Matterdale is fully booked -- in fact you may well be getting this newsletter at Matterdale. As in previous years, we plan to have a `bring a dish' supper on the Saturday evening, so if you see this before Matterdale, do please bring something. Deposits will be required for the other huts -- contact Sarah Gardiner for details. Deposit slips will be found further down this newsletter. We also have the possibility of booking Bron-y-Gader in the Summer. The hut is available for booking between the dates of Tuesday 14th- Friday 24th August. If anybody is interested could you please let Sarah know before or at Matterdale.
Dear All,
The president has roused himself to book the annual..er..occasional dinner. It will be at the Sun Hotel, Kirkby Lonsdale once again. The date is Saturday 31st March and the hotel currently has 9 rooms and the cottage available. Book early to avoid disappointment. Tel 015242 71965. Note that all rooms are already booked for the Pint and Peak club, so you will have to mention that you are a member or the hotel will claim to be full. I will have a £15 per head menu to choose from at Matterdale. (Presumably if you miss Matterdale, you can ask the pres nicely and he'll tell you what is on it -- ed.)
Adam and Sam have declined to attend the dinner so the President and Secretary will be letting their hair down so to speak. Some earnest sampling of the fine malts available will be on the agenda. Talking of agenda I guess we ought to have an AGM of sorts. Please send me any items you would like to include on the agenda.
Tourist info no. is 01524 271437. There is alternative accommodation at:
Note that the Snooty Fox is just round the corner. The Sun is centrally located so any accomm in Kirkby Lonsdale would be OK.
See you at Matterdale
El Presidente
Scene: the editorial office suite. It's late at night and the techie is putting the newsletter together. There is a big gap in it labelled Meeting Report: Seathwaite 2000 which the techie was hoping that someone would fill. It has remained empty, though, and the Editor and the techlets are away in lovely North Wales for half term, so they cannot he hassled for copy. The ugly realisation settles slowly, like a blob of cold gravy, into what passes for the techie's brain: he is going to have to write it himself....
Even techies like to get out into the big room with the blue ceiling occasionally so on receiving a call from the Editor's mobile in the University carpark I headed out of the Place of Enslavement with a song in my heart. I threw my mucky old bike onto the rack along with Jessica's brand new one and dived into the Editorial Wheels. At that point the song in my heart was drowned out by the song that the car stereo was playing and a cold knot formed in my stomach as I remembered that Eleanor was going through a phase of insisting that her tape of jolly children's hits was played over and over again any time she was in the car. There are only so many times that a grownup can hear "the runaway train" before their brain explodes and mine was close to this point by the time we reached Penrith for the ritual stop at the Little Chippy and even closer by the time I reached Seathwaite. I have never been so glad to see that oh-so-parapetless bridge looming through the darkness. All four wheels went safely over the bridge and we piled into the hut for the usual round of bed-bagging, child tucking-in and collapsing in front of the fire with a can.
There was only one plan for Saturday as far as we were concerned and that was finding somewhere for Jessica to ride her new bike. Unfortunately, the big blue room had been replaced for the day by an infinite series of small grey rooms, all of which contained a quite unnecessary amount of water. We spent the day in the forests at Whinlatter where the Forestry Commision (or whatever they are called this week) provide an almost endless range of nice wide gently sloping forest roads. The miserable weather had the beneficial side-effect that there were few pedestrians to hit and by the end of the day the next Chris Boardman was a great deal more comfortable on her wheels. By the time we were tired but happy, It didn't really seem like time to go back to the hut so we stopped for tea and scones in a hotel. When the scones arrived it became clear that we were not going to require any dinner that evening -- the home-made plum jam and brandy butter rapidly replaced any calories that we had burned in order to survive the weather. I have fuzzy memories of squeezing some dinner in anyway, but not until very late.
On Sunday morning the big room showed signs of containing something other than grey wetness, so we packed up and, abandoning everyone else to their pursuit of mountains, we set of in search of more cycling territory. We crossed the Honister Pass and trundled past Buttermere to a wood at the foot of Crummock Water. This turned out to be a delightful spot and, wonder of wonders, the ceiling of the big room turned from grey to blue and the sun came out. Definitely worth waiting for and I was sorry to have to put the bike back on the car and head awa' north.
BMC membership 2001 is £100 - club funds are now no longer able to support continued payment - again, any ideas suggestions, feelings etc please contact the secretary. Accounts are in the paper and email copies -- Thanks, Sue!
I have a confession to make. Believe it or not, there was actually no popular demand for further newsletter articles by this distant P&P member, no great outcry against the possibility of a lack of further articles - but I'm going to do another one anyway. Apparently there are few other contributions at the moment (Lucy?) and I do like writing (had you noticed?) so I thought I'd just use up a little more newsletter space to tell you more about life in a mega-city. My bluff has been called and found wanting. But I feel that there are some delightful features of life in Buenos Aires to tell you about.
