Easter Circus

A bright spark at the BBC has hatched a cunning new celebrity, reality TV programme called ‘The Road to Santiago’. With scheduling aplomb, it is airing now in the run-up to Easter. It consists of seven individuals, some of whom are minor celebrities [a comedian, a comic actor, a singer and the widow of a semi-famous magician] one lady vicar, one ex-convict and someone else. They are an eccentric mix prompting you to wonder why they’ve been selected, or if they were selected at all-more a random sweep of anyone whose flagging career needed a kick or who has designs on fame.
The comedian [Ed Byrne] and the comic actor [Neil Morrisey] provide some much-needed entertainment during the walks to historic Santiago de Compostela, although spiritual enlightenment or succour is on neither of their agendas. Ed is a habitual walker, Neil has probably been pointed the way by his agent. The widow [Debbie Magee] is seeking ‘answers’-the questions, presumably not having been answered by taking part in ‘Strictly Come Dancing’, another celeb series, which aired before Christmas. I’ve no idea about the ex-con or the other person but it is the vicar who interests me, since she appears to become less Godly as the series progresses.
That this is not one sustained walk but a series of selected walks along the way feels like cheating. Nevertheless, the vicar struggles up the hills, complaining and sweating, neither svelte [like me] nor used to exercise. She is not spiritual, serene or exemplary. In one comical scene her group happens upon a tap offering an unlimited supply of wine free of charge, a blessing of which she avails herself by glugging the wine directly into her open mouth in a most un-Godly fashion, after which she straightens, smacking her red, dripping lips and rejoicing in the best freebie since communion wine.
I’m always amused by the antics of religious nuts. Returning [late] from the pub a week or so ago Husband and I passed a stream of cross-wearing hikers wending their weary way through our little town. Where they were from or where headed we’d no clue, but I remembered that years ago, when on an American west coast road trip with a friend we stopped in San Francisco for a few days. It was August. We were taking in the sights of the city, beginning with the iconic Golden Gate Bridge which was half-swathed in cloud-commonplace weather for San Francisco. As we sat to enjoy the spectacle of the rose-tinted towers rising from the mist a small, excitable group of young adults arrived, one of whom trailed an extremely large cross on his shoulder and prepared to tramp over the bridge with it. I raised my camera, only to spot, at the base of his cross, a small trundle-wheel. Was Jesus afforded this convenience, I wonder? And why was this little charade taking place in August? I will never know; but it was one of those wonderful, whimsical moments that make life entertaining.

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Think you don’t have an Accent? Think Again!

A recent poll in The Independent newspaper revealed that the British accent is the most popular in the world.

This is an odd piece of news. For a start, who is to say what, exactly a British accent is? There are many. There is Geordie, West Country, Scottish, Brummie, Northern Irish, Kentish, Cockney, Liverpudlian, Welsh, East Anglia, Yorkshire, Lancashire, Home Counties and many more besides…

Within the areas there are also differences in accent. A trip around Scotland, Yorkshire or Birmingham would expose a plethora of differing sounds in words.

Presumably the ‘British’ accent of the study is ‘BBC’ style, although even in an organisation as large as this there have been attempts in recent years to get regional accents on to the airwaves rather than the plummy tones of yesteryear.

While it is surprising to learn that the French accent is less of a draw, it is no real shock that the Queen’s English is admired around the world. Many years ago I undertook a road trip along the West of the USA with a friend-my first jaunt to America and one that I considered intrepid, given that I would be driving an automatic car on vast freeways and attempting to join the LA traffic and cliff-hangers of San Francisco.

Part of our home made itinerary took in a trip to Las Vegas, which involved travelling across the desert. We’d scheduled in stops, one of which was at Victorville, a kind of truck stop on Route 66. We’d found a hotel [on our budget we were confined to the cheaper chains], dumped the bags but at that point, although we’d driven all day in sweaty heat, a beer seemed more compelling than a shower.

We found a simple, no frills bar which was occupied mainly with workers, mainly male, enjoying a drink after their day’s labours. The arrival of two English women provoked enormous interest, so much that we were unable to buy our own beers and were interrogated on every aspect of our personas and our trip. This, incidentally included a query as to whether we met the age criterion for alcohol [most flattering, since I was 40 at the time]. The flattery continued. ‘Ah luuuurv yer aaahccent!’ one of the admirers drawled. This threw me. Having moved about the country quite a bit throughout childhood I consider myself accent-less. ‘I don’t have have an accent, you do!’ I replied.

Every country, of course has regional accents but you have to be well versed in another language to recognise them. After many years of regular trips to France I still struggle to understand the Southern French tones, and even here in my own homely island much that is spoken with a Scottish twang escapes me-notably post match inquests from football managers etc

I don’t really have a ‘favourite’ although I must confess to there being one or two I really do not like. What are they? Not saying! What’s your favourite?