On HM's Service

Mayer, Hans Mayer.

Turned out it could well have been Sean Connery's brother, very smartly dressed in a Showaddywaddy type 3/4 length black jacket with black velvet collar, pocket covers and armbands and his similarly aged (probably named Honor Mayer-Blackman), somewhat conventionally (normally) dressed wife.

As they loaded wooden crates with organic lettuces, avocados, milk, butter and other groceries into the boot (what a vulgar word for the rear compartment of such a luxury limousine), I approached and asked if I could photograph their car when they were out of shot. As usual, I started to mumble out my explanations but within a few seconds came a smile from them both and an "of course".

They got in the car and waited patiently while I tried starting the camera which immediately died saying "battery empty". Luckily mobile to hand and just managed this one shot despite an Audi A8 slowly getting impatient to get in the car park. Typical Audi driver, no class.

Part of my explanation had been that my mate Nogbad back in the UK, last night posted on his Twitter/Facebook the following "BMT 216A". He was watching Spectre and I replied, German TV gave me the choice of Margaret Rutherford in Murder at the Gallop (1963) or Peter O'Toole in Lawrence of Arabia (1962).

I went for Lawrence but was a bit shocked about the irony of many of the sentences. When I saw this film as an 8-year old, it frightened the hell out of me of Turkish and Arabian people and this fear has never fully left me. I once spent a few hours in Turkey including the market in Izmir and I felt threatened - no grounds, purely from that film. I have never had a desire to go to an Arabic country.

A family holiday booked to Tunisia in 1982 had to be cancelled when I landed in hospital - I was quite relieved. Of course totally wrong and I fully support giving refuge to any persons under threat of life but it shows how our prejudices and fears can so often be influenced by events totally unconnected with facts. Having been born in Trinidad, I feel at home with the Caribbean mentally - the only real difference is I don't fear it because I know it first hand. We should all consider if our prejudices and fears are justified. 

I am digressing - had taken the few hours of shops opening to stock up for the dreadful thought of them being closed for two consecutive days. Off with the dogs to the very rural organic farm shop in Benningen to stock up on my essential Cheddar Cheese described in my "I'm Backing Britain" Blip a few days ago. 'Rural' with car park packed with Aston Martins & Audis! Today I asked where it came from, the vital telltale part of the packaging on the block had been sold. The helpful ladies got out their organic cheese catalogue and pronounced Shropshire - Belton Farms. Was thrilled as I had thought it was probably made in Cologne or Berlin. Cheddar is still very unknown, one of the three salesladies behind the cheese counter hadn't ever tried it. However, they seem to have sold a bit now. So I have done my bit for Britain - well Angie actually - she started the ball rolling and got the shop to order some for the first time.

At the risk of being boring, I can't help repeating it: Team UK go out and sell your unique quality products with pride and patriotism, things the Germans connect with the "Island". Not nationalism, not arrogance, simply good self-assured British understatement and humour. People here will pay for quality - the shop was heaving, not just with Aston Martin owners but mainly normal people in their VWs, Opels, Audis, Skodas and even a sprinkling of Fiats, Renaults and Peugeots....

Then back home and get out St George's flag and prepare for the evening duel. Did have a late, very, very, very Bavarian lunch of Weisswurst and Weissbier with sweet mustard and pretzel - Extra Photo - felt awful (beer at lunch is not good for me). Could have done with a good dose of Lily The Pinks medicinal compound but was saved the trouble by the stars in Berlin.

German TV praised the English boys and also noted it was a team of young players and all the arrogant, inflated egos, more concerned with marketing their underpants than playing football, have at long last gone (Messers Beckham & Rooney). One thing you have to give the Germans - they are fair, a virtue which was once the domain of the Brits.

HAPPY EASTER ONE AND ALL.  I will. Postman Pat handed over an envelope from Eire today with lovely cards from the grandchildren. I gave Pat a jar of honey in return. I got the better deal.