5 December 2024

Wishing you a Spectacular Christmas

Ho Ho Humbug!



If I make it this could be my LXXIIIrd Christmas, and all I can say is that I am relieved it only comes once a year..... 


A rather premature, and hirsute, Baby Jesus at Thursford


{By way of a spoiler alert, I would also like to tell you that this year there will be four full shopping moons between Christmas and Easter (Wolf, Snow, Worm and Pink to be exact)....}



But that is beside itself....  I am writing this in Polish - Polish Pure Christmas Spirit that is...., to wish the world well, inspired as I was, by my first visit to Thursford, yesterday (the day before Thursday, that is).


Welcome to Thursford!

And what, pray, I hear you cry, is Thursford when it's at home?


Ah, you are as ignorant as I were.... or was? 

[Before you saw the light?  Ed.]

Exactly so.



Let me put it like this. In a vast (1,400 seat) shed, in a field, in Norfolk (somewhere between Fakenham and Holt, though it is difficult to be precise in the dark) there are currently c120 performers and a 32 piece orchestra doing their damnedest, upon a 130 foot stage (and in the aisles), to entertain a sea of grey hair and Christmas jumpers.....



The Thursford Christmas Spectacular blows its own trumpet thus: [It] is an extravaganza of non-stop singing, dancing, music, humour and variety. It’s a fast moving celebration of the festive season featuring an eclectic mix of both seasonal and year round favourites.




And they go on: Thursford’s Christmas Spectacular has attracted over 5.8 million visitors to date and is the largest Christmas show in the country.

It is set in the magical surroundings of mechanical organs and fairground carousels, 



with a cast of 120 professional singers, dancers and musicians – most of whom are straight [Perhaps that is a matter of opinion?  Ed] out of the West End. The three hour performance delivers an extravaganza of non-stop singing, dancing, music, humour (adult [Or possibly geriatric? Ed]) and variety. It’s a fast moving celebration of the festive season featuring an eclectic [? Ed] mix of both seasonal and year-round favourites, with famous and much-loved chart toppers being performed alongside traditional carols. 


Please note the finale of the show includes a fly over of  [Very peckish? Ed] white doves across the auditorium. 



Word of this amazing show has spread and it is now generally recognised as being the largest show of its kind in the country, if not Europe. Up to fifty coaches per day travel from all over the country and many of our patrons have visited year on year, turning the trip into a mini holiday staying in the county’s hotels, guest houses and holiday cottages.





Well.  I was (and still am) blowed!





Being a naturally generous paternal figure  and with Christmas heaving up on the starboard bow, I felt it was only right to treat a convenient daughter (sorry, Sarah, but you will live in Australia!) to this extravaganza of non-stop singing, dancing, music, humour and variety.....




And we was/were certainly entertained, (particularly by the finale fly over of white doves.....)


The whole thing is chaperoned by Lloyd Hollett, who is 'apparently' The Comedy Wordsmith [Me neither. Ed].  There is also Robert Wolfe, who has 'apparently' been playing the Wurlitzer here for 44 years [Has he won yet? Ed] although he lives in California [He must have long arms?  Ed]  {Give it a rest.  R}.




And there are special performers....  Danny and Ash Butler dance with their mountain bikes across the stage; Michael and Dario Togni (from the famous Italian circus background) are what may once have been called "tumblers"?  Ukrainian Contortion Act, Anna Biseva and Sofiia Soloviova, demonstrate some acute angles and precarious balances, and Rody Olivares Fernandez is an award-winning Diablo artist [What the devil is that?  Ed].....


[By the way, photography is not permitted during the show, but if you go to Thursford's own website or to their Facebook page there are lots of pictures and a promotional video....]



And as if that wasn't enough there are Christmas carols, numbers from Riverdance [I believe that is an Irish thing?  Ed] The Sound of Music [Something from Austria?  Ed] and even a rendition of John Lennon's Happy Christmas, War is Over.....  And, just for a moment, with a mug of mulled wine and a mince pie, surrounded by tinsel, traction engines, flying reindeer, dancing girls and jolly young men, you could almost forget the world outside, and the proximity of war.....

