A diverse offering twixt the interesting, the unusual, and the amusing.
Saturday, 9 June 2018
I wonder what ever happened to....
Our wedding was a somewhat haphazard affair. We wanted to get married in Paris, but were told that we would need to be resident for two weeks; we couldn't afford the time, so we decided on Gibraltar instead.
At the time, the Spaniards were playing silly buggers, and had closed the border between Spain and Gib'. One either had to fly in direct, or take the ferry to Morocco then take another back to Gib'.
This meant that we ended-up having our 'honeymoon' in Tangiers before the actual marriage ceremony itself.
On the ferry between Algeciras and Tangiers we met three Americans; two female secretaries and one male dentist, all from New York. We decided to find an hotel together, and ended up sharing one large room with four beds. The communal shower room was a huge wet-room with six shower heads, there was no room for shyness when taking a shower. The whole Moroccan ambiance was great fun.
The dentist, GG (let's call him Gary), was a very nice guy. He instantly threw himself into local traditions, and quickly returned to the hotel with a big slab of government stamped Hashish, which we sampled at once.
We didn't stay in Tangiers too long, but spent some great times together.
Before we left for Gib', the American trio very kindly presented us with a wedding gift; a very attractive black and white woven blanket that we loved. We used it for many years before it finally fell apart.
I don't remember the names of the two secretaries, but Gary's name has always stuck in my mind, and I recently decided to consult Google to see if he was still around.
Dr Gary's name was all over the net. It seems as if he's one of New York's most important practitioners in Prosthodontics, with loads of honours, professorships, and several books, to his name.
I was almost tempted to write him a 'Remember me?' letter, but thought better of it.
Doris Lessing, flashers and cats
I have been reading for some weeks now (about three) Doris Lessing's
autobiography, Walking in the Shade.
Doris Lessing came to London in the 1950s havin...
2 days ago
The difference between an optimist and a pessimist, is that the optimist enjoys himself whilst waiting for the inevitable! I AM that optimist!
This is a daily, optimistic, 'photos and comments' blog. I make no judgements (only occasionally), just notes. If you wish to comment in any way at all, please feel free. Everything and everyone (except the obdurate and dictatorial) is very welcome.
I was born just south of London, but for the past 46 years I've lived in S W France. I am a painter by profession, and writer by desire. Lady Magnon and I live in an ancient cottage, in a tiny village, in perfectly tranquil countryside. We have a vegetable garden called 'Haddock's' (this may crop up from time to time), plenty of fruit trees, and a view that takes the breath away. I try to treat our planet with respect, and encourage others to do likewise (without preaching).
Contentment is a glass of red, a plate of charcuterie, and a slice of good country bread. Perfect!