it I think), I won’t be off to another one.  Just not my thing plus I thought it was just too big.  The largest room at the Dublin Conference Centre holds 3,000 people.  Which meant that I often had to line up to get into workshops or panel discussions.  Once I skipped a workshop so that I could line up early to get into a workshop that started two 50 minute time slots later and still wasn’t there early enough to get in.  And I was never able to get anywhere near the front of the lines when I tried to get my name down for a beer with Joe Haldeman.

Anyway, other than some longish waits I had fun at the WorldCon.  Finally go to see one.  And the strange people who go to them.

When not there I took Lorcan Collin’s renowned 1916 Rising walking tour and made the required pilgrimages: Glasnevin Cemetery, Connolly statutes, Larkin statue, Dunnes Stores strike memorial.

Just as importantly I got to The Celt for what will likely be my last pint there before I croak.  A pub Geri and I have always made our local when in Dublin.

Met friends there too, always an oddly fun thing to do when far from home.  Pat and Michael were in Dublin on their way to Michael’s family reunion.  And Blaine and Rosalie had swapped houses with a retired professor (I think) and where just outside town for a whole month.

I met B and R at the Guinness Storehouse, a stout museum.  Again,  travelling during the high season was a problem as the place was PACKED.  Bit embarrassed that I had recommended it to them actually.

As always, Dublin public transport was fab as were the busses Belfast to Derry and Derry to Dublin.

Got in a really, really interesting lunch with the International Secretary at the ICTU and coffee/breakfast with three folks from the Dublin TUC.  Always interesting to see and hear how other people do things.  Especially with Brexit looming.

Seamless trip home.

Two years in a row when I have had some solo travel.  Don’t mind but not as much fun as Geri to talk to each evening about the day past and the one to come.

Likely my last trip to Ireland, only thing I didn’t do was stay up late enough to catch some stand-up comedy.  Might have to go back for that.  😊