Blog by best-selling author Olga Swan: 2021

26th December 2021

Struggling at the moment. For a few days my mouth felt a bit strange, which I put down to the after-effects of recent dental work. Friday morning my right eye felt sore and gritty. But I had a meal to prepare as we had friends coming round for dinner yesterday. So I swallowed an aspirin and rushed around the kitchen, cooking up a storm. Made a challah, chicken soup with kneidlach and lokshen, turkey roll marinaded with turmeric, garlic and paprika and cooked in white wine and chicken stock - with sprouts and roast potatoes. Everyone said the meal was great. All fine except the right side of my face dropped, the lower eyelid had drooped and my mouth was numb on the right side. I looked in the mirror and tried to smile but only the left side of my mouth lifted. First thought: panic. Maybe I’d had a stroke. But I can put my tongue out straight and the rest of the right side of my body is fine. Xmas day. You can’t get a doctor on a normal day. Fast forward. I’m 100 % sure it’s Bell’s palsy, which hopefully will improve in a few weeks. And, what do I read in a recent British Medical Journal? They’ve found a link between the Pfizer jab (which I had 10 days ago) and Bell’s Palsy!! Let’s hope 2022 is better.

19th December 2021

Today would have been my late mother Thora’s 111th birthday. What would she have made of today’s chaotic world? So many stupidities. At restaurants, diners wear masks until their meals arrive, then take them off to eat. Clearly, the virus goes away when we eat. The world is being ruled, not by elected leaders, but by scientists. How much longer are we going to continue to hide away from an invisible virus? I foolishly thought that now we’ve all had two jabs and a booster, normal life would return, with our own natural immunity plus the vaccines protecting us from serious illness. How long before it’s mandatory to have booster no. 99? I grow exasperated about how the virus and its ever evolving variants have ruined the whole world, maybe for ever. And yet no-one has held the originating country to account for what, to me, is the likely cause - a lab researcher’s gross incompetence. Worry free enjoyment of life has gone and no-one can plan happy future events with any confidence any more. Yet, what are we in the UK complaining about? A Xmas party 12m ago, when rumour has it the other political Parties had similar ones but no-one recorded them! Oh well, as 2022 approaches, I must somehow soldier on. Happy birthday Thora.

12th December 2021

Watching the current government wrangles over an alleged Xmas party which happened 12 months ago, I couldn’t believe it. When we lived in France, there were many differences between life there and in the UK. On the political front, even though I read the French papers and watched French TV news, I was struck by one major difference: we never heard any blow-by-blow accounts of what happens in the Elysee Palace. There was no equivalent to the English weekly live TV comedy hour, called Prime Minister’s Question Time, nor any insider ‘leaks’ of juicy Government gossip to the tabloids. Whenever President Macron appeared on TV, his speeches were always well-prepared, his suits and hair immaculate. In my view, we in this country must stop this constant need to ‘show our sore toe’ on prime-time live TV, in full colour, to the rest of the world. I don’t see that happening anywhere else. It’s time we as a country grew up, discussed government legislation in private, and presented a more balanced and coherent UK stance to the media and the world at large. Our image on the world stage is vital. Time we recognised that and stopped ‘washing us dirty linen in public’ as they say in Yorkshire. It’s long overdue.

5th December 2021

As I contemplate yet another birthday tomorrow, I think about my long journey... I was born two years after the end of WWII. My father was still away with the army, my mother at home alone. No NHS, doctors too expensive, so my mother had to bang on the party wall to alert Mrs S next door when I was about to be born. Winters were harsh and we were poor. Cold lino on the floor, and coats on beds. No-one in our road had a car, so I would run out into the street every time a car went by. No phone. No TV until I was ten, then a rental. Central heating was unheard of, every house having an open fireplace. Coal was delivered by grimy men, who lugged heavy sacks to each house before emptying them, in a cloud of toxic fumes, into the coal bunker along the entry. At five, I walked a mile to school and back, on my own. One house I passed had a bowl of fruit in the window. I couldn’t understand why, if they had such exotic items, they were displaying it instead of eating it. So many changes in my life since then as home comforts improved and technology arrived. And internally, the extreme introversion from my mother gradually morphed into the extrovert style of my father. What a journey…

21st November 2021

We are on high ground here, near the Lickey Hills, so snow is still piled up outside the door. Hasn’t reached Maine levels but at my time of life I’m loathe to struggle out and risk slipping on the ice. A few weeks ago I suffered a bad dental experience as well as a suspected damaged spleen and was feeling sorry for myself. So, I started what I told myself I wouldn’t do: write my 13th book. It’s a way of taking yourself away from the physical present, allowing writers to not only inhabit a dreamlike world, explore another time and exotic countries, but also to tackle issues which need highlighting in today’s world. So, laptop at the ready, using ancient touch-typing skills learned a hundred years ago, I explored a topic and places I haven’t written about before. What spurred me on was watching a documentary on TV. Sometimes in life, there’s a previously-unexplored situation, involving people who are relatively unknown but who have performed miracles. Time they were acknowledged. So, let the snow fall. I’m busy…

21st November 2021

There’s been much in the news about increasing numbers of migrants crossing the Channel from France - 1000 in a single day earlier this month. And yet, a century ago my own paternal grandfather, fleeing murderous pogroms in Lithuania, was thankfully welcomed into the UK. An important point here, therefore, is that the migrants crossing from France, unlike my grandfather, were already in a safe country (France) so the question is: why? For anyone who’s read Pensioners in Paradis (see right), it’s obvious. Unlike Britain, France is a country which relies on bureaucracy. It’s essential today for all French residents to have ID (to show the police), a carte de sejour and a carte vitale (to secure health services), but they are very difficult to obtain. It took us ages. Without such essentials, everything’s closed to you. Also, during Covid lockdown, you couldn’t leave the house in France without a completed police form stating where you were going and why. In contrast, here in Britain there’s no ID, no health card, nor right-to-live-here documentation. So, is it any wonder that migrants who are already in a safe country risk life and limb to cross the Channel from France?

14th November 2021

A big chill is coming. The last members of the Glasgow Cop26 knees-up have now departed on their private jets. “The end of coal is in sight,” said Alok Sharma. But 2 countries were notable by their absence. China and Russia. The coal declaration was not signed by the top 3 coal consumers: China, India and the US, who account for 70% of global CO2 emissions. Hypocrisy everywhere. The US was observed liaising with the UAE to increase oil production. Meantime the UK’s push to instal solar panels ignores the fact that China produce them using coal! And if the UK continues to discourage BP, Shell etc from investing in more oil and gas, from where are we going to source such commodities that the public demand? Russia and Saudi Arabia! So, our hard won economic stability is being transferred eastwards. And me? Yes, there is global warming; yes, man is contributing CO2 into the atmosphere; but I believe the major cause of global warming is the regular (every billion years or so) planetary shift, which in the past caused the Ice Age. I suspect it’s already starting to shift the Gulf Stream, as our weather’s getting like Maine. Warm summers, and heavy snow is forecast….

