TO-MORROW'S FISH & CHIP WRAPPER

Meet Frank, photographer for the Irish Times Magazine. He took hundreds of pictures of me when he came to the Irish Writers Centre, a nice professional man, and as I told my friend Rita who was helping me focus, where else could an 85 year old have a good looking young man kneel at her feet?
So this morning I Went down to Camden Street early and bought this Saturday's Irish times. On the cover a celebrity woman golfer, pretty with a frangipani blossom in her left ear which used to be a signal as to one's nuptial state. I forget which ear meant the wearer was single. Sinead Gleason,s article about me was on page 6 with a photograph of a batty old wrinkly that turned out to be me. Reading interviews about oneself is a truly ego depressing experience, no reflection on Sinead's or Frank's competence of course.
But on page one of the weekend review was an account of a six year old girl who was asleep when her foster father came home at midnight and beat her te death. This was the report of a 1968 court case, where the jury had decided it was all right for a carer to beat a child to death. The foster father was sentenced to 12 months in goal.To-days article points out that 'horrible things'were still being done to children, but now such events 'évoke horror', showing a shift in social attitudes. I hope so.

LET'S STOP KIDDING OURSELVES

I have been travelling for nearly three months and often meet people who have only a hazy idea of where New Zealand is and what it is really like. For Loyalty's sake I smile and agree that it is a lovely country full of intelligent people and sheep. I am tempted sometimes to say what I really think. So here goes, and I hope I will be allowed back in the country when I come home in September.

On the surface New Zealand is a pleasant society, founded by idealists who wanted to build Utopia. But New Zealand has a brutal understructure. It runs by male values for the three Rs, Rugger, Racing and Rooting. The rich guy with the best P.R. gets the top job Yes we have had Female Prime Ministers,Governors General, and Chief Justice, but listen to the undercurrent, Fred Redneck drinking with his pals and Lucy Loudmouth in the coffee shop. Do these achievements earn respect? Of course not, High achieving women are lesbians who have slept their way to the top. Good old Fred knows somebody who drives a taxi in Wellington and they should know. Or Lucy's daughter is a hairdresser in a salon on Lambton Quay, and one of her clients works in the Prime Minister's Department and told her.
What worries me is that Lucy and Fred and all their connections get to vote. They have only a vague notion of how the country functions, but they cast votes. After Helen Clarke was defeated I asked several friends and aquaintances why they had voted the way they did, Common replies were, 'Ít's time for a change'but no idea why they thought that. 'John Key's a nice looking man,' So if masculine good looks is a qualification for high office I should nominate Justin Beiber for Pope.
But New Zealand is a great place to bring up children. Really? That sad little roll call, Lilly Bing, Delcilia Whittaker, Coral Burroughs, James Whakaruru, the Kahui twins, and so on, tell a different story.
Of course Lucy Loudmouth KNOWS these things are done by non white solo mums with unemployed boyfriends.Well the probloems of bullying and violence is spread a lot more thickly through all classes of New Zealand society.I saw that in my teaching years and it has been going on for a very long time.
And then there is the habit we have of cutting down tall poppies. Helen Clarke had been Prime Minister 'Long enough', when two women in Masterton won Lotto there was an outcry, 'It was too much.'our guardians of public virtue cried. It was exactly the amount prescribed by the rules of Lotto.
I read in the news that the Government is planning to issue coupons for unemployed under eighteens which can only be redeemed for food and clothing not cigarettes or alcohol. How sanctimonious! May I suggest that the authorities then modify petrol pumps so that farmers can only fill their tractors with tax rebated petrol, not the family car, and while they are at it they should modify cash registers so that farmer's grocery items are not classed 'dog food'regardless of the vintage.
So Fred Redneck and Lucy Loudmouth open your eyes, and your minds, start putting your brains into gear before engaging your vocal chord. But neither of you read my blog do you?

