STORIES
Rally around Sir Walter
He was not only a brave warrior but also a sailor, pirate, historian, poet, adventurer and explorer. Sir Walter Raleigh (or Ralegh) was certainly the most astonishing and celebrated of the English Elizabethan sea dogsAn original historical action hero, Walter was alongside his friend and rival Sir Francis Drake in the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588, led a search for ‘El Dorado’ and founded a colony in Virginia. Though a favourite in the court of Queen Elizabeth I, he was reviled as a villain by the next monarch, who sent him to the chopping block when he failed to find vast treasures in the New World. Raleigh was born in 1552 (the exact day and month remains unknown) in the house of Hayes Barton in the village of East Budleigh, near Budleigh Salterton in Devon in England’s West Country. He was a half brother of Sir Humphrey Gilbert and also had a full brother named Carew Raleigh.Raleigh’s family was strongly Protestant in religious orientation and experienced a number of near-escapes during the terrible reign (1553- 1558) of the fanatically Catholic Queen Mary, who had thousands of Protestant ‘heretics’ burned to death in her zeal to make England a loyal vassal to the Vatican in Rome. At one time, his father hid from the Queen’s sadistic clergy in a chimney. If captured he would have undoubtedly been tried, found guilty, then tied to a stake and executed by fire. Because of this Raleigh developed a natural hatred of Catholicism, and was quick to express it when the Protestant Queen Elizabeth I came to the throne in 1558. Little is known about his early life, though he spent some time in Ireland, in Killuagh Castle, in Clonmellon county Westmeath, becoming a landlord there. For all the hype surrounding Sir Walter, we know that, in keeping with the times, he was not a particularly compassionate man. Between 1579 and 1583, Raleigh took part in the suppression of the Desmond Rebellions. At the siege of Smerwick he is said to have ordered the slaughter of around 700 Italian mercenary troops even after they had surrendered unconditionally. On the seizure and distribution of land following the attainders arising out of the rebellion, Raleigh received 40,000 acres (160 square kilometres) including the coastal walled towns of Youghal and Lismore. This made him one of the principal landowners in Munster, but he enjoyed limited success in inducing English tenants to settle on his estates. He is also credited with planting the first potatoes in Ireland, though this is unlikely, say historians.There is an apocryphal tale regarding his alleged introduction of smoking to England. One day when he was c
ontentedly puffing away on a newfangled device known as a clay pipe, his alarmed manservant doused him with water as he saw smoke billowing from his master’s mouth, assuming that Raleigh was on fire! He rose rapidly in the Queen’s favour, being knighted in 1585, and was involved in the early English colonisation of the New World in Virginia under a royal patent. But in 1591 he secretly married one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting (Elizabeth ‘Bess’ Throgmorton), for which he and his new wife were sent to the Tower of London. After his release they retired to his estate in Sherborne, Dorset. It was Raleigh who reputedly brought back the potato and tobacco plants to England and Sir Walter who acted under Lord Essex at the sack of Cadiz in 1596, at which the Spanish treasure fleet was destroyed. He was badly wounded in the battle, but never earned the eternal gratitude of the Crown for his efforts. The Tudor Court was a dangerous playground for adventurous spirits, and even under Queen Elizabeth I his fortunes were never secure. When the Queen died
in 1603, the Catholic aristocrat James I became King of England and life turned ugly for Sir Walter. He found himself accused of high treason. The charge was almost certainly trumped up, and instigated by Robert Cecil, a vindictive court enemy who hated Sir Walter’s popularity. The affair revolved around two conspiracies that were hatched at the time of James’s accession. The first was the Bye Plot, a hair-brained Catholic scheme in which Raleigh was not involved. The second, or Main Plot, was more shadowy and conceived by Lord Cobham, a friend of Raleigh who was Warden of the Cinque Ports. Cobham was a headstrong and unstable character who detested
the new King and unwisely made no secret of his views. He had opened clandestine negotiations with the Spanish ambassador for the Netherlands, hoping to achieve peace between England and Spain. It was also rumoured that he planned to put Arabella Stuart, the cousin of King James on the throne. When questioned about this
conspiracy, Raleigh admitted that Cobham had offered him 10,000 crowns to help promote peace with Spain, but that he had paid no real attention to the matter, dismissing it as a hare-brained idiocy typical of Cobham. Regarding the secret talks with the Dutch ambassador, Raleigh could only say that he suspected they might have taken place, but he knew nothing more certain than that. What is certain is that Raleigh would hardly have been party to such a scheme as he was a notorious enemy of Spain. Robert Cecil who was investigatingthe affair went to Cobham and confronted him with what Raleigh had said. Clearly feeling that Raleigh had betrayed him, Cobham replied that Sir Walter was behind the whole conspiracy. The charge was patently false, but it was enough for Cecil to have Raleigh arrested and interned in London’s infamous Tower. Raleigh was now in deep trouble. It was vital to him that Cobham withdraw his accusation, but as both men were now imprisoned in the
Tower direct communication was close to impossible. Nevertheless, the resourceful Sir Walter came up with a solution. He wrote a letter to Cobham imploring that he tell the truth, and wrapping it with string tied around an apple, he bribed a jailer to toss it
through Cobham’s window in the Wardrobe Tower. Cobham sent his reply under his cell door, bribing the same warder, and when it reached Raleigh he was delighted. Cobham retracted his accusation, and expressed bitter regret at having made it. Armed with this important document, Sir Walter must have been quite optimistic regarding the upcoming trial. This commenced at Winchester Assizes on 17 November 1603.
