Diana, Princess of Wales. Lady Di.

                                           

Princess Diana was a woman who courted controversy all her life. She divided opinion everywhere she went but appeared to be so loved by all and sundry that it was almost sacrilege to say anything against her. At the time.

I’m sure there is little doubt that the Royal family (or the establishment) used her to produce an heir and a spare as the saying goes while Charles’s heart lay firmly elsewhere with his first love, Camilla.

The tragedy in the Pont de L’Alma Tunnel firmly cemented Diana in the hearts of her adoring public as a woman who could do no wrong. Nobody could comment adversely after the tragedy of a young, vibrant woman dying in such terrible circumstances. It was an accident that robbed three people of their lives.  And the boys of their mum.

But Camilla has stood the test of time as Charles' wife, the Duchess of Cornwall. She has kept her mouth shut as controversy raged around her and she goes about her business in quiet dignity. She’s not beautiful, she’s a big raggedly, she doesn’t wear posh clothes well, she nips out the back for a quick cigarette and people are starting to admire her for it.  Especially women of a certain age who see a kindred spirit in her  and not a clothes horse.  She appeared on the TV on Christmas Eve visiting Battersea dogs home. The programme was about the dogs, not Camilla, but there was a little bit of footage of her getting out the car with a Jack Russell (both rescued) under each armpit, Dogs  were handed back and forth as  handshakes and formal introductions were made. It was obvious she was a little uncomfortable with that and wanted to get on with seeing the kennels.

                                         

                                          Camilla and the rescue Russell, picture from the Daily Mail

 The presenter, Paul O’Grady had dressed a litter of ten puppies in Xmas jumpers… well was desperately trying to every time the camera went back to him. He was involved in yet another tussle of ears, tails, teeth, fur  and pee. Then Camilla came in, curtsey, handshakes, then Camilla got on her knees to say hello to the puppies and was swamped in tails, fur balls, jumpers etc. then she half turned and asked for a hand to help her get up. She earned a lot of fans doing that and letting it be filmed.

                                   

I have been to Hyde Park twice to try to find the Diana memorial fountain and failed, so in intrepid blogger style I set off for a third time, map in hand, the significant other following behind with camera.

The problem is, it’s not a fountain. Well not in the uppy downy sense.

                                          

                                                  This in the memorial fountain

We found it in the southwest corner of the park, south of the Serpentine lake. It has been there since 6 July 2004 when it was officially opened by Queen Elizabeth with Diana's younger brother Charles Spencer, her ex-husband Prince Charles, and her sons William and Harry also in attendance.

It caused controversy at the time, and I’m not sure about its popularity now.  The most common thing overheard around it is ‘is that it?’ with a huge degree of disappointment. Ok it was designed by Kathryn Gustafson, (cost £3.6 million) to provide  a fitting memorial for the princess and does credit to the amazing person that she was."

                                    

It has 545 individual pieces of Cornish granite made into an oval stone fountain through which runs some water. The guide book says it is surrounded by lush verdant grass, it’s surrounded by mud. They reworked the area around the fountain to improve the drainage but frankly, it looked a mess.

It’s 3 to 6 m wide and it runs at an angle so the water gets pumped back up to the top.

The two sides are different, to reflect the two sides of Diana’s life; happy and turmoil.

It was supposed to allow paddling and contemplation with folk standing in the water, but three girls were hospitalised soon after it opened. It was very slippy and it was closed.  Beautiful but dangerous. Maybe that is a truer comment on Diana.

                                    

                                               I prefer the view looking the other way

So, in December 2004, another alteration project was started. This involved work on the drainage, together with laying new hard surfaces on some of the most frequently walked areas of the site and the planting of a special hard wearing rye grass mix in others.

I am not particularly fond of the royal family, they do a good job. But then so do I.

 I went to work on the day of Diana’s funeral.

                                  

                                                 Pier on the Serpentine

I got my degree from Princess Anne  I refused to curtesy, I had worked for it. But she and I got chatting about horses and that was that.

She was at our Uni three times. (Anne I mean ) She sat on a filing cabinet at our tutorial point . She explained that she had just had her anti malarial tablets and felt terrible, so against protocol we all sat down and had a great chat about homeopathy!

