El Escritor Inglés: January 2013

Sunday, January 13, 2013

I Tell Them Dalmatia

Nowadays, thanks to iPhones and the like, everyone takes pictures of everything and of everyone else. It all boils down to simplicity and convenience. Before the digital era, I owned a fairly ordinary 35 mm (analogue) camera and took it with me all over the world. I still have it, it still works, and the small fortune I spent on films and subsequent processing was worth every penny. Today, my young children ask constantly to see pictures of ‘America’, ‘the Reclining Buddha’, ‘that leaning tower of Pizza’ and ‘Daddy riding on the elephant’. Every image demands a story, even if (a) they have already heard it or (b) I have forgotten what it was.

The most frequent question they ask is: ‘Where’s the best place you’ve ever been?’ Such a vague question would seem difficult to answer – and yet, it is not. My reply is immediate and unequivocal: Croatia, in particular the island of Hvar. I first visited it in my early twenties. Think of small sailing boats moored in a sunny harbour, a clear blue sea overlooked by haphazard terraces of immaculate white houses with terracotta rooftops and you will get the picture (Figure 54.1).

Figure 54.1: Hvar Town Harbour from halfway up a pine-covered hillside

Hvar is situated just off the Dalmatian coast, I tell them, bathed by the crystal-blue Adriatic Sea (Figure 54.2), and has more than its fair share of olive trees, semi-secluded beaches and small vineyards. Its town lies on the island’s southwestern extremity, overlooking the smaller islands of Pakleni Otoci. The view of the port, set in a naturally-formed bay, is too perfect to be captured adequately on film, however sophisticated the camera, and its summer sunsets redefine paradise.

Figure 54.2: Simplified map of the Dalmatian coast

Within a year of my visit, the entire Balkan region became engulfed in a vicious civil war. Briefly: Croatia made a UDI (unilateral declaration of independence) from the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. Its secession was opposed by Serbia, led by President Slobodan Milošević (1941-2006), and, for this reason among several others, war lasted from 1991 until 1995. In the end, Croatia achieved its goal, and preserved its territory, although many of its historic cities and towns were almost irreparably damaged.

In 1996, Croatia had further reason for national celebration. Its football team performed admirably at the Euro 96 tournament held in England. Every match was sold out, but I contrived to secure tickets to the game between Croatia and Denmark in Sheffield (Figure 54.3). Even before the emphatic 3-0 victory, inspired by their talisman Alijoša Asanović, I had never seen such deliriously happy faces. Hillsborough was awash with fast-flapping red-and-white chequered flags of a proud nation reborn.

Figure 54.3: Euro 96 Group D programme and match ticket

I returned to Croatia after the war. The magnificent walled city of Dubrovnik (Figure 54.4), on the southernmost Dalmatian coast, about 150 km southeast of Hvar, had been practically obliterated by artillery fire. It has since been restored, fully and faithfully to its original architectural style, and is, once again, a magnet for travellers with cameras.

Figure 54.4: ‘The Girl In The Red Hat’: a beautiful picture which I took in Dubrovnik.

150 km along the coast in the opposite (northwesterly) direction lies the pretty village of Bibinje. This was the birthplace of a celebrated Croatian folk singer called Tomislav Bralić (1968-). He is one of the finest exponents of klapa music, which is often a cappella, and has its roots in church choral works. His band, Tomislav Bralić i klapa Intrade, sings of love, wine, the sea and their hard-won homeland. Klapa festivals occur regularly throughout the summer, and the band’s pitch-perfect male-voice harmonies, combined with heartfelt patriotism, never fail to raise the hairs on the back of my neck. Their most famous piece is the stirring Zora Bila, which translates roughly as ‘New Dawn’ (Figure 54.5).

Figure 54.5: Tomislav Bralić in concert with klapa Intrade at the Arena Zagreb

What I would not give to hear them, along with hundreds of locals, sing it in Hvar’s vast pjaca (piazza), in front of the old cathedral, on a balmy summer’s evening. I know all the words; and, yes, I would sing it with them for all I am worth. Afterwards, we would enjoy a beer down at the water’s edge (Figure 54.6) and stay out until the new dawn.