Raleigh was driven there by coach through streets lined with angry mobs. Reviled as a traitor, the former hero was pelted with rotten eggs, and in mockery, with clay tobacco pipes. Onarrival at the court he found himself facing four judges and a jury of hostile commissioners, which included Robert Cecil himself. Also ranged against him was a formidable adversary in Sir Edward Coke, the Attorney General. Coke immediately launched into a lengthy account of the Bye plot, and since no shred of evidence connected Raleigh with that conspiracy, the clear aim was to smear the prisoner by association. Raleigh would have none of it. “Mister Attorney”, he interrupted, “I pray you to whom, or to what end do you speak of all this? I must protest that I do not understand a word of it.” Coke blustered on, but Raleigh quite reasonably persisted in asking for hard facts. “Prove against me, sir, of any one
thing of which you have spoken.” “Nay sir,” retaliated Coke, “I will prove all. For thou art a monster; thou hast an English face, but a Spanish heart.” This insult to an English hero halflamed by wounds at the sack of Cadiz was really too much, but if
Coke intended to drive Raleigh into a helpless rage by questioning his loyalties, he did not succeed. Raleigh kept his temper, meeting every assault on his character with imperturbable calm. And when permitted to deliver his defence he gave a masterful
speech. Far from wanting peace with Spain, he stated that he had only recently written a treatise to His Majesty arguing that peace should be avoided. There was only one witness against him: Cobham; and Raleigh’s repeatedly demanded that the witness should be brought to court to face the accused directly. The demands were
rejected, however, on the grounds that Cobham was party to the plot. As the trial dragged on, it became clear that the Crown’s flimsy case rested mainly on hearsay and abuse. Coke stated that Raleigh was “a spider from Hell...an odious fellow... and the worst traitor that ever came to the bar.” The prisoner’s dignified mannerimpressed everyone present, and Coke’s insults were soon met with hisses and groans from the public gallery. But under the law as it stood, Raleigh could not be sure of an acquittal. He pinned his hopes on the letter in his pocket – Cobham’s retraction writtenin the Tower. But as the trial drew to a close and he prepared to play his trump card, he met with a horrible surprise. The prosecution was holding a higher card still. The shiftless Cobham had changed his mind again, and in a letter written to the Lords, had retracted his retraction. He now claimed that Sir Walter had asked for 1,500 pounds sterling as an annual pension from Spain to work as a Spanish agent. This startling new charge sank Raleigh’s defence. Deny it as he might, enough of the mud slung at him now stuck fast enough to seal a conviction. The jury was out for just 15 minutes, returning to declare the accused prisoner guilty of high treason. Sir Walter listened with the same dignified calm he had exhibited for days as the Lord Chief Justice delivered the appallingsentence, “That you shall be taken from hence to the place whence you came, there to remain until the day of execution, and from thence you shall be drawn upon a hurdle through the open streets to the place of execution; there to be hanged and cut down alive, and your body shall be torn open; your heart and bowels plucked out, your privy members cut off and thrown upon a fire before your eyes. Then your head shall be stricken from your body, which will be cut and divided
into four quarters to be disposed of at His Majesty the King’s pleasure. And may God have mercy on your soul.” One disgusted judge later commented that “Never beforehas English Justice been so disgraced as in the case of the trial of Sir Walter Raleigh.” As news of the proceedings circulated, public hatred of Raleigh turned to adulation. So it was perhaps Sir Walter’s re-found public popularity that caused James I to stay the English hero’s execution. Instead, the King stage-managed a macabre melodrama. On 10 December at Wolversey Castle at Winchester, Cobham and two other members of the Bye Plot conspiracy were led to the scaffold through a dark winter drizzle. Raleigh was made to watch from a nearby cell, since his own hour
was soon to come. But when the three prisoners had said their prayers and readied themselves for the ordeal, the sheriff surprised everyone attendingby announcing a last-minute reprieve. The prisoners almost fainted with gratitude and the watching Raleigh was left entirely baffled as to his own fate. Some time later he learned that
he too had been granted a reprieve. Raleigh spent almost 13 years imprisoned in the Bloody Tower but he kept himself busy writing his famous book ‘The Historie of the
World’ concerning the ancient history of Greece and Rome. He never gave up hope of winning his freedom, and eventually did find a way to get the King’s attention. He appealed to James’s known avarice, promising that if given his liberty he would, athis own cost, fit out an expedition to, the region of the Orinoco River where Raleigh believed a vast gold mine was located. So in March 1616, after much deliberation, King James agreed to th enterprise. Without pardoning Raleigh, he did permit him to leave the Tower. Sir Walter was now 64 and a sick man but helped by his friends heraised themoney to equip and crew a small fleet that set sail for Guiana in search for the elusive ‘El Dorado’. It proved to be a calamitous expedition. The mine was never located; fighting broke out with other Spanish explorers in the region and Raleigh’s son died in the conflict as Sir Walter’s men sacked the Spanish outpost of San Thome on the Orinoco. Eventually after storms,fevers and mutinies, the grizzled old sea dog returned to Plymouth with only one ship to face the wrath of King James. He could have sailed to Virginia to escape English ‘justice’ and live out the rest of his life, which would have been a logical move after such a disastrous foray; but that would have meant permanent separation from his
beloved wife Bess and he could not
bear that.Spanish influence, now strong at the court of King James, saw to it that the former English hero had to die. An outraged Diego Sarmiento de Acuna, the Spanish ambassador to England demanded that King James bring Raleigh to ‘justice’. King James I then revived the death sentence for treason that had been passed on Sir Walter in 1603. There was no need for another trial as the sentence had merely been suspended. But in a really bitter twist of irony, he was now going to be executed not for conspiring with Spain, but for killing Spaniards in Guiana! Bess urged him to plead for clemency, but Raleigh refused. He had failed to enrich his monarch as promised, and he would face the consequences. And so, on 29 October 1618, having been condemned, reprieved, imprisoned for 13 years, released to search for gold and condemned again when he failed to find it, Sir Walter Raleigh at last walked to the scaffold. But this time he was at least given the dignity of a quick beheading instead of being hanged, drawn and quartered as previously ordered. Raleigh greeted the hooded executioner and asked to inspect the axe. Running a finger gently along the
edge, he observed, “This is a sharp medicine; but it is also a sure cure for all diseases.” His courage never faltered. Before laying his head on the block he instructed his executioner, “When I stretch forth my hands, dispatch me.” Refusing a blindfold, he then prayed quietly for a moment. Then he put his neck on the block and stretched out his arms. Astonished by such dignity and bravery on the scaffold,
the executioner somehow could not bring himself to swing the lethal implement. Sir Walter called up to him, “What dost thou fear?” Strike my good man, strike!” The axe then fell, twice, on the neck of the last of the great Elizabethans, and when the severed head was raised up to the watching crowd there was a long, low groan. King James had finally secured his death, but Sir Walter never gave him the satisfaction of begging for mercy. There is a macabre tail to this story: his grieving widow Bess had his head preserved and kept it with her in a sack for 29 years until she died in 1647. Today the tomb of Sir Walter Raleigh can be viewed at St Margaret’s Church, Westminster, in London.