Almost......



It really is a fine show, and the hundreds of happy pensioners who bussed in from all over the country (some from Teignmouth, some from Bradford) certainly seemed to enjoy themselves, rising with their walking sticks to a standing (well, almost) ovation at the end..... before creaking out into the foggy night, back to their cosy buses.....




*******

But, then, back home, with an eclectic mix of both seasonal and year round favourites gradually fading into the grey, and some of the joys of the festive season dissolving like slush, I find myself about to post my wife's Christmas cards, painstakingly pasted together from cut ups of older ones, and handwritten with messages during lockdown, over four years ago now.  

Dear Amanda.  

She would have loved the Thursford Spectacular - her feet would have been tapping and she would have laughed and smiled along with everything.  It is/was absolutely her kind of fun.  But she isn't here, even though she wrote cards to her friends for every year up to and including 2029.....

It makes me sad, though I know I should rejoice in her memory.

Ah well, Ho Ho Humbug!  Enjoy!  This could be my LXXIIIrd Christmas.  

I wish you all well.

Pax vobiscum.....




And if you haven't ever been, it really is a Christmas Spectacular!


As reviewed in The Guardian (a little read and hardly known northern newspaper) a few years ago:

Thursford Christmas Spectacular review – a sugar rush of festive cheer

Thursford Collection, Norfolk

A fever-dream of outrageous talent and suffocating joy, this extravaganza must be seen to be believed, albeit just the once......




 










27 November 2024

Of all islands.....

Mad about Madeira



Sitting, slightly cramped, on an Airbus about to take off on the runway at Cristiano Ronaldo Airport in Madeira, we are told to shut our eyes and cover our mouths as it apparently is the law in Madeira that planes have to be disinfected to avoid the possibility that disease-carrying insects could be stowaways aboard.  I am struck by two things: the crew seem to spray the cabin without covering their eyes or mouths, and that we didn’t do this when we left Birmingham a week ago.  So, planes coming in can carry whatever, but those going out have to be fumigated.

 
Yes, there is a certain madness about Madeira, which ironically may derive from the name. When a ship full of jolly sailors from Portugal, pupils of Harry the Navvy, first set foot on this archipelago in 1419/20 they found it was covered in wood – Laurasilva (subtropical forest characterised by broadleaf trees with elongated, evergreen leaves, which may, or may not, include laurel).  In Portuguese the word for wood is madeira (from the Latin materia  material/timber/wood) so I guess it was a no-brainer to call this island Wood......  However, if you will forgive a stretch of etymological fun, wood in English at the time of this discovery also meant mad, or crazy.....  So it’s not hard to be (slightly) crazy about Madeira.....

 
This is my first visit.  My parents had visited many years ago and sang its praises.  I had long thought about making the journey, based on my received knowledge:  it was warm, floral and scenic.....  Research showed, however, that it was a long way away (it is about 500 miles south of Portugal, 300 miles west of Africa and 250 miles north of the Canaries) and also that getting around the island, despite its relatively small proportions (it is 35 miles long and 14 miles wide, with an area of 286 square miles) it is very mountainous, with ten peaks all taller than Ben Nevis, of which three are about 6,000 feet high.

The Angel of Madeira - Pico do Arieiro, 1,818 m
 
When Winston Churchill came here in January 1950, invited to stay at Reid’s Hotel as a marketing freebie, the island was struggling in the post-war doldrums.  In many ways he is still here, as his brief visit put the place on the tourist map, even though he had to rush back for a snap general election (on an Aquila Airways seaplane, 19 hours at an equivalent cost of £27K – I wonder who picked up that tab?)

 
When my parents visited, probably about the same time that Margaret Thatcher was unravelling here, people were still living in caves on the hillside above the capital Funchal (which, by the way, means Fennel) and the road system was a tortuous network of steep and winding narrow roads.  It is now a much-increased tortuous network of 125 miles of steep and winding slightly wider Vias Rápidas, with over 100 tunnels boring through some 50 miles of rock.  In the 20th century it would take 3 hours to drive from Funchal to Porto Moniz – it can now be done in 45 minutes.  

