Looking for something to suit my mood.
I’ve been reading the headlines and it seems that nothing else is going on except COVID 19, bar a plane crash, and residual fallout from the explosion in Beirut.
All bad news unfortunately, so I need to find something uplifting.
There’s nothing like a walk in the park on a bright sunny day.
Is there?
What could possible happen?
Tag: Thoughts
The cinema of my dreams – It’s a treasure hunt – Episode 18
Here’s the thing…
Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.
I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.
But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.
Once again there’s a new instalment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt.
The pier had been moving gently up and down in response to a passing speed boat that had flouted the minimum speed law, like most of the speed boat owners.
On board the boat, the movement was more pronounced, and it was a bad time to remember that I get seasick, even standing on the pier. My stomach was suddenly queasy.
Boggs was standing by the hatch that led down below. It was locked with a big padlock so there was no way we were getting below. Along the side of the boat was a raised section with windows, but there were curtained off, and the material was faded and looked dirty.
Boggs walked along the narrow walkway to the bow and tried the hatch in the middle of the foredeck.
I noticed the boat was tied to the pier fore and aft with some think rope and funny looking knots. I don’t think I’d make a very good sailor. I looked up to the top of the mast and it made me feel dizzy. It was a long way up.
Behind me was an area where people could seat, and further back a large wheel which I assumed was how the boat was steered. I could just see Rico standing behind it, captain’s hat on, looking all business-like.
“There’s nothing to see here,” I said, turning back towards Boggs, who was now coming along the other side of the cabin. One slip and he’d be in the ocean. I looked over the side and it didn’t look very deep. I could even see some small fish swimming near the pylon that was covered below the waterline with seaweed.
Boggs stopped at the last window, then knelt down and peered in.
“What do you see?”
“There’s someone in there?”
“Rico?”
“No. I saw him leave earlier. Someone else.”
“You know who it is?”
“No. Never seen him before. A guy in a suit. Not the sort of person I’d expect Rico to know, or have as a friend.”
“What’s he doing?”
Boggs changed his position to get a better look. “He’s just sitting…oh my God, there’s blood.”
“Where?”
I moved quickly over to where Boggs was crouched. “Give us a look?” Curiosity was overtaking concern.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Boggs said over and over.
I pulled out my phone and dialled 911. When they asked me who I wanted, I said Police. Then I looked over at the fishing shop and saw Rico and his friends coming back.
“Boggs.”
He ignored me, trying to get a better view.
“Boggs. It’s Rico.”
Then the policeman answered, “What’s the nature of your emergency?”
“Dead man on a boat, Eden’s Landing, Pier 5, a boat called ‘Freedom Runner’. And you’d better hurry.”
“Why?”
“Because the owners coming and he doesn’t look happy.”
Then to Boggs, “We got to get the hell out of here, now.”
But, by that time, there was nowhere to go. Rico had seen us and was all but running to cut off our escape.
© Charles Heath 2019
Just one of many reading lists – part 3
**Please don’t assume that you have to, nor would I ever expect you to, read any or all of these books. You don’t.**
Everyone, it seems, will publish what they call the top 100 books that you should read. Some are voted on, some belong to the opinion of the editor of the book review section of a newspaper, and, as you know, there are a lot of newspapers, a lot of editors, and a lot of opinions.
I’m not a newspaper, I’m not an editor, but I have a list, based on personal experience, and many, many years of reading.
It’s in no particular order.
41. The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, as well as a host of other Sherlock Holmes stories
42. The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad, one of Conrad’s later political novels, set in London in 1886 and deals with anarchism and espionage. In those days spies were called anarchists.
43. The Ipcress File by Len Deighton, introducing us to Harry Palmer, who was personified by Michael Caine and led to Horse Under Water, and Funeral in Berlin. More of Len Deighton later on in the list
44. The Remorseful Day by Colin Dexter introducing the somewhat enigmatic detective, Morse, his first name not revealed for a long time but oddly, Endeavour. John Thaw brought him to life
45. Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, hard to pronounce and even harder to read, but perhaps worth it in the end. By the time I read this I was wishing for a Russian writer had could use an economy of words
46. Dr. Zhivago by Boris Pasternak wasn’t it. A vast and lengthy dissertation on lost love, I felt very sad for Zhivago in the end. I saw a stage play of the same name, and I’m sorry, but it’s a few hours of my life I will never get back
47. Casino Royale, the first of the James Bond novels by Ian Fleming. I have to say these are among my favorite spy books. I must say I preferred the new James Bond in Casino Royale, though Sean Connery still rules!
