A Rolls Royce Life

This is straight from my imagination. This is what I think that being the owner of a Rolls would be like. I am writing this because a friend of mine once owned a Rolls, and I came upon a Rolls that was for sale at an amazingly low price. The reason was because it is a U.K. registered vehicle and has to be taken out of Spain back to the U.K. It got me to thinking what if!

What was on offer was a two-door, Phantom drop head coupe convertible in striking blue.

This was a lot of car for one man. Just standing close to it and running my hand along its fabulous lines was almost sexual. My emotions were telling me that I wanted this machine perhaps even more than I had ever wanted a woman.

I walked away from it with frequent looks from over my shoulder. For a long time after that encounter I thought about it, with the question of what kind of life is a Rolls life?

I think that this car is only for people who don't have to ask what things costs. If you live on a budget, move on. This is not for you or I. Also, if you are thinking of driving it yourself, perhaps you should not do that. When the Rolls is parked the driver should stay with it. That way, if we mere mortals should need to park our cars anywhere near it we can be supervised.

The image of a captain of industry sitting in the back doing work while sipping a glass of champagne is probably about right. In that regard he could be sitting in a train, or plane, or yacht. However, if you are a young owner, perhaps a successful entertainer, it still seems inappropriate to drive it yourself, but I suppose you could, but that would be unconventional.

It's also a convertible. A big convertible, but some time ago I came to the conclusion that convertibles are a bad idea. They look nice, but driving them means that you are behind the windscreen so you really don't get the full feel of wind in your hair, (if you have hair) but you do get the full feel of the hot sun on your head.

Finally, it's no good having a Rolls without a home to park the Rolls out front. You can't live in a simple flat, no matter how comfortable because a Rolls is not an apartment car. It needs a country estate to enter and to leave from to complete the image.

Even if I could afford a Rolls I don't think this would be the car for me. A Maserati however, is a different kettle of fish. Can we talk?

Copyright (c) 2015 Eugene Carmichael  

Security on the train

In my last blog I spoke about travelling by train from London to Valencia. While I had some problems with ticketing, the journey itself was very pleasent. When I boarded in St. Pancras, London I went through tight security as though I was flying, but when I boarded at Gare du Lyon, Paris there was absolutely no security at all. I could have dragged anything at all on board. Later in the trip we started making stops in the country, where, again people coming on board could have brought God-knows-what with them.

You have a lot of time to think as the train speeds along and you look out at the changing scenery. I did reflect on the difference in security, and I marvelled that given the odd things that people are doing these days, I thought it amazing nothing of a serious nature had happened on a train that I was aware of. I didn't mention this in my blog because I did not want to possibly bring the lack of security to the attention of the wrong person.

What a difference a week can make. This week a very serious attempt was made to kill a train full of people by a man loaded down with weapons. Thankfully, he was brought down by people near to him who were prepared to act quickly and decisively. Without their actions we would be dealing with a very grave tragedy.

Now it is clear for all to see that probably most trains of Europe lack security. We take our lives in our own hands, in most cases when boarding a train. However, having said that perhaps we should pause and count the ways that our lives can end in violence, and ask the question: Why is this so?

In the Western Hemisphere, for which I include Europe, people have been killed at work. A number have been killed in restaurants while simply having a meal. People have been killed on buses and the metro. While sunning themselves on the beach half naked, 38 people were attacked for doing nothing at all. Others were attacked just because they were curious about culture in a musuem. Still others were killed while attending church or bible study.  Others have been killed by simply going about their business, including in the cinema, and sometimes by the police who are supposed to serve and to protect.

I have probably not included every type of incidence that may end your life, but of course we have to add the old standby of travelling by plane, and now train to get from one place to another.

What is really happening?

The only thng I can think of, especially when we factor in all the regional conflicts that end so many lives, is that we may be seeing Mother Nature at work in culling of the human species. Seven billion people on the planet is too many to be sustained. By 2050 it has been said that earth's population will reach ten billion. That cannot happen. Such numbers cannot sustain themselves and earth's resources will be well over stretched. So, we are seeing strange happenings that fall short of the nuclear option, but it is not too strange to believe that that solution will not be used.

No-one is happy about this, but reality can be harsh.

Copyright (c) 2015  Eugene Carmichael 

Long Distance Train Journeys

Every once in a while I get the feeling I would like to take a long, uninterrupted train ride. I flew to England to attend a wedding, which is worthy of a blog on its own, but I chose to return by train, leaving St. Pancras, London, for a run down to Paris through the Euro Tunnel. From there the journey would take me to Barcelona, and from Barcelona to Valencia. I reasoned that much time on trains should get the obsession out of my system for a while.

"The best laid plans of men and mice often go astray." A very wise man said that, and all too often it turns out to be true. On April 1st I bought my train tickets for travel on August 9th. That gave me very useful discounts. (Or, so I thought!) On August 8th I presented myself at the EuroStar machine and punched in my six digit code and out should have come my ticket. Machine had no information about me, so I spoke to a person who looked and said she could see where a reservation had been made for me, but as no money had been received they had no ticket for me.

This is absolutely the worst thing that can happen to a traveller at the end of his holiday when, supposedly you have spent all your budget. I originally paid 161 euros for this leg of the journey, now it cost 222 euros.  I set off the next day, very early after having spent a totally restless night in the world's worst hotel. Leaving St. Pancras is boring. There is nothing worth looking at, so I decided to close my eyes at that point so as to be awake for the run through the countryside. I awoke and I was in the country, but the countryside of France. Ah well!

My arrival in Paris was at La Gare du Nord. I needed to get to La Gare du Lyon fast, as for all I knew I had no ticket for the onward journey. I approached a taxi and the driver said he would be pleased to drive me, but the fare would be 75 euros. Sweet Jesus! O.K. I didn't have time to argue the point, or so I thought.

Gare du Lyon was the most confusing station I have ever encountered. There was no ticket waiting for me there, and it was thought that I might not get space on any of the trains to Barcelona that day. Even I was amazed how calm I was, but when I finally got to the ticket seller there was space, but not until the 4 pm train. I could have walked over from Gare du Nord, I had so much time to wait. For this leg of the journey I had previously paid 100 euros, which was heavily discounted, but now it cost 232 euros.  At least I would arrive in Barcelona that night where my pre-paid hotel room was waiting for me.

This was a fast train, travelling at up to 300 kmph, but nevertheless it took six hours. It was comfortable and the scenery quite interesting. I didn't acquire a seat companion for a long time, so I was alone with my thoughts and a constantly changing picture from my window. When I finally did get a companion, he turned out to be Benjamin, a Frenchman who spoke fluent English. His second love is sailing, (he will marry his first love next month) which is something I know a little about. We got to talking about the evolution of sailing and much of our conversation centered around the world of the America's Cup class of futuristic competition.

There is one part of that journey in Perpignan where the train crosses the marsh flats. As you look out the windows on both sides the train appears to be a boat because there is water all around. I have to assume there is a bridge network, but if so it is very low to the water.

To make a long story shorter, the rest of my trip went well. A good night's rest was had in Barcelona at a hotel that more than made up for the night before, and the next morning I caught my train for the run down to Valencia, and home at last.

I told people in England that they were having much more comfortable weather than was Spain. England had 27 degrees, dry, and sunny weather. Amazing! Spain had been having high 30's, and mid 40's, together with thunderstorms. England was pretty pleased to realise that for once they were the winners.

If I had it to do again I would not rely solely on a six digit code to produce my tickets. At least I would insist on confirmation through the agency that my payment had been received and properly credited.

Copyright (c) 2015  Eugene Carmichael