International Women don’t you just love ’em? I even married one.
On today’s International Women’s Day a shout-out then to some of the international women who took me under their wing.
Of course, the international woman of mystery whose oxter always gives me shade is my own English rose.
Boss woman: Mum’s the word, and Sadie too
And there are many more women from our nearest neighbours in Travel who have guided me on my path than I have room here to mention.
Now if anything underscores this year’s message on International Women’s Day #BeattheBias it is the success of those who occupy the biggest positions in our trade.
And so ladies take a bow, I would be nothing without you… you are all worthy Bandanettes.
White knight
Power women: Bandanaman, Jo, Cathy and United Airlines’ Aoife
Organising my life is hard enough left to just one man which is why I leave that job to my aforementioned English rose.
But when you’re on your travels to the good old Oo Es of Eh you really do need someone on the ground.
And that someone is Jo White who heads up the UK & Ireland media delegation for the American Travel Fair.
I know I speak for all of us indulged travellers who have sought her out to help with dodgy dongles, accommodation and transfers.
And who have danced the night away to the best music acts put on by her American counterpart and fellow superstar Cathy Keefe Reynolds.
Now hosts have a right, nay an obligation, to enjoy the activities they put on for us.
And after Attraction Tickets’ Kate Bates had asked me for recommendations for our party to take on in Hollywood she’d have expected me to take part.
Alas, the generosity of a stranger (moi) to take a passenger’s ski bag meant I was out of commission.
For the day Kate, Jon, Helen and Heather trekked up to see the Hollywood sign, check out Warner Studios and go on a boat trip.
I did have more to write about my West Hollywood hotel though that day.
And I did bounce back to see old friends at Universal Studios the next day.
Ms Carter
Get Carter: Cheryl and Bim Jim
I love a strong woman, probably as I’m begotten of an Irish Mammy.
And in the Caribbean they don’t come much stronger than Cheryl Carter, Barbados’s Head of Global Markets.
One raised eyebrow will quickly remind you that there will be no going AWOL on her trip.
And so I was left in no doubt when I asked early leave from our dinner to hook up with my half-Scots/half-Trinidadian pal Jevan for Foreday Morning of my obligations.
To be ready for the next day’s activities.
Now what happens at Foreday Morning stays on Foreday Morning.
But when I turned up for our meeting with my leg gashed open I gritted my teeth… the rum through the day helped.
There was an award-winning editor Murty (and try to keep it clean) and while you’re at it I’ll give you some thoughts on World Poetry Day and corners of some foreign fields.
My own holiest of holies is Alloway in Scotland where our national bard Robert Burns, who inspired everyone from William Wordsworth to Bob Dylan, grew up.
For the world, there is to misquote Rupert Brooke a corner of some foreign field which is forever poetry.
War poetry
War memories: The Somme
I wish the sea were not so wide
that parts me from my love,
I wish the things men do below
were known to God above.
I wish that I were back again
in the Glens of Donegal;
they’ll call me coward if I return,
but a hero if I fall.’
PATRICK MACGILL – LONDON IRISH REGIMENT
(INSCRIPTION ON MEMORIAL STONE AT ISLAND OF IRELAND PEACE PARK, MESSINES)
And no Patrick MacGill hasn’t gone down in history and exam questions like Wilfred Owen for his thoughts on World War I.
But in their darkest hour soldiers have penned some of the most stirring words which will bring a lump to the throat of anyone who sees where they fell which of course you can see on a World War Battlefields Tour.
The Road to Rome
Soothe your feet: On the road to Rome
When silence falls, things start talking,
stones, animals, plants become brothers and sisters.
And they tell us what we cannot see.’
ERNST JUNGER, SIGN IN ETRUSCAN TOWER IN FORMELLO ON THE VIA FRANCIGENA
Not sure how it sounds in his native German or if it’s even poetry.
I’m a traditionalist who likes my poems to rhyme as those who will have seen me at the Edinburgh Fringe can testify.
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
A society where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.
LORD BYRON, CHILDE HAROLD
And it was to Interlaken and the Eiger in Switzerland where Lord Byron, who was up to his neck in society gossip over his private life, took exile.
Byron was considered ‘mad, bad and dangerous to know’ and was a real rock’n’roller of his time.
But his poetry was amongst the most beautiful of all time which is probably why he was such a hit with the ladies.
This passage though shows that Byron was a man ahead of his time with this love song to nature and appeal to protect our environment.
All of which I’ll reflect on as I read some of the best poetry around (mine) and think of World Poetry Day and corners of some foreign fields.
High on a hill was a lonely goatherd, Lae Ee Od Lay Ee Od Lay Hee Hoo – The Sound of Music
And who hasn’t yodelled when they’ve found themselves in the foothills of the Alps? I know I hodelay-hodelay-hodelayhee-have.
Although we couldn’t get superstar septuagenarian and amateur yodeller Brigitte to clear her throat when she took us walking above Interlaken in Switzerland.
Yodel eh? In Austria
We did though get awesome octogenarian Arthut, or Ehrwald Presley as I coined him, doing his verbal gymnastics last year on our Top Flight for Schools trip.
Before the night ascended into an Irish wedding-type hooley.
Now your favourite music on our travels column has been over yodelling before in this series.
But on the occasion of 60 years of the Irish Austrian Society which we’ll celebrate tonight let’s explore how yodelling was carried on the wind around the world.
Gene genie
Gene’s gaffe: The Angels at Anaheim
If you’re of a certain age, or if you’re versed in cowboy movies, you’ll know all about Gene Autry.
The Singing Cowboy, who hit the heights from the Thirties through to the Sixties.
And became such a big star that he even bought himself a baseball team in 1961, the Angels, who in their current iteration are the LA Angels.
Playing for the jersey: Gene Autry, the Angel
Gene may be 22 years gone (an angel for ever now) this month.
But not, nor will he ever be forgotten, in Anaheim
There is a shrine to him at Angels stadium which you can visit ahead of a game.
The Angels held Gene in such high regard that they added him to the roster and then retired the No.26 number.
Now like us all I have my preconceptions of Cuba, their Fifties classic cars, rumba, cigars and Castro.
And my friends have been urged by all I know who tell me I must continue my Caribbeaneducation there.
Unmistakably Havana
And with my projected next destinations, the Czech Republic and Switzerland (doncha just know it?) now made pariah states by the UK it’s time for a rethink.
I’m reminded too that I have got close to Havana in that I visited San Cristobal de La Laguna in Tenerife on which Havana was based.