48. The Day of the Jackal by Frederick Forsythe, a fascinating story about an assassin
49. Anything written by John Le Carre, but in particular, the George Smiley collection. Finally unmasking his nemesis the Russian spymaster made it all so satisfying.
50. The Bourne Identity by Robert Ludlam, inspiring a long series by both Ludlam and Eric Lustbader makes entertaining reading, but the first, the man who did not know who or what he really was, was excellent. Matt Damon didn’t harm his persona either.
51. Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy Sayers, whose detective is Lord Peter Whimsey, a 1933 mystery novel that’s eighth in the series
52. Gorky Park by Martin Cruz Smith. You have to admit that his Russian detective Arkady Renko is up against it when his investigation goes in a direction that uncovers corruption and dishonest in his superiors
53. The Way of All Flesh by Samuel Butler, a semi-autobiographical novel written between 1987 and 1884, and published in 1903. The story of the Pontifex family.
54. Howards End by E. M. Forster, first published in 1910, is an interesting insight into the behavior of the, and between the classes, with the Schlegels acting as the catalyst.
55. Washington Square by Henry James, originally published as a serial, and covers the conflict between daughter and father. I must say I prefer The Ambassadors to Washington Square.
56. Ulysses by James Joyce, a day in the life of an ordinary man, Leopold Bloom, why could it not be the 7th June rather than the 16th, for obvious reasons
57. The Go-Between by L. P. Hartley is a view of society at the end of the Victorian period through the eyes of a young boy. I read this while still at school and had no clue why, but later, when I read it again, I understood the meaning
58. Atonement by Ian McEwan, I saw the film and then read the book. Never a good idea. Basically, a young girl makes a bad mistake and tries to atone for it.
59. Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell, the War and Peace of Americal novels, and as long by comparison. The only book written by Mitchell, and the second most read book by Americans. The film was interesting but awfully long.
60. The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje, with a man with severe burns and the effect he had on three others. Colin Firth is villain one day and hero the next, this time in the cinematic version, an out and out cad.
More to come…
Searching for locations: The Castello di Brolio, Gaiole in Chianti, Tuscany – The New Castle
The castle is located in the southern Chianti Classico countryside and has been there for over ten centuries, and owned by the Ricasoli family since 1141.
The newer part of the castle dates from the 1800s. The larger brick palace was built in the Gothic revival-style.
The new castle was built on top of the old castle’s ramparts
The walkway leads to the guard’s tower, and views over the countryside, and in particular, the styled gardens of English origin
And beyond these gardens, the vineyards
The cinema of my dreams – It’s a treasure hunt – Episode 16
Here’s the thing…
Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.
I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.
But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.
Once again there’s a new instalment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt.
Rather tired and bleary eyes, I made it to the fishing store five minutes late. I had a lot on my mind, woken late, and then had to battle traffic. I longed for the day I could afford a car, though riding the bike kept me fit.
It also took my mind of the encounter last night, the one that had kept me away, my imagination almost getting the better of me.
Boggs was there, and he didn’t look happy.
“Where were you last night? I tried to get you, but you weren’t answering.”
I had the phone on silent. Ringing phones had a way of bringing unwanted attention.
“I had something I had to do.”
“You went to the Lantern without me.”
What? Does he have a network of spies I knew nothing about? “So, I heard it went respectable and had to check it out.” And hoping Boggs didn’t know who was in attendance, other than me.
“We said we would go there together.”
“You apparently had something else on last night.”
“It’s not what you think. I had to go with my mother to the hospital for her 6 monthly checks.”
It was easy to forget. She’d had a cancer scare a few years back, and had undergone chemo for a few months, sending it into remission. But it came with 6 monthly checks, and both Boggs and his mother were constantly worried it might come back. It seemed it always did when you least expected it.
“And what was the verdict.”
He relented a little. “Good.”
