Costing not less than everything

As so often before, I've left a long time between posts. But being greenish has been looming large in my awareness lately, and a good deal of the reason has been this year's Swarthmore Lecture.

The Swarthmore is an annual lecture given at the time of the Quaker Yearly Meeting, the annual nationwide get-together for decision making and inspiration, and 'to see each other's faces'. This year it was residential at the University of Kent at Canterbury, with some 1500 Quakers and their families, including the Junior Yearly Meeting for 16-18 year olds: my lovely granddaughter was one of the Clerks (chair people). The Swarthmore was given by Pam Lunn, with the title at the head of this entry - it comes from T S Eliot's well known 'Four Quartets'.

The lecture was both information and a challenge: it showed that for the human race to survive we need to act now in radical ways, and set out a path for saving the planet with us still on it. My response, as the lecture called for, was both personal - what I will do myself - and corporate, thinking of what Quakers collectively might do.

One thing I've been aware of for some time is how fortunate I am to have the immense luxury of a whole house to myself. Yes, it's only a little two bed mid terrace house in the North East of England, not everyone's idea of a des res, but in global terms it's unashamed luxury, not that far removed from the Queen living in Buckingham Palace (which she doesn't have to herself anyway). So I've suggested that several single people might live communally, having their own living space within a largish house but sharing things you don't need to have exclusive use of, like a washing machine and a lawnmower, and even a car. My own little yellow treasure, Buttercup, stays in my back yard more days than not: someone else could be using her if they needed a car rather than buying one themselves. She's very low emissions (and hence costs only £30 a year to tax) and economical to run. I put this suggestion in our local Quaker newsletter, and so far have had one positive response.

Corporately, it occurred to me that the world-wide Quaker body is running a gathering next year in Kenya, and inviting a thousand Quakers to it from all over the world. Most will fly, and for most it will mean a long haul flight, if not two. The carbon footprint will be huge. So I've written to 'The Friend', the national Quaker weekly periodical, calling for it to be cancelled as a way of matching our actions to our words. If they publish it, it will undoubtedly stir up some controversy. But I'm serious: 'Quakers cancel international conference to avoid carbon footprint' would make a good headline, and show that we are serious in calling for radical action to halt global warming and help sustain the planet. The conferences, normally every three years, do bring Quakers together on a global level, and are (I'm told, I've never been to one) enjoyable and inspiring occasions. But I don't think any major outcome has resulted from any of the previous ones, and to make a very public act of reducing our contribution to greenhouse gases might well have a bigger and more beneficial result for the planet as a whole. So my call is a serious one. I'll try to keep up on here with the consequences, if indeed the letter is published in the first place.

I'm uncomfortably aware, of course, that last year I flew some thirty thousand miles to Australia and Aetearoa New Zealand and back, travelling amongst Quakers in the former and holidaying with my sister in the latter. I've wanted to go back to Australia ever since: but I'm beginning to sense that my own contribution to this movement will be not to do so. I can't even really justify the one long haul flight I'm likely to make before I settle to being an old lady, to India to see the Taj Mahal: it will be simply self indulgence, and maybe when the time comes I'll eschew that one too. And going back to Los Gigantes in Tenerife: that may take some soul-searching. But you don't have to be perfect to suggest good deeds to others: if you did then none of us would make any such suggestions, and the world would be a poorer place. It does remind me of an old prayer, 'Lord, make me chaste, but not yet....'. Apart from the Australia trip, I'd done only six long haul return flights in my life, plus twice to Tenerife and back: more than some, less than others. But maybe nobody is 'entitled' to a share of air travel: on a planetary level, we should all be campaigning for its abolition, however unlikely that may seem.

Maybe I'll go by boat.....

Ten out of ten?

I've been reminded, this week, of the 'Ten-Ten' challenge. This was to reduce one's personal carbon footprint by 10% during a twelve month period starting at a date of one's own choosing some time during 2010 from the previous 12 months.