They were voted into power in a landslide victory in 1943, based on their earlier successes, but were ejected six years later in 1949, by a military putsch with little
ceremony or respect because they had fallen from grace in the Syrian street.
Government destroys in the Arab world. It blinds and corrupts. It damages - often
beyond repair. Every Syrian - by birth - was a member of the National Bloc until
its leaders decided to transform it into a political party in 1946. The same applies
to Yasser Arafat’s Fatah Party before and after Oslo in 1993. It also applies to the Wafd Party in Egypt and more recently, to Hamas in Palestine. During the years 2000-2006, Hamas obtained all the war medals it needed by steering what has become called the al- Aqsa Intifada. There was no higher reward for the leaders of Hamas than an esteemed reputation in the Islamic world, the ability to inflict pain on Israel, discredit Yasser Arafat, and achieve martyrdom; the ultimate goal of jihadis worldwide. By 2006, it was clear that something was still missing for Hamas. It was the opportunity to rule; the chance to dictate policy and be recognized not only by Arabs and Muslims but by the international community as well. That, of course, in addition to their conviction that they could run a state, combat corruption and find jobs for the Palestinians. They sincerely believed - and still do - that they can deliver if given the chance. This is actually why they were voted into office in 2006. Palestinians did not vote for them because they promised to annihilate the state of Israel. They actually did not use that during their parliamentary race but rather, campaigned on a social agenda, banking on the bankruptcy of Fatah and the numerous shortcomings that surfaced after the death of Arafat in November 2004. It was a pragmatic victory rather than an ideological one. The Palestinians voted for Hamas because they promised better schools, more security, less bureaucracy and no corruption. Voters included seculars and Christians. Giving them the full burden of government would have sidelined them from the resistance - the way it did to Fatah after 1993. They would have been too busy cleaning up house in the civil service, inspecting schools, and building roads, to lead a proper resistance. They made several important gestures towards Israel and the Americans, however, crying “Uncle” without actually saying it, because they wanted recognition as statesmen rather than guerilla warriors. Decision makers in Washington, however, refused to listen, seeing Hamas as no different from al-Qaeda, because of its Islamic program. Instead of taking advantage of the situation, Israel brought Hamas back to the fold of the resistance (what they know how to do best). When Arafat died in 2004, nobody blamed him for having abandoned the resistance in 1993. Although he spoke of peace, everybody, even the Israelis, knew that he was a man of revolution. But by playing two faces, he managed to run a country. He managed to give the Palestinians wages, jobs, schools and security. This is the game Hamas should play. Khaled Meshal once appeared on al-Jazeera TV and confessed that in early 2004, Hamas officials had in fact sat down to negotiate a truce with US officials. The Americans tried to get them to disarm, and only when Hamas refused did the US allegedly give Israel a green light to assassinate the Hamas founder Ahmad Yassin in March and his successor
Abd al-Aziz al-Rantisi in April 2004. Then-British foreign secretary Jack Straw also admitted that British diplomats had a dialogue with Hamas. Looking forward. To be fair to Hamas, they were never given the opportunity to succeed. They were sentenced
to fail from day one, thanks to an international boycott of Palestine, headed by the US, which refused to deal with the democratically elected representatives of the Palestinians. The boycott resorted a proud people to hunger and need. Hamas at the time was dying for the chance to prove itself - to prove that it could deliver. It was willing to walk that extra mile to earn international recognition and lift the boycott imposed on the Palestinians. This was certainly not out of conviction - but helplessness. Had Israel allowed Hamas to take over government, with its full responsibilities, this would have been a win-win scenario for everyone - everyone, that is, except for Mahmud Abbas and Fatah. The Palestinians would have been ruled by the leaders for whom they voted. American “democracy” would have been upheld. Hamas would have been firmly in control of government and Israel would have tamed one of its deadliest enemies. By letting it share power, treating it as a partner, showing it respect, and giving it real duties, Israel could have forced Hamas to share responsibility. It is very similar to what happened in Iraq after the invasion of 2003. The Americans sidelined the Sunnis for three years, then realized that the keys to Sami Moubayed is a Syrian political analyst. security in Iraq, and to ending the insurgency, involved courting the Sunnis and bringing them back to power. By letting them share power, the Americans reasoned, they would also share responsibility for security. They would be obliged, before the voters who voted them into office, to provide the functions of government, including proper security. In the past, Israel refused to negotiate with a government that included Hamas. Now, due to its stubbornness, Israel has to deal with a government in Gaza that is Hamas. One possible solution to the present confrontation would be to give Hamas the benefit of the doubt, to give them what they are asking for - money, food, medicine and security - then see if they can deliver. That would manage – not end - the conflict between Hamas, Fatah and Israel. That would need a serious mediating effort to restore Gaza to the West Bank and create a cabinet of national unity, under Abbas’ authority, to be composed of both Fatah and Hamas members. Collectively, the Islamic party can still boast of a war record in combating Israel, despite all the damage done to its image since it took over Gaza. Fatah – with no Arafat - does not have that luxury anymore. Fatah can provide legitimacy in the international community for Hamas can provide Fatah with allegiance at a grassroot level, in the Palestinian street. Hamas has enough legitimacy - still - to talk and sell peace to the Palestinians and get away with it. Abbas, who nobody sees as a war hero or red-blooded Palestinian nationalist, cannot. He needs Hamas - still - in as much as they need him. Arafat provides the example. In the 1970s, he went to the United Nations and said that he came carrying “an olive branch and a freedom fighter’s gun”, and the world believed him. That was made clear 30 years later, at Oslo in 1993. The Israelis should have invested in that turning point to achieve their end result with minimum loss and damage to Israel. They could have hollowed out Hamas, emptying it of its very essence, without firing a single shot at the Palestinians. The siege of Gaza, which started last January 2007, has done Israel a great disservice in the international community; almost as painful as the Winograd Commission that came out this week, criticising the Ehud Olmert government for malpractice during the summer war with Lebanon in 2006. In as strange as it may
seem, Olmert needs Hamas in government. But many things have to be done before this happens. Step one would be to end the siege of Gaza’s 1.5 million Palestinians. Step two would be to get Mahmud Abbas and Ismail Haniyya on one table to talk and find an acceptable solution to both Fatah or Hamas. Or, to get both men to step down, for the sake of the Palestinians, for the people to chose new leaders who can deliver security, peace and stability.