 I met her again at a guide dog thing, she asked how I had arrived and what the Edinburgh traffic was like as she was in a hurry to get to the rugby. I once had a chat with Prince Charles about flat feet. He was ok, professionally interested.  Interested in my accent and where I was from.

I met Diana at the uni too.  She’s a good eight inches taller than me and was two stone lighter, she looked like bones with fancy clothes draped over them. Got the impression there was not a lot going on between her ears. But I know from other students that she sparked into life downstairs at the kiddies clinic where she was talking animatedly about the babies and their treatments so I guess it’s each to their own.

Famously, she hated Scotland.

                                

                                            Twilight in Hyde Park

Just reading that back, it sounds as though I move in high circles but I trained at the British School of Osteopathic Medicine, that's in the middle of London, ten minutes walk from Buckingham Palace and Charles has always had a huge interest in complementary therapy, Anne was a patron of our college hence they were always popping in and out !!

Caro

Happy New Year To Our Four Legged Friends

Happy New Year! For many people in Scotland, this means taking advantage of our two day holiday (yes, two days. As you know we take Hogmanay very seriously here) to recover from a few drams too many or joining family for a traditional steak pie dinner.

So I was thinking about we bloggers and what a friendly bunch we are, hands across oceans etc. Emails across oceans is more accurate. But less romantic.

                                    

And I got to thinking about friends. If you sit and think about five friends you have, most of them will have similar traits. They will be loyal, they will do things in companionable silence without wittering on like a demented budgie with Tourette's. They will make you laugh and they will be slightly dafter than you. So you can feel a little superior. And of course that is a perfect description of a dog. 

                                    

There will be one friend who is a cat – the friend who only calls when they want something. The friend who orders the most expensive food on the menu when you are paying the bill. The friend who will not tell you exactly what they have been up to but you know from the smile on their face that they enjoyed it. When you finally decide that you have had enough of being used, they do something charming and wonderful, knowing they will be forgiven. And that friend is your cat friend, we all have them.

(A recent survey said that cat owners are more likely to have a university degree but dog owners live longer than cat owners do!)

So thinking about crime writers, it is in the area of ‘criminal’ activities that our friends differ. Cats murder things and bring their victims home. Whereas dogs are rather helpful in the pursuit of crime detection. And indeed how often, in fiction and real life do we read ‘the body was found by a passing dog walker’. In truth the body was found by a passing dog.

                                         

                                                      One of the first, digging his new uniform...

The image of the British police dog is iconic, Glasgow was one of the first forces in Britain to recruit police dogs in 1910. Only because the force was getting a little bit desperate. Crime was increasing, violent housebreakings (what we call burglary ) were becoming common. A Lt Colonel Richardson who owned a dog training school at Carnoustie had contacted every chief constable in the UK about training police dogs but there had been no interest – until he contacted Glasgow.

He did not supply one of these though;

                                 

                                      ( this is Nipper, the first police dog of the new Police Scotland)

It was one of these…

                                        

Which I always think of as….

                                    

 Somehow even more scary.

Airedale terriers were originally bred as hunting dogs so they would track their quarry across any terrain. This made them ideal as police dogs, but Richardson went a step further, breeding them with other dogs to develop their intelligence and sense of smell.

During the First World War, these dogs went on to become incredibly important to the army, able to carry messages when soldiers wouldn’t make it through or to alert soldiers to approaching enemies.  

But time proved that the German Shepherds were brighter, more trainable and possessed a keener sense of smell than Airdales. And the image of the police dog we know became more familiar.

I have had the pleasure to know Jim and Chet. I have changed their names to protect the guilty. Jim  is a tall strapping police officer from the days when police officers had to be tall and strapping and be able to run after criminals, whereas now I think all they need to be able to do is spreadsheets and sit in McDonalds eating burgers. ( Just a personal observation!)

Chet was a big boned German Shepherd who liked to chase bad people and hold them down. If they annoyed him, he bit them gently. If he was bored he would chase anything that ran away from him.

He was a brave and determined lad, keen in pursuit, fast across the ground – and so was Jim until the day Chet took off down an eight feet drop at the end of a five feet lead and dislocated Jim’s shoulder. Words were said, Chet was cursed by Jim but gave his handler a “there will be time enough for that kind of talk once we’ve caught him” Rin Tin Tin look. And they started running again…..and they caught him.

