England/Wales Trip Photos

Woburn Abbey, Bedforshire, UK

Central Wales

Conwy Castle, Conwy, North Wales

Llandudno, North Wales (Irish Sea in the foreground)

Here are a few photos of my recent trip to England and Wales.

Rain, Rain, Rain

Shouldn't have been a big surprise, but it has been rainy and cold most of the trip here in UK. I am on my way back to Afg via Dubai. I will be there for a short week and then back to Dubai for a week with Margaret. So much traveling...

Today's Travels

Bob arrived last night so I now have a travelling partner. We awoke to another rainy day. We drove to the town of Hitchin. I found that it had changed much less than Bedford. We walked around exploring the downtown area and then sat in a coffee shop and solved the problems of the world. We then visited Woburn Abbey. I had visited this place 20 years ago when English girlfriend of the moment thought that I needed an infusion of English culture. I'm sure that I enjoyed the visit more today than then.

We will meet up with Jenn in South Wales tomorrow morning before setting off for North Wales. More then...

Rainy Day

What do you expect from English weather? I suppose that the monthly allocation of sunny weather was used up yesterday. Still, I did manage to enjoy a long drive in the country around East Anglia, finished a few housekeeping chores (laundry + holiday = Humph!) and went for a walk in the rain. I enjoyed wandering around some of the little villages of my past; Sandy, Clophill, Hitchin (not really a village), and Biggleswade. Most of them have not changed a bit.

One more day in Bedford and then off to Wales. Looking forward to every minute of it.

Where Has the Time Gone?

I have safely arrived in UK. The trip here was a bit of an ordeal: the flight from Kabul to Dubai was delayed/cancelled/changed because President Karzai was flying that day as well. Those of us that were already in the airport were removed, marched about one quarter mile away into a village, placed into a penned-in area with high fences, and guarded (read: soldiers stood there with their guns pointed at us) until the president had flown away. Interesting way to garner votes... After I finally made it into the airport, Scott called and told me there had been yet another attack on a military convoy with casualties. Dubai to London was not without excitement either. Seems someone had purchased a ticket and checked in, but 'forgot' to board. The crew had to unload all of the luggage to locate the missing person's bags and have them removed. We were a bit late arriving at Heathrow, but luckily the airport arranged to have a few other planeloads of tired (and smelly!) travellers arrive at the same time. Two hours in the passport line alone. The Heathrow reputation is well-deserved.

All that said, I am having a fantastic time. I enjoyed my drive from the airport to Bedford last night. I am staying in an inn that has been in business for a bit longer than 500 years. I had walked by this establishment so many times when I lived here so long ago, but had never been inside. I have not been disappointed. My body being on Kabul time, I awoke a little before the sun. I showered and hit the road at first light. I wandered all around the county where I had lived and worked watching the day awaken. In a country that has such long history, it should be no surprise that many of the places look and feel and smell exactly the same. After my morning's drive, I went back to the inn, grabbed a quick bite of breakfast, and walked around downtown Bedford watching the shopkeepers greet the new day. I changed into my running gear and went for a wonderful run through the Queen's Woods near Chicksands. I had run in these woods hundreds of miles while I worked at Chicksands and it felt very much like a homecoming. Even though it had been nearly 20 years since I had been on the trails, I never once got lost or took a wrong turn. Memories of a different era washed over me like a wave. The last time I had been on those trails, the Berlin Wall still stood, the Soviet Union had not yet collapsed, and I was part of the 'tip of the spear' serving in Europe. Faces and names of old friends that I had not thought of for years came back to me as I ran. What a glorious morning.

After a lunch back in Bedford, I returned to Chicksands. One of the perks of my current job is that I have a number of identity cards issued by various agencies. One of them granted me access to the base. Chicksands has a long history in the military espionage/intelligence field and it continues today. After talking to the guard commander, I was granted unescorted (unheard of!) access to the base to continue my trip down memory lane. With the notable exception of the missing elephant cage, the base looks remarkably similar to how it looked when I worked there. Most of the base housing area has been taken over by the local government agency that administers low-income housing. I found my way around the winding network of roads like no time had passed. It was a wonderful day.