I really don't think much to this kind of attempt to jolly people into turning off the lights more: hasn't the rise after rise in electricity prices been incentive enough? And whenever we pick the arbitrary start date, why on earth didn't we start reducing our footprint before that date anyway? For myself, the task was easy: having flown around 30,000 miles between February and mid April 2010, all I had to do was to choose to start on May 1st and I was bound to have more than exceeded the 10% target reduction, because I was going to fly very much less during the year from May 2010 to May of this year. I've flown from Newcastle to Newquay and back, in a greenish little aeroplane - well, back was a tiny little thing as far as Bristol where I broke the journey, and then dear old EasyJet Airbus back, but with payment conscientiously made for the carbon offsetting. I doubt me if I'll be flying anywhere again before May, though the idea of a week in Tenerife is still a desirable one.

We saw so much, with the previous government, how targets don't improve what you do but distort it so as to achieve some almost random measure of 'performance'. Tony Blair was amazed to find that his targets for people seeing doctors resulted in worse appointment systems, not better ones, but it was inevitable given the way the target was set up. If you want everyone to be seen within two days of making an appointment, clearly you can't let people make appointments for a week ahead, however much they might want to. So in setting green targets, there's little point in asking people to make some particular reduction in their carbon output: they'll have done all the reasonable things already, and this will only antagonise them because there are lengths to which most folk simply won't go that would be required to do any more, at least of any significance.

And in fact I'm not convinced that personal micromanagement is of much use anyway. When Apartheid ruled in South Africa, I boycotted South African goods, but I had no illusions that this would in any way affect the South African economy: it affected me, and that was why I did it. I happened to read, a couple of months ago, that the airline Emirates has ordered no fewer than 90 Airbus 380 aircraft, the double decker super-jumbo that seats up to 700 passengers, and most of these are yet to be delivered. Bearing in mind that these aircraft will be flying more hours than not, in order to earn their keep, the amount of carbon emissions involved dwarfs any savings any individual might make: and that's just one airline. So what is needed is not individuals making tiny changes but groups and mass movements calling for a change in corporate and governmental attitudes. I've said before that the kids may feel they're doing their bit by turning the tap off when cleaning their teeth, but they'd do better to wave posters saying 'Tax flying now' or even 'limit flying now'. A global personal limit of so many miles per person per year, transferable at a set price, would do a lot more to limit air traffic and cut down the huge growth in emissions in this area which goes against the promised Governmental trend of reducing overall the national emissions. After all, less and less do business personnel have to physically travel nowadays: the meeting can be held by virtual conference in several parts of the globe simultaneously, and it works perfectly well - I've done it. I've sat in Newcastle and joined in a meeting in Birmingham, Manchester and Bristol - and it could just as well have been Birmingham, Alabama as Birmingham, England. So why fly across the atlantic when you can internet! It's this kind of attitude we need to cultivate.

When I went to Australia, I squandered some of my inheritance and went business class. Oh, believe me, it makes a huge, huge difference. It makes the journey a delight rather than a trial, and it really does deliver the businessman ready to do business. I arrived in Adelaide at 7.30 am, normally a disastrous time for me, after about 30 hours continuous travelling with two changes of plane, and felt rested, refreshed, well fed and watered and ready to go. I'd slept a good deal, eaten and drunk as I pleased, been entertained and pampered and really enjoyed the whole thing. I can now understand why someone I'd heard of, whose father was a BA employee and so who got a ration of free air travel, went business class to Sydney for the weekend: the fun was in the journey, never mind breathing the fresh air of Sydney Harbour. If nations agreed to abolish business class, I'd predict that flying would hugely decrease. You'd probably have to abolish First as well, except for Royalty perhaps, and there would be howls of protest: but you'd have a diminishing rather than a growing air transport industry.

Maybe these suggestions are nonsense, maybe they wouldn't work for a variety of reasons, maybe the vested interests are too deeply entrenched for anything like that to happen. Bristolians who assemble the airbus wings certainly wouldn't be happy at the prospect of losing their jobs. But my point is that global warming is on a global scale, and needs global scale measures to tackle it: little domestic improvements, even if done by millions, will hardly scratch the surface.

