Wendy Knee

Losing Weight 26th January

Wendy Knee — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 14:14:42 +0000

I met up with my friend Anna on Tuesday afternoon in the main plaza. We haven’t seen each other for nearly ten years. Anna used to lodge with us in North Somerset and saw on facebook that I was in Merida and as she was in the Yukaton she contacted me. We sat and chatted and went for a meal and talked some more, we went to the Plaza Santiago, where I had been the week before, there is dancing in this square every Tuesday night. The band played and the people danced but the day was long and so I walked back home and Anna went off back to the town centre looking for more excitement.
During the night I woke up with terrible stomach ache and before too long the toilet and I could not be parted. What was I going to do? I had arranged to meet Anna between 10 and 11 at the Italian café, a bad choice as she doesn’t drink coffee. I went back to bed and hoped that the moment would pass; then I remembered the magic of Imodium and took a pill. I went to sleep for an hour and decided to make the journey into town. I was okay but definitely not eating or drinking. I met Anna in the café and felt extremely thirsty and ordered a coke. It worked. We talked about everything and anything, it was great to be with her. We decided to go to the zoo as a bus ride may not be a good idea in my condition. We walked slowly to the zoo, it was great. Reminiscent of a Russian zoo, a lot of cement structures and old metal merry go rounds for the children but it is free and we wandered around looking at monkeys, exotic birds and big cats. There were a lot of Bengali tigers, I hope that it is because they are breeding them. There was also a family of hippos, the male was huge. The highlight of the day was the enormous iguana that appeared on top of one of the cages right opposite us as we sat and on one of the benches talking. He clambered down the side of the cage and I wondered what on earth I was going to do if he crossed the path towards us. The Mexicans were unperturbed and we all took advantage of this photo opportunity. On we wandered and I was beginning to feel a bit queasy and decided to take a sickness pill, big mistake. I came over all funny and for a moment I thought that I was going to faint. We sat on a bench until the moment passed and I said that I ought to get back home as I was feeling very tired. We caught a taxi, luxury, and I was soon tucked up in bed again, it was 3.30p.m. I was sorry to leave Anna early as she was catching the overnight bus to Cancun, but we had managed to talk about lots of things and it was refreshing to be able to have such stimulating conversation.
I slept on and off and read my book, or should I say Kindle, which I’m getting used to. I tried to stay awake until 9p.m. and then went to bed properly and slept until 6 this morning. I didn’t eat anything yesterday and after my delicious coke yesterday morning, a drink I seldom have, I’ve had nothing. I had a cup of black tea this morning and will probably eat something later. I knew that I would lose weight, we walk everywhere and it is hot. But the bug is the one that really eases you on your way to shedding those pounds. I hope now that this is it, my illness of the holiday and I can get on and enjoy myself. No more meat, from now on I am going vegetarian, the only thing I ate differently from Anna in the restaurant was the meat.

The Working Day

Wendy Knee — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 13:23:30 +0000

Tuesday 25th January
I get up around 6.30a.m., make myself a cup of black tea and then maybe some breakfast, toast, sometimes an egg and then get ready to go. We usually walk for about 20 minutes to catch a bus and it is really pleasant at this time of day, cool and quiet. On the bus for nearly an hour as it rattles it way in and out of small streets. The road system here is a grid one and we go round in squares to get back to where we want to be as they are often one way. I don’t mind the journey and at one point we go through a local market, the huge speakers blaring out music outside the food stalls. Once we get to our stop, which is not a stop at all; you have to look out for the building with the big terracotta arch and then on the right hand side you will see three trees with stone surrounds, that’s where we get off. We then walk for about 20 minutes down a long straight open, dusty track to where the girls are staying in a ‘safe’ house.
These girls have had some terrible experiences and they are now being looked after by ‘mamas’. When we get there a woman unlocks the gates and we go into a large Mexican house where the girls are already seated around two large tables and after greeting each other we start the lesson. We teach them English and we are lucky having Pia with us who is very organised with lesson plans and procedures. We have been doing sessions using working in a shop, restaurant or café and we split the girls into three groups and we get them to write down questions and answers in English. After that we ask them to play out a small scene each asking the other a question in English. Not only does it get them using the words we are hoping to improve their confidence. Often these girls have low self esteem and they need to be lifted. There are 16 of them and I can remember my group names very well. I am working on learning the rest!
They are lovely girls and I enjoy the work enormously. Unlike Uganda this is more like serious teaching as without preparation it would be a long two hours. We also introduce a little levity by playing a game, charades for example and today we did a pass the parcel game. As they unwrap a layer of paper it will has an English sentence written on it and they have to read it out. I know it is quite difficult because I am trying to remember Spanish phrases and can’t believe that I can’t remember from one day to the next. But the more you do it, the better it becomes. There is no break and so by the time we finish you feel quite tired but exhilarated and the girls will often come up and say goodbye and kiss you on one cheek. We then start the long journey home, only the sun is higher in the sky and it is hot, very hot. That’s why I often get the bus to Progressa and go for a swim in the sea, or go to the Hotel Trinidad and swim in their pool. Today my friend Anna is in Merida and so I am going to meet her in the square at four o’clock; I’m looking forward to it. Now I must get writing those English sentences in readiness for my lovely class!

