Heathrow Gnomes

Heathrow Gnomes

The first time I heard of the Heathrow gnomes I thought I had misheard. I was sitting on the flight deck of an A320 taxiing towards the take off runway with a set of headphones on when the Captain asked me if I had ever seen a Heathrow Gnome. I shook my head and wondered desperately what he had meant. Had he said “Crows”?
He went on to say that they were often seen at the foot of the orange windsocks which ware dotted around the runways. “He must have meant crows”. I thought to myself. “Or perhaps some other sort of animal”.
Andy the Captain went on to say that they moved around and were spotted in all sorts of random places around the runways doing random things. I was getting very confused and decided to humour him by smiling blankly. “God help us” I thought. “This man is flying the plane today.”
He must have seen the look of “You’re a nutter” on my face because he turned towards the windows and started to studiously peer out as the First Officer took control of the taxiing. Suddenly he gave a shout and I nearly wet myself. I am not used to people shouting on aircraft unless its an emergency. He pointed out towards a windsock. “There’s one!” he said triumphantly. “Over there! Look! Can you see it?”
To my complete and utter disbelief, sure enough, sitting merrily under the windsock was a cheeky little garden gnome.....

A few nice hours in Nice Dec 4th 2013

A few nice hours in Nice


I walked down to the main shopping street towards the Place Massena which sported an upmarket Christmas market. Maybe its the azure blue sky, but I feel I like this place, despite its pretentiousness. The market sells the usual Christmas tat together with pricey cheeses and sausages. I am tempted by a cows cheese with truffles until I spot the price tag of 69 euros a kilo...
They also have an ice-skating rink right next to a large fountain, selling half hour slots for 5 euros With Skates, a bargain clearly, based on the number of people on the ice. I am surprised they are able to keep it cool enough as despite it being December, the temperature is at least 18C.
The beach front is a bit of a let down. The town is clearly taking advantage of the low season to do its improvement works, and the each promenade runs alongside what basically amounts to a building site. I’m sure it’ll be lovely when it is finished but I take the chance to follow the signs to the “Castel”, which morphs into the “Casteau”. It is only once I am much further up the hill enjoying superb views and tranquility that I spot a sign to the “Chateau”. Phew, I was beginning to think my understanding of French was very poor. I notice that a lot of the  roads have two names, a French one and a local one, squares are often “Plassa” rather than “place”. At the top of the mount I find a lovely waterfall complete with a hidden staircase behind it which alas is locked. Perhaps next time I will sneak in, but the water is very cold and the rocks are slippery so I will wait for warmer times.
I walk back down the hill into the maze that is the old town. Beautiful buildings host bijou antique shops and restaurants. Basic meals seem to start around the 20 euro mark, but the setting is formidable.
I also notice a large number of 3 wheel motorbikes. When the first one goes past me I snigger, thinking they look funny with their 2 front wheels, and that the riders clearly don’t have the confidence to ride real motorbikes. But there are lots of them, parked up on the sides of roads next to more normal looking bikes. I wonder what it is about Nice that makes these so popular and whether it is to do with the weather and the aging population who might not be so stable on 2 wheels but can cope with 3. Curious.

The Witch of Savernaky

I was out one day in Savernaky
Hunting there for 'shrooms
When I came across a fair young maid
a-riding on her broom

She smiled at me with her comely face
And said young man take heed
I'm a witchy witch in Savernaky
The last of a dying breed

I've got spells galore, all the charms you desire
I've a potion here I'll pour
With a root that'll set your loins on fire
And a herb so you'll never tire.

We witchy witches of Savernaky
We are such a dying breed
That I need a child and I like your look
I intend to make you my steed

She pushed me down and I fell to the ground
And she jumped upon her steed
And she rode me hard and she rode me well
And I was very pleased indeed.

Now the years gone by
and my babe doth cry
In the heart of the Savernaky
Shes a bright wee babe from the witch in the glade
Shes a little witchy witch baby

Te recuerdo Victor- en el 40 aniversario del golpe en Chile 11.09.2013

Te recuerdo Victor
La calle mojada
tanta sangre derramada
tanta gente asesinada

porque porque porque?

fascistas asesinos
cuerpos amontonados
el miedo y la esperanza
los soldados enloquecidos...

Tu teatro callado
Tu musica silenciado
Tus manos destrozadas
las balas en tu cuerpo

porque porque porque?

Te recuerdo Victor Jara,
tus palabras siguen vivas
cantando tus canciones
con voces que nunca callan y nunca, nunca olvidan

I lost my love at Nineveh

I lost my love at Nineveh

Enshrouded by light stood Nineveh
Tall and towering in mighty fire
Joyous and well her great lord led
Yet no more does it crave desire
(all was quenched when blood was shed)

Citadel of dreams was Ninua
Home of beloved Artemis was she
Bright were her streets with gentle mirth
Land of my lover with whom I dream
(her blood now mingles with the earth)

A conspiracy of 3 came down on her
For her brightness brought forth jealousy
Cyaxares Nabopolassar and God came close
Joining to end her destiny
(little remains of my once gracious host)
Fire a fire burns therein
It burns with brightness long erased
It burns for Ninevehs fallen men
It burns in memory of her days
(It burns for my lover my stolen gem)

My love died with Ninua
Consumed by her eternal flame
Raised to the ground by furious hands
As Ninuas warriors she too was slain
(Love and capital buried in sand)

Nineveh was always city of light
Paregoric stronghold now causing pain
Death destruction within your walls
You are lost but I conserve your name
(My wounds grieve no more my lover calls)