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Obscure Tour - Greenland
Greenland is a self-governing Danish province located between the Arctic and Atlantic Oceans, east of the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. Greenland is the world’s largest island by area (Australia is considered a continent rather than an island). The name Greenland comes from Scandinavian settlers. In the Icelandic sagas, it is said that Norwegian-born Erik the Red was exiled from Iceland for murder. He, along with his extended family and thralls, set out in ships to find the land that was rumoured to be to the northwest. After settling there, he named the land Grænland (“Greenland”), because, it is thought, the southern portion of Greenland (not covered by glacier) is indeed very green in the summer, and was likely to have been even greener in Erik’s time because of the Medieval Warm Period. Greenland became an integral part of the Kingdom of Denmark in 1953. It was granted home rule by the Danish parliament in 1978. Greenlandic voters subsequently chose to leave the EEC upon achieving self-rule. A referendum on further self-rule is scheduled for 25 November 2008. The Greenland ice sheet covers 1,755,637 km2 (677,676 sq mi) (81%) of the country. The coastline of Greenland is 39,330 km (24,430 mi) long, about the same length as the Earth’s circumference at the Equator. Approximately one-twentieth of the world’s ice and one-quarter of the earth’s surface ice are found in Greenland. All towns and settlements of Greenland are situated along the ice-free coast, with the population being concentrated along the Western coast. If the Greenland ice sheet were to completely melt away, sea level would rise by more than 7 m (23 ft) and Greenland would probably become an archipelago. Between 1989 and 1993, climate researchers drilled into the summit of Greenland’s ice sheet, obtaining a pair of two-mile-long (3.2 km) ice cores. Analysis of the layering and chemical composition of the cores has provided a revolutionary newrecord of climate change in the Northern Hemisphere going back about 100,000 years and illustrated that the world’s weather and temperature have often shifted rapidly from one seemingly stable state to another, with worldwide consequences. The glaciers of Greenland are also contributing to global sea level rise at a faster rate than was previously believed. Greenland today is critically dependent on fishing and fish exports; the shrimp fishing industry is by far the largest income earner. Tourism is the only sector offering any near-term potential and even this is limited due to a short high season and high costs. The official languages of Greenland are Greenlandic (Kalaallisut) and Danish, and most of the population speak both of the languages. Greenlandic is spoken by about 50,000 people, some of whom are monolingual. A minority of Danish migrants with no Inuit ancestry speak Danish as their first, or only, language. English is widely spoken as a third language. The culture of Greenland has much in common with Inuit tradition, as the majority of people are descended from Inuit. Many people still go ice fishing andthere are annual dog-sled races in which everyone with a team participates.
Hunting is iconic to their culture and most Greenlanders still hunt at least parttime to supplement their diet and provide skins for clothing and kayaks. The northwest corner of Greenland is known as the Thule region. It is roughly the sizeof Germany, but inhabited by fewer than 1,000 people. Traditional foods like seal, walrus, narwhal and caribou, are consumed frequently. Hunters still wear hand-made polar bear skin garments, caribou anoraks and skin boots for warmth on winter hunting trips. Many of the men maintain world-class kayaking and harpoon-throwing skills, but many other skills are dying out. The identity of the Inuit is closely tied to their geography, history and their attitudes toward hunting- “For Inuit, ecology, hunting and culture are synonymous.” As valued as it is, traditional hunting in Greenland is under tremendous stress. Pressure from environmental and conservation groups has led Greenland’s Home Rule Government to set hunting limits for most species. As far as activities go, they reflect both the culture and conditions found in the country, so you can choose from Dogsledding, Kayaking, Whale Safaris, Musk Ox Safaris, Snowmobiling, Hiking, Skiing, Angling and Sailing to name a few. Another increasingly popular activity is to take a cruise along Greenland’s extensive coastline, where one encounters ice formations; from small transparent ice floes to colossal 100-metre-high (330-foot high) icebergs and an almost always guaranteed sighting of humpback whales, fin whales or minke whales. In Greenland there are no roads connecting the towns, so all transport takes place by plane or by ship. When travelling over shorter distances outside the towns the local population use their own boats, dogsleds or snowmobiles. Air Greenland handles a large percentage of passenger transport with its four-engined Dash-7 planes and various types of helicopters. The Dash-7 can carry up to 50 passengers and typically cruises at a height of 4-5 km (13,000-16,000 feet), which provides a fantastic view of Greenland’s ice sheet and glaciers. The helicopters operate primarily between the towns in the south of the country, as well as servicing the towns in North and East Greenland and the small settlements. Accommodation is easy to find but relatively expensive in the hotels (average price around £40-60 per night), but there are much cheaper alternatives with bed and breakfast places (£20-40) as well as hostel type lodging (£10-20); however if you are really on a budget then arrive with a tent, as you can pitch it anywhere (except in the vicinity of historical
ruins or near lakes and rivers that supply freshwater to towns and settlements).
Several towns have established special areas for camping with various facilities.
