Richard Lane

Went to a very noisy concert last night, the Leningrad symphony by Shostakovich (his 7th symphony), which has been blaring in the house for days. There was some confusion over the seats, eventually I got a good place right on the front row next to the orchestra. A lady violinist winked at me as she walked on stage. Tried to sleep through it all but really not possible, especially when it all went mad at the end. Apparently Shostakovich wrote the symphony during the Nazi siege on Leningrad in 1941, and by the sound of the snare drum it was obvious what the piece was about. The ending was so noisy, and the audience reaction, that I got up and sort of took a bow, wasn’t sure whether they were applauding the orchestra or me for being such a good guide dog.There was also an old Russian lady sitting near me who could actually remember the 1941 siege, she was quite emotional about it and talked a lot, even durinng the symphony which I thought was a bit off. anyway the LPO did a great job, though I was glad to get home as my ears were jangling a bit.I’ve pleaded for a Shostakovich ban on the CD player for a few weeks and hope some gentler music will be played…. 

Riding a camel is something you should only do once – it’s just far too uncomfortable. But that is what simon and I did today, 45 mins down the coast at a bedouin settlement, along with half a dozen other Brits from the hotel. and despite pre-warning, quite disconcerting when the beast rises rear-end first after you have clambered on board, though just managed to hang on. Half an hour later we all dismounted with some relief, rubbing our inner thighs and trying to wash off the smell of camel dung in the waters of the gulf of akabahr. So the Lawrence of Arabia bit has been done – and yes I wore a ridiculous headscarf thing, photos are promised. But bizarre as I imagined centuries of bedouin life and camels as we trotted along the beach to then receive and e-mail welcoming me to saudi Arabia (50 miles over the water). Not sure T. E Lawrence would have approved.Back at the bedouin camp we were shown how to make unlevened bread, I duly gave it a go, quite fun flipping the dough from hand to hand to make it expand, then lowered it onto a seriously hot bread plate over the open fire. And then some bedouin music and dancing, it all seemd real enough, though in reality think they couldn’t wait for us to leavfe as Egypt were about to play Cameroon in the African nations cup final (Egypt won, 2-1, phew).So back in the hotel room, we are too tired to go crazy on our last night, so instead have packed the case and we’ve finished off the vodka – esssential to bring duty free out here, for obvious reasons. Oh and one other fact of life – although we are in egypt, we are not in Africa. This region (sinai), much fought over between egypt and Israeil over the years is a sort of inbetween region; technically we are in asia, and while being in egypt, one needs a visa to go to Egypt proper from here (Cairo and the like) – all a bit confusing.But it has been a great trip, far too relaxing for words, so a shock or two awaits back in blighty, no doubt.

…is the least bad Egyptian wine on the menu at the hotel here in the Hyatt rEgency here in Taba on egypt’s north-eastern corner on the red sea. Extraordinary place, you can walk for miles and still be in the hotel grounds, the Red Sea located at the end of the garden; 30 miles across the water – Jordan. To the left, Eilat, Israel’s Red sea resort. Over the water to the right: saudi Arabia. There is a point near the hotel when you can clearly see all three countries.
Despite being in egypt, this is not a holiday for the ancient sites. Cairo and Luxor just too far away, so another time. Just wonderful to feel a warm sun under deep blue skies, to have time to read – the Count of Monte Cristo is, as well as being very long (49 hours of audio), absolutely gripping, thank goodness.And simon and I seem to be known by everyone in the hotel, I suppose we are fairly visible as he guides me around. Most folks think we are brothers I think, or gay partners maybe. food highlights include plenty of houmos and a fantastic bread oven on site – so morning toast really is quite an experience Comedy moment with the egyptian doctor as bizzarrely I awoke on first morning with unusual sports injury – inflamed tendon of right big toe after heavy sleep and foot trapped in the bedclothes. anyway £50 later and a jab of voltorol in the derriere all seems well.So off for more swimming, slow newspaper reading, and the great dumas. Ahead: water skiing if the sea calms down a bit, and camel riding with the local bedouin tribe.