SANDWICHES WITH A SMILE

I don't know their names, the young couple who run O'Brien's coffee shop on the corner of Harcourt Road and Charlemont Street. I dashed in there one holiday lunch time because the Kebab shop I usually patronise was closed. The couple in the Cafe were about to close, but they stopped putting chairs up and made me a snack to take back to the hostel;hot cappuchino and the best sandwich I have eaten in a long time, hot bacon, sliced tomato and red onion in fresh wholemeal bread.
Their premises are so small it has more tables on the pavement outside than in, but everything is scrupulously clean. She makes the sandwiches,the fillings are on display in a glass cabinet. He makes the coffee and handles the cash. But the nicest thing about the whole set up is the way these two treat their customers. When I go in they remember me, the way I like coffee, and that I prefer wholewheat bread. My sandwich comes cut into little triangles, and there are some potato crisps on the plate too, plus a little square of dark chocolate in the saucer of the coffee cup. And there is a copy of the day's paper for customers to browse.
There are many good eating places in Dublin, O'Brien's is one and an unexpected pleasure.

A DECENT NEW ZEALANDER

No photograph to-day. I logged on to Yahoo news and found tributes to Sir Paul Reeves, ex Anglican Bishop of Aotearoa, former Governor General who never seemed to play politics, or race. A decent man, and I have only a vague idea of what his political affiliations were.

Then I read that 'óne in four New Zealand children are living in poverty.' Well I wish someone would define poverty, because in my years of teaching I have seen children whose parents were short of cash, but the quality of their living was rich. I went to school with kids who had bare feet, and their fathers were out of work, but those father's grew vegetables and caught fish while their mothers knew how to sew and knit and make the most of what they had.

And I do not believe that throwing money at Barnado's will cure poverty. What will help is decent people being acknowledged, regardless of their income. Decent people make a decent society.

AS I WAS SAYING

In the 1940'S a member of the Guinness family married and she was given eight square miles of Irish countryside as a wedding present, including a castle. two lakes, forests with foxes, badgers and other Irish wild life(Celtic Tigers excepted). My eldest son, Frank wonders if she was a stout bride. with a dowry like that would it matter?
Joe, our encyclopedia of Irish knowledge and bus driver-tour guide, told us that Guinness is no longer owned by the Guinness family. It was taken over by a French consortium. I don't know who owns the Guinness Estate, all eight square miles, but it was a fantastic spot to look at from the hill tops. Joe also kindly took pictures of us with our own cameras so we had a souvenir of the day, plus proof we had been there.
It was while staying on the Guinness Estate that Paul McCartney composed his song, "Yesterday" That to Joe's generation is ancient history,

HOW'S THIS FOR A WEDDING PRESENT/

A CHALLENGING IDEA

Yesterday I at last got my bus tour sorted and enjoyed a great day with a driver called Joe. He looked like Rod Stewart would have before he got so dissipated and he sang a great deal better, was a great story teller as well. WHEN I get my pictures down loaded I shall write more about Irish scenery that looks like Otago without the dairy cows, where Paul McCartney struck lucky with scrambled eggs, a young woman who runs marathons to raise money for cancer research and the village where Ballykissangel was filmed.

In the meantime I gave up trying to book a flight on the internet to get from Dublin to Bristol, The web page advertised flights from 5.99 euros. I tried to find out what the luggage allowance was and got locked into a mass of non information. So this morning I walked down Camden Street until I found a real live travel agent. Yes, he could book me a flight to Bristol, cost 138 euros. He showed me the print out, luggage, taxes, airport charges, probably donations for Ryan air's grandmother's birthday, and use of the on board toilet, swelled the cost from 15 euros to more than 100.

So I have been thinking, would it be possible to travel the world like I do without any luggage? I wouldn't mind trying it. I once spent a week in San Francisco with only my carry on bag. I could stow knickers and toiletries in a large handbag. On arrival at each destination I would visit the local op shop, kit myself out and leave it all behind when I leave. How;s that for a reality show? And it does make sence The shorts and T shirts I wore in Crete are just so mch dead weight now, and I had to find some warmer clothes in Dublin. I would rather like to challenge the airlines at their own game, fly round the world at minimum cost and still be well dressed.
Watch this space.