Depending on what you eat, dining out in Greenland can be pretty cheap or
extremely expensive! Most locally caught or hunted foods (e,g lamb, reindeer,
musk ox, fish) is cheaper but anything ‘international’ will be expensive. However,
many people say that the local food in Greenland is ‘Tass’ mamaq’ – in other words
delicious! Ideally you should wash your food down with locally brewed beer (but
bottled in Europe) made from melted inland ice, claimed to be the world’s purest
water as it is at least 2000 years old and free from modern pollutants. Alternatively
pop a few thousand-year-old ice cubes in whatever you are drinking! You should
also make sure to try the Greenlandic coffee, their own special version of an Irish
coffee! It is fair to say that Greenland is self-sufficient with regard to fish, certain meat products and ice cubes. Everything else has to be imported by either ship or aircraft, and this of course has an impact on prices. Compared to Scandinavia, prices are approx. 10% higher, and alcohol, tobacco and fresh fruit and vegetablesin particular are at the high end of the scale. There are banks and ATMs in all towns, and credit cards are widely accepted, but it is still recommended that visitors bring some Danish kroner, as some ATMs are not in service at weekends. In general, passport and visa regulations are the same as those that apply in Denmark. Greenland is, like Norway and Iceland, party to the Schengen Agreement even though it is not a member of the EU. The major airport is Kangerlussuaq Airport on the West coast at Kangerlussuaq. Intercontinental flights connect mainly to Copenhagen. Getting to Greenland is not cheap, and example return fares are approximately US$1000 (£500) from Baltimore, USA or 5000 DKK (£500) from Copenhagen, Denmark. So from Thailand you would be looking at double those prices! Communications once you are there are as hi tech and stable as any modern country. You can travel to Greenland at any time of year and experience vastly different things; the high season runs from May/June to August/September and is the best time to sail the fjords and see the active glaciers and icebergs, while a trip between November and February will allow you to experience the real Arctic nature, with dogsled and snowmobile trips, and is also the best time to see the Northern Lights. The spring season runs from March to
April/May as the light returns after some long dark months of winter, and the whole range of activities listed becomes available. Greenland has an Arctic climate, but owing to the size of the country there are great variations in the weather. Winters can be severe and the summers comparatively mild, particularly in areas which are sheltered from the prevailing winds. Precipitation, mostly snow, is moderately heavy around the coast. The north of the country, and much of the interior, enjoys true Arctic weather, with the temperature only rising above freezing for brief periods in the summer. Conditions in all parts of the country can become hazardous when there is a combination of a low temperature and a strong wind. Local advice concerning weather conditions should be followed very carefully. SUMMARY: A chance to see the true Arctic before it melts should be the only reason needed to visit Greenland, but the country has many other points of interest, most notably the wildlife and hunting culture of the people. Not much sunbathing, granted, but the clean air and water and the invigorating sense of the wild and nature would make this a very different vacation.
Maintenance & Refinishing
You loved your wooden outdoor patio bench when you first brought ithome. It was as lovely as the flowers and shrubs that embraced it. But now after a year or two, your patio bench is starting to look more like a weed than a garden ornament. If it is showing those inevitable signs of weathering and wear, don’t worry. You can bring back the lustre and appeal of your outdoor patio bench by using a little elbow grease and a little know-how. If your patio bench is a painted one, you will have to take several steps to bring life back into the wood and those steps will have to be repeated every year or two. Before beginning your project, make sure you have a clean workspace and adequate ventilation. You will be removing paint from the surface, so it is recommended that you wear protective eye gear and also a filtering mask to protect yourself from ingesting paint particles if removing the paint through a sanding process; or to protect you from inhaling harmful fumes if you use a paint stripper to
remove the paint. If you choose to use the sanding method to prepare your bench for repainting, you will have to determine the existing damage to your bench before you begin. If the grain of the wood is raised quite a bit and the surfaces of your bench are uneven, use an electric sander with sanding paper that is coarse (grit number 60 or 80) If the surface damage is not extreme, medium sandpaper (grit number 100 or 120) should work to remove the paint. If the surface damage is minimal, use a fine sandpaper (grit number 150 or 180) to rough the paint up enough that the new paint will adhere to the surface. When sanding, whether using an electric sander or a hand sander, always make sure you sand with the grain of the wood. If you choose to use a chemical stripper to remove your paint (or varnish), make sure you wear rubber gloves and have excellent ventilation as you work. Apply the chemical stripper as directed on the container. You will probably want to pour some of the chemical stripper into a wide can, like a coffee can, so you can dip your brush into it for ease in application. (Use an old brush because the stripper will probably damage the
brush beyond usability.) Most chemical stripper directions advise you to put a thick coat of the stripper on the surface, but don’t brush like you are painting; you are just trying to put a coat on the surface, but not a smooth one. Once the stripper is on the surface, it usually immediately starts to bubble. If you keep brushing, it will just gum up without working as deeply as it would if left alone for the allotted time stated on
the directions. (Usually the directions have you leave the stripper on the area
for 15 to 20 minutes before you scrape off the lifted paint with a putty knife or paint scraper.) Keep in mind that it usually takes one coat of chemicalstripper to remove one coat of paint. If your bench has several coats of paint or varnish, the process of removing the paint or varnish may require several applications. After the paint is removed, you will need to sand the surface to get rid of any raised areas or residue
varnish or dried stripper agent. When the majority of the paint has been removed and the surface is smooth and ready to be given a new coat of paint, make sure you clean all surfaces thoroughly. Any grease or dirt left on the surface will damage the new finish. You can clean the area with warm water and a mild detergent. Make sure you squeeze the excess moisture out of the cleaning cloth before applying it to the surface, as excess moisture can cause the grain of the wood to rise, and you may get an uneven surface. When the bench is totally dry, you can begin to paint.The first step of the painting stage will be to choose a primer and a paint that is suitable for outdoors. Exterior enamels are the most weather resistant, though there are some good exterior latex paints that are available now too. Make sure that you choose a compatible primer and paint. They either should both be enamel or they have to both be latex, as combining latex with enamel will cause the paint to adhere improperly. The primer is painted on first. This helps seal the wood and helps the paint adhere to the surface. Primer is applied by brush, following the grain of the wood. Let the primer dry for the time recommended on its container. When the primer is dry, you may begin to
paint. There are several methods of applying paint. After the paint has been stirred using a mixer attachment on your power drill, or a paint stirring stick (do not shake the paint can as that may cause bubbles in your painted surface) you must choose the method of paint application. You can apply the paint the simple, old-fashioned way,
with a brush. If you use a brush make sure that your brush strokes go in the direction of the grain of the wood. If you use outdoor paint from an aerosol can, make sure you spray in the direction of the wood grain and that your paint overlaps evenly. If you use an electric sprayer, you will probably waste less paint than you do with an aerosol can, but using an electric sprayer requires a little practice before you can become “error free” with it. If using an electric sprayer, make sure you never bring the nozzle close to your skin or eyes or use it where children or pets may get in the way of the paint stream as it can inject paint under the skin. Also, an electric sprayer must be cleaned thoroughly immediately after use. Let the bench dry thoroughly after applying the first coat. If you prefer a more durable and smooth finish, you may want to apply an additional coat of paint. If your bench has a varnished finish, you will want to follow the steps for sanding or stripping as described fora painted bench. If you need to restain the bench, you will need to remove all old varnish. If you have a natural wood bench or don’t need to restain, you only need to sand down the rough spots, clean the surface and apply a new coat of varnish.The varnish you choose for your patio bench should be one that has been developed
for outdoor use. Outdoor varnish is often called a spar varnishor a marine varnish. It usually dries more slowly than an indoor varnish, taking 12 to 48 hours to dry completely, but it is definitely more resistant to the elements than indoor varnishes. There is some variation in drying time within varnish brands, so be sure to consult the container for application recommendations and drying time. As with paint, varnish is applied in even strokes by a paintbrush or by an electric sprayer. It is best to pour the varnish into a container as you work if you apply by brush. This will prevent dried flecks of varnish from falling into the container and contaminating your unused portion of varnish. To help the finish on your patio bench last longer, keep it in a protected area where sunlight, wind, and rain exposure are kept to a minimum, and store it in an enclosed structure during the winter months if you live where there is snow and extreme cold conditions. Also, clean your patio bench periodically with a warm water and mild soap mixture. Dirt is one of the main culprits when it comes to ruining outdoor furniture finishes. A little caution, some simple refinishing, a few hours of your time, and your outdoor patio bench will soon hold its own against the backdrop of your green thumb.