7th November 2021

Explosions still reverberated outside last night, live explosives inexplicably freely sold to the general public here. Fitting really, as we watched the first two episodes of Valley of Tears on channel More4, the magnificent Israeli drama about the 6 day war. For once I didn’t mind the subtitles, the story was so compelling. It even included actual footage of General Dayan and PM Golda Meir as they broadcast to the nation during the 1967 hostilities. It took my mind back to why I included a chapter about the conflict in The Meleke Stone. As fictional Dov Cohen says to his men on the eve of war: “Israelis only ever fight when attacked. We’re not interested in aggression unless sorely provoked. All our people have ever wanted is to be left in peace on our own tiny bit of land. But today, as usual, yet another aggressor’s on the horizon proclaiming aloud their sole intention to annihilate us.” A question to the rest of the world: what would your country do if continually attacked by a consortium of surrounding states, vowing your extinction? Well, after WWII and being herded silently to the gas chambers by yet another enemy, there’s only one thing the Israelis can do: stand up, be strong and - when attacked - fight back to defend themselves.

31st October 2021

Today representatives from every nation on earth have jetted to Glasgow, in the wake of enormous fuel emissions, for a climate conference where they all agree that man is totally to blame for global warming. Yet, climatology is complex. When I was born in 1947 England, December saw snow piled high and people skated on rivers. Scientists then warned of a new ice age. But that couldn’t be blamed on industry because most CO2 emissions then were small. And what caused the ice age billions of years ago, long before man? Most believe that the causes were the movement of continents and volcanism. So, as world leaders jet in, smug like children that there’s only one reason for today’s climate change, ask them what caused the ice age before man and industry appeared on earth? None can answer. What then should they debate today? Forget dismantling all of the improvements introduced during the industrial revolution and discuss how to move people away from danger areas like coasts, rivers, volcanoes etc and build/renovate all buildings on climate-resistant sticks, high above the ground.

24th October 2021

Watching the Carol Drinkwater programme A Year in Provence brought it all back. As described in my best-selling, comic memoir Pensioners in Paradis (click image on the right), there’s a lot to be said for living in France - not least the sunshine and le bien manger. But, and it’s a big but, I learned some painful lessons over the 12 years we lived there. Don’t confuse capital from the sale of your UK house with income. Don’t expect to earn enough to live on, especially from renting out a gîte. It’s very hard work, soul-destroying and relentless. Don’t create an English clique. It’s not a holiday club but the rest of your life. Even if you speak the language fluently, in general the French won’t warm to you and rarely invite you into their homes. By nature, the French are fermé (closed). If you’re a pensioner, think carefully whether you wish to be buried there, where few will visit your grave. Returning to the UK takes a lot of energy and effort, so if you think this is likely at some point, or if one of you suddenly becomes disabled/in a wheelchair, do it whilst you’re still fit enough. Carol Drinkwater married a rich Frenchman, instantly integrating her and removing most of the obstacles. Most of us don’t and suffer the consequences.

17th October 2021

As promised, the main points of the speech I made at the book launch of The Meleke Stone:

“As a writer I have to deal with many questions. The most common is How do you write a novel? My answer: write about what you know. That way it comes over as more realistic. As I started to write The Meleke Stone, therefore, my thoughts flew back to when we used to attend a synagogue in Toulouse. One day after the service, a male congregant came over and asked me why I wrote in the name of Olga Swan. Wanting to impress him I said that the name was an anagram of my late brother (A. Olswang): my way of remembering him. But there was a pause before the man asked me how long I’d lived in France. I was puzzled but told him. He then said Don’t you yet know that the name Olga here means a lady of ill repute, a streetwalker! I was shocked. Maybe I should have called myself EL James instead. I already have 50 shades of grey in my hair! Back home in Birmingham, there were more questions. How did I choose my current book cover? Local bookshops seem to stock a plethora of wartime novels, all featuring scenes of rubble plus a young, attractive girl wearing - for some strange reason - a red, expensive coat, looking far too clean for the surroundings and make-up that’s far too modern for the era depicted. I’m pretty sure they didn’t have liquid eyeliner in the war. So I didn’t want such an unrealistic image on my cover. Then I thought Well, my story’s about Israel so maybe I should use an image of Jerusalem, but the cover ended up looking like a glossy travel brochure. So, in the end, I thought ‘less is more’ so I chose an image of a wall of meleke stone representing Herod’s Temple, with two ancient keys with Roman heads. The subheading pointed the way to the storyline: Survival is the eternal key. I didn’t want to write an academic non-fiction book because I wanted to interest the ordinary reader - so it had to be a novel. My challenge was to counter antisemitism by writing an enthralling story but wrapped around the real, true historical facts about the Jewish people and the land of Israel. I’d like to now read a few pages from the start of the novel. A bomb has just exploded in a Toulouse synagogue and Moshe, a Holocaust survivor, is on his way there unaware of what’s going to happen….

Before this lady of ill-repute bows out, thank you everyone and (turning to my good friend Graham Stone) ‘Graham, perhaps you should call your future granddaughter Anna Meleke - then she will be A MELEKE STONE!

10th October 2021

Yesterday I found myself in the hall where my teenage life began. My mind flew back to the youth club I attended in the early ‘60s at the age of 13. Along each side of the room was a line of chairs, boys one side, girls the other. On the stage was a record player where the Shirelles were singing Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow. Strange how a place can evoke such strong memories. I shook my head and tried to focus on the coming week as, glass of kiddush wine in hand, I chatted to the other people present. Would they like to come to my book launch of THE MELEKE STONE on Tuesday evening in that very hall, where I’ll be donating the proceeds to a community care home? The message in my novel is so important. Only last week a German hotel, of all places, asked a man to remove his star of David necklace before checking in. Can you believe that? No other innocent, kindly people have had to suffer wave after wave of attacks over 4000 years. It simply has to stop for good. I’ll let you know next Sunday how the book launch goes. Let’s hope they’ll all still love me tomorrow…

3rd October 2021

Today is 11 years since my eldest brother Robert died. I wonder what he would have made of today’s crazy world. Not for him travelling the world. He refused to get a passport. Not for him a driving licence. He never learned to drive nor cook - he had no cooker in the house - so today’s fuel crisis/food shortages/lorry driver paucity would have passed him by. Every day he took the bus into town and ate his main meal in Rackham’s cafeteria. No mobile phone/computer for him nor did he ever use the direct debit/credit facilities at his bank; just a cheque book. As a bill became due, he’d write a cheque. He kept no paper records at all. At his death, his house was scrupulously clean, devoid of anything other than furniture and a few clothes. His neighbours loved him. He was always very kind to everyone. I wonder what he would have made of the Labour Party conference last week. He certainly wouldn’t have approved of the deputy party leader’s very public use of the word “scum” regarding the government. Like me, he expected our leaders to be well-educated and polite. RIP Robert. We could all learn a lot from him.