His most (in) famous exploit happened on an outfield of the airport. On a dark, dark night two suspects had got in past the perimeter fence. Two officers within the perimeter were send to chase them and Chet was sent in to assist. They were to chase the thieves up to the corner of the fence where a police car was waiting on the other side. If they made it over the fence (8 feet high ) they would be apprehended on the outside. If they didn’t, they would be caught by their pursuers…and Chet.

The thieves took one look at Chet and ran for the fence, as did the two officers. Chet was running free, and unbeknown to them - was very good at getting over fences. There was a self-satisfied smile for thirty seconds when the thieves got over the fence only to be handcuffed by the two cops from the squad car, plus the two cops that Chet had been assisting.  Then they realised that Chet was clawing his way slowly up the wire.

                                                

Jim was too far behind to call Chet off. ( and confesses that he  wouldn’t have.)

Chet was in outraged pursuit. With nowhere to go police and thieves piled into the police car, six in all, arms and legs everywhere. The doors banged closed just in time and Chet bounced from window to window, barking furiously that he had run all that way and was entitled to bite someone.

Jim (still on the inside), took one look at the fence, felt his shoulder and decided against the climb. He  walked all the way back to the dog van, leaving Chet in charge of the situation. Chet was found on top of the squad car with the four cops and two thieves trembling inside.

We shall draw a veil over the time he chased an assistant police commissioner up a tree. I think that was in front of some Norwegian policemen who were keen to see a demonstration. They thought Chet was great. They disliked their commissioners as much as Chet disliked his.

                              

                                     Barney retired after ten years of loyal drug sniffing.

And then we think of the cadaver dogs- scenting the decomposing body twenty minutes after death. The drug sniffing dogs, the search dogs,  the mountain rescue dogs. The guide dogs for the blind, the hearing dogs for the deaf, diabetic and epileptic sensing dogs that really can change the lives of very young kids. And the cancer detecting dogs. The assistance dogs for disabled. Rumours are that they can be better than the average husband at putting the washing machine on.

And not forgetting the dogs in military service, used in bomb detection and disposal. And I have no doubt, keeping up moral in the most horrific of circumstances.

                                        

And then we have pet dogs who wouldn't even wear the comedy reindeer antlers for a photograph...

                                                      

So a great new year to all our friends, no matter where in the world. No matter how many legs they have. Or whose antlers.

Caro 

The Greatest bookshop in the world

I did my training in London and after spending five years there as a penniless student, it’s good to go back every so often and visit old haunts with some money in my purse.

                                     

One of my trips is always to Foyles, the greatest book shop in the world. I shall arm wrestle to the ground anybody who says otherwise.  It stands at the top of Charing Cross Road and when I first went there with my huge list of medical text books I had to buy, we students were sent down the old rickety rackety wooden stairs to the dark basement where copies of Gray's Anatomy were stacked high into the ceiling, Gangon's Text Book of Medical Physiology (unreadable!) filled the far wall and every variation of clinical methods manuals and anatomical atlases were piled higgledy piddledy at my feet   I remember tip toeing my way down the narrow maze like path between the books, hoping that  I  would find my way out.

Maybe hoping I would not.

The smell was  marvellous.

                                      

It has changed a lot now.

It had been an independent bookseller since 1903, and is always just called 'Foyles (founded by brothers William and Gilbert Foyle).  They failed their entrance exam to join the  civil service but being enterprising chappies they sold off their redundant text books – and so a legend was born.

                             

By 1906 they opened the shop at 135 Charing Cross Road and they stayed there until 2014 when they moved to the premises I visited last week. As you will have noticed, it moved along the same street.

Charing Cross Road is famous for book and  bookshops, as seen in the film 84 Charing Cross Road. Denmark Street is off it – famous for  musical instrument shops and sheet music. Charing Cross Road changes its name a few times as it goes up to Euston Station. At the Tottenham Court Road part it was always  full of specialist hi fi shops in the good old days of turntables, speakers, amps, tweeters, woofers, ....fade the list to sepia..... but now it has fallen foul to the advancement of large chain coffee shops ... spit anger teeth gnashing....