“Then, I assure you that was more important.” No point in telling Boggs what I was doing, just in case it backfired, or he disagreed. “And I can assure you the place is not worth it anymore. Boring as shit.”
He shook his head. Not pleased, but at least not angry.
“Has Rico shown his face?” I asked.
“Yes, about an hour back, some of those people he associates with came and they went off together.”
Perhaps he was annoyed that I hadn’t been there because I’m sure Boggs would follow him.
“You’ve been here all this time?”
“He came to our place last night. I’m sure it was him who searched in my room. Not much of a professional thief, he left a mess behind. Went through the outhouse as well.”
“Looking for the map?”
“Seems so. He didn’t find it.”
No, he wouldn’t, because Boggs had it with him. At least that was what I thought he intimated a day or two ago.
“Copies?”
He reached for his back pocket and pulled out some folded paper. “Thought you might like to keep a copy for yourself.”
I tried hard to keep the excitement out of my manner. It saved me having to make up an excuse as to why I wanted a copy of the map, and I didn’t want to tell him about the plan involving Nadia, not unless I had to.
“Thanks,” I said, and slipped it into my pocket.
“Now, let’s go check out his boat.”
© Charles Heath 2019
Just one of many reading lists – part 3
**Please don’t assume that you have to, nor would I ever expect you to, read any or all of these books. You don’t.**
Everyone, it seems, will publish what they call the top 100 books that you should read. Some are voted on, some belong to the opinion of the editor of the book review section of a newspaper, and, as you know, there are a lot of newspapers, a lot of editors, and a lot of opinions.
I’m not a newspaper, I’m not an editor, but I have a list, based on personal experience, and many, many years of reading.
It’s in no particular order.
41. The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, as well as a host of other Sherlock Holmes stories
42. The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad, one of Conrad’s later political novels, set in London in 1886 and deals with anarchism and espionage. In those days spies were called anarchists.
43. The Ipcress File by Len Deighton, introducing us to Harry Palmer, who was personified by Michael Caine and led to Horse Under Water, and Funeral in Berlin. More of Len Deighton later on in the list
44. The Remorseful Day by Colin Dexter introducing the somewhat enigmatic detective, Morse, his first name not revealed for a long time but oddly, Endeavour. John Thaw brought him to life
45. Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, hard to pronounce and even harder to read, but perhaps worth it in the end. By the time I read this I was wishing for a Russian writer had could use an economy of words
46. Dr. Zhivago by Boris Pasternak wasn’t it. A vast and lengthy dissertation on lost love, I felt very sad for Zhivago in the end. I saw a stage play of the same name, and I’m sorry, but it’s a few hours of my life I will never get back
47. Casino Royale, the first of the James Bond novels by Ian Fleming. I have to say these are among my favorite spy books. I must say I preferred the new James Bond in Casino Royale, though Sean Connery still rules!
48. The Day of the Jackal by Frederick Forsythe, a fascinating story about an assassin
49. Anything written by John Le Carre, but in particular, the George Smiley collection. Finally unmasking his nemesis the Russian spymaster made it all so satisfying.
50. The Bourne Identity by Robert Ludlam, inspiring a long series by both Ludlam and Eric Lustbader makes entertaining reading, but the first, the man who did not know who or what he really was, was excellent. Matt Damon didn’t harm his persona either.
51. Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy Sayers, whose detective is Lord Peter Whimsey, a 1933 mystery novel that’s eighth in the series
52. Gorky Park by Martin Cruz Smith. You have to admit that his Russian detective Arkady Renko is up against it when his investigation goes in a direction that uncovers corruption and dishonest in his superiors
53. The Way of All Flesh by Samuel Butler, a semi-autobiographical novel written between 1987 and 1884, and published in 1903. The story of the Pontifex family.
54. Howards End by E. M. Forster, first published in 1910, is an interesting insight into the behavior of the, and between the classes, with the Schlegels acting as the catalyst.
55. Washington Square by Henry James, originally published as a serial, and covers the conflict between daughter and father. I must say I prefer The Ambassadors to Washington Square.
