Always finding a reason to bring 42 into the narrative, I note this is the first Hebden Bridge pic for 42 days, the last being on 10th April: my second-longest run without a HB pic on the blog (the longest being the 127-day trip in 2013, to Australia). In those six weeks these tomato plants have been nurtured by the wife and taken over the window sill. Bring on the next stage…
Having not been to campus since 5th April I decided I should show my face. Duly did so, and now won’t be back there until, probably, 26th June. Well, I am on study leave. Two things have emerged since my last visit: first, all the leaves on the trees, second, the encampment raised in protest against what is happening in Gaza. I assume the leaves will still be there in June. The tents, who knows?
Since I last changed planes there in 2015, on the way to Kilimanjaro, Istanbul has built a completely new airport about 30 mies out of the city which is now the second-busiest airport in Europe after Heathrow. It did seem to me that you could catch a plane from there to just about anywhere, certainly in Europe, Africa and Asia — a landmass of which it occupies a very strategic point, and always has done.
I was there early, left early, but so did a lot other people — this moment of solitary contemplation was not characteristic of the whole. This becomes only the second shot in 4,652 days to be taken between 5 and 6am — the other also being in an airport, Manchester’s, while on my way to Moscow in January 2017.
There have been various flights depicted on here down the years and, I am guessing, my total amount of sleep achieved across all of them probably comes to little more than an hour or two. Ten minute dozes might have been snatched here and there on flights once a year, maybe. Johannesburg to Istanbul last night was no different for me. My neighbour did OK but failed to share the knack.
The wirebird — officially, the St Helena plover (Anarhynchus sanctaehelenae) but nobody calls it that — is the one species of bird that is endemic to St Helena. That is, it is found nowhere else. It is very much the symbol of the island, appearing on its flag. In my three visits here so far I had never seen one, but there it is. This is quite a coup, as this is one of the planet’s rarest birds; the latest census counted about 640 of them, so this single one is 0.15% of the entire global population. Birdwatchers, eat your heart out.
Anyway, that’s it for St Helena — this time. But, I will be back.
I was supposed to be flying out of St Helena today, but I, and the, roughly, 75 other people due to make this trip have been obliged to stay there for another 24 hours thanks to the fierce and gusty winds which were blowing over the island, despite it being otherwise a nice, sunny and quite warm day. Of the six flights I have now made to and from St Helena, two of them have been so delayed. Well, never mind, there are worse places to wait it out. The anemometer was spotted above the Castle in Jamestown, and seemed appropriate. The wonkiness of the background is not my error: much of St Helena actually does look so non-perpendicular.
Had cause to return to Saint FM this morning, not to appear on the radio (unlike last time), just for a chat. My eye was drawn to this board, partly because of its nice grain, also because of the essential randomness of what’s there and what’s not. What did microphones 2 and 5-8 do to offend? What of L1, and what is an L anyway (loudspeaker)? Could I have centred it all a bit better? Probably.
The island of St Helena was discovered in May — at least according to tradition, May 21st 1502. Hence its name, as that’s the feast day of St Helena. So this may have prompted May 2024 being declared ‘St Helena Culture Month’, and here’s probably the world’s most senior St Helenian academic, Professor Dan Yon, doing his bit for it with a public lecture in the museum in Jamestown tonight. Not that he teaches here — Toronto is his usual base.
The colony of Muscovy ducks that used to live around the marina in Hebden Bridge, and peaked at about six individuals, seems to have disappeared — but members of the species have managed to find St Helena, in the middle of the ocean. Why does the one on the right not have the same facial bulges as the other? I suspect, just because it’s younger. They grow their faces over time. As do we humans, of course.
A few days to go on this trip to St Helena and work has definitely been keeping me busy. On the opposite side of the street I was sat there at just past clocking-off time, feeling very much like these guys. Yes, the butt bin to the right annoys me. But only slightly.
Being 42 