So until then, pardon me if I fly to Cornwall rather than suffer Arriva Cross Country, with the first four hours of the run home having not so much as a cup of tea available on board. Alongside the ninety super jumbos of Emirates, it really won't make too much difference.

Carry on blogging!

One of my own difficulties in keeping up a blog is that once anything is finished, I find it hard to 'finalise' it: hence the ends of bits of blog tend not to get written. So I never wrote up the end of my Grand Tour, which included a very pleasant drive through wonderful Autumn colours, a visit to the ballet in Plymouth, a visit to another historic Quaker meeting house in Long Sutton, Somerset, a trip round Stonehenge and a delightful day in Reading with two old friends.

However, all that is in the past and I'm in Cornwall again, having flown down this time (in, I have to say, one of the greenest of aircraft, if any aircraft can be considered green!). We were only just able to land because of fog, which had caused us to be diverted from Plymouth, the scheduled first port of call, to Newquay where I was going anyway! But flying was both a good deal cheaper and much quicker than travelling by train, and I do find nowadays that long train journeys in standard class are a real trial: I end up feeling cramped and arthritic and quite out of sorts, which is why I travel First whenever I can, and when it's not too much extra.

Cornwall so far has been a bit damp and windy, but it's nowhere near as cold as back home in Newcastle. It was up to a balmy ten degrees earlier today! I have been wondering, in the very cold spell the whole country has had in general and the North East worse than most, at least in England, what happened to global warming, and please could we have a bit of it here just now? I can understand, having had snow in the garden for over a month continuously, why people wonder if it's really happening at all. Don't get me wrong, I'm a believer, but sometimes as I shiver I do just long for the summer days, and when I see the pictures of the Test Matches I ache to be back in Australia!

So a definitely not-all-that-Green visit this time: but looking forward to the New Year's Eve celebration with my good friends, knowing there will be a wonderful meal tomorrow and the setting off of rockets and skylanterns to celebrate the start of 2011. May it fulfil all its promises! And maybe I'll keep this blog up more regularly too.

The Grand Tour, days 7 and 8

Down in Cornwall at last, this is the far point of the tour. I'm with my friend Angie and her partner: and I'm here a day earlier than originally planned because of changes to the schedule due to my inadequate communications! So on Saturday I was able to have a quiet day, helping with the shopping and then going for a very enjoyable walk in rhe local woods in the sunshine

On Sunday I had the delight of going to Come-to-Good Meeting. This is in a very special Meeting House, Grade I listed and dating from 1710. I'd wanted to go for ages, but this was the first time I'd been in Cornwall with the car, which was necessary. My trusty SatNav Daisy found the way without difficulty, and I arrived in very good time. The benches were a little rigorous, but there were also chairs and cushions to put on them, and that was a good compromise. It was a lovely meeting, all about simplicity, and I enjoyed chatting with Friends (two of whom I knew) afterwards.

After Sunday Lunch with relatives of my hosts, I was able to have a pleasant and lazy afternoon nap before going to take photographs of a church parade that happened to be that day. We ended the day with a scratch supper and a bout of television watching: definitely a day of resting from our labours!

So on the whole an uneventful two days: but the next two were planned to be much more active. Watch this space!