Monday 24th January – Another Fiesta

Wendy Knee — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 05:01:16 +0000

Sunday Evening
We left Rio Lagartos on the eleven o’clock bus for Merida. The whole weekend had cost me approximately £100 including accommodation, food and excursions. It was money well spent, I feel totally rested and privileged to have been to such a beautiful place. We got back to Merida at about 2p.m. and spent the afternoon catching up on cooking and washing.
The internet is down. A car ran into the telegraph pole opposite the house in the early hours of Saturday morning and it snapped in half cutting the wire to our side of the road. Heaven only knows when we will get reconnected as we live in a back street and I should think that we are low priority.
Ian and I got dressed up and went to the Grand Plaza for the Sunday night out; a stage had been built at one end of the square and there was a great band playing. Once again it was packed with people dancing and walking about, sitting outside the cafes drinking and enjoying the whole atmosphere. We had a drink; I had a pina colada, a drink that I am getting quite fond of! We moved nearer to the front to get a better feel of the music, the trumpets and the drums kept the pace moving and two singers, a man and a woman, took turns to sing. Then it was suddenly all over. The lights went out and before they could start getting their equipment off the stage men were dismantling the barriers.
We wandered around the Mayan market stalls buying ear rings and admiring the exquisite embroidery. We were attracted into a side street where five drummers were playing. It was hypnotic as the beat hammered through your body. A little boy was jumping up and down to the rhythm. Back on the square for a plate of chips a strolling band came by and I gave them some coins, mainly because they had a tenor sax with them. We then went on to the Italian café for a café friore, a cold coffee served in a tall glass with chocolate chips in it and a topping of a swirl of cream, absolutely delicious, a great end to a great weekend. On the way back to the house we met Pia who was just on her way out to go to a party, that is the difference between the young and the old!
Monday 24th January
It is 10.30p.m. and we have just got back from the main plaza. Ian and I arranged to go out for a drink with Carlos, the young man who helps us with teaching the girls on a Monday when we go to the library. He lives in an enormous town house. It stretches from one street right through to another. It is truly amazing. He has decided to do bed and breakfast to raise some money whilst he is studying at university and showed us around. He is only 20 years old and lives alone with his mother in the house whom we met, a lovely gentle woman. His father lives about six hours drive away, he didn’t explain the family situation and I didn’t ask.
We went to the Mayan bar but it was closed and so we went into the square and sat at an open window in an upstairs bar. Down in the square a band was playing and a procession was being organised outside the cathedral. When the procession began led by the band made up of a line of trumpeters and a line of drummers it was amazing. The ladies were all dressed in the beautiful Mayan dress that is white and very heavily embroidered at the yoke and hem, a lace underskirt shows beneath. In their hair they wore a pile of flowers twisted around ones side of the hair line. The men all wore white suits and panama hats. There were children dressed in the traditional costume as well. Some paraded carrying flowers others carried banners between them and the Mayan virgin was carried aloft by four men. There were three bands in all and the number of people taking part all dressed in the traditional costume was endless.
Once on the far side of the square their was the inevitable announcements before the music began and these beautiful people danced.
In the concert hall nearby a blues band was playing to another packed audience, and it is Monday night! This is a fantastic town.