 
My visit is with a group of ‘solo’ travellers (generally speaking older people, quite a few of whom being solo through the same sad route that brought me here) organised by Riviera Travel.  We were very well, and kindly, looked after by Meryl, with a wonderful, knowledgeable local guide in Cristina, and the superb driving of Carlos.  If ever I return, I shall personally seek out Carlos again, as I wouldn’t dream of trying to pilot myself around the bends here, even though I have driven the Amalfi coast road, navigated Sicilian towns, and raced through the Dolomites....  Madeira is mad in many ways, and the roads contribute to this!

 
Prior to a trip I build up an image of wherever I am going from an assortment of sources – people who have already visited, guide books, the internet and sometimes TV. Very often I find that this image is fundamentally incorrect, or at least out of date. In the case of Madeira, my preconception was vague, but not entirely mistaken. It is warm, and mountainous, and has lots of gardens, with greenery, flowers and shrubs. Bananas and palm trees abound on the lower slopes. Sugar cane (once the main crop) grows here, and vineyards cling to the hillsides. The Laurasilva is much depleted, but it still gained UNESCO World Heritage Site status. In addition my visit is conveniently timed to coincide with extensive snowfalls, and Storm Bert, in the UK and it is great to find that the sea (which is the Atlantic Ocean) is warm enough to swim in, and that I generally only need to wear shorts and a T shirt.

 
I am, however, surprised at how sprawling Funchal is - I imagined something much more mature and contained.  The island population is just over 250K, with an average density of around 800 per square mile.  Just for comparison, the English Lake District (at 912 square miles, over three times the size of Madeira) has a population of around 40K and a density of 5.4 people per square mile.  However, the Lake District had about 18 million visitors in 2023 and Madeira had only about 2 million (half a million from Portugal, 340K from the UK and 325K from Germany all by air, and c600K who came in on cruise ships).  I don’t quite know why this makes Madeira seem so busy, but it is probably to do with the fact that so much of the island is uninhabitable.

 
It isn’t just the sprawl: there seems to be little in the way of characteristic, old-fashioned domestic building.  Elsewhere in Europe (Portugal and Italy being examples, but the Canaries another) you can come across villages with a nucleus of old houses around a church and a square, ancient and quaint, despite the inevitable spreads of concrete, hotels and such that also exist everywhere.  But here, although my visit is of course limited, parishes seem, generally, to be less concentrated and essentially more modern.  


Yes, I know the island was only settled in 1425, but that is six hundred years ago!  Somethings must be old?

One of a few wheat straw thatched houses in Santana
 
As for cruise ships, the least environmentally friendly way to see the world, while strolling in the Parque de Santa Catarina, overlooking the Port of Funchal, I am reminded of a picture one of my pupils once drew.  This was a long time ago, but I can see it now.  The young boy, who, I believe, had suffered some brain damage at birth, but who was charming and always keen, took a large piece of sugar paper and some chalks and was busy for a while.  Then, with great pride, he showed me his work.  On the paper was a circle, filled with white chalk, and around it was all grey.  ‘That’s great,’ I said.  ‘But what is it?’  He beamed, and told me in an excited voice that it was the QE2.  Trying not to dampen his enthusiasm, I suggested that he could have drawn a bit more of the ship.  ‘Oh no!’ he exclaimed, and stretching his arms out as wide as possible, he almost shouted, ‘The QE2 is that big!’ 


In 2023 a total of 624,400 cruise passengers and more than 241,042 crew members, on 279 ships, registered in the Port of Funchal, with eight ships here for the fireworks display on New Year’s Eve.