The Grand Tour, days 5 and 6

One reason for stopping overnight in Ross on Wye was its proximity to Slimbridge. I've been a member of the Wildfowl and Wetlands trust for some years now, mainly to go round the Washington wildfowl park, and had not visited any of their other places. So I made a relatively early start, and headed for the Slimbridge wetlands area.
It's quite a big place, with pond, riverside and estuary areas, and I walked round most of it. Birds were in abundance, including three different kinds of flamingo! Nothing much of the rarer birds, though: a man clearly much more expert than me told me there were three Ruffs on the far side of the pond I could see, but my little binoculars couldn't pick them out. However, even on a dull morning it was an enjoyable experience, and I spent a couple of hours there before heading southwards to my next port of call, Glastonbury.
I arrived there mid-afternoon, and spent the best part of two more hours walking round the square of the town and looking at shops (so much New Age, so much tourist tat). Arriving at the far corner, I passed the Chalice Well - a lovely garden, as I know from a previous visit - but decided instead to take the exercise of climbing the Tor. It took me twenty minutes of hard climb, but such good exercise: just a pity the still misty day meant that the view was not all it might have been. And here's the photographic evidence that I made it!
My hotel was about three miles out, a charming place once the summer home of the Abbot of Glastonbury. The room was more luxurious than the one in Ross, but had less putting place and was in fact somewhat smaller, though with a bigger bathroom. I unpacked, snoozed and then drove back into Glastonbury for an Indian meal - as ever in Indian restaurants, there was enough for two, but I was good and didn't over-eat.
It had been a busy day, and I slept well.
Next morning the weather was still dull, and after breakfast I decided that rather than going back to visit the Chalice Well garden, I'd get on and get down to Cornwall. I made good time and arrived at Mike and Sue's in time for a bite of lunch. We always fall almost into the conversation we had last time we met, it's a delightfully easy relationship. After a bit I went for a snooze: Mike and Sue had their Home Group at someone else's house in the early evening, so I was able to do very little and watch the news before enjoying Sue's tasty echilladas and watching Dad's Army (recorded) and New Tricks (live). A pleasant end to the day!

The Grand Tour, days 3 and 4

On Tuesday, Christine (my hostess) was back at work, so I had the day to myself. I'd originally thought of taking the train into Liverpool: being very much a city woman, I could see myself enjoying just wandering around, looking at one or two of the many museums and art galleries, finding a nice bite to eat and coming home early enough for a relaxing nap. However, the day dawned rather dull, and I was feeling a little tired after the exertions of yesterday: so instead I had a very quiet and lazy morning, doing not very much, and then taking the local bus into Chester. Christine had mentioned a tour at the Grosvenor Museum starting at 2, and I thought it might be interesting to go on this. So I found a place for a light(ish) lunch - jacket potato and something or other - and then went up to the museum, arriving in good time. I checked at the desk that there was indeed a tour at 2, and the man said yes: and sure enough, a tour guide appeared - and started checking names on a list! So I asked her if I could come as well, and she said that it was fully booked. Neither Christine nor the man at the desk had said anything about booking. The guide said that not everyone had turned up, so there might still be a space, so I waited. In the end, she took all 25 who had booked and five more 'hopefuls' like me who hadn't. Now I'd thought it was a tour of the museum: but in fact it was a walk around the town, looking at evidence of viking occupation. In fact there is very little of this, and most of it not now visible: excavations have found post-holes and odd bits of wattle and daub, but not much more. But there have been three finds of silver hordes, mostly coins: and apparently both DNA and name evidence makes it pretty clear that vikings did settle in this part of the world, around 700 - 950 or so. The walk ended with bits I'd see with Christine the previous day, so I left it then and went back home after a fruitless search for cheap headphones, having left mine at home by mistake.
This was my last evening in Chester, and Christine - happy birthday, it was indeed hers that day - took me to her film club to see a fascinating Belgian film about a Belgian girl going to work for a big Japanese corporation. She finds a major clash of culture, and the Japanese staff do nothing to help her adjust to their ways. She sticks it out to the end of her one year contract, and then goes home and becomes a successful writer. 'Fear and Trembling' (the way one is supposed to approach the Emperor) was well worth seeing, though there were problems with what it was trying to say and how far it was a Belgian view of Japanese corporate life rather than a real one. Worth a try should you see it on offer, though.

Next day I took Christine to work in Wrexham on my way south. I'd intended to call in at the Nightingales factory shop in Craven Arms, but sadly this is no more: this lovely clothing company is now part of the J D Williams group, and is in my view likely to decline as a result. So I pressed on to Ludlow, a place I'd visited a few years ago and enjoyed, and this time I had time to go round the castle. Edward V and his brother Richard both lived here as young boys: a lovely place to live, I should think, with comfortable quarters (lots of fireplaces in evidence!) and beautiful countryside to explore.
I had lunch in the same wholefood cafe as before, the Olive Branch (highly recommended if you're in Ludlow), and then drove on, guided by Daisy (my satnav, called Daisy because she goes with my little yellow car which is called Buttercup) to Ross on Wye, my overnight stop. I went into the town centre first and had a brief walk round, enjoying a riverside walk and a look at a few possible eating places. Then I (or rather Daisy) found my B & B, and very comfortable it was too, and in walking distance of town. I had a snooze, then followed the landlady's recommendation and ate at the Kings Arms. Christine is a vegetarian, and I'm not, so I settled for a locally produced Cotswold Steak with a superb blue cheese sauce, beautifully cooked vegetables - four of them - and new potatoes rather than chips. All in all an excellent feast, and a good way to end day four of the tour.