Flamingoes, Sunday 22nd January 2012

Wendy Knee — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 18:01:57 +0000

Sunday 22nd January Rio Lagartos: We got a luxury bus at 2p.m. from Merida to Tizmni, it took two and on arrival in Tizimni we got on another bus to Rio Lagartos that got us there soon after five o’clock. We walked down to the seafront and then following instructions from one of the locals we found our hotel, Ville de Pescadores, as recommended by Tila back at the house. We dumped our stuff in the room and went straight up onto the roof to watch the sun go down sinking below the sea horizon. We are staying in a Nature reserve the lagoon is outlined by mangrove trees. We walked around the little town and it is very quiet apart from a vehicle circumnavigating the streets belting out music and an announcement, which I think may be political. At first I thought that there was a fiesta in the square but no such luck, just children playing. We ate in the hotel restaurant on this our first night. It was simple food, I had a delicious piece of fresh fish fried in butter and served with the house special rice and salad. We went to bed at about ten o’clock. The next day we got up at six and went to meet the fisherman with whom we had arranged to go and see the flamingos. The water was flat as we chugged quietly away from the jetty, we left in arc, which I was later to learn was a deep channel out as there are lots of sand banks. It was peaceful cruising through the mangroves, the wind on my face and as we rode directly into the rising sun we saw it change from orange to yellow to a blinding brightness as it rose higher in the sky. Francisco, our captain, slowing down pointed out various birds to us including frigates who had followed us out of our moorings, herons, egrets and a pair of osprey. I was so pleased to be here on this water safari and grateful to be with someone to share it with. Every now and then Francisco would go slowly alongside the mangroves, looking for crocodiles but there were none to be seen. Bearing in mind we were not given life jackets or any instruction on impending doom I didn’t know if I was pleased or not to see a crocodile. The lagoon is huge and we must have travelled for about half an hour, the frigates leading the way their sharp outline stark against the clear blue sky. The mangrove is dense and sometimes quite smelly, and then we would round a bend and into an open stretch of water before entering another narrow straight where the herons and egrets would stand and stare. Pelicans roosted on the bare branches of dead trees whilst other birds looked as if they were walking on water as they picked their way across a sandbank just under the water line. We saw a white pelican from Canada, and stopped to photograph a black eagle hawk perched up on top of one of the dead trees. Francisco threw a fish high up into the air for it to catch but before it got it’s talons on the fish a pelican came out of nowhere and swept it up in his huge beak. We went under an old wooden bridge where some of the workmen were fishing using a circular net with weights around the edge, we watched as they hauled out several large fish. On we sped towards the feeding area of the flamingos and I worried about the sun and wind on my face. As we rounded another bend into a wide open space Francisco pointed across and there were bright pink dots far away, the flamingos. He said that we had to go carefully now as the water was only 30cms deep. He used a pole to punt us towards the birds. We must approach them slowly as they need to feed for ten hours a day to conserve enough energy to fly in the early morning and the evening. One bird took flight whilst we were there but it was astounding to see these brightly coloured birds picking their way through the water walking together like soldiers, their spindly legs bending at a sharp angle at the knee as they tip toed through the shallows. It was difficult to know whether to take notes, photographs or just sit and watch them. I decided on the latter. As we left the area the birds were picked out in the bright sunlight they were as blossom on the water, such beauty and elegance was dreamlike in this peaceful place. The engine purred as we made our way to the salt fields nearby, they were grey and ugly next to the mangrove and lagoons. We poked the nose of the boat into the bank and Francisco helped us off and we scrambled up the salt bank, on the other side was the red lake. Red because of the small shrimp that live in the water, it is this creature that the flamingos feed on and what gives them their colour. On the return journey we cruised the mangrove again looking for a crocodile, I loved feeling the sun on my back as we sauntered through the lagoon. Then the boat turned full circle, Fransisco had seen a croc. He wasn’t very large and at first hard to see, he blended in so well with the muddy ground where he lay. He got up and went quickly to the water’s edge and slipped in right in front of us, we could see his eyes, but not for long, he disappeared under the water. We took off and only to slow down once more to , appeared once more to accompany us home. We pulled in at nine o’clock. We had breakfast at the hotel and then caught another boat to go to the beach, about ten minute ride out of the lagoon and into the open sea,; bearing right we were beached on the most beautiful white beach that stretched as far as the eye could see and nobody else was there. We asked the boatman to come back in three hours. There were open sided grass huts for shelter from the sun but we wanted to swim nd then we walked to the end of the beach, probably about half a mile where it turned a corner and carried on. It was perfect. In the afternoon we rented bicycles and cycled around the town getting to know it better at the farthest end was a deserted holiday place and a path indicated ‘Guadeloupe’ curious we followed it through the mangrove where it led to a church. The door was open and I ventured in; it was decorated with colourful paper flowers in true Mexican style. We cycled back with a warm breeze blowing on my glowing skin; you could hear the rattle of children playing and the cracked church bell clanging out the hour. At six o’ clock we went back up on the roof to watch the sun go down and watch the women arm in arm, take the paseo, walking around the streets, whilst the men sat on the sea wall talking. The hotel owner came up onto the roof and sat quietly when he left he spread out his arms and then with his hands in prayer he thanked God for such beauty, ‘and it’s free’ he said.