In 1930 Christina Foyle, daughter of the founder William, started her famous literary lunches that have included  Margaret Thatcher, Prince Philip, General de Gaulle, General Sikorski and the Emperor Haile Selassie.

                                            

In 1945 the control of the business passed to Christina who didn’t seem to share her dad’s golden touch. She fired staff on a whim and refused any modern intervention- such as tills.  I have memories of wandering about being confused about how to pay for my books which weighed a ton as I carried them for A to Z. The payment system was that customers had to queue to collect an invoice for the book, queue to pay the  invoice  at another counter, then  queue again  to collect the books which hopefully were the ones paid for. We Brits are very found of queueing so nobody really cared.
                                          

According to come sources, the books on the shelf were arranged via  publisher. Not topic. N author. Not popularity. it was probably a minor miracle that anybody found the book  they went in for, but imagine the delights to be found on the way.

I would happily wandering round for hours, ( free entertainment) reading a bit of this and that while on my way down the wooden staircase.  "Imagine Kafka had gone into the book trade,” was  a famous quote about the shop at the time.  It was famed for these anachronistic practices  and it's rather a shame that the new shop is bright and shiny, well organised and sensible. The staff are still rather eccentric. Nothing  surprises them. As I was being served, the old gentleman at the till was asked if they stocked 'Waiting for Godot.' In Finnish.

'Over at the window, third shelf down.' He didn't blink.Didn't miss a beat.

.                                            

I think the new shop opened  on 7th June at no.107, just a few doors down from the old shop. The sticky out sign is just the same so you can't miss it. I’m not sure if it still holds the records for its 30 miles of shelf space but it should.  It still has the greatest range of  a books under one roof of any book shop in the UK. It was voted  national book seller of the year in 2013.

                             

The new place has succumbed to the onsite coffee shop trend. But it’s a Foyles and not branded, it does soup and hot rolls. It does tea in a pot with a real leaf dangler. The café is high on the fifth floor and if the seating is full you can wander up to the sixth and eat your lunch next to the grand piano. The lift has opening doors at both ends as the floors of the shop are off set. It causes panic in those  occupants that are facing the wrong door as the lift announces 'third floor' and they are staring at a brick wall, presuming the lift had got stuck and they will stay there for eternity. slowly rotting away with a good book to read.

I meandered through crime looking for a few folk I know, I spotted this. And then this

 and this…
                                            

And then I spotted this...

 A book by the Doc Holliday of Scottish writing. You have to witness the coat.  Chris Dolan a multi talented type who I try really hard to dislike but I can't because he's a nice bloke. He’s a screen play writer,  song writer,  tv writer and general all round smart arse who has just produced a crime book.

                                        

 He does redeem himself from all this cleverness by admitting that crime writers are a great laugh and much more fun to hang about with than these intellectual, beardy types.

 Being a smart chappie he produced this little montage and he’s singing the song himself. He is a Glaswegian so I invite you to revel in his dulcet tones. He smokes about twenty Woodbine a day and can still do a pretty shifty ten k.

I will get him to guest blog in the future. I did ask him for a quote as to why he has joined the ranks of 'The Happy Writers' and here's what he said.

He says it took him a long time to try his hand at a genre he loves – Crime.

"Despite what people think, Crime is harder than ‘literary; fiction, or political plays. It’s a deep craft… It speaks about the world and morals and life as it’s lived, but it has to be accurately shaped, profoundly considered. The plot, the characters, the created world. I don’t know if I’ve quite got there yet, but I love writing my heroine Maddy, and with luck and hard work the next novel might be better’.

( That's a bit like Picasso saying he'll be a better painter when he learns to stay within the lines.  And yes, his Fiscal heroine Maddy does wear peerie heels.)

The montage is .... well see for yourself. It's all about his book. 

Once watched, I defy you not to start thinking what a montage about your last book would be like....

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cbz-dqXe3-Q

Caro

The Bellagio

                                

Every body should go to Las Vegas once in a lifetime.

Just to affirm that the world is insane. Except 'me.'

                               

Unless you think Vegas is normal.

Then you need help.

                               

I went there ten years ago with a friend who wore a kilt. We walked up and down the strip. It took about three hours as everyone wanted to take his photo. They kept calling him a paper.