26th September 2021

So now it’s a massive shortage of lorry drivers. Cars are snaking around the block near every petrol station. Soon, we’re told, there’ll be empty supermarket shelves. “I remember people pushing full trolley loads of loo rolls,” said one woman on the news, not realising that the people buying so many loo rolls back then were almost certainly small shopkeepers unable to secure supplies from their usual wholesaler! Listening to truck drivers on BBC local radio, it’s clear what’s causing much of the problem: very low pay, appalling conditions (no water/loos in their cabs), having to sleep in their lorry overnight, being forced to attend, at their own cost, useless mandatory training courses - in some cases after having been in the job for 40+ years, no younger drivers being recruited etc. Driver conditions in the EU are apparently far superior. In a panic, Boris has introduced 5000 temporary lorry driver visas for EU applicants. My urgent suggestion to all UK truck companies: improve pay, truck facilities and conditions immediately, at least to EU standards, so that recruitment becomes attractive enough to interest younger UK drivers. And for the rest of us - amidst erupting volcanoes, global warming and pandemics - when’s the world gonna return to normal?

19th September 2021

In May, new ‘smart’chargers in the home will be required to only work in off peak periods for electric cars, in order to stop the electric grid failing nationwide. So how will that work if your car runs out of juice outside of these hours, eg when you’re in a rush to meet an urgent appointment that’s just cropped up? And don’t get me started on other issues like what happens if you live in a high rise flat or have to park in different places every night, sometimes streets away! Just how long will the cables be? Hazardous for pedestrians/wheelchairs/pushchairs? What if your e-car breaks down/runs out of charge on one of those dangerous smart motorways - the ones with no hard shoulder ? I imagine that the RAC, if they turn up, would need an enormous trailer with an equally large generator, whilst the driver would be waiting in a vulnerable live lane. And don’t even mention if your e-car gets flooded or in a crash, whilst you’re sitting on that giant, expensive battery. Electrocution, fire?? Also, a new e-car battery, required every few years I understand, will cost a staggering £8k.TG in 10 years time when all petrol/diesal cars in the UK are banned, I’ll be too old to drive anyway.

12th September 2021

It took two teenagers yesterday to show the world what emotional maturity means…

Twenty years since 9/11. But as New Yorkers gathered at the memorial yesterday and gazed down into the still waters, the reflection in many minds was not of peace and calm, but of anger. The recent withdrawal of allied forces from Afghanistan has achieved the very opposite of its purpose. All it did was delay the inevitable: the strengthening of the terrorist group who murdered thousands. The clash between the free, democratic way of life in the West and strictly-controlled, repressive regimes is contrasted every day via international media outlets. If life in the latter regimes is so prized, why aren’t people in their thousands clamouring to emigrate there? The truth, of course, is the very opposite, as evidenced by the daily boat-loads of poor people desperately seeking a better life on these Western shores. History records countless times when one tribe ‘childishly’ attacks another people simply because their way of life is different (e.g. The Meleke Stone). Time to call a halt before it’s too late. Recognise and accept our differences so that we can all move forward in peace.

……Game, set and match to both Emma and Leylah. That’s how you deal with each other.

5th September 2021

Watching the England match held in Budapest on Thursday night was an example of how two different cultures have evolved. It was noticeable how the Hungarian players and their visible fans were all Caucasian, compared to an England team of mixed racial ethnicity. The booing at the start when the English players ‘took the knee’ set the scene, followed by the Hungarian fans chanting and throwing missiles against the English black players. It was very clear that the enormous strides achieved against racist attitudes in the west have still not been achieved by many in eastern Europe, despite Hungary being a member of the EU. It makes me realise that the reason so many things went catastrophically wrong in my own life was because I did not talk to people enough, creating misunderstandings and incorrect interpretations of my attitude. That’s why I wrote The Meleke Stone, to highlight not just how the peoples of the Middle East should get together more, but as a catalyst to show other warring peoples how to show brotherhood to each other. We already have to fight global viruses and natural disasters together, so why not racism too? As the moon rises tomorrow night, the year 5782 begins for the Jewish people. Bringing people together around the world really would be a wonderful global portent for the year ahead.

29th August 2021

I’ve been watching the fascinating Undercover Boss, where every week the owner of a big conglomerate disguises himself whilst working amongst his more lowly employees. It’s amazing what the boss learns working under cover, seeing the other side of the coin. But then comes the best bit: seeing the workers’ faces when the boss reveals himself, corrects all the wrongs in the workplace, and then rewards deserving staff. That’s what’s wrong in the wider world: everyone sees only their own interpretation of what’s wrong. So many individuals display a deep feeling of injustice caused by ‘others’, who all seem to have what they haven’t. So, what’s the solution? Should we all live in a global commune then, where equal amounts of money are handed out in an equitable system? Sounds like something of which Karl Marx might have approved, yet it was he who said the only way forward was by “revolutionary terror”. So that’s no good. We all want peace, not war. Back to square one then. And me? I’ve learned from the Undercover Boss programme. Empathy is all important. Try to put yourself in others’ shoes and do small things to help those in need. Only then can we understand the ills of this world and come together.

22nd August 2021

Flaming August. Typical non-stop rain here. So, to cheer myself up, I wondered whether a hop over the pond was feasible, especially as our son’s due to have a big birthday next year. But first, I must check our passports. After reading several FB posts on the subject, I discovered that both our passports were already out of date. I knew about the 6 month rule but you actually have to ignore the expiry date - in our case April 2022 - and go by the issue date, which was December 2011! What’s the point of giving you an expiry date then? Good job I discovered all this in time. Imagine if we’d turned up at LHR, only to be sent away again. The good news, though, is that you can now renew a British passport entirely online, including the photos. However, it has to be a recent photo, without glasses, and for me no hiding behind gauze or taken in candlelight! And every time you get it wrong, the system tells you ‘horrible, do it again.’ But I didn’t look any better after 10 attempts. Ah, the traumas of being an older woman. Him indoors, though, had his accepted first time. Typical. And then came the cost. Once you add in the price of secure delivery, it came to a horrifying £80 each! Sorry son. It might have to be Margate next year instead….