Thursday 19th January

Wendy Knee — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 14:04:42 +0000

Thursday 19th January:
So what is it like living here? The house is large on a side street about a mile from the centre of town and we often walk into town. I am in a room downstairs, just off the kitchen with Ian and upstairs there are two rooms, one with four bunk beds and one with two bunk beds. The smaller of the two rooms accommodates two girls who are very good friends, the other room has six girls at the moment. I believe there is a sun roof, but I haven’t been up there yet, leaving it to the young girls to lie and bake in the sun during the day and drink tequila at night.
We share the kitchen and cook our food. The first thing is to grab a space on the shelf for your dried goods and then to bag a space in the fridge for everything else. The fridge seems to be the hardest to maintain and I bought myself a plastic box to put my meagre rations in, meagre because I don’t buy huge bottles of coke or fanta. Generally speaking we rub along quite well as the girls choose to do volunteering that doesn’t start until the afternoon. fIVE days a week I leave early, before 8a.m. to catch a bus or buses to my destination and the journey takes about an hour, mainly because it winds it’s way around the suburbs. I always travel with Ian who knows the ropes but yesterday I went on my own to Progresso, I’ve lost my gorgeous Mexican swimming costume and Progresso is the only place that sells them. I went on a large bus, quite comfortable, and it takes about 40 minutes. It’s a long straight road for bout 25 kilometres. TheY drive quite fast and brake just before they want to stop so that we all lurch forward. In Progresso I got the one remaining large swim suit left. There are about three shops, I mean stalls, that sell them and they are all small. Once again I had to go behind a makeshift screen and squeeze into nylon fabric. I was absolutely sweating buckets by the time I squeezed into the one that I was going to have to buy. I had to buy it because there wasn’t anything else and having lost my other one I probably will never be able to buy another costume in the Yukaton to fit me. I kept it on and went straight down to the beach and into the sea, it was bliss. The waves had calmed down and the current wasn’t as strong and I was grateful just to be in the water. An American asked me what it was like as I sat drying myself in the sun, I didn’t have a towel with me as I had gone to Progresso straight from looking after the children. He tried to make out how lucky we were in England to have the Gulf Stream dashing past our doorstep all the way from Florida. This is lucky, being here in Mexico where the water really is warm.
You must never put toilet paper down the toilet. On day two I put toilet paper down the toilet, realised what I had done and tried to retrieve some of it. The next person to go in, Theo, complained that the toilet was blocked. ‘Oh no,’ I cried, ‘you must never put toilet paper down the toilet as the pipes are so small,’ making a tiny circle with my finger and thumb. Theo nodded in agreement and my guilt was all over me.
Ian and I tend to keep to ourselves, simply because we’re the early birds and get up and out and by the time we get back to the house the others have gone off to their projects. They go out for the occasional meal and then come back complaining that it wasn’t as good as they thought it would be, though it is often followed by a visit to a night club. Last night Ian and I went to a very smart bar, Café Chocolate, and had a Pina Colada for 33 pesos, about £1.50, it was nectar. I only had the one and then we walked back through the streets, quite a long way; Ian peeled off to the right to go to his usual haunt for his usual couple of drinks, women are not invited, not unless you are ‘the other woman’. I peeled off to the left and made my way home. I usually go to bed around 10 o’clock and read by my headlight for twenty minutes and then I sleep very well until 6.30a.m. I am seldom disturbed by the rest of the house returning so must be getting used to subconscious noises. I am looking forward to going away this weekend for a change of scenery, and to get away from the close proximity of the house, otherwise I generally like it here and get on well. I start Spanish lessons next Monday.