(A piper we later worked out)

                                    

So we went again, for two days, staying at the Bellagio for a laugh. We did not gamble one single cent - the silliness of it all is enough. It is marvellous in its ridiculousness. With the odd bit of sheer class thrown in.  

                                

The Bellagio is owned by MGM Resorts International and was built on the site of the demolished Dunes hotel and casino. It was inspired by the town of the same name  on the shore of Lake Como- hence the fountain/lake in front of it. And it is huge.

                                   
                                         The corridor disappeared into infinity.
                                                     And beyond.

Think of the biggest hotel you've ever got lost in.
Then double it.

The main bit has 3,015 rooms, on 36 floors. The  Spa Tower has 33 floors with 935 rooms.

The ceiling in the hall has over 2,000 hand-blown glass flowers, covers covering 2,000 sq ft . Must be a right awkward one to dust.
Some of the 8000 staff drive around in little cars is it is  very long way to walk.

The rooms are beautiful but everything, (I mean everything, we had to get  torque wrench to the duvet) is nailed down. There are no tea or coffee making facilities as they want you to go out and walk the  40 miles of corridors for coffee ( not cheap). Once you get there you buy a bottle of water and a sat nav to get  back to your room.

                                                              

The opening ceremony in 1998 cost 88 million dollars. Then it was the  most expensive hotel ever built. It had a 100  million dollar upgrade in 2011. So what was the initial build?
1.8 billion, give or take a penny.

                              
               The view from the back of the Bellagio. It was an extra $50 per night for a lake view.
                                   It was dark so you couldn't see it anyway. So why bother.

The fountains of Bellagio are a vast, choreographed water feature with performances set to light and music. "Time To Say Goodbye", "Proud to be an American", "Your Song", "Viva Las Vegas", "Luck Be a Lady", and "My Heart Will Go On".The latter was fabulous - until the music started.

We like the bit when you see and hear all the nozzles wind up to the surface and set themselves- a bit like underwater Tiller Girls having a scratch and fidget before the line up.

Then - a smoke machine type thing started to blow a white cloud across the water-  a solid, crystal haar ( like they get in Aberdeen except this was pretty and no danger to shipping ).  Then the  jets of water started to do a wibbly wobbly watery wave thing. It was heart achingly beautiful.
Then Celine started in her Foghorn Leghorn voice and spoiled it all.
But by the big bit where she shouts loud enough to break up the iceberg by sound waves, the super duper nozzles start to give it malkie and the noise is like a thousand firecrackers. It totally drowns out Celine.
Thank goodness.

But to get to the fountains low down at the front, we had to walk the long road from our room at the back and high up.

                              

                             past the crystal obelisk,  parked under the great glass dome.

a bit of tree....

that was actually a scary face, 

at the back of this was a young lady playing classical harp

Indeed, you can just see her here..

I think she was playing the Flower Duet.

All acorns and autumn flowers- for thanksgiving I presume.

The best bit was watching the gardeners redoing it all first thing in the morning, all dirty nails and hard work, scuttling around trying to be invisible.

these two wee guys moved back and forth

up to no good

Smile face and  flower horsey

This wee guy was moving so fast after his nuts the camera couldn't keep up.

                                  Ok, so the other half had to drag me away from that as 'This time we say                                                   Goodbye' was next up for the fountain treatment..

The fountains are set in a 8-acre man made lake which was originally used to  water  the golf course that stood on the site originally. The hotel is very keen to point of that the fountains use less water than irrigating the golf course ever did. But why would they as I presume the water that shoots out the fountain nozzles just goes back into the lake.
I read there was 1,200 nozzles, more than 4,500 lights and they cost  $40 million to build.

There are four types of nozzles:

Oarsmen – jets with a full range of spherical motion (The waves do the tinkly bit at the start of the Titanic song...bet you that went down a storm)

Shooters – shoot water upwards ( the start of each chorus)

Super Shooters – send a water blast as high as 240 ft (73 m) in the air (Celine's shouty bits) .

Extreme Shooters – send a water blast as high as 460 ft (140 m) (added in 2005) (Celine's big finish)

Sing as you go through the next few photos.

It's be nothing like the real thing but you'll get a response from the cat.

Caro Ramsay