15th August 2021

A difficult week. I’ve gone the gamut of feeling completely worthless, from the lows of feeling everything I write is a waste of time, to feelings of personal rejection by everyone, and on to the nadir of ‘what’s the point’ syndrome. But then came Thursday. Not normally a day I relish. Everything bad in my childhood seemed to happen on that day of the week. When grandma went missing and we got that phone call from Belgrave Road police station, it was Thursday. Ever since that day, we eyed that heavy black telephone, with its twisted brown cord, with fear and trepidation. And when the infernal thing jarred us awake, especially on a Thursday, no-one wanted to answer because we knew what would lie behind the sweaty listening piece. Yet more bad news. Even today, when our fixed line rings or my iphone hums its tune, I feel sick with dread. But last Thursday we’d been invited to a lunch club. Would have been churlish to refuse just because of some foolish childhood angst, so we went. I’m so glad we did. Diners there looked genuinely interested in me and my writing. Readers were buying my book. One was even interested enough to ask how, with my latest novel, alternate pages were headed with author name on each left-hand page, title on the right, and how I’d found the cover image. My answer: a professional formatter, of course. I couldn’t have done it. Thank you Mr Interested. You just might have buried my Thursday syndrome once and for all. Will let you know next Thursday….

8th August 2021

When I first started as a writer, I just let my imagination flow wherever it wanted to go. So, along the way, ten books were published in an eclectic array of genres, three of which were non-fiction. But recently, my views have changed. When I look down today’s Sunday Times best-seller lists, nothing really catches my eye as being worthy. A motley collection of crime/thriller/celebrity books, here today, gone tomorrow. As an avid world news follower, I’ve long wanted some of the wrongs to be tackled. As far as racism is concerned, and in particular anti-semitism, I waited and waited for someone to write about it. Of course there’ve been many academic tomes written by excellent authors such as Schama, Montefiore and the like. But what was needed was a novel aimed at ordinary people, something with a powerful message wrapped up in an engrossing story. So, I decided to write it myself. The Meleke Stone is now born, via a traumatic publishing journey, but now available via the icon on the right. I simply want racism to stop for good. Below is a copy of the novel’s Author Note, giving further justification for its genesis.

“..Author’s Note

So, the foregoing story is the culmination of a project I have been working towards all my life. I wanted to write an enthralling, engrossing narrative but with a serious moral behind it. By bringing together two fictitious characters from different ethnicities, one Jewish, the other an Egyptian Muslim - conflating their alternative personal histories and previous mindsets about each other – the story leads them to a lifelong friendship.

I built on the knowledge I learned at first hand when living in Toulouse, France, over a twelve year period. In so doing I was able to give my characters a shared, common background in being expelled from their original homelands and struggling to establish a new life in a different country.

By researching the true, peer-reviewed, archaeological evidence which substantiates the rights of the Jewish people to return to the land of Israel – from whence they’ve been ousted countless times by wave after wave of different tribes over four thousand years - I’ve attempted to alleviate much heartache in the world and draw on man’s similarities rather than perceived differences.

I hope I’ve succeeded, not for any personal reasons, but on behalf of all the Jewish people in the world who are crying out for justice and to put a stop to all the passed-down inaccuracies and hurtful personal parodies that continue to this day. All the Jewish people have ever wanted is to live in peace in their own, tiny piece of land.

That’s why I wrote the poem at the novel’s conclusion. Its message is important enough to repeat again here. That was my single, most urgent rationale for writing this book. Let’s hope it does some good in the world so that, whatever colour, faith or creed people espouse, we can all live in peace and brotherhood with each other.

At early morn’ I had a dream

that man would cease his futile scheme

Blazing battles, suicide missions

Murder, hatred, crazed seditions

Plumb the depths, re-appraise

Be none so blind, none so fazed

Halt the fight, tribe v tribe

Suffused with hate and diatribe

But see with eyes afresh from birth

We’re all one tribe – that of Earth

Olga Swan

2021……”

1 August 2021

When I was 11, I was quite good at the high jump (scissor style) until, for no reason, I suddenly became frightened of the landing. I couldn’t compete after that, so understand the feelings of that US gymnast. But I’ve always been fascinated by how different body shapes do well in certain events. The thin Ethiopians, for example, always perform well at long-distance running whilst the Jamaicans excel at the 100m. When I worked at a university, a physiologist showed me how ‘fast-twitch’ muscles are always best suited for sprinting or strength sports. Do black athletes who have this type of muscle, then, have an unfair advantage? Similarly, should very tall basket ball players be disqualified, or Caucasian swimmers penalised with their more wiry body physiques? Where do you draw the line? But my biggest gripe is the female gymnast/beach ball/athletics outfits. One long-jumper, after the event, was quietly advised to wear longer shorts because of inadvertent indecent exposure. Alarmingly, instead of thanking the female judge, she lodged a formal complaint! No excuse why they can’t follow the lead of the female swimmers and footballers, whose outfits are similar to those of the males. No need to do the high jump looking like a pole dancer!

25th July 2021

The on-off Olympics in Tokyo finally started, with our team GB cyclist Thomas falling off his bike yesterday. Like in the football Euros, all seems par for the course, so I took a look at the news instead. I read that all internal combustion engines in the UK are to become extinct in 2030. Madness. A date but with no plan. How will the millions living in high rise flats here, or those having to park streets away, charge up their vehicles? What happens when you run out of juice on the M40? Can’t see the AA arriving with a giant generator in tow. And how will the national grid produce enough electricity for this enormous increase in demand when power cuts are notoriously frequent already? How will the government generate replacement funds for the lost £28 billion p.a. received from fuel taxes? In Bham in the ‘50s, we had thick yellow smog from coal burning factories, so why is the world allowing a large country like China to be not only highly reliant on coal but to develop a further 247 gigawatts of coal fired energy? What’s the point of tiny Britain going green when another, much larger, country is blasting all that smog into the atmosphere? So, will I be getting an electric car? Like Olympian Thomas, I’ll just have to get on my bike…

Post supplemental 2

In the post below is an extract from The Meleke Stone, shared from my FB page. Now, here’s another extract - exclusively for my Blog readers. Enjoy!

“…

St. Antonin 2020

SAMI WAS FEELING delirious. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. His head was pounding and the bed was soaked. Every time he moved his head from the pillow, he was consumed with coughing, which wouldn’t stop.

He couldn’t ask his mother for help, as the whole family had gone down to Toulouse to visit that stupid old friend of his father’s.What the hell did his father think he was doing anyway, acting all friendly with a Jewish family?

On a whim, he grabbed his cell phone and tried to call Seth, so that they could laugh together about the stupid things old people get up to. But, Sami was surprised to hear Seth’s mother’s voice on the other end, explaining that No, Seth couldn’t answer because he wasn’t at all well. She said she’d get him to call Sami as soon as he felt better.

Flopping back on his pillow, Sami mulled over his life and how everything seemed to be going wrong.An English tune was buzzing through his head. Why does it always rain on me? It exactly matched his thoughts. Maybe friend Ali in Toulouse could cheer him up. He jabbed at his contact list, eventually reaching Seth’s friend, the one who had helped them with their project. But the call sound eventually finished, no-one having picked up.