MEXICO

Wendy Knee — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 04:34:11 +0000

Monday 16th January
Last night Ian, Debbie and I went in to town to go to the free concert. When we arrived in the main square it was packed with people dancing to a large band. It wasn’t long before Debbie had been invited to dance with a young man and then he asked me. You step from one foot to the other, there is no gliding across the floor but you do get the odd twirl. He was very patient and said that the most important thing was to enjoy yourself. And we did, I danced with Ian and drank my first margarita. It was salty and sour. I had forgotten what it was like after so many years. Did I really like it? I didn’t finish it. I’ll have to find another local brew.
The concert was classical music with some Bach and Holst. There were two trumpet players, two trombones and a French horn. An unusual combination but it worked well. Afterwards we walked the dark empty streets to Passeo Montejo to admire the grand Spanish mansions lit up at night. It was spectacular after walking through the surrounding poverty. My legs were aching from so much walking and we made our way back to the house, passing a charming little theatre where a performance was well under way. This is a remarkable place.
Yesterday when we went to the beach I had to buy a swimming costume, mine was in England. I asked several women in Merida but there was none to be found. Eventually at the coast in little shops on the way to the beach I found what I didn’t really want but it was the only one that fitted me. I was squeezed behind a makeshift screen and was passed several two piece costumes in garish colours which were shapeless and baggy. ‘Mas grande?’ No I had the biggest they could offer and believe me some of the women in this country are big, small but big, and I couldn’t get a costume to fit me. Finally a lady gave me the largest that she had in the shop and it slipped over my British curves. ‘Stupendo!’ she declared and I bought it. I look like a fifties beach babe in my multi coloured suit with a flap of circular skirt to ease the eye on my ample hips. Once in the sea I felt as if I as swimming in my dress.

Tuesday 17th January
Yesterday was my first day working with the project. Pia, Ian and I went to the library; we were joined by Carlos, a local lad who Ian met last year. He is great to have along as whilst we are conducting English classes it was helpful to have someone who spoke Spanish to support us. Pia led the group as she is using the experience as part of her thesis at university.
We went to the beach again in the afternoon; a cruise ship had come in and it was crowded with Americans but you only had to walk a little way up the beach to find a quiet place. The jetty is the longest in the world and was built after the seisal trade died in order that container ships could land their goods. It was also an opportunity for cruise ships to arrive. You can see the lorries and the coaches trundling along the endless jetty backwards and forwards.
Today I went with Ian and Pia to where the girls. We caught a battered local bus at half past seven and it wound its way out of town and in and out of suburban areas giving us a chance to get a glimpse of Mexican life. When we got off, and God knows how Ian knew when it was, we turned onto a wide white dusty dirt track that stretched as far as the eye could see and I was told that we walked to the end and then around the corner and the house was secluded in amongst the trees. The sun was quite high by now and getting hotter. A car came along and was dawdling as it approached. We said that we were walking up the road and would be okay. The lady in the car was in fact the director of the project and gave us a lift. I was so pleased. I enjoyed working with the girls and because we broke into small groups I was determined to remember the names of the girls I was with; I go again on Friday and so time will tell.
Ian and I did a food shop on the way home and then caught a taxi back to the house, it is really hot today. We cleaned the kitchen after lunch and then we packed ourselves off to the Trinidad Hotel where they have a lovely secluded swimming pool. This is a like the old colonial days, the hotel has an ageing charm and I love it. I forgot my swimming costume and had to swim in my knickers and a tee shirt that I happened to have in my back pack. Not the most stylish outfit for this stylish pool. We were the only people there and we lounged about chatting shaded from the sun by huge trees. A plant I have in my sitting room at home is happily winding its way up one of the trees, no wonder I have to keep cutting it back.
I’ve just got back from dancing in the square. A big band played whilst three couples, with numbers on their backs, took to the floor and danced competing against each other. In the interval a young couple took the floor, the girl in the skimpiest of outfits and they showed us how it should really be done. Basically seduce each other. The trio returned and danced some more. It is an elderly competition and once the competition ended we were all invited to take to the floor, Ian and I led the Westerners and the locals showed us how. A local couple split us up and the man showed me how to make those short static steps and twist and turn whilst Ian slogged it out with his wife. We’re going again on Sunday night to the main plaza to try out our moves!