One such is the bi-annual flowering of the multitudinous jacaranda trees in spring and autumn. They line many of the main thoroughfares as well as gracing the quieter suburban roads. Last year the autumn display was accompanied by a spell of dry, warm weather which prolonged the lifespan of the dense mat of lilac flowers against a leafy canopy and the deep blue sky. Then there are the windfalls -- literally. Strong winds blew up before the avocados on the tree in the school grounds were ripe. These are normally the exclusive perk of the live-in Bolivian caretaker but they came down in such abundance and with such solidity that whole bin bags full of these ovoid cannonballs were deposited in the staff room. Did you know that if you wrap an unripe cannonball/avocado in newspaper it soon softens up? The guacamole went down very well at that week's dinner party.
We also still have those lovely little suburban shopping centres that used to abound in England before the days of mass car ownership and mega-multi-hyper-supermarket-one-stop shopping. Me, I have no car and I have no need of a car. For me shopping now involves a vertical journey in the lift almost as long as the horizontal one along the street (underneath the flowering jacarandas in spring and autumn) to be greeted by ones own personal shop assistants who seem to know what you want before you do. Like the greengrocer who knows how much I like avocados but regretted his latest batch were rather `duro' (hard). They weren't ripe enough. That's when I learnt about the newspaper trick. If I need a car I just call Rikardo and pay him to drive me. But Rikardo is another story -- yes, sorry, there are more stories where this one came from!And then there's the parillas. Australians think they know a thing or two about barbecues. In fact, they know nothing. I have two Australian friends here who both acknowledge that, compared to the Argentines, they are rank outsiders, mere amateurs. Go to a bbq here and if you're asked if you want `leg or breast' they probably mean to say `of cow', bit don't because it's taken for granted. If you want chicken there's no messing around with small portions like the leg or breast of a mere bird. You get the whole thing. Sausages? I've seen smaller French loaves. Just watch out for the small wriggly sausages. They're the intestines of the cows. OK, so parillas are good, but I didn't say they're perfect.
So, life can be good in this Latino-American city. Best of all is `besos'. Besos are very much a part of the culture here. It was my birthday recently. Yes, most of you missed it except, as ever, David and Bethan. This is something for which I am very grateful, for at my age -- an age which makes me the most senior member of P&P -- birthdays are more an occasion for commiseration rather than celebration. However, here in Buenos Aires I would happily have a birthday every month. Por que? Que es la diferencia? Por que..
It is the tradition in the staff room to provide cakes on one's birthday. These vary from `media lunas' (half-moons, croissants) to `facturas' (petits fours) to a `Mary Special'. Mary is the Headmaster's secretary, a secretary of the highest order. She is also a part time baker of the highest order. She makes cakes. Correction: she makes confectionery to die for. If a Mary Cake is on offer I personally take extra insulin and throw diabetic caution to the wind. So, for my birthday I ordered a `Mary Special'. Now, a Mary Special is a treat to be reckoned with, big-time. Teachers can sense that a Mary Special is in the staff room from all parts of the school, and that day, my birthday, the staff common room was uncommonly full. Not only was it a Mary Special but, unbeknownst to me, it was The Dulche de Leche (caramel with extra sweetness) Mary Special -- la crème de la crème.I presided over the cutting and distribution of the cake as one might preside over the distribution of largesse from some great estate to the poor of the parish. There was a supplicant queue of teachers and administrators clutching china saucers and plastic forks awaiting their portion. Those at the back were visibly drooling and anxiously watching the clock for the start of the following lesson whilst mentally calculating whether my apportionment meant there would be enough left for them. I had never before seen the power of confectionery. But best of all, even better than a Mary Special, is `besos'. Whilst every male member of staff shook my hand warmly (more for the gift of the cake than in congratulation for my birthday) the women and girls gave me the side-winder cheek kiss that is a feature of almost every greeting between the genders in this warm and friendly country. That day I met people I'd not met before but would love to meet again! `Beso' is Spanish for `kiss'. Maybe birthdays aren't so bad after all.
But besos are not confined to birthdays. Besos are for all sorts of occasions. I am now mildly surprised that I don't get besos at the start of each lesson. I suspect that is only because I am too business-like in class. Whenever we greet the youngsters at the bus stop or jetty prior to a field trip, besos from the girls and handshakes from the boys. Once I was sat outside a café in town in the evening awaiting a friend when two 15 year old girls from one of my classes walked by. Instead of ignoring me as youngsters in England might be inclined to do they stopped, sat down, besos, and then chatted for 5 minutes before going on their way. Parents at parents' evenings? Besos. Greeting the secretaries in the morning (especially Flavia)? Besos. Colleagues after a holiday? Besos. End of the week, have a nice weekend? Besos. Ex-pupils? Besos. This is a warm and friendly society.
Besos y abrazos, amigos. Suerte y salud. Hasta luego. chau!
Kisses and hugs, friends. Good luck and good health. Until next time?. Tara.
Please return to Sarah Gardiner before well before October
I wish to attend High House Borrowdale 19-22 October 2001
Name(s)....................................................
I
enclose a cheque for £10 per person, or £12.50 per person if they are
staying the Sunday night, (half price for children in beds) made
payable to Pint and Peak Mountaineering Club.
Please return to Sarah Gardiner before May.
I wish to attend Bron - y Gader 18 - 21 May 2001
Name(s)....................................................
I enclose a cheque for £10 per person, post-dated to 18 May 2001
(half price for children in beds) made payable to Pint and Peak
Mountaineering Club.