A Fresh Trek On ...
When Jean-Marc, the owner of Fresh Treks, invited me to go trekking with him, I thought it would be a piece of cake. After all, I am a professional adventure writer. But, two days into the three-day long ordeal, I felt more like a writer than an adventurer. His warm French accent and lighthearted smile disguised a sinister knowledge, mainly, that he knew I was about to discover how out of my element I would be. A Brooklyn boy is just not designed to climb a mountain in Taiwan. Apparently, climbing nearly 4,000 metres, with all of your gear and food on your back, was a bit more difficult than I had anticipated. Four thousand metres didn’t sound like a long way. A fast runner can cover 4,000 metres, at sea level, in about 15 minutes. A competitive swimmer would need about 40 minutes. On a bicycle you could do it in about 20 minutes. To climb 4,000 metres of altitude, trekking, could require two to three days of arduous walking, scrambling, and cursing in Italian. That last part may have just been my own personal reaction. But you get the point. The length of the climb is not directly proportional to the altitude. In climbing, the nearly 4,000 metres, to the top of San Cha Shan Mountain, we covered a total distance of about 27 KM. Much of that time we were above 2,000 metres, which is the point where you first begin to feel the effects of the thinning air. The higher you go, the more energy you need to even take a single step. The altitude issue is complicated by the fact that the higher you go, the more climbing you have completed, and the more
tired you are. San Cha Shan Mountain Apart from Jean-Marc and myself, the rest of the team was a nice, mix of international demographics. There were two French men, a French woman, a Dutch man, four Taiwanese women, and an American man. At thirty-seven, I was the grandfather of the group. The first two kilometres of the trek were extremely steep. We struggled up the damp, humid trail, losing sight of the sun, which was hidden behind a nearly perfect green sky, made of leaves. The jungle on San Cha Shan is so densely overgrown with tough grass and strong bamboo that it was nearly impossible to step even a few feet off of the trail. Since the thick growth prevents you from making a camp at any place other than the few campsites, which are on the trail maps, a lot of planning has to go into your trek. Namely, you have to know how many kilometres you can cover in an hour, and insure that you reach the campsite before dark. This being a holiday weekend, we had the added problem that there were hundreds of trekkers on the trail ahead of us. Assome of the sparse camps were only large enough for one or two tents, competition for the sleeping grounds
was fierce. We reached the first campsite in the early afternoon. It was a little early to stop for the night, and we probably could have made the next campsite
before dark, but we decided to stay where we were, for fear that the next campsite might be occupied. Within minutes of erecting our tents, we realized that we had made the right decision. A second group arrived, and tried to seize our land. ‘Our group leader believes we willsleep here tonight’, said a Taiwanese woman, expecting us to take our tents down and move on. ‘I guess he’s going She tried several more times to get us to leave, by evoking the power of this unseen leader. But we were unmoved. Afterwards, one of our team members, Janet, a Taiwanese girl from New York City said. ‘We should have said ‘Take me to your leader’’. I mean, when do you ever get to use that phrase? Right after the leader-lady left, it began to rain. If there had been any doubt that we had made camp too early, before, there was none now. Although at my home in Kaohsiung the weather felt like a New York summer, inside that dense forest, at altitude, the weather felt like a Scottish winter. We all put on our raingear, and stood around, shivering, while Jean-Marc prepared dinner. True to the French stereotype, food seemed to be the one thing that Jean-Marc valued more than photos. Dinner was an elaborate affair, which began with vegetable soup, followed
by brazed meat and vegetables, served over noodles, and accompanied by good, European bread, French cheese and French sausage. Covered in mud, and soaked to the bone in an Asian forest one does not expect to hear the phrase. ‘Who would like more fromage and saucisson?’ All of the meals were at least this good. And every meal was followed by coffee and alcohol. The excellent food added a surreal quality to the trip. Jeremy, the American on our team said. ‘Man, I don’t eat this well at home.’ I had to agree with him. It’s pretty sad when you have to go into the woods to get a good meal. As much as we all enjoyed talking together, the rain drove us back to our tents immediately after our meal. Our campsite was only inches larger than our three tents. In fact, I could only barely squeeze between the jungle and the opening of my tent. Next, it was a balletic feat of contortion to get inside. Just to remove my shoes I had to twist myself into impossible positions. I looked like something between a yoga routine, and the solo version of the Karma Sutra, balancing, with one naked foot inside the tent, and a filthyboot hanging outside. Next came removing wet clothing, while sitting on my sleeping bag, it was hopeless. Perhaps if I had been more limber I could have had a dry place to sleep. Late that night, there was a commotion coming from the girls’ tent. One of the Taiwanese woman, May Li, overcome by some nameless phobia, had gone insane, running into the jungle, screaming. For some inexplicable reason, at that exact moment, four Taiwanese guys, from another group, were coming down the trail. May Li begged them to take her down the mountain. This was baffling for the rest of us. Why were these guys hiking down the mountain in the dark, and in a rainstorm? Even more, I couldn’t imagine what imaginary fear had driven May Li to want to join these strange men in such a dangerous undertaking. It had taken us several hours to hike in, and that was in the light, and with favourable weather conditions. In the dark, and with this rain, they would probably have to hike all night. Jean-Marc was called out of the tent to deal with the May Li situation. As much as I thought it would have been an entertaining spectacle, I opted to remain in the semi-comfort of my damp sleeping bag. Perhaps in
better weather I might have tried to stop her. But under these conditions, I thought. May Li was a big girl. If she wanted to commit suicide, that was her business.