Figure 54.6: After the show ...

So here it is: the world’s most beautiful folk song, performed in its most beautiful location (Figure 54.7).

Figure 54.7: Nije meni nikad dosta
tbojih ruku, tvoga tila,
opet će nas zagrljene naći skupa zora bila!

Tuesday, January 01, 2013

¡Feliz Año Nuevo 2013!

... or Happy New Year, Heureuse Nouvelle Année, Buon Anno.

Those who, like me, enjoyed life in 2012 could, today, well be wondering for how much longer they can expect to ride their luck. Given the current world climate – physical, political and economic – only a fool would predict with confidence the state of the world twelve months hence. So, briefly, here goes.

Climate change is beyond dispute. Its causes, however, are not. Unfortunately, the debate surrounding it has been politicized to high heaven, making it all but impossible to see the truth through such a thick fog of vested interests. In the UK, a mere three years ago, the public was being warned, mainly by third-rate politicians, about the inevitability of hot, dry summers soon becoming the norm. Naturally, 2012 was the wettest year since records began. Such scientific illiteracy is often staggering. I recall, a few months ago, reading that ocean levels would rise as a result of Arctic ice caps melting. They will not. The ice at the North Pole is waterborne. In accordance with Archimedes’ Principle, ocean levels will remain the same regardless. I predict only that more dumb remarks will spew forth in the coming year.

War is the easiest occurrence to predict, because it never ceases. China is at odds with Japan; North Korea is flexing what muscles it has for the ‘benefit’ of its neighbours in the South; Israel is absolutely on collision course with Iran; and Africa remains, well, Africa. Stand by for business as usual.

The West is drowning in a sea of debt. Europe, in particular, is slowly being asphyxiated by the monstrous creation that is the Euro. The proud nation formerly known as Greece is now, in effect, occupied by Germany; and the economic (mis)fortunes of Spain, Italy, Portugal, and even France remain at the mercy of a cabal of vainglorious politicians and bank chiefs. Breaking point is imminent.

The UK has become grotesquely overpopulated, the population of England having increased by 10% in just 10 years. A year from now, millions of Bulgarian and Romanian nationals, too, will be eligible to immigrate. Unsustainable is too polite a word. Unless the UK breaks free from the EU in 2013, the consequences will be both unimaginable and unmanageable. Since Christmas, I have been engrossed in a delightful book entitled Britain’s Lost Cricket Grounds by Chris Arnot – a gift from my children. It chronicles cricket venues nationwide which have succumbed to either cash-starved neglect or concrete ‘development’. The worsening housing crisis will, because of mass immigration, ensure that the country becomes ever less green and pleasant in the near future.

As national banks, on both sides of the Atlantic, continue their QE (money-printing) extravaganza, inflation will rise at an increased rate. Paper money will lose value. Bond yields will be slashed and pensions will become worthless. In contrast, and as a direct consequence, precious metals will increase sharply in value. History and logic prove that this must be so. Wise, long-term investors will buy gold and silver bullion in 2013. Silver is probably the smartest bet, but its purchase is, unlike that of gold, subject to 20% VAT. A 100g silver bar can currently be bought for less than £100 (US$160), 1g of gold for about £40(US$64), so neither is beyond the reach of most.

In the light of the above minefield of world crises, I still look forward, most of all, to another twelve months on which my own children, and all others, will be able to look back and be thankful (to whomever) that, somehow, 2013 had treated them kindly and fairly (Figure 53.1). I can, as ever, but hope.

Figure 53.1: My raisons d’être

Here we go again – viva la vida – so watch this space for more musings on life, past and present, through the eyes of a well-travelled Englishman (Figure 53.2).

Figure 53.2: Happy New Year to everyone, from El Escritor Inglés