Man on the Moon

When I grew up in Birmingham, there was a nearby pub called the Man in the Moon. I never actually went there, but it was a very well-known local landmark. Lots of people can see a man in the moon when they look at the full moon, at least in the northern hemisphere, where it's appropriately oriented. Mind you, in some cultures, they see a chicken, or a rabbit. (I see mountains and plains and craters, but that's another story.)

When NASA landed the Apollo 11 astronauts on the Moon, on 20 July 1969, lots of people chose to watch it on TV at the Man in the Moon, where free drinks and a big party were on offer. That night the pub changed its name.

One small name change for Man..........


I finally made it there on my recent trip. Opinion among locals I consulted was divided about the merits of the place, so I consulted Tripadvisor. And it came up pretty good. Take a look: https://www.tripadvisor.com.au/Restaurant_Review-g186402-d3502108-Reviews-The_Man_on_the_Moon-Birmingham_West_Midlands_England.html

Sombre Somme commemoration

We were walking through the Worcestershire town of Bromsgrove, when we came across this strange scene. At first it looked like there had been a coup d'état. The post Brexit political ructions must have gone a bit too far for the establishment. Or maybe there was filming going on for yet another nostalgic British wartime drama. It's what they do best, of course. (And they hadn't been all that good at being Europeans, so maybe they were just doing what they do well again.)

But no, it was something more unusual. It was a rather memorable and thoughtful historical commemoration. On 1 July, 1916, the Battle of the Somme started. That day was the worst day in history for the British Army, with more than 57,000 casualties. By November 300,000 soldiers were dead (roughly equal numbers on both sides), and over a million injured.

The Bromsgrove event was one of several hundred such performances up and down the UK on 1 July this year. Actors were secretly hired and dressed in period uniforms. When people approached (like me - I spoke to a couple of soldiers) they remained sombre and silent, but handed over a card bearing the name and rank of the fallen soldier they were representing.

We couldn't decide whether the little "Have you got a light?" episode we witnessed was part of the act, or whether the lady just happened along and wanted a light. It was interesting theatre either way.

Broken Britain?

This chap's looking appropriately horrified about the results of the Brexit referendum. I'd shown him the coverage in a Sydney newspaper I'd taken with me.

Needless to say, the Brtish newspapers (and TV news, and much personal conversation) were also totally dominated by the subject during our visit. We saw with our own eyes how the issue had 'divided families'and 'split friendships', just as we'd heard.

I'd tell them all what a good job Britain was doing keeping the whole world entertained, what with all the ructions and multiple plot-twists every day from both sides of politics. Both major parties experienced leadership resignations or rebellions. And neither seemed to have very clearly defined procedures for appointing new leaders. It was all being fought out in a very scrappy way, seemingly with rules getting made up along the way.

As for the Labour leadership election (ballot closes 21 September), registered supporters were being frantically recruited by supporters and opponents of the incumbent (proudly socialist) leader, Jeremy Corbyn. When I met up with four of my old uni friends for a get-together, it turned out that two of the four had just registered for the vote. Both were going to vote for Corbyn. One admired the man and wants him to run the country. The other supports independence party UKIP, and wants Corbyn to win because he's sure this will destroy the Labour Party!

Baddesley Clinton

Green and pleasant England was fairly green and pleasant again this trip. And one of the things you need to do in the green and pleasant land is to visit a stately home.

This time we chose the moated manor house, Baddesley Clinton. It's in Warwickshire, just outside Solihull, and it's also been described as an average early modern home of the lesser gentry.

It's got a rich history, priest holes, and a gunpowder plot connection. There are gardens to explore, a pleasant cafe, and the tour of the house itself was particularly informative. The volunteers seemed exceptionally attuned to selectively giving just the right amount of attention and information to those likely to want it, I thought.


Here's the Gunpowder Plot Society's piece on the place:
http://www.gunpowder-plot.org/baddesley.asp

Cream of the crop

My Austrian relatives here run a thriving family business. As well as the dairy farm, they supply a range of fine dairy products, meats, and breads. They work very hard, and in Austria (unlike so often in Australia) hard-working dairy farmers can be well rewarded. They have a good life.

We watched the evening milking session, and then admired the certificates of merit on the wall of the milking shed. Lauda, Liza, Lotte, and Lady, among others, had done themselves proud, with lifetime milk production of up to 80,000kg. I checked, and this is considerably more than a typical worldwide average. They haven't yet reached the 216,891kg produced by a cow named Smurf, in Ontario, Canada, up until 2012,but maybe they'll get there yet.

Austria's Open-Air Museum

We spent several hours exploring Austria's Freilichtmuseum (Open-Air Museum) at Stübing, near Graz, and it wasn't long enough. You'd really need a whole day to do it justice, or even two or three days.

It's a collection of about a hundred traditional rural houses, brought from all corners of the country, and resurrected in one valley. You stroll around, and learn lots about traditional rural lifestyles.

It was a bit dark and gloomy inside some of the dwellings. That's how life was before electricity, of course.

But the bright floral displays would have helped to compensate. Modern day Austria is still a bright, pretty, floral sort of place too.











And I rather liked all the water wheels, powering flour mills and sawmills.

(Not so) evil creek

In Austria we stayed in the village of  Übelbach, which translates as 'Evil Creek'. Most of the time the creek that passes through it is more like a babbling brook, but after a sudden summer thunderstorm, it showed its darker side for a while.

The creek was indeed rather wild and dangerous looking, and after the weather cleared, the village had an unusually dramatic look to it.
















Usually it's bright and cheerful though. An idyllic, picturesque place.










As the tourist brochure puts it: "Gar nicht so übel", sagt jeder, der schon in Übelbach war. "Wirklich einen Ausflug wert." ("Not so evil", says everyone who's been to Übelbach. "Really worth a visit.")











The same publication describes the inhabitants as 'Lauter lustige Leut'. (Cheery, colourful people.) And that can't be bad either.