56. Ulysses by James Joyce, a day in the life of an ordinary man, Leopold Bloom, why could it not be the 7th June rather than the 16th, for obvious reasons
57. The Go-Between by L. P. Hartley is a view of society at the end of the Victorian period through the eyes of a young boy. I read this while still at school and had no clue why, but later, when I read it again, I understood the meaning
58. Atonement by Ian McEwan, I saw the film and then read the book. Never a good idea. Basically, a young girl makes a bad mistake and tries to atone for it.
59. Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell, the War and Peace of Americal novels, and as long by comparison. The only book written by Mitchell, and the second most read book by Americans. The film was interesting but awfully long.
60. The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje, with a man with severe burns and the effect he had on three others. Colin Firth is villain one day and hero the next, this time in the cinematic version, an out and out cad.
More to come…
I’ve always wanted to go on a Treasure Hunt – Part 17
Here’s the thing…
Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.
I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.
But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.
Once again there’s a new instalment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt.
I could hardly say no, but it was not going to be a place either of us would want to be if he came back, and especially if he had company.
But, Boggs didn’t seem to care, and strolled up to the dock, and then walked down to the boat. IT wasn’t gated like some of the others were, but they had very expensive yachts that no doubt belongs to the local millionaires, people like the Benderby’s and their country club friends.
I remember my father talking about them once, and he had little respect for any of them., They, he said, had no time or money to worry about the welfare of their employees, but never lacked for anything themselves.
Looking at those yachts now, I could believe him.
I couldn’t say the same for Rico’s boat. It was old, made of wood, and looked like boats I’d seen in old movies. It was about 40 or 50 foot long, with a tall mast and a sail tied up ready to unfurl when out to see.
It had a large diesel engine, and it was this Rico used to get out of the bay until he was past the sandbank at the entrance.
On the transom, it had the words ‘Freedom Runner’ starting to peel and fade, and you could just make out the old name of the boat, ‘Elsie’, perhaps the wife or lover of the previous owner. That must have been a long time ago, because I’d known Rico as long as I’d known Boggs, and that was nearly 18 years.
I had to ask, “You think Rico is running a collection service?”
“Someone is, according to the police chief.”
“How do you know that? I thought the police were our sworn enemy.”
Considering the trouble we’d got into over the years, and the number of times the police chief had locked us up in the cells as punishment, we just spent our days avoiding him.. Perhaps the punishment had worked.
“He was around out place the other night.”
I wasn’t aware that Boggs was up to anything that would interest the law, but, then, he never told me everything he did.
“Why?”
“Come to see my mother.”
“What’s she been doing?”
“Nothing. He was asking her out on a date. Probably trying to cosy up to her so he can snoop on what Rico’s doing. There’s no other reason why he would be interested in her.”
Actually, he was wrong. Boggs mother was, for her age, quite attractive, or so my mother said. She said a few other uncomplimentary things about her, but I was not going to repeat them to Boggs.
Nor did I agree with my mother’s assessment. At times I saw more of Boggs mother than my own.
“Or maybe not. But if she was to go out with him, that would make Rico think twice about doing anything, including giving you a hard time, or trying to steal the map.”
“You don’t know Rico. He is just plain stupid.”
“He hasn’t been caught.”
“Yet.”
Then Boggs decided to walk over to the side of the boat and step onto the deck.
”What are you doing?” I hissed.
People on the other boats tied up to the pier were looking or pretending not to look, but I had no doubt they would report our actions to Rico
“Going on board. I don’t think Rico would mind.”
It was said with a fair degree of bravado, but the halting tone told me otherwise.
“Are you coming?”
Damn him. It was not as if he was going me a choice.
I shrugged. God help us if Rico came back.
© Charles Heath 2019
I always wanted to see the planets – Episode 7
It’s not like you can pull over to the side of the road…
…
In space, it’s a little difficult to just suddenly stop.
But, given several hundred thousand kilometers, anything is possible.
Especially when there’s a request to divert to Venus.
You can’t always tell when the ship drops out of cruise speed to what could be considered a dead stop, not that a dead stop is necessarily achievable.
I was down in the mess hall when the call came from the officer of the deck for me to return. I was halfway through a half decent cup of coffee, and had just had the donut delivered.
Both now had to be sacrificed.