MEXICO 2012

Wendy Knee — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 23:29:19 +0000

MEXICO 2012

Sunday 15th January:
As it was Saturday night the girls in the house had lots of bottles of beer and a large bottle of cheap vodka. We are each responsible for cooking our meals and yesterday after walking around Merida and going in and out of museums and art galleries I went to the supermarket and bought some fruit and vegetables. I was still feeling very tired and could hardly be bothered cooking but knew I’d feel hungry in the night. I chopped and fried an onion, cooked some potatoes and carrots, chopped them and fried them up with the onion added some ground pepper and that was it.
After I had eaten I sat and watched an old black and white film on the television, determined to stay awake until nine o’clock. I am still tired after the long journey. Pia, a German girl came and chatted about her travelling. She is only staying in the house for a short time but has been travelling around the Yukatan for a month. Six girls are in the dorm upstairs and Debbie is in a curtained off room in the main entrance, she has been in Mexico since last July and is going home next week. We also have a Venezuelan man, Theo, in the other makeshift room off the entrance. Ian and I are in the room off the kitchen. There are two bunk beds in our room and I have the lower bunk of one set and the Ian the lower bunk on the other side of the room. I hide behind clothes and a towel draped from the top bunk and Ian is discreet behind a mosquito net he has draped around his bunk. Somehow it works, we have managed to address this unusual sleeping arrangement quite comfortably.
The girls sat outside last night drinking and chatting, I said that I was going to bed. They shouted through the open window outside my bedroom, ‘are we disturbing you Wendy?’ ‘No,’ I assured them but I might as well have invited them in. They said that they would go up to their room and continue. Within minutes I was asleep. I was aware of noise in the kitchen sometime later when Ian returned from the bar but I couldn’t bring myself to wake up.
It’s now 5a.m. and I am wide awake. Yesterday we spent the morning wandering around the town centre, it reminded me of Ecuador where the remains of a wealthy society live on. Little ladies bustling about the shops and markets in crisp white tunic dresses beautifully embroidered at the yoke and the hem. Tall scruffy backpackers stand out amongst the locals. I like being back in a muggy warm place with the familiar smell of rotting debris and spices. I like walking miles along straight roads lined with ageing Spanish houses and derelict cars. We went inside a huge church where the sermon echoed around the cavernous building and little Mexicans stood respectfully murmuring responses. There were fans everywhere to cool the devoted.
We returned to the Italian café where we had had a milky cappuccino earlier, for iced coffee piled high with whipped cream. The nod to the Italians was neither in their coffee nor their pastries but it was pleasant sitting by the open window as Volkswagens raced past spewing out their fumes and the artefacts of Mexican crafts dangled from shop doorways. Colour and noise are everywhere.
I’ve just got back from Progresso on the coast. I went with Ian on the local bus, about forty minutes from Merida. It was lovely to swim in a warm sea; the waves were erratic and came from all directions. We walked along the jetty where people were fishing and pelicans waited for the fish to be brought up on the end of a line!
We are now ordering pizzas for everyone in the house and then Ian and I are going to a free concert in the middle of town, salsa music. It is a cultural society and there are lots of free exhibitions and concerts. On Tuesday there is a big band in one of the squares with dancing – I’ll be there! This morning, Sunday, there were lots of market stalls everywhere run by the Indians, very colourful. There are now seven girls in the dorm that accommodates eight in four double bunk beds; I appreciate the space I have in a shared room with Ian, albeit an unusual arrangement.