So, in disgust, Sami threw his phone onto the bed and with difficulty struggled to the bathroom. Tugging the large wash bag towards him, which contained the cheap, generic medicines that his mother picked up from the pharmacie, he scrabbled inside until he found some paracetamol. Swallowing down a few tablets in quick succession, in the vain hope that they would make him feel better, he washed them down with a glass of cola. He never drank water from the tap anyway and the cola was at least palatable.

Hours later, Sami woke up. His bed was even more drenched before. No-one there. The family must still be in Toulouse, his fevered brain surmised. What to do? His head was hot, he felt weak and his damned cough just wouldn’t stop, making his chest hurt. No point calling his local médecine traitant doctor at that time of night, and in any case he never made house calls.

Eventually, there was no other option. He felt too ill to care, so he grabbed his cell phone and jabbed 121. His head fell back on the pillow as he put the device onto speaker phone.

“Allo.You have reached SAMU.What is your emergency?”

With an immense effort, Sami turned his head towards the phone. “Uh, I’m ill and my family are all out. Can you help?”

After establishing the nature of his call, his full name, address, and carte vitale details, they agreed to send an ambulance. “Please make sure you’re wearing a face covering,” was the last thing he remembered before falling into another deep sleep.

Hammering on the door woke him. His head feeling even worse, Sami managed to stumble towards the front door. A blue light was flashing through the window. People wearing blue PPE overalls, head coverings, face masks and visors met his startled gaze. “What on earth...?”

“Can you walk, Monsieur?” asked the alien at the front of the group…..”

To read more, click the book icon on the right which will take you to your country’s Amazon buy page.

I look forward to receiving your review in due course.

Post supplemental 1

What you’ve all been waiting for: an exclusive extract from The Meleke Stone, an original novel of adventure, crime, ancient history and brotherhood:

“…A man in Egyptian army uniform lay at the side of the road, his hands bloodied, his legs positioned at a crazy angle. But there were signs of life. His team leader was right. The Egyptian’s eyes kept fluttering open and closed involuntarily, as he lay in the sweltering heat.

Quickly, Dov reached under the prostrate man’s armpits and pulled him sideways towards some bushes growing along the route.This would afford him some measure of shade whilst Dov checked for his vital signs. He pulled out of his top uniform pocket a small mirror which he held to the man’s mouth. The glass fogged up. Now signalling to his team, together they lifted the casualty up and into the back of the tank where one of their medics could assess his injuries.

Dov unscrewed the cap of a small phial he always carried and, lifting up the man’s head, he poured a few drops of brandy through his parched lips. Dov knew that in normal times, the man probably didn’t drink alcohol. But, as with the Jewish religion, he suspected that in times of trouble, the pursuit of life supersedes all other considerations. Coughing, the man managed to swallow the fiery elixir before dropping into unconsciousness again….”

Want to read more? Click on the book icon on the right.

18th July 2021

Is Boris right to abandon Covid restrictions from tomorrow? It’s ironic that, on the eve of restrictions lifting, the new Health Secretary has tested positive. The NHS is the same age as me, so who’s learned the most over the last 73 years? I get the feeling that GPs never want to return to face-to-face examinations, after months of dealing with the far easier practice of telephone consultations. After all, why should they have to physically examine an insalubrious old person? But, now that the nation’s been double vaccinated, the talk is all about herd immunity, and why not? Parents may no longer be giving their children ‘disease parties’ (as happened in the ‘40s) but today - unlike Israel or Holland - the Covid vaccine is not being offered to children because only two in a million of them have died from it. So, to all the nay-sayers, if not tomorrow, when? We’ll never be free of this Chinese virus and I note that double-vaccinated Mr Javid’s only mildly affected. So, at my grand old age, I say: vaccinate everyone, tell mild (vaccinated) sufferers to go to bed, get GPs physically examining patients again, stop sending children and teachers home from school, wear a mask if you want to, but above all - get back to work!

11th July 2021

Are you singing Sweet Caroline.....

Last night, as we awaited tonight’s football final, in typical English fashion BBC1 was showing Churchill’s Darkest Hour! One of my favourite films. The thing that struck me the most, in both film and the tournament, is the unity right across England. It isn’t just that we’re so fed up with long term enforced isolation. It’s more than that. In the semi-final, when I looked at the Wembley crowds, English fans from every ethnicity were linking arms with one another and singing in ONE voice. Rich/poor/young/old/Churchill/Halifax, it didn’t matter. United against a common ‘enemy’. On Wednesday it was Denmark; tonight Italy. Of course, once the football’s over, we’ll need to find another reason to come together. In my novel The Meleke Stone, a Jewish man and an Egyptian Muslim become friends, recognising what they have in common: their individual sufferings. That’s what everyone in England needs to do.

....So, whatever the result tonight may be, we should join with Neil Diamond and sing: “...reaching out, touching me touching you.....good times never seemed so good..”. Come on England!

4 July 2021 Supplemental

A fellow writer, Jo Fenton, has kindly hosted me on her blog. Thought you might like to read some of my inner thoughts on why I write:

Jo Fenton

Author

Why I write

I grew up in the 1950s in a Jewish family traumatised by what happened during the war. As the third child, and the only girl in the family, for a long time I was very introverted. My only release was reading and, later, putting pen to paper myself. I was always affected by the unfairnesses in life, and eventually this feeling transmuted into my books.

When I wrote my wartime trilogy (Lamplight, Vichyssoise and The Mazurek Express) about a Birmingham Jewish reporter sent to Germany, Vichy France and then to Warsaw, I felt the need to highlight all the suffering meted out to innocent civilians by the Nazis.

Along the way, my writing also encompassed my inherited (Ashkenazi) love of dry humour, evidenced by my successful non-fiction books Pensioners in Paradis and An Englishwoman in America.

But still I retained the gnawing need to do more. For 70+ years I had waited and waited for someone to redress the balance in favour of the Jewish people. Daily I kept reading in social media and in the news about increasing signs of antisemitism around the world. But no-one seemed to be doing much about it. So I decided to do it myself!

Yesterday I launched my new novel The Meleke Stone. You can read more about it on Jo’s Thursday Themes feature later this week.

Buy link: mybook.to/meleke.

About the book:

A meleke stone from the ancient plains of the Dead Sea is passed down by generations of females through four thousand years.

In 2019 Sami, the son of Egyptian immigrants in Toulouse, is traumatised by the family’s hardships in France and plots revenge. Menes, Sami’s father from Cairo, had emigrated to France in search of peace. An unlikely friendship forms with Holocaust-survivor Moshe, each recognising their past struggles.

Suddenly, a terrorist bomb explodes in a Toulouse synagogue. Moshe asks his son, Simon, to produce a film showing the true history of his people from the time of Sodom and Gomorrah. What will happen to Moshe’s and Menes’ special relationship when an intrepid French detective’s efforts to find the terrorist reveal the horrifying truth? In a soul-searching conclusion in Jerusalem, having no female descendant to whom to give the meleke stone, there’s only one thing that Simon can do to maintain the survival of his people for all eternity.