Always feels strange when the calendar ticks round to December. Is the year really 11/12ths through? Can I survive another couple of weeks at work before collapsing with exhaustion into a brandy-filled yuletide in Cranleigh?And then the panic: oh no, Christmas cards to write, presents to buy…except not this year. No cards, save paper and send folks an e-mail. And a present embargo except Clive and co in cranleigh so that’s manageable.

Apparently it’s a myth that London taxi drivers get more fares in the pouring rain. Well they aren’t well-known for having an optimistic outlook on life; though the lovely guy who helped me from camden to Waterloo via Covent Garden said in his best cockney: “It’s a myth (pronounced miff), mate.What’s the good of pouring rain? all the punters stay in; if they do go out, they go local. naah. Best day is a warm sunny day, get them all out in shorts and t-shirts, then the mother of a storm which soaks them to the skin. Then we’re quids in’.

I like talking to London taxi drivers in the main. This one was impressed that I was aware of North Gower St, and knew the roads around Bloombsbury. Then I owned up to living there, dear old Gower Mews mansions, in another life getting on for 20 years ago.

Have bene back from Uganda over a week and only just getting my head straight. The intensity of a tropical African country hits the soft European system in more ways than one. No hope of any blogging once we flew north, lucky to find power supply and a loo let alone internet connection. Though bizarrely excellent phone signal everywhere, much better than in Northcote Rd Battersea or down in Dorset!

Anyway promised Rhona at work a few blogs for the lancet’s student site, so rather than reinvent the wheel anyone interested should take a look at:

http://www.thelancetstudent.com/2007/10/30/northern-uganda-a-different-world/#more-366

But in summary, the main things that haunt me about the trip: horrendous sanitation, why can there not be water and basic sewage systems in a lush environment where it rains most days? Nutrition: again, lush environment, mango trees, ground nuts, some livestock, vegetables surely easy to grow – so why the grinding poverty and malnourished infants with swollen bellies reminiscent of those horrendous TV pictures from ethiopia in the mid 1980s? And finally…I will never forget lying in bed in Kampala the day before we left, raging fever in the middle of the night and the dismal struggle of finding the hole in the floor loo every half hour, not helped by the oversized bathroom door which made it almost impossible to get to the loo in less than 2 minutes. No that’s no way to sign off: the longest memory will be of the most warm, blackest skinned people (well not the Asian Ugandans I guess), and there wish to help you with everything, and their joy that you have taken the time and trouble to visit their extraordinary country. And what a divided country, the north verses the rest, to be documented in the Lancet before the end of the year.

Back on african soil after a sevenyear break, last time being AIDS 2000 meeting in durban. Kampala, Uganda’s capital, is just in the northern hemisphere – a mighty 0.05 degrees north, or 3 miles north of the equator nestling against Lake victoria, the largest saltwater lake in the world. But we’re also a long way east – the equivalent of somewhere in russia, between st Petersburg and Moscow, just a tad further south.

strange walking out of Entebbe airport this morning; was expecting noise and urban oppression, it was delightful, calm, lush, warm welcomes from the locals. so the 7 of us on this HART charity trip were bussed into Kampala. Only problem was the guest house wasn’t expecting us…so after 2 hours of ringing around we arrived at a lakeside hotel compound being prepared for a commonwealth meeting in a few months time. all mod cons, even internet access from the bedroom. Mossy nets up and apparently cocha, and the air con works thank goodness, it’s pretty oppressive. Kampala elegant and surrounded by hills and the lake; noisy birdlife and plenty of palm and jacaranda trees to paint a lush tropical picture.

