Yesterday was Bastille Day, 14th of July, a national holiday in France. Was that why there were such crowds lining some sections of the route up the Grand Colombier? Colombier is French for dovecote, some joker must have looked at the mountain and decided it looked like a dovecote, a huge one. We have a reservoir near here called Dovestone, because there is an outcropping of rock which, seen from the right angle, looks remotely like a dove. Nearby is an even bigger outcropping known as Indian’s head which looks like the profile of a head with a prominent nose. Hmm, I wonder if it should now be renamed First People’s Head!
Anyway, back to the Tour de France. The route up Grand Colombier twists and turns up steep gradients. Crowds lined sections of the route, people leaning out to see who was coming, waving flags in riders’ faces and generally being a nuisance. The cyclists must have to be very single-minded to simply plow their way through without batting an eyelid or swearing at them.
I’ve noticed that in this year’s Tour de France coverage all the interviewers and, indeed, the support staff wear masks. At a time when almost everyone has stopped wearing masks, apart from a couple of old gentlemen I see at the supermarket, it seems unusual. Is this a measure to protect the riders from possible infection?
Talking of infection, I hear that they fear a serious outbreak of measles, not all over the country but in the London area. It seems that there has been a low take-up of the vaccination programme. Because measles has been very uncommon some people don‘t see the need to vaccinate their children. Even within the London area it varies from borough borough, as if some communities are more suspicious of vaccination than others. It’s not just small children who are at risk, apparently. There’s an older group of young adults who were not vaccinated because of the scare that sprang up connecting the MMR injection with autism. And now they risk catching measles.
It’s an odd thing. When I was a child measles was just one of those childhood illnesses. From time to time, indeed most years, there was an outbreak. Most of us caught measles more or less seriously and recovered from it. Only rarely did you hear of dire consequences but we knew that pregnant women should avoid contact with measles. In general though it was just something you got through. How things change!
Airport workers are going on strike this summer, at least at London airports. I’m quite glad not to have any plans. Hopefully it will all calm down later in the year when we plan to go to Portugal again.
Actors and scriptwriters are also on strike in Hollywood, I hear. It’s all to do with streaming and IT and who has the rights to show films and use and exploit images. We tend to think of actors as having plenty of money, especially when famous names are bandied about as supporting the strike. But as in sport, it must be a minority who make the really big money. So, good for the big names who are prepared to stand up for the rights of all. Well, that’s my twopenn’orth!
While Bruce Springsteen has been on his world tour I must have clicked on something on Facebook which means I now see masses of posts about his concerts here, there and everywhere. Mostly these are expressions of joy or selfies that people managed to take with The Boss in the background. Some even get close enough to take a picture standing next to their idol. I am amused by those who complain that the E-Street Band didn’t play their very favourite song. As it is, Bruce and his band must have phenomenal memories to play so many songs from across the years.
Now, I love Bruce Springsteen’s songs, as I love James Taylor’s and Leonard Cohen’s and a host of others’. But I really don’t need to see other fans’ paintings of their idols. Nor do I feel the need to know which hotel my idol is staying at. The idea of queuing for 5.5 hours in the rain (as one fan posted and boasted about having done) to watch Springsteen leave a hotel, well, it just seems crazy to me. When we saw Springsteen years ago in Santiago de Compostela, Spain, we joked about the possibility of running into him or Little Stevie or Patti on the hunt for a good tapas bar in the streets of central Santiago, but it never occurred to us to find lit where they were staying and go and harass them. Maybe we’re not serious fans after all. So it goes.
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
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