Is there really so little to write about, as early November, grey, but pleasantly mild morphs into a short-lived mid, and then late November. High winds and some very heavy rain have shown little mercy on the vibrant autumn colours, always the harbinger of possibly months of freezing conditions and the inconvenience of (especially where I live) contending with huge falls of the “white stuff.” Yet, I was quite happy to wade through this during a brief bus ride from Vancouver to Whistler at the beginning of June, when back in the real world, summer was just beginning, as actually, it was in British Columbia on Canada’s west coast.
As those of you who read my blog will remember, I spent much of the first seven months of 2022, enjoying commuting across the North Atlantic (by sea, of course) to various destinations where cruise-ships call, and fascinating and distant parts of the world can be explored, either independently, or by pre-organised excursion, now referred, pompously, by Cunard as shore experiences. Actually, shore experience could be an appropriate description…not all experiences are necessarily good ones!
What feels like recently, but was probably and four or five years ago, I read a book “from cover to cover,” unusual for me, as generally, I don’t enjoy reading. I think the title was Captain of the Queens, an autobiography of Bob Arnott, whose fascinating and at times, poignant maritime career culminated in his becoming Master of the former Cunard liner, Queen Elizabeth 2. In a later chapter, he recalled a passenger who, each year, would take herself on the World Cruise, and then address an audience at her local village hall with an illustrated account of her travels that year, an event which was always “sold-out.” Already, I had chosen to use my travels as an opportunity for self-imposed sponsored walking, in support of Christian Aid Week 2022. A respectable number of people had signed up on the proviso that I would achieve the One Million Steps on and Between Two Continents suggested in the title of my challenge. While contemplating over a designer coffee in a lounge with infinite ocean views and a dramatic skyscape, thoughts of this little old, but well healed lady, and her annual sold out slide show, prompted me to consider doing something similar in Buxton. As a teenage rail enthusiast, I would do something similar at school, and, even into my early 20s, give an account, only when invited to, of my very first trips to North America, a huge adventure back in 1969 and 1971. Things were far simpler then. The completed roll of Agfa CT18 would be posted to an address in SW19, and around a week later, an orange and blue plastic box with 24 or 36 colour-slides would come back in the post, proving a mixed success rate in one’s photographic prowess. I also had some success with Super 8 cine film, but only with a camera with no attached zoom facilities!
This year, I did feel that my travels were worthy of sharing with an audience, possibly at the modern Church Centre in Buxton, very close to the 17th Century St. Anne’s Church on Bath Road. My walking efforts, which averaged 11,000 steps per day (3.89 miles) for 131 days, had generated a respectable contribution to Christian Aid; my talk would perhaps “top up” the funds raised to date.
People rarely “do” colour-slides these days, and I would have to reacquaint myself with how PowerPoint works. I had used it briefly sometime around 2006, when invited to address the Conservative Coffee Club. Both occasions did go well despite “over-running!”
This time, the challenge was to condense a land and sea journey of (very approximately) 55,000 miles into to two half hour sessions, with a tea and cakes break in between.
I purchased a new PowerPoint projector, and screen, appropriate for the size of the Church Centre. With enormous patience from a good friend, for whom anything hi tech is merely a way of life, I would again be reasonably confident with PowerPoint, and was soon adding pictures and removing those in an effort to confine my talk to two lots of half an hour!
So, the last few weeks were occupied, putting this fundraising event together; lots of trial and error, including having a computer expert cleaning up and re-equipping my laptop, by now, suffering from constipation!
The day I was dreading, and looking forward to simultaneously, had arrived. I had culled my pictures by a third, and felt fairly confident that I would include all that I intended in perhaps, two lots of 40 minutes, rather than the intended half an hour. I was encouraged by the number of people who turned up, far more than I realistically expected on a dull, windy cool November evening. We started at 7.30 prompt. Even in 45 minutes, I hadn’t got anywhere near where I wanted to, to close “part 1.” However, part one did generate what I felt was a sincere applause. I, with everybody else, took a twenty minute refreshment break. By then, I had realised that my laptop had defaulted to a less edited version. Pictures which I thought I had deleted, suddenly appeared, as if to say, “up yours!”
In part 2, I decided that scenes of the Grand Canyon would make a suitable finale. At the intended finishing time, I invited those who were not comfortable staying out late to leave, assuring them that there was always an opportunity to “see the rest” at a later event. Surprisingly, the hall did not empty and the presentation came to a suitable end with fabulous images of the Grand Canyon. Another round of applause, and a collection plate brimming with generous donations. I gave myself a small pat on the back!
Many thanks for reading,
David, 13.22 hrs, at home, still full from breakfast at the Premier Inn.
David's Cruise 