I looked out the window into the inky blackness of space and it was difficult to say if we were in idle mode. There was, however, another ship just off the port bow, a old cargo ship that had seen better days, and we both looked like we were drifting together.
I suspect that meant we were keeping station, much the same as we would if we were visiting a planet.
I took the elevator and arrived on the bridge where the captain was in earnest conversation with the chief engineer and chief scientist.
He looked up when he saw me approach.
“Ah, number one, there’s a team waiting down on the transport deck. The Aloysius 5 has some vital equipment and personnel on board for repairs at the mining colony on Venus, and we’ve been diverted to pick them up and take them there post haste.”
“Is the other ship out of commission?”
“A temporary issue with the drive. We’re sending an engineering team over to help with the repairs and will check their progress on the way back.”
“Yes, sir.”
Should be simple, I thought. Take one of the shuttle craft over, load up, drop the engineers, get back, head for Venus, about 5 hours from our current position. Much the same as a pleasant drive in the country.
And I needed more shuttle time.
In the elevator I was joined by one of the security staff, a gung-ho type lieutenant named Andrews. A man always looking for trouble, the sort who would shoot first and ask questions later.
Maybe it was not going to be a pleasant outing after all.
…
© Charles Heath 2021
Searching for locations: The Castello di Brolio, Gaiole in Chianti, Tuscany – The New Castle
The castle is located in the southern Chianti Classico countryside and has been there for over ten centuries, and owned by the Ricasoli family since 1141.
The newer part of the castle dates from the 1800s. The larger brick palace was built in the Gothic revival-style.
The new castle was built on top of the old castle’s ramparts
The walkway leads to the guard’s tower, and views over the countryside, and in particular, the styled gardens of English origin
And beyond these gardens, the vineyards
The cinema of my dreams – It’s a treasure hunt – Episode 16
Here’s the thing…
Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.
I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.
But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.
Once again there’s a new instalment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt.
Rather tired and bleary eyes, I made it to the fishing store five minutes late. I had a lot on my mind, woken late, and then had to battle traffic. I longed for the day I could afford a car, though riding the bike kept me fit.
It also took my mind of the encounter last night, the one that had kept me away, my imagination almost getting the better of me.
Boggs was there, and he didn’t look happy.
“Where were you last night? I tried to get you, but you weren’t answering.”
I had the phone on silent. Ringing phones had a way of bringing unwanted attention.
“I had something I had to do.”
“You went to the Lantern without me.”
What? Does he have a network of spies I knew nothing about? “So, I heard it went respectable and had to check it out.” And hoping Boggs didn’t know who was in attendance, other than me.
“We said we would go there together.”
“You apparently had something else on last night.”
“It’s not what you think. I had to go with my mother to the hospital for her 6 monthly checks.”
It was easy to forget. She’d had a cancer scare a few years back, and had undergone chemo for a few months, sending it into remission. But it came with 6 monthly checks, and both Boggs and his mother were constantly worried it might come back. It seemed it always did when you least expected it.
“And what was the verdict.”
He relented a little. “Good.”
“Then, I assure you that was more important.” No point in telling Boggs what I was doing, just in case it backfired, or he disagreed. “And I can assure you the place is not worth it anymore. Boring as shit.”
He shook his head. Not pleased, but at least not angry.
“Has Rico shown his face?” I asked.
“Yes, about an hour back, some of those people he associates with came and they went off together.”
Perhaps he was annoyed that I hadn’t been there because I’m sure Boggs would follow him.
“You’ve been here all this time?”
“He came to our place last night. I’m sure it was him who searched in my room. Not much of a professional thief, he left a mess behind. Went through the outhouse as well.”
“Looking for the map?”
“Seems so. He didn’t find it.”
No, he wouldn’t, because Boggs had it with him. At least that was what I thought he intimated a day or two ago.
“Copies?”
He reached for his back pocket and pulled out some folded paper. “Thought you might like to keep a copy for yourself.”
I tried hard to keep the excitement out of my manner. It saved me having to make up an excuse as to why I wanted a copy of the map, and I didn’t want to tell him about the plan involving Nadia, not unless I had to.
“Thanks,” I said, and slipped it into my pocket.
“Now, let’s go check out his boat.”
© Charles Heath 2019
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 