Despite a busy lifestyle we would frequently go away in late summer and one of the locations we used to enjoy visiting was the calm and quiet Norfolk Broads. And so, it was a bright sunny day when we pulled into a boat yard to collect the vessel we had hired.
There were just the two of us, my wife and I. We were shown around the delights of, I suppose what one would call half a narrow boat, as it was not the normal length of a standard version, but more than suitable for the ten days we planned touring the water ways.
What is a better way to start a holiday than to find a delightful restaurant and sit down to a decent meal. On this occasion we had left the boat yard on a beautiful day, the sun bristling off the aquatics while we were chugging, I almost said sailing, along the waterways, as we looked out for such a place.
There it was standing upright and tall and very inviting. I guess we were a bit late for the best mooring outside the hostelry, however we found a spot a little way from the building beside a tall grass embankment. It was a lovely day, warm and bright as we secured the boat and climbed up the slope of the bank to the towpath and strolled along to the eatery.
Sometimes it is a little astonishing how quickly the weather can change. We were enjoying each other’s company when darkness fell across the windows as a rainstorm plundered the outside with water. We looked at each other, smiled and ordered another drink, certain in our mind that it would go as quickly as it had arrived.
It didn’t! Closing time arrived. The rain had eased a little, but it was still coming down heavily, however it was time to make our way along the towpath dressed in summery outfits.
Horror! The lovely looking grass embankment had turned to mud – with the wind blowing and with nowhere else to go, we slipped down its steep side, landing in the open end of the boat, both of us covered in greasy brown liquid. We laughed at the mess as we cleaned up. Well, we were on holiday.
The wind, which had arrived with the storm, did not abate. In the morning it was still blowing strongly, so much so that it was pushing the boat broad side on, with its long flat side against the grassy edge of the river. The boat did not have enough power to force it into the wind and off the mooring. As it was not possible to navigate against the strength of the airstream, the answer was to let the flow of the river take us away backwards.
NHS Bureaucracy
There is a true story written by a recognised and respected journalist which sums up the situation in the United Kingdom, a government in power but with very little authority. Richard Littlejohn is an established journalist whose career has lasted fifty or more years, and as he invites us to share his words, I will.
Richard Littlejohn’s words – Last year, my left knee gave way. There was no chance of seeing my NHS GP, so I went private.
The consultant sent me for an MRI scan. I was offered an appointment the next day, at 7.40pm.
When I turned up at the diagnostic centre, the place was practically deserted. Given the late hour, I assumed I was their last patient.
‘You must be rushed off your feet right now,’ I remarked to the nurse. ‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘We’ve been sitting here twiddling our thumbs all day.’
Why then, I wondered, hadn’t I been offered an earlier time slot?
She explained that the NHS had booked the facility for the duration but hadn’t bothered sending along any patients.
When I mentioned this to my consultant, he said it was par for the course. He told me that the NHS bureaucracy was ideologically opposed to using private healthcare.
So, while NHS hospitals were dealing exclusively with Covid cases, patients with other ailments were being denied treatment which was available elsewhere — even though it was bought and paid for.
Back to me – In other words, we have a Government elected by a majority being prevented from moving forward on its programme by powerful forces within, who have their own agenda. Comparable to us with our boating experience, trapped with a controlling force stopping us from moving.
Perhaps that is why it is difficult to obtain a doctor’s appointment?
Chalking:
It seems to me the people in authority in the United Kingdom are hamstrung by laws that, in my opinion, should not have been introduced, as they must attend to simple complaints which have to be investigated, taking up real time and cost, to the detriment of other real Police matters.
However, it was refreshing to see a story where children, not old enough to be in double figures, instead of studying a flickering screen, with the chances of misinformation, were doing something real and progressive, using their young minds to develop games in the open air – they were playing Hopscotch by drawing squares on the pavement in chalk, which is not a permanent item as it washes off with a heavy dew or certainly when it rains, not unusual in the streets of Britain.
Very much to Sarah Goodwin, the mothers disgust, a neighbour complained about vandalising the pavement – but they did not stop there as they called the police who came to the scene to investigate the youngsters and the chalk lines on the pavement – surely the Police have enough to do without scrutinising children playing hopscotch with chalk squares on the pathway? Take care.
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