…..are you ready for the four thousand year journey of the meleke stone?”

Follow the story as it moves between Toulouse, Warsaw, Cairo and through to Jerusalem. Read the historical truths about Sodom and Gomorrah, the Maccabees and what happened during the Six-Day War in the Sinai. But above all, recognise the lifelong friendship between a Jewish man and an Egyptian Muslim. Enjoy!

About the Author:

Olga has a B.A. Hons. (Open) in English language and literature. For many years she worked at The University of Birmingham, following which she spent twelve years living in S.W. France before returning to Birmingham in 2017. She has had 7 books (3 NF) published by indie publisher Crooked Cat Books, which has now closed. Three of Olga’s works are narrative non-fiction, one of which (Pensioners in Paradis) is approaching one million pages read and is already a four-times international best-seller. A 2nd edition of this and of An Englishwoman in America have now been reprinted. Three novels form a series set in wartime Germany, France and Poland. Dunoon Assassin moves between NY, Dunoon and Amritsar.

Blog: olgaswan.blogspot.com. Written every Sunday for 13 years with hundreds of regular readers each week from around the world.

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B013IBD4PU/ref=nodl_

Twitter: @olgaolgaswan

FB: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100009512231796

Instagram: olgaswan8459

https://linktr.ee/OlgaSwan

Here’s Jo’s own blog link, to find out more about her and her fine novels: https://jofenton137.com/2021/07/04/why-i-write-olga-swan/

4th July 2021

American independence day. Regular readers of this blog will know I often highlight the differences between them and us. Americans are taught at kindergarten to love and respect their country. The English aren’t. Yesterday, in the build-up to the big match, I even read on FB the comments of one English person from Bath who wrote that he hates the English and was going to support Ukraine! And yet, look what happened. England 4, Ukraine 0. Looking at the crowd scenes, it was the nearest I’ve seen to English people displaying love for their country. Football may be a form of tribalism - one ‘tribe’ v another - but if it gives the bottled-up English a chance to display brotherhood with one another and unite us as one nation, then it’s a good thing. The English may never be fully like the Americans in their outward signs of nationalism, but it’s a start. Last night in Rome, at 3-0, the crowd thought it was all over, but with Kane’s last goal, ‘it is now’.

1st July 2021

My brand new novel is now released and available on Amazon! This one is different from my other books, having a serious moral under the narrative surface. For 70+ years I’ve harboured a plea to the literary and film world: please can someone correct the unfair injustices to the Jewish people by countering the mistaken, ill-educated opinions in the media about their looks, mannerisms, personality and homeland? I waited and waited. There were certainly academic, non-fiction tomes by such heavyweight writers as Schama, Montefiore, Julius etc., but I wanted to reach the ordinary reader. It therefore needed to be an engrossing novel. Eventually, when nothing happened, I decided that maybe I should try to put the record straight myself. So The Meleke Stone is here. Essentially it comprises two main elements: a lifetime friendship between a Jewish man and an Egyptian, highlighting their similarities and brotherhood, whilst, importantly, including the true, archaeological evidence of the Jewish claim to the land of Israel. Are you ready to start the 4000 year journey of the meleke stone? Simply click on the image on the right. Enjoy!

27th June 2021

One more week to go to the release of The Meleke Stone...

Someone once said to me that truth often takes a back seat for those with subliminal, obsessional, lifelong-held racist views. It seemed to me, therefore, that in these days of free access to social media, which unfortunately gives a voice to many ill- educated, racist viewpoints, it was time to put the record straight. So, my new novel is the culmination of a project I’ve been working towards all my life. I wanted to write an enthralling, engrossing narrative but with a serious moral behind it. I built on the knowledge I learned at first hand when living in Toulouse, France, over 12 years. In so doing I was able to give my characters a shared, common background in being expelled from their original homelands and struggling to establish a new life in a different country. I’ve attempted to draw on man’s similarities rather than perceived differences. Let’s hope it does some good in the world so that, whatever colour, faith or creed people espouse, we can all live in peace and brotherhood with each other.

.....are you ready to follow the 4000 year journey of The Meleke Stone?

20th June 2021

Last night I watched a 50s film called Flame in the Streets, starring John Mills and Sylvia Syms. Had to keep reminding myself this wasn’t a retro film where you check to see if the cars are accurate. It was made at the time, reflecting 50s attitudes on racism. Accurate? Yes. I remembered that time. Must have been terrible for Windrush people struggling to make a living in this country. On Friday I saw the build up to Eng v Scotland, a different kind of tribal warfare. It was clear: the Scots hate the English to an extraordinary degree, which doesn’t appear to be reciprocated at the same level by the English. I see it on social media a lot, yet we’re all the same nation. United? Don’t think so. It’s not a case of cutting it out by the roots. Such hatred towards those from other ‘tribes’ must be prevented from building up in the first place. How? Education. Make sure that faith schools aren’t hiding overtly racist books under the guise of a foreign language, and teach all children to love each other. Let’s hope there’s no racist flames in the streets after the next ‘friendly’ Euro match.

13th June 2021

Human greatness does not lie in wealth and power, but in character and goodness. Ann Frank, aged 13.

I wonder whether Angela Merkel, on arrival at the G7 in Cornwall this weekend, congratulated the Queen on her birthday? Probably. But, did Angela commemorate the birthday of one of her own citizens 92 years ago - Ann Frank, a young girl from Frankfurt brutally murdered by her own country? Probably not. I wonder also whether Angela will be applauding her team at the Euros as they ‘take the knee’? Probably. Yet, will she understand that it’s not just one group of people who are being subjected to global racism but many others too, some who have been persecuted for 3000 years? As a writer, I kept waiting for someone to highlight the unfairness suffered massively by the latter group. Eventually I thought, well, if no-one else, maybe I should do it myself. So, my newly-completed novel - set in historic Israel from the year 1500 BCE through to the present day - is now finished. Irrespective of any future success, I doubt if Merkel or anyone else will be taking the knee on my behalf somehow!

6th June 2021

Yesterday was the anniversary of the 6 day war, which leads me to a question. Do writers have a duty to showcase things that are wrong with the world? Or should we simply write superficial historical romances, which seem so popular today? You know the kind - those with covers featuring young, beautiful women with modern faces and make-up, white teeth and looking far too clean and well-groomed to ever have lived in the era depicted. My next book will attempt to show the world how unfair they’ve been to the Jewish people for thousands of years, forcing them out of their ancient tiny homeland again and again by successive waves of tribe after tribe. In Hitler’s Germany, millions walked meekly to their deaths, yet today when they at last defend themselves against yet another tribe vowing their extermination, it’s the Jewish people who are again derided rather than their aggressors. It’s clear enough: if Hamas et al lay down their weapons there’ll be peace; conversely, if Israel lays down its weapons, both Israel and its people will be wiped off the face of the earth. But, should I publish such a book when antisemitism is unbelievably rising yet again? Or do I have a duty as a writer to correct a terrible wrong? The jury’s out.