After several failed attempts to convince her to stay, Jean-Marc let May Li go. As he explained to me later, he could possibly have forced her to stay that night, but then she would have to tag along with us for the next three days, which would possibly have been even more traumatic for her. The next morning, we donned headlamps, and broke camp at 3:30 AM. The rain had stopped, but the whole forest was dripping-wet. We were soaked to the bone within minutes of starting out. Luckily, as the day progressed, the weather warmed up. Eventually, the jungle broke, and gave way to rolling green hills, bathed in sunlight. The combination of being able to see the sun again and feeling dry and warm raised our spirits. The views from the hills were incredible. The whole world was green, right up to where it met a clear sky, of the deepest blue. It could have been Thailand. Without the jungle it could have been the Alps. It could have been anywhere. It was hard to believe that it was Taiwan. I thought Taiwan was the smelly, congested cities that sprawl endlessly, blocking the sun. But at that moment I remembered that Taiwan was also a tropical island, in the Pacific Ocean. Although the urban sprawl is what most people see, nearly the entire population of Taiwan is centred along the West coast, which leaves the most of the interior of the island uninhabited, natural, and breathtaking. As much as the scenery was pleasant, hours and hours of walking, climbing up and up is exhausting. There were times I let a photo-op go by, simply because I was too tired to lift my camera. Jean-Marc, who is in incredible shape, from doing these trips for a living, would point out some natural feature. Fatigue robbed me of both enthusiasm and civility. ‘Tomorrow, we will get up early and watch the sun rise on the lake’. ‘Big deal’. I was panting like a dog, climbing up in the thin air. I suspected that someone was sneaking up behind me, and putting rocks in my backpack, because it kept getting heavier all day. ‘Don’t you want to see the sunrise?’, he asked. ‘I’ve seen sunrises. It rises in Brooklyn too, you know.¨ I had flown five thousand miles, to Taiwan, so I could be out in the rain, sleep on the ground, and urinate on a bush. We have peoplelike that back in Brooklyn, but we call them homeless. Normally, I do all of my adventure trips alone. But having so many interesting people to talk to was nice. When we could muster the energy to talk, Jeremy and I discussed politics. Normally. At rest, I could hold my own. But as I mentioned, he was fifteen years younger than I was. So, when I was panting, crawling along at a snail’s pace, he was leaping up beside me, saying things like. ‘The CIA killed Kennedy.’ Or, ‘The IMF is evil’. Normally, I enjoy the IMF argument. But this day, I was so tired I found it easier to just agree with everything. ‘You’re right’ I wheezed.’ The Europeans were also a lot of fun, never missing an opportunity to remind me how uneducated and uncouth Americans are. Of course no one had bathed in three days, so it was hard to take them seriously. That’s the nice thing about trekking. It makes everyone equal. And itmakes everyone smelly. That’s why communism could never work. The only end of the spectrum where we
could all find equality is the smelly end. It’s hard to imagine, but even my imaginary- girlfriend, Britney Spears, would smell if she walked all day and slept in her clothes. In fact, that realization reduced my Britney obsession to unusually tolerable levels. I may even stop stalking her. We reached the refuge by early afternoon. This was an aluminium hut, which would be our lodgings for the night. Once again, we were torn. We would have liked to continue, another two and a half kilometres up to the lake,but just as we had decided to stay where we were, it began to pour. We weren’t alone in the refuge. A large Taiwanese group was also there. Even on the coldest day, the
Taiwanese just don’t close the door behind them when they enter or leave a room. They just have no regard for other people. One of them would go outside, and leave the door open, and the rain and cold would come in. Then one of the Europeans in our
party would have to get up and close the door. Two minutes later, another Taiwanese would go outside, leaving the door open. And once again, one of us would take it in turn to close the door. At one point, an old guy came over, and announced with great authority that he was the leader of the other group. I yawned. He then said that we had to leave the door open or we would all die of carbon dioxide poisoning. I laughed. When I realized he wasn’t joking, I was just getting ready to belittle him, when Jean Marc intervened. He had an incredible way with people, and within minutes, he had this guy eating out of his hand. Where I wanted to destroy the guy, Jean-Marc wanted to make friends with him. This must be the fundamental difference between Brooklyn and France. Outside the refuge there was a single water pipe, which dripped a slow trickle into a large washbasin. I was refilling my bottle, by holding it under the pipe, when the leader of the other group came over and began giving me a dressing down.
‘You should fill your bottle from the washbasin, not from the pipe, because it takes to long.¨ People had been washing dishes in the washbasin all day. There was rice and pork fat floating in it. There was no way I was drinking that water. ‘What are you crazy?¨ I yelled, in extremely rude Chinese, before Jean- Marc could intervene. ‘That water is friggin’ dirty! I’m not drinking it’.’ I was still annoyed about the open door issue. Actually, it wasn’t that the guy wanted the door open, or that he wanted me to drink someone else’s waste that annoyed me. It was the fact that because he was a group leader, he thought he could give me orders. I just wanted to make sure thathe understood that he couldn’t. ‘But that water is pure’. He protested. ‘It is spring water’.