The Grand Tour - first two days

At last! my long planned tour of various friends in various parts of the UK has finally got under way. Not without incident: alas, the Open Golf in Wales meant that the dates I'd hoped to make a visit there coincided with a postponed start of the University term, so my lovely friend Tracey couldn't have me to stay on those dates: and due to my own stupidity in not confirming a rather informal suggestion that I visit in Bristol, my relative there found that this was the busiest week of her year and it really wasn't a good time for me to go! However, such things can also be opportunities, and so I'm going to be able to have some time in Ross on Wye, a place I've not been to since I was about 15, and Glastonbury where I've not been for 15 years (this is the town, not the festival). So I'm looking forward to some quiet, peaceful times in both those places.
So here I am, at the first port of call in Chester. I arrived on Sunday evening, and before even unpacking the car much I started work in the kitchen. Christine, my hostess, had herself only just got home from a working weekend, so I'd said I would bring the wherewithal to make stuffed peppers for supper (she's a vegetarian), and another mutual friend joined us. I always enjoy cooking for people and this was no exception: and we had a very pleasant meal with good conversation and a totally quaffable bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

Next day dawned a superb, cloudless sight, and it seemed a shame to follow Plan A and do some computer education and book Christine a coach journey on line. So we went into Chester, on foot as we had, it turned out, missed the local bus due to the timetable having been altered, and looked at the ruins of St. John's church which was founded in Saxon times. It's a fascinating building: it was once the Cathedral in Chester, and King Edgar, having been actually crowned at Bath Abbey, came there for his Lords to pay homage to him. Then we went on past what you can see of the amphitheatre, which would be the largest Roman amphitheatre in Britain if it were not half under buildings, one of which is Grade II listed despite having little architectural merit, in my eyes at least. We had time to walk part of the walls before going home to lunch.

After lunch we went to pick up Christine's friend Irene and then drove up to Studley Hall, once home of the Holt family (the Holt shipping line was in existence until some time after the war). Here there was a fascinating collection of paintings, the personal collection of George Holt, and very impressive: it included Turners, Burne Jones, Rosetti and other pre-Raphaelite artists as well as earlier ones such as Reynolds and Gainsborough. What a feast! We had a thoroughly enjoyable time looking at many rooms full of pictures before having tea outside and then taking a walk in the park before going home.

Not just the Amazon Rainforests

Interesting to learn, in the National Museum of Aotearoa New Zealand, Te Papa, that before the Maori people came here about a thousand years ago, a very high proportion of the lowlands of this country was forest. Maori needs and practices cut this down by a fair amount: but when the white settlers started moving in, around 1840, even more forest was cut down to make farmland, and much of that was to supply the UK with cheap meat and dairy products. The New Zealand Lamb industry, for so long a mainstay of the British food supply, had meant the clearing of forests long before the concerns about MacDonalds chopping down stuff in Brazil for beef ranching. So the connection between meat-eating and the environment goes back a long way. Now, the lowlands here are 51% grassland, well above the world average of 37%, and most of that used to be for sheep, though in recent years market forces have made many farmers switch to cattle.

Having said that, it's not going to change in a hurry, and I don't see any sign that New Zealand's contribution to climate change might be to replant forests. In a country where most of the electricity seems to be from renewable sources (there's a lot of scope for hydro here) I don't think the rest of us can complain that they aren't doing their bit already. But as the money in sheep farming declines, it might be an option, as indeed it might in many other places. Should replanting forests be on more nation's agendas?