As I write this intro to the blog, I am trying to follow the internet commentary on a rugby game between England and Fiji. England´s rugby is so boring that I may well fall asleep mid-blog. Please wake me up at the end.
Anyway, before I do succumb, here again is a sparkling summation of Wednesday´s outing by Yves, complete with his usual whimsy, his imaginative photography AND, in a reversion to his previous APAPS persona of Aristotle -not just the beard but the brain as well - some words which have never before appeared in an APAPS blog and which we will I am sure all struggle with. And as England continue to bore, over to Yves !
APAPS toddle of August 23 2023…
The day dawned reluctantly about half an hour later than it would have liked to but it knew better than argue with a determined Leader.
Be that as it may, a slightly depleted group of fearless Geriatrics gathered at Snack Bar Martins, begging for caffeine; some needed it to wake up fully, some because it tastes nice, and one because he was hung-over, he said, and looked it…(No names, no pack drill).
The Leader had set up his camera on the wall across the road, as you do, and recorded the customary Starters’ picture with the blur of a passing car adding a splash of life to a still tableau. The Group picture was secured on the second or third attempt, the camera was dutifully retrieved and into the wilds of the Caravela Urbanisation went the Old but still-willing Walkers.
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| The Starters: Samantha, Fabrizio, Hazel, Yves, Maria, Myriam and JohnH |
The daring and dashing architecture drew its fair share of comments: as LEGO bricks go, these dwellings do have a modicum of flair! A moderately tepid dispute arose when it was noticed that one such dwelling featured an Astroturf lawn [artificial grass for the non-gardeners among us].
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| Is this a "Row"' |
The very civilised ‘row’ ended in a draw: it costs a lot less to water plastic rather than real grass but then a baa-baa spring-lamb does a very good job of keeping real grass in trim before the ‘end-of-season’ BBQ in October…
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| Bore hole drilling. I wonder why, in this area? |
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Elementary School - Chinese style |
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As the old oak tree hove (yes, a real English word used only rarely by the English poet Edmund Spenser (1552 - 1599)- well done, Aristotle) hove indeed into view, someone had to be volunteered to sit on a stout low branch: fate chose the youngest and fittest.
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| Up she goes |
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| A reminder of the tree trunk before it broke |
She was gently pushed up, the branch is not THAT low, in reality, and she manfully posed for pictures with a dazzling smile and a twinkle in her eyes, just as the Leader did but in a more feminine-like way, aye!
These extra-curricular activities were either unnoticed or ignored by the Leader and the small party of laggards found itself ‘lost’ in the savannah; there was a brief discussion whether to sprint after the Leader and leave the young lady up the tree, or help her down first and navigate at periscope depth to catch a glimpse of the Leader on a distant horizon. Despite her husband’s suggestion to the contrary, it was decided to help her down…
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| Patiently waiting.. Where the bxxxxx hxxx are they? |
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| At last, emerging from the dry savannah |
One sure way to locate the party is by the use of sound-tracking devices: that technique never fails! Soon, the group was re-formed and listening to Chapter 47 of the Great Theory of the Racial Melting Pot on APAPS outings. There is a grain of truth in that theory, more often than not, the autochthonous ( me neither) and local population is represented by a single member whose encyclopaedic knowledge of anyone coming into view is breath-taking! Never in the field of Human and Geriatric hiking have so many been recognised and greeted by so few (one!)…
So confident is the Leader of his whereabouts that he even teases some ‘old hands’ by allowing them to venture a short distance along some track at a junction before setting off authoritatively in another direction without so much as a ‘This way, folks! ‘; or ‘See you at the Café!’; all with a sly smile and a twinkle in his eye, aye!
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| If it´s a mug shot you´re after, try Donald Trump. nae me. Then Yves ventured into his creative photography mode. (I just interrupt this blog to note that Fiji are not boring; they lead England 15 - 23.) |
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| The Artist´s Caption: "Dead Swan, Dry Lake" |
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| I will not tell you what the Artist´s caption for this shot was, this is a family publication. |
And so it came to pass that we enjoyed some very short sections of old-fashioned off-piste exploring, in a respectful and discreet nod to AWW elders for whom veering into the unknown was not a mishap but a requirement, a Law, even! In those days, the rule was ‘Never lose more than 10% of the troop!’ [On some occasions, we even GAINED more than 10% en route] but with breakfast being ordered in advance, it is somewhat unbecoming to leave the caterers with ‘unwanted food’ on their hands; ‘unwanted food’? We’ve ‘eard it all, lads! (in other words, he is saying, very politely, that the Leader got lost.)
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| Toujours le gentilhomme |
(I take it all back; England have woken up and so have I : England 22 - Fiji 23. 10 minutes to go.)
The Track and the Statistics
(This shows where I went wrong. It was a pleasant stroll through the oranges, but I should have followed the yellow line. Ah well! Á la prochaine fois. And Fiji lead:; 22 - 30. Two minutes to go.)
Back at Snack Bar Martins, tables had been laid, beer had been cooled and beans has been baked: a most satisfactory conclusion to a moderately exciting early morning.
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| What a welcome sight |
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| Taking it all in |
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| Perfection |
As this writer re-joined his motor vehicle, the temperature measuring doo-dah therein read 43°C and it was only 10.45 in the morning...
Be good, folks, see you next week?
(As is customary, O Don Rod looked in to see that we were up to scratch and, while there, regaled us with tales of Portuguese bull fighting and showed us how that is mutating into the push-over try. By the way, Fiji won 22 - 30.)
And now we turn to that word which Yves-quasi-Aristotle introduced in earlier pages: autochthonous: what it means is "native, formed in the place where found". The etymology is from Greek, of course. From Ancient Greek αὐτόχθων (autókhthōn, “indigenous”), from αὐτός (autós, “self”) + χθών (khthṓn, “earth, soil”).
There is considerable intellectual debate about the correct use of the word "autochthonous" as compared with the word "indigenous", as the following extract will demonstrate.
"The term indigenous tends to be used for people who are already marginalised, while autochthonous is generally reserved for people who are dominant in a given area but fear future marginalisation. Anthropologists often sympathise with the former, while being highly critical of the latter, although a bitter debate opposes opponents and proponents of indigeneity and autochthony. We argue that the implicit criteria used in this debate need to be discussed explicitly if one wants to escape from the dead end in which the discussion finds itself today."
Well, of course, implicit criteria need to be discussed explicitly. Any fule nows that.
However, I recommend that you refer to Yves for clarification. No dead ends there.