My last bit of excitement was getting a proper haircut at a shop in Bedford. The woman cutting my hair said that it looked like I had been in the sun and inquired if I had been away on holiday. I told her that I was indeed on holiday here in Bedford. She laughed and asked where I had received the sun on my noggin'? I told her that I was living in Afg. The room got a bit quiet and I wondered what sort of place I had wandered in to. The young woman said quietly that there were three haircut people (you can't really call them barbers any longer, can you?) in the shop with boyfriends/husbands serving in Afg or Iraq. It was moving to see the other side of war; the loved ones at home paying a different, but not insignificant, price. She wouldn't hear of taking my money no matter how hard I tried to explain that I was civilian and not worthy of her gracious offer. I left her, and her colleagues, a nice tip and encouraged them to have a nice time tonight (it's Friday night here now) on me as they had deserved it.

All this and it's only Day 1.

UK-bound

I am in Dubai--yes, again--on my way to London. My friend Bob from the US is flying in to meet me in London for a much-anticipated ten day break. I am going to visit around Bedfordshire where I lived and worked twenty years ago. Hard to believe it has been that long since I called England home. After re-living my youth, we are going to drive west and relax a bit more in the north of Wales. It should be a wonderful time that I am looking forward to a great deal.

Shernee

In keeping with the Afghan custom of shernee, I shared my good fortune (promotion) with friends yesterday. It is the local custom that when something good happens to you, you share your happiness with your friends by buying a small gift for them. The gift can be clothing or food or any number of ways to share your happiness. One of my favorite foods here is kabobs--freshly cooked meat with fresh nan bread. Mmmmmm. One of my Afghan friends, Nasir, agreed to pick up kabobs from an excellent shop in the downtown area of Kabul and bring them to our camp for a feast. They were delicious and enjoyed by my Western and Afghans friends that were able to attend. What a nice concept to share happiness.

Sand Storm

We had an incredible sand storm yesterday. Mid-afternoon the wind started kicking up and by dinner it was really howling. We were taking bets when the first roof of the new camp would blow off. To the credit of the construction crews, it looks like all of the buildings survived. This morning all is quiet and clear again.

You Know that You Have Been in Afghanistan Too Long...

From the lists the are made anywhere soldiers congregate... the items listed are all too true. A few of my favorites.

You know that you have been in Afghanistan too long if:

• Driving on the sidewalk is normal.
• You get upset that you don't get Soviet Surplus Frequent Flyer Miles.
• Driving through the "Traffic Circles of Death" has lost its thrill.
• You aren't alarmed when every second person you see has a gun... or 2... or 3.
• You say "It feels cooler today" and find out that it is 100.
• A shower with water that is neither too cold nor too hot and contains no diesel fuel or sewage is a priceless unattainable luxury.
• You get excited by the presence of clouds.
• No matter what dead animal you are eating, it will be flavored with curry.
• Scamming a third can of soda makes you feel like you got even with someone.

More to follow...

New Mailing Address

My new mailing address:

450th CA BN
Camp Gibson, Bldg 19
APO AE 09356

Moving In

Ah, the smell of burning electrical boxes. As would be expected, there are a few snafus here in Hooverville. Quite a few folks have found that their showers leak, and the drains are located on the uphill side of the bathroom floor. I have reminded my guys that in the US they would have had to pay extra for an indoor pool. Electricity is also an adventure. We use electrical equipment from all over the world. To connect these various plugs with differing power requirements, we use some of the highest quality adaptors available on the open market. These 39 cent specials spark and smoke on the good days; they catch fire on the bad. It's all in the adventure. I'm sure that there will be more later.

Ready to Move

After living out of boxes and paper bags for the past weeks, it is finally time to move. Within the next couple of days, those of us that have called Camp Normandy home for so long will move to the newly constructed Camp Gibson. The camp is named in honor of Gerald Gibson, the first U.S. civilian police officer killed in Afghanistan helping the Afghan people reclaim their country.

After the mad push to get moved into our new home, I will be off for a little down time in the UK. I am meeting some friends in London where I will bore them to death visiting all of my old haunts before moving on to Wales for some fresh air and relaxation and much-needed battery recharging.

Some of you will think that I am off and about quite often. I'm sure that it does seem that way. The way that contract works is that you are limited to working 313 days in one calendar year. Since I work seven days per week, the only way to take time off is to be out of Afghanistan. Imagine a job that requires you to take the equivalent of one day off per week and this is what I have. Instead of taking a couple of long breaks and then be stuck with stretches of 150 days without a break, I chose to take off small chunks every four to six weeks.

Hard to believe that it is already August. I am well beyond the halfway point in this year in Kabul. What a year it has been...