‘This water is pure?’ I asked, splashing some of it near his feet. ‘Don’t you seeall of this crap floating in it?’ ‘ ‘We drank some yesterday’, he said, as if this somehow mattered. In my mind, all he did was confirm that he drank dirty water, not that this water was clean. ‘No, it’s fine. You just have to boil it¨, he answered, flustered. Just a minute ago, he was telling me the water was pure. Now he was telling me that it had to be boiled. Not only was he contradicting himself, but boiling wasn’t going to get that rice and pork fat out of there. At this point, Jean-Marc had heard Menough. He stepped in and made friends with the guy. Back in the Mrefuge, we staked out places for our team in the dormitory room. One of the Taiwanese girls came to me and said. ‘Another, very big group is staying here tonight. So we have to make room for them. Their leader said that you should sleep in the utility closet.’ At first, I thought she was kidding. Why would I want to sleep in a utility closet? Why would I want to take
orders from someone else’s group leader? But she was serious. She was suffering from that over-obediencegene inherent in Taiwanese people. As soon as someone has the title of ‘leader’ they all bend over backwards to obey him. I checked out the utility closet, and found that it had a number of advantages over the main dormitory. It had its own door, which meant it would be much quieter. Also, it would be warmer, as the old guy wouldn’t force me to leave the door open. The only disadvantage was
that there was actually room for two people in there. For one person it was a luxurious suite. With two people it would be crowded. And, depending whom that other person was, it could be a nightmare. What I needed was a plan to keep anyone else from even considering sleeping in there with me. I put an angry scowl on my face, and came out of the utility closet looking like I did when the Dodgers moved to LA. I kicked a stool against the wall, and began shouting in Chinese, so everyone would understand. ‘Why the hell do I have to sleep in there? Is it because I am a foreigner? You want to give the bad sleeping places to the foreigners? It’s not fair’. Several of the Taiwanese came over to placate me. They explained again that the group leader had ‘requested’ that I
sleep in there. ‘So, why doesn’t he go sleep in there?’ It was really hard for me not to laugh. This was one of those instances where I was playing a joke, but I was the only one who knew about, and the only one who thought it was funny. In the end, I conceded to the girls’ wishes, and moped back into my cell, closed the door behind me, and did a victory dance. In an over-crowded world where everyone was forced to share everything, where the rest of my team would be sleeping side by side with strangers, subjected to the farts, burps and nightmares of people they didn’t know, I had a private room. I stretched out, way out, and went to sleep. The plan for our final day was quite ambitious. While the Europeans slept in, Jean-Marc, Jeremy, Janet, the two remaining Taiwanese girls, and I set out, at three in the morning, in order to reach the summit, in time to watch the sunrise. The idea was that we would make the five kilometre, round trip hike, and arrive back at the refuge by nine o’clock, when we would pick up the rest of the team, and hike all the way back down to the car. This meant, by the end of the day, our advance team would have hiked 17 km. The one advantage we had in the hike to the summit was that we had left our packs in the refuge. But, even unladen, the last thousand metres of elevation were painful. Far above the protection of the tree line, the way was steep, exposing us to the bonechilling mountain winds. This was the first time in my life, other than on an
airplane, that I could ever look down, and see clouds, like a huge, rolling, white carpet of cotton stretching out to infinity. The view reminded me of being out at sea, and not knowing where the earth ended and the skybegan. Through my frantic breathing, even I was able to appreciate the wonder that we witnessed. But, it would get even better. Slowly, the most distant clouds began to glow a dull yellow. Next, theyellow turned to orange, and the spot of colour expanded. Finally, orange gave way to bright red, as the sunrise turned our carpet of cotton to a carpet of roses. The sun may rise in Brooklyn, but it never looked like this. In the golden light that played along the fluffy clouds you could see the hand of God. Once the sunrise show was over, we hiked back to the refuge. We took a ten-minute nap, and began down the mountain. You would think that hiking down would be easier than hiking up. And, it is. But, it is much harder on your knees, and requires more care, as you are prone to falling.
The trip down reminded me of driving in a heavy rain. You make slow progress, and are exhausted by your careful attention and vigilance. Each step had to be thoroughly thought out, or you would land face down. I lost count at three hundred times, but I know I fell a lot. Each time, luckily, I landed on my butt, which was nice, since my feet were blistered; there was certain symmetry to having a bruised bottom. I took a lot of the more difficult obstacles ape-style, using my arms as much as my legs. This also balanced things out. Since my lower body had gotten such a good work out, I wanted to give my arms some exercise too. When we were less than two hours
from the bottom, we stopped for a breather, when another, old Chinese guy attacked us. He puffed up his chest, walked over to us, and began shouting at us rudely in English. ‘You clean up your trash’, he commanded. Trash? What trash? We had only been there two seconds. We hadn’t eaten anything. In fact, we hadn’t even taken off our packs. ‘I am the manager of the volunteer mountain cleaners’, he shouted, as if someone cared. I was trying to catch my breath, so I could straighten him out, when Jean- Marc, who is in much better shape than I am jumped up, and made friends with the guy. Jean-Marc commended him on the value of his work, and thanked him for protecting the forest They shook hands about fifty times. At one point, I thought they were going to get a room together, or at least hug, but the guy was late for an
appointment to yell at someone else. As he was leaving, the old guy, inexplicably, turned around, and yelled in English. ‘I am a retired school teacher’. ‘What the hellwas that?’ I asked, after he had gone. ‘What do you mean?’, asked Jean- Marc, as if he hadn’t seen what I had. ‘I can’t believe how nice you were to that guy’. Jean-Marc laughed. ‘You are funny because you are always angry. If I ha a tape recorder, then every time I was sad I could listen to you complaining or yelling at people and it would cheer me up’. I was nearly the last to reach the car. And when I got there, I thought I would die. Since we couldn’t shower, I at least wanted to change clothes, but my feet were so swollen, that I was worried that once I took my shoes off, I wouldn’t be able to put them back on. In the end, I had completed a long hike, seen yet another side of Taiwan, witnessed the beauty of nature, and made some new friends. I had also made some enemies, but that’s normal for me. I had suffered, but I
would gladly do it again. Next time,though, I will probably wear hiking shoes, instead of army boots. Also, I think I will put in a few hours on the stair master, so that when I have the opportunity, I won’t be too winded to yell at someone.
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