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A little local difficulty

The first book I remember reading that involved travel to far flung locations was one written by an old colonial hand, Fred G Merfield, with the alluring title ‘Gorillas were my Neighbours’. Looking back, I now see it as the memoirs of a casual racist, (amazingly quite acceptable at the time), with caricatures of tribal rituals, cannibalism and bush meat in Equatorial Africa. However, it was a considerable eye-opener for an eleven year old boy and certain phrases from it still loiter in my mind.

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Join the Dots . . . . !

Join the dots and make a picture, win a major prize !

 

As the caption always read in the children’s comics puzzle page I used to love, I’m a great one for connections. Searching a page of scattered pinheads for patterns drove me crazy but the lure of the (never-won) prize was of less importance than the discovery of hidden forms. It’s hardly surprising that his has spilled over into a lifetime of travel, and I wonder how widely this affliction or condition is felt. Perhaps it’s a form of synaesthesia, where a person can hear a word that overwhelms them with colour, or may be able to see the wind passing.

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Hi to amateuremigrant followers !

I’ve had the delight over the last few days of m’learned friend’s company.

There have been some new features on the Amateuremigrant website today – I’ve added in feeds from Instagram and also embedded the podcast version of posts to make them more accessible. You will already know I like to champion Alt Text with images, for the benefit and enjoyment of visually impaired users.

M’learned in question is Alex Dunedin maestro of the Ragged University – check out this charity which among other things organises meetings, lectures and learning lunches.

Ragged University curates a vast array and amount of information, ideas and all sorts of contributions to a website which is accessible and open to ideas and submissions from people who have some knowledge they feel useful to share.

He, like me is a high functioning version of a host of imperfections and the internet is his forte. He built the website I run and has been of immense (slightly baffling . . ) help, along with his eccentric and eclectic ways which mask my own foibles marvellously.

I’m also posting this from my mobile app – another new experience – other bloggers could give it a try !

Cheers Alex, a redoubtable figure.


Departures: trains and boats and planes

Having spent so many years working in travel, I’ve lost count many years ago of the number of times I’ve left the front door not knowing if I’d ever see, or be seen again by those I care for. Of course, in reality, we all do this, every day, accidents happen, symptoms strike haphazardly and in a certain frame of mind even the most bizarre unlikelihood seems as possible as any other.

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Story behind the Picture #13 When in Rome . . . .

When we travel, many of us will at least pay a nod to the old saying “When in Rome, do as the Romans do”. I guess that this is generally useful advice, in particular paying attention to socially acceptable dress and behaviour, and I have heard numerous instances of people thrown out of places of worship for wearing shorts, hauled off for kissing in public, and of course being obnoxiously drunk. It seems to me rather odd, even disturbing, that so many people will demand that visitors to their country adhere to the current views, but obstinately refuse to adapt their own behaviour when abroad. However, the choices we make once out of the office and ‘into the wild’ can be surprising, even to the participants. I’ve lost count of the number of people who have told me ‘I’d never have dared do that before’, and am glad I was able to help them go off the rails a little, its good to get out of your comfort zone.

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Story behind the Picture #12 Please, what is this fellow saying . . .

 For the benefit of the uninitiated, arrivals in India will encounter a deluge of offers, entreaties and unexpected, labyrinthine connections that will leave them reeling, or laughing their heads off. I heard that J.K.Galbraith described India as ‘functioning anarchy’ as depicted in the postcard I found in Goa. I also heard a description I particularly liked, which is ‘5,000 years of poetry and no two lines rhyme !’

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Back Country Crossroads in Hungary

Hungary, through many eyes, is a country of extremes. It lies on the fringes of Europe, unlike most European countries it is landlocked, and commonly experiences scorching heat in the summer and tree-cracking cold in winter. The Hungarian language is also one of a kind with no near relations; this allows a defensive impenetrability, but engenders a cultural homogeneity almost like that of Israel.

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