 

So, anyway, what do we do?  In a nutshell we explore Funchal, which includes sampling excellent Madeira wine, and some interesting food – Espada (Black Scabbard fish) 


and Lapas (limpets); swim in the sea and in specially constructed sea pools; climb the heights, including Cabo Girão 

Don't look down: Cabo Girão, 580m

and Pico do Arieiro:


 go to Porto Moniz in the west:


 and Machico and Santana in the east:


visit the gardens at Quinta do Palheiro (the home of the Blandy family, English wine merchants since 1808 and majority shareholder of Madeira Wine Company) 


and the Monte Palace Tropical Garden (as well as the nearby Church of Our Lady of the Mount, where Emperor Karl I of Austria – Beato Carlos de Habsburg -  who had secretly tried to negotiate an end to WWI in 1916, is buried) 

and finally spend time in Curral das Freiras (Nun’s Valley) 


Where I am struck by how very Madeiran Santa Chiara (St Francis's sister)


actually looked (if only she wore the habit):


and Câmara de Lobos (which was Churchill’s favourite spot). 

 
The scenery is spectacular.  Parts of the island are not unlike Teide, on Tenerife, with sharp formations of reddish lava (the archipelago is entirely of volcanic origin) eroded into deep ravines.  But it isn’t all dry – we arrived just after a storm and our last day was very windy and wet.  The island is criss-crossed with levadas – man-made channels that conduct water from the wettest parts to irrigate crops, power hydro-electric plants and to provide domestic drinking water.  


The mountains are frequently obscured by clouds, even though the south and west may be bathed in glorious sunshine.  There are no long stretches of sandy beaches (the best is at the neighbouring island of Porto Santo) though there are bays with black pebble or sand.  The sea can be fearfully rough, smashing against the piers and rocks with massive force, 


though when it is calm it is wonderful to swim in deep (it gets to 10,000 feet deep near the island), clear water.  Just watch out for jellyfish......


 
The light is great - rain or shine.  Whether at the coast:


Or in the gardens:



In the morning:



Or later in the day:


Our hotel is full of character (Are you sure? Ed):



As is our bus (Shome mistake?  Ed):



The natural world, as ever, is fascinating.  Here, clinging to a brittle cliff, is a Francelho, or Canarian Kestrel:


And the human world is full of character too, whether formal:


Informal:


Or professional:



All the people we meet are very friendly and most speak English, which is a real bonus as Portuguese is not an easy language to pick up (I know – I have tried.  Ed).  Listening in to a conversation is like hearing several languages scrambled into one, with the majority of words sounding a little like rhubarbo cushstarda neow said very fast.  

An interesting fact is that the average age of the population of Madeira is just over 45 years.  According to CRAP (the Centre for Reasonably Approximate Percentages) the average age of visitors to Madeira is 72 – which makes me, I am proud to say, just above average (For once. Ed).

 
On my last morning, I am shown round Blandy’s Wine Lodge by Daniela, 


who kindly teaches me Madeiran etiquette (and into the bargain furnishes me with me two glasses of joy) .....  And then I pay my respects to Cristiano Ronaldo, Madeira’s most famous son. 


I have never really forgiven Ronald (he was named after Ronald Reagan.... It is true!) for his brilliant free kick goal against Portsmouth (my home town) during the 2007/08 Premier League season, but he is decent enough to invite me for a poncha tradicional in his favourite bar in Câmara de Lobos 


(even though he doesn’t drink himself) ..... But, unfortunately, I am a bit late, and he had to jet back to his family in Saudi, so......  Next time.... Siiuuu!  [Is that ‘See you!’ Ed?]

 
So, having been fumigated on the tarmac, our flight back is insect free.   A farewell touch of Madeira madness came with us, however, as in row 39 a young man is celebrating having made the Guinness Book of Records by circumnavigating Madeira, in a pedalo!  Surely one of the crazier ways to travel 100 miles in the middle of the Atlantic!  [As it happens this turns out to be a merry jest.....  Which just goes to add to the madness that surrounds Madeira! Ed]

 
And then we land.  Birmingham is dark and cold, and the two-and-a-half-hour drive home is cold and dark.  My house is cold.  And dark.  I feel a (dark) cold coming on and crawl into bed. It is cold.  It is dark.  I miss having a Coral beer watching the sun sink towards Brazil.

 
I need a holiday.....  
 
Now where is nice and warm?


Madeira, Das ilhas, as mais belas e livres

*****

With very many thanks to Meryl, Cristina and Carlos (and the rest of the gang) 

Without whom I would be very lost.....