Just settling in today; the hard work starts tomorrow when we head north to the camps and the orphanage. The plane taking us sounds small – we’ve had to submit our total weight, so now know the size of most folks on this trip…and what a group: a human rights lawyer, a pharmacist, dental hygienist, nurse, charity workers, and yours truly. raymond our man in Kampala is a delight. and Moses, his sidekick. How do you two know each other?’ someone asked. ‘we’re brothers’. Aha.Time to change some dollars into Ugandan shillings (several thousand to the pound of course), then a bath, nap, drink, supper, sleep.

caroline (Lady) Cox, our esteemed leader, is exceptional. 70 going on 25, full of energy, warmth, humour, impeccable manners to everyone she meets. she is also first out of the bus to offer her arm – we’ve started calling her ‘Simpson’.

Not often a film is almost as good as the book. Probably four years since I read it, but seeing Atonement at the Leicester Square Odeon the other night was pretty special.But only because I live in a civilised country, where blind people can turn up at the cinema and pick up a headset for additional dialogue to describe the look of the film that you cannot actually see. Audio description at the cinema is not common around the world, and the UK is leading the way here. Anyway I could tell from the extra help that the film was ravishing to look at, and brilliantly acted, especially the Brianey character – all three versions of it. Simpy snoozed all the way through and gave a french couple a shock at the end of the film when he emerged from under my seat, I spose you don’t often see dogs at the cinema, let alone dogs for blind people. Thank God again for the audio description, totally essential for Atonement, there is hardly a word uttered in the first 20 mins. The WW2 part seemed incredibly realistic, and oh my, that ending…

Dad thought it was really funny, I’m not so sure. See below, put in Dad’s jokey staff newsletter today.

Editors’ choice for this week is this close encounter of the medical kind, as related to LAN-zine by Richard L:

‘The Lancet hound was not happy. Having guided his master to the doctor’s surgery he settled down for a quick kip in the consulting room. Forgetting that
such consultations take around 90 seconds these days – and the doctor taken aback that the dog’s master worked for the Lancet – ‘of course you can have
a prescription, anything you like, just name it…’ – the hound was displeased to be hauled to his feet and directed to the consulting room door just moments
after arriving. ‘He really is a lovely dog’, said the good doctor. What is his name? On being told the Lancet hound’s name, the good doctor replied: ’symptom,
what a great name for a dog, especially one that works at The Lancet’. The Lancet hound and his master shook their heads in disbelief, suggesting that
the good doctor make an appointment with an audiologist.‘

In this the 150th year after his birth, eventually crossed several counties to visit Lower Broadheath, once a tiny hamlet now a suburb of Worcester. Huge thanks to Ronwen for negotiating a criss-cross journey and my navigational offerings. The place of his birth quite delightful: a tiny Victorian cottage, very well preserved, including old range in parlour as you enter the front door. Lovely rambling garden with shrubs, commemerations of E’s dogs (only permitted after his wife’s death); inside the house many fascinating artefacts: violin from his father’s music shop in Worcester, examples of his woodwork and interest in science (notably a microscope which replaced music as E’s primary interest 1920 onwards until his death in 1934). The musical museum near the cottage offered some wonderful insights into the man and the music – original score of the 2nd symphony, and a great audio tour of the museum and cottage narrated than by none other than Charles colling-thingy – Collinford? Anyway he plays Brian Aldrige in the Archers, I spose ‘Ambridge’ would be located fairly near the house of E’s birth.

Simpson patiently toured the place with us and headed up and bounded down the tiny spiral staircase solo to avoid accidents – E would very much have approved.

Afterwards to steep Malvern hills, s rolling and rolling for all his worth. Then that long drive back…Victoria Cross for Ronwen.

Huge excitement last night when Goldie gave me a new bone – they come with meaty stuff in the middle but that had been taken out as it gives us labradors funny tummies. But the bone itself is delicious, I gnawed it all evening and most of the night, which is maybe why my Dad had a funny dream (see his post below), and the strange coincidence this morning (he woke up at 3am and told me to be quiet, I was still chewing the bone).

Today Rachel in the office took me to Regents Park, it is picnic season now the weather has warmed up. She told me off a bit for being interested in other people’s picnicss. Got my paws on a sandwich but it was pretty old and rubbery. So back to the bone for me.

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