30th May 2021

The older I get, the more tired I am of all the troubles in the world. Generation after generation of young men get angry about something, testosterone kicks in, followed by their committing a terrible crime causing terror to the innocent public. So, as a writer, I decided to do something about it. What if there were a series of enticing thrillers, set in different parts of the world, showcasing a young man in just such a situation? The novels would need to zoom inside a young man’s head, reveal the often understandable cause of his initial angst, but then show all too clearly the horrifying aftermath of his actions. Step forward thriller no. 1:

Dunoon Assassin.

Now available as an ebook and paperback. Just click the image on the right.

Here’s the blurb:

A story of revenge and retribution spanning three continents, a hundred years apart. Jay Khatri grows up in 1950s New York, the son of immigrants. Life is hard until a chance encounter leads to a job at Tiffany’s on Fifth Avenue, where he learns the skills that will influence the rest of his life. When he learns about the Amritsar massacre in India in 1919, he vows to avenge the massacre of his grandparents. A murderous obsession grows. A secret, wartime, nuclear bomb is set to explode in Holy Loch, Dunoon, years in the future. Will the combined efforts of the US President, the British PM and Scottish First Minister be in time to save the world from almost certain apocalypse? As the story moves from New York to Dunoon and to Amritsar, the tension mounts.…..and all the while, the clock is ticking.

Hope you enjoy it!

23 May 2021

I watched the Eurovision Song Contest last night. It was good to see so many nations performing in harmony with each other. On the digital front, FB also gives a global platform for people to ‘sing’ together. Trouble is, instead of bringing harmony, it gives voice to mayhem. Ancient prejudices and historical misunderstandings which, before the IT age, simmered underneath, are now let loose to multiply and gather strength, leading to war. Today, international mediators are quick on the scene, stopping conflicts. But, if they’d stopped Churchill before he defeated that madman Hitler, I would not be here today. So, what to do? How to stop historical inaccuracies building in the first place? We need to prevent IT platforms multiplying incorrect idealogues, and somehow give unbiased, globally-recognised, fact-based truths about land origins. And global, peace-keeping organisations should not comprise - like the UN - 11 Muslim nations v only one Jewish one, when discussing the ME. What can individuals do? Shortly I’ll be publishing a novel about what can happen when one man over-reacts to perceived injustice, followed by another novel of similar genre, set in another continent. Let’s hope that, like the UK last night, they don’t get nul points! Watch this space.

16th May 2021

I get tired of so many media distortions, fired at us from ‘reputable’ sources like the BBC, Sky News etc. One viral video showed a Palestinian funeral for a boy supposedly killed by an Israeli airstrike in Gaza, to attract global sympathy. However, when sirens sound, the ‘body’ runs away. The exact same video was also shown last year. These media distortions cause incalculable harm. Yesterday, thousands of people, including Corbyn and Diane Abbot, marched in London for the Palestinian cause, their opinions irrevocably swayed by thousands of years of biased reporting. I prefer to listen to neighbouring countries, who have a far more real picture of events. Here’s what the UAE leader said yesterday: “If Hamas does not commit to complete calm, it dooms the residents of the Strip to a life of suffering. Its leaders must understand that their policies are hurting the people living in Gaza.” In 2005 Israel was asked to withdraw its defensive troops from Gaza in exchange for peace. It did so. But attacks from Gaza did not cease. So, whom should you believe - terrorist leaders of Gaza who deliberately house families in buildings used for weapons and rear their children in violence and hate, or the only democratic, free nation in the ME? The choice is yours. And me? I’m writing........

9th May 2021

Yesterday marked 16 years since we turned off the lights and moved to France. Oh, if only we knew then what we know now! In a nutshell, the French just don’t like the English. Last week, Macron threatened to cut off electricity supplies to Jersey, so Boris had to send in the gunboats to protect fishing rights. Wonder what Napoleon would have done? Wednesday was the 200th anniversary of his death. Ever noticed how similar he and Macron look in profile? And there’s more. Short stature, intensely nationalistic, modernisers and ego-centric. Him indoors says you can’t tell a bone-apart! In complete contrast, I was thinking also of America’s head of state. To me, Biden looks doddery. A cardboard cut-out almost. Those in the know tell me the real leader is called ‘President Klain’, officially Chief of Staff, but apparently running the show in all but name. So, clearly France and the US are very different from the English. Want to read more? My two humorous slants on each country are now re-released. Simply click on the first two images on the right. Enjoy!

2nd May 2021

Him indoors, ever the comedian, said he wanted a new Porsche, but this is what we got! For the past week, we’ve seen English workmen close up, in all their glory. They worked very hard all day, without a break, and their craftsmanship has been a joy. I didn’t worry too much about masks and social distancing as they were working outside and we’ve now had our second vaccine. What a contrast, though, to our experiences in France. There they caused us headaches and were very expensive. French workmen are a strange breed. Don’t even think of hiring them in August, when the whole country shuts down for four weeks. And, jobs there can drag on for ever when 3-4 hours each day are taken for the notorious lunch/siesta breaks. There was no bureaucracy here and we haven’t even paid a penny to our English builder yet. You do have to offer English builders frequent tea/coffee though, which French builders always refuse, but that wasn’t a problem. Trouble is, from the name on our new bell push (Byron), people think I’m a poet!

25th April 2021

Last night I watched colour footage of VE celebrations around the world, ahead of the 8 May anniversary. People looked so happy. Life would be better for ever and man would respect man. But yesterday, I had read a FB report of a man on a local bus who refused to give up his seat to a heavily-pregnant woman. What was striking were the comments, the majority applauding the man’s ‘rights’! In the 40s, despite deprivations, I remember being taught to respect older people, our parents, those in authority and especially those in need. It was a way of life that worked and no-one questioned it. When a child reported being reprimanded at school, the family would support the teacher. But now? Despite today’s previously-unheard-of home ‘luxuries’ like hot showers and central heating, selfishness has taken hold. Personal ‘rights’ have overridden respect for others. In nearly 80 years since one war ended, another has begun. Society has lost its way.

18th April 2021

Yesterday the world witnessed what Britain does best. The weather agreed. Wall to wall blue skies reflected on an English scene glorious in its majesty, dazzling in its ancient ceremony yet replete with dignity. Simple touches brought a personal feel to the solemn occasion. A specially-adapted Land Rover vehicle, true to Philip’s humour and humility, made his last journey. An honour too for Birmingham, where it was made. And, amongst it all, sat an old lady in black, small and lonely on a wooden pew, something with which everyone all over the world is familiar. Yet, for me, it was a perfect example of the essential differences in style between England and other nations. Yesterday showed England’s majesterial excellence. My two, soon-to-be-reprinted, non-fiction books about living in France and America show how two different nations deal with ceremony. Wherever you live, may peace be with those currently experiencing shared grief.