2012 HAPPY NEW YEAR

Wendy Knee — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 13:23:20 +0000

I went for a swim this morning. It was dark, wet and windy when I left the house and my body was still warm from my bed. When I arrived at the swimming pool it was 7.30a.m. and there didn’t appear to be anyone in the water. Yes, there were three other people in the water. I swam graciously up and down whilst the woman to my right cut through the water with wide kicking legs and a huge pull. The man to my left fell sideways as he grabbed great mouthfuls of air and reached out towards the end of the pool. I was a child against these two doing a gentle breast stroke. A young girl on the other side of the pool was being schooled and she passed me twice before I reached the other end. I lay on my back and let the cares of the day float away before trying to catch up with my team mates who never let up. I am going away in ten days time and I want to be fit. Usually at this time of day the pool is full of grey haired men and women silently cutting through the water. What has happened to their New Year’s resolutions? Perhaps they don’t start until next week. Don’t delay, whatever you are going to do get on with it. I am 68 this year, time waits for no man. There’s no time like the present.

RONNIE SCOTTS’

Wendy Knee — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 08:17:44 +0000

On saturday I went to Ronnie Scotts in London for a Christmas Jazz Lunch with my ladies saxophone group, Saxation. We caught the 9.06a.m. train to London. The fun started on the train, we were dressed to kill and pushed off with a buck’s fizz, smoked salmon and a lot of laughs. Elevenses was acknowledged with a bottle of prosecco and coffee to quell the fervour. Ronnie’s has changed since I was there in the seventies. My first impression was one of a slick operation and it was a lot ‘posher’. We sipped more prosecco and a magician performed extraordinary tricks with two balls that made Jenny’s eyes grow wider in wonder. The pianist was the incredible James Pearson, bassist Sam Burgess, drummer Pedro Segundo with Alex Garnett on tenor sax. They were joined by singer Natalie Williams who managed to keep control of a lot of impromptu audience participation, ourselves included. A visiting Berlinner sang ‘Santa Baby’ that left us sliding under the table it was so sexy.
Our moment of glory, Jenny and I went up on the stage to participate in the annual contest to find the best ‘bazukker’ player. We announced ourselves, the girls from Saxation, the only sax players improvising this year. We got off to a false start before launching into the worst ever rendition of Frosty The Snowman. Jenny wound her long legs around me and the microphone in an atempt to salvage something in our presentation. Undaunted we continued until Alex pleaded with us to stop. There is a video and photos and what’s more three people approached us afterwards asking where we were playing next, they loved us! All too soon we were back on the train, it was the best day out ever and the best fun with the best bunch of girls I have the good fortune to know and play saxophone with.

BELLE FRANCE

Wendy Knee — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 11:27:14 +0000

I went to Fontainebleau last week to visit a friend of mine who also is a life coach. Eva runs her business from the Life Loft, in the centre of Fontainebleau and on monday morning we started the week with a yoga session. I have never done yoga before. Clad in my stretchy lycra leggings and a loose black tee shirt I sat cross legged on my mat. After a while my knees began to jerk uncontrollably. We then went through the motions of stretching and bending and I think I held my own until the last move which was to stand upside down on your shoulders. I was sweating and unbelievably hot. I must remember to wear cotton in future and a top that doesn’t fall over your head.
My French was acquired at school and came into it’s own when there was an accident on the railway and I was in danger of missing my flight back to England. I teamed up with an Italian lady and between us we managed to persuade a coach driver returning to the airport to give us a lift. As the coach pulled away I understood the meaning of survival and had mixed feelings of selfishness, relief and thanks. I caught my flight.
It’s the season of goodwill – I’d better embrace it. I can still see those people waiting for taxis. I learned that in times of need, in whatever language you can make yourself understood! www.highhealscoaching.com for more information about Eva in Fontainebleau.