RIP Philip.

11th April 2021

I noticed one news item that Harry would return home for his grandfather’s funeral. Whilst the media seized on speculation, I was more struck by use of the word ‘home’. He may think his home is California, but the media infers otherwise. Philip’s mother also understood the meaning of home. In the ‘40s, when Germany invaded Greece, Princess Alice heard of the desperate straits of a Jewish family and offered to shelter them at her own home, where they stayed until liberation. Despite being questioned by the Gestapo, Alice used her deafness to pretend not to understand their questions. Just before she died, Alice expressed her wish to be buried in Jerusalem on the Mount of Olives, a spiritual home. In 1993, the Yad Vashem Museum there correctly bestowed the title of ‘Righteous Among the Nations’ on Philip’s mother. On Thursday, the Jewish people will celebrate their just return to their ancestral homeland. When Harry lands in London after his own journey, he - like the Jewish people - will have much on which to reflect.

4th April 2021

Sometimes I get exasperated with the NHS. I know, I know. The concept of a universal health system is wonderful, something other countries like the US look on with envy. I clapped along with everyone else to thank the Covid staff who’ve worked tirelessly over the past year. And, how we dealt with the Covid crisis exposed the differences in how this small country is able to move so much faster than the over-bureaucratic, ponderous EU. Indeed, whilst our vaccination programme is going really well, France is now entering its 3rd lockdown and Germany’s introducing yet more restrictions. But, in other ways, the NHS is still in the dark ages. Last week, as a pre-diabetic, I had a blood and MSU test but to date have been unable to get the results. When I call up, I’m told that my dr is ‘satisfied’, therefore my result’s been filed! In France, the lab automatically pings the result to both the patient’s and doctor’s cell phone , the same day. Correct. It helps local doctors enormously. Even our garage gives me a written report on our car! So, yes, even though our NHS is a wonderful concept, for general day to day medical treatment, it needs to modernise its services, enter the digital world and stop being condescending to patients.

28th March 2021

A year ago this week, unimaginable things happened to the whole world, probably caused by unverifiable human error in a secretive State. First we couldn’t travel, socialise or go to work. Schools and eating establishments closed, followed by something unheard of: a national lockdown. How on earth would everyone afford to live? Who’d have wanted to be a national leader at such a time, having to deal with an unprecedented disaster for which there were no guidelines anywhere? Last night I was watching a new documentary on Churchill and wondered what he would have done. Certainly Boris is a maverick, like him, and that’s exactly what was needed in such an emergency. Daily I read on social media the left wing views of so many, castigating what the government has done and rubbishing the PM and his appearance, completely ignoring the amazing systems he’s put in place over the last year. Who cares what Boris looks like? I shudder to think what Corbyn would have done as PM. Instead, TG, state of the art vaccines were produced, we had daily public scientific advice on data and guidelines, new NHS protocols and financial furlough packages, welfare benefits etc. About time we congratulated Boris for a job well done.

21st March 2021

Things are changing. Over the last year, more than a million foreign-born people have left the UK, a larger number than the population of Birmingham, and the greatest amount since WW2. But, others are now arriving to fill the empty spaces, including visa-waving Hong Kong residents. When I wrote my best-selling Pensioners in Paradis, things were very different. Twenty years ago, we all hankered after the sunshine of France and Spain. It was so easy to up-sticks back then and become expats. But, rather like my book, which has just run out of contract (my publisher Crooked Cat Books has now closed), the momentum has now completely reversed. As predicted, Brexit proved too difficult. Removal companies in the Costas report that they’ve never been busier. British expats don’t want to apply for Spanish citizenship, can’t afford extortionate private health insurance, and legendary bureaucratic EU dithering over Covid vaccines is the final straw. 150 years ago my grandfather, fleeing from E. European pogroms, was welcomed here. TG for the legendary welcome he received in Britain.

14th March 2021

Mothers Day here. One woman who’ll never be a mother is Sarah Everard, murdered by a serving policeman this week in London. In the past after such atrocities, posters everywhere would urge women to stay home, and not to wear provocative dress etc. All too easy for the police to target innocent victims when really the curfew should be for testosterone-driven men, the perpetrators. So what can be done? Mass castration’s hardly an option, its result anyway the end of society. Certainly there’s too much internet porn available. Page 3 girls may have disappeared from the tabloids, but society’s still awash with females feeling the need to ‘attract’ men in ever more alluring ways. Schools could help by teaching boys how to treat girls but I’ve another idea. 25 years ago, the BBC’s Today programme asked for suggestions to be turned into law. My entry was a finalist: “mandatory pre-natal classes for all new parents-to-be on how to rear their children, including respect for others and good citizenship, a certificate to be awarded on successfully passing the course, which would then need to be presented to obtain child benefit.” Women could then have gone out at night in safety. Pity it didn’t win.

7 March 2021

Parents here sigh with relief as children go back to school tomorrow, but the only tests in sight will be for Covid! Much is being said about mental health provision for children, something unheard of in my day. Some teachers talk about play and games being the most important thing. But whenever I see teachers or university students on TV quiz shows, it’s remarkable how narrow their general knowledge is, even in their own specialist subjects! In 1954, when I was 7, each child needed to take tests in English and arithmetic in order to progress to the junior school. I remember being able to read the word pneumonia and to do long multiplication and division so was admitted to the junior school. Rightly, the education system back then concentrated on academic rigour. It was all important, trumping all other concerns. How many of today’s 8 year olds could do the test below, set in 1931?

I’m all for children playing games and having fun but this should be after school and at the weekends. At primary level, the teacher’s job is to teach the basics rigorously. If a child can’t read, write or do arithmetic, their whole future life is jeopardised.

28th February 2021

And so the royal soap opera continues, real life and tinsel town merging once again. It’s got everything: global appeal, history and emotion. When Harry met Meghan morphs into the Oprah and Corden Show, with underlying questions left unanswered. My late brother used to talk about ‘Harry Hewitt’ and asked why a DNA test was never publicised. Delving further back, it’s tragic how royal protocol ruined Margaret’s and initially Charles’ lives by preventing their marrying a divorcee. The irony today is that if Harry had been prevented from marrying Meghan, none of the current upset would have happened. But, what excuse could the royals have given this time? Modern sensibilities rightly wouldn’t have accepted ‘a woman of colour’ reason, yet this is a far weightier issue which traditionalists say would have ‘sullied’ the royal line. Memories of Diana’s tragic last days come to mind and look what happened to her! I wrote about all this in An Englishwoman in America (click image on the right). Be quick. It’s out of contract on 3 March. But Harry’s future? It’ll all end in tears and a return to London. Just wait for the next episode.