Rothwell...

Had an enjoyable day, exploring some of the villages in Leicestershire and Rutland. They’re built of honey-coloured stone, which makes even a row of terraced houses look special. I dusted down my camera and got plenty of shots. Parked up this evening in a big square, in the small town of Rothwell, overlooked by the floodlit parish church…

Women drivers...

It’s hard not to give a muted cheer on learning that, from June next year, women in Saudi Arabia will be allowed to drive. It’s equally hard to account for the fact that this change is taking place in the 21st century… rather than the early years of the 20th. In terms of gender equality, Islamic countries are lagging so far behind.

As Christopher Hitchens said, "The cure for poverty has a name: it's called the empowerment of women. If you give women some control over the rate at which they reproduce, if you give them some say, take them off the animal cycle of reproduction to which nature and some religious doctrines condemn them, and then if you'll throw in a handful of seeds, perhaps some credit, the floor of everything in that village, not just poverty, but education, health, and optimism will increase. It doesn't matter; try it in Bangladesh, try it in Bolivia. It works every time. Name me one religion that stands for that, or ever has”…

Scrappage...

Saleable stock photography is ‘emblematic’: the kind of pic which can slot into an article and make (or amplify) a point in a simple visual way. This shot of an old car in a skip (“we paid £12 for it”, the guy in the showroom said; I’m sure the skip cost more) will hopefully sell when someone searches for ‘car scrappage’.

The sum of £6,000 sounds good, until you notice the qualifier. 'Up to' suggests that other, lower figures may apply to your particular car... going right down to £12 or, indeed, 'fuck all'... 

Atheism...

A few more quotes… about atheism…

“Atheism is not a philosophy; it is not even a view of the world; it is simply an admission of the obvious” (Sam Harris).

“We are all atheists about most of the gods that humanity has ever believed in. Some of us just go one god further” (Richard Dawkins).

“Jews, Chrstians and Muslims claim that their scriptures are so prescient of humanity’s needs that they could only have been written under the direction of an omniscient deity. An atheist is simply a person who has considered this claim, read the books and found the claim to be ridiculous” (Sam Harris).

“The only position that leaves me with no cognitive dissonance is atheism. It is not a creed. Death is certain, replacing both the siren-song of Paradise and the dread of Hell. Life on this earth, with all its mystery and beauty and pain, is then to be lived far more intensely: we stumble and get up, we are sad, confident, insecure, feel loneliness and joy and love. There is nothing more; but I want nothing more” (Ayaan Hirsi Ali).

“I see Atheists are fighting and killing each other again, over who doesn't believe in any God the most. Oh, no..wait.. that never happens” (Ricky Gervais)…

Science...

Science has long been in conflict with religion, certainly since Galileo discovered that the earth revolves around the sun (and not the other way round). A few more quotes…

“The core of science is not controlled experiment or mathematical modelling; it is intellectual honesty” (Sam Harris).

“The good thing about science is that it’s true whether or not you believe in it” (Neil deGrasse Tyson).

“There is a fundamental difference between religion, which is based on authority; and science, which is based on observation and reason. Science will win because it works” (Stephen Hawking).

“It’s okay to reserve judgement until the evidence is in” (Carl Sagan).

“I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason and intellect has intended us to forego their use” (Galileo).

“Religion is to science as superstition is to reason” (Jerry A Coyne).

“Even if the open windows of science at first make us shiver after the cosy indoor warmth of traditional humanising myths, in the end the fresh air brings vigour, and the great spaces have a slendour of their own” (Bertrand Russell).

“When the evidence disagrees with the scientific proposition, the proposition is discarded. When the evidence disagrees with a religious proposition, the evidence is discarded” (Victor Stenger)…

Beer with breakfast...

It's a familiar start to a nomad's day: emailing a magazine article while I enjoy a Wetherspoons breakfast. People around me are ordering pints of beer with their breakfast, while the barmaid refrains from asking "Is that wise?"

Some quotes by skeptics and atheists are played for laughs; that doesn’t necessarily make then any less perceptive…

“Heaven, as conventionally conceived, is a place so inane, so dull, so useless, so miserable, that no one has ever ventured to describe a whole day in heaven, though plenty of people have described a day at the seaside” (George Bernard Shaw, Man and Superman).

“It is the test of a good religion whether you can joke about it” (G K Chesterton). Islam fails the test, I think.

“The proper response to religious folly is not outrage but amused contempt” (S T Joshi, in the Introduction to H L Mencken’s book, On Religion).

“Ridicule is the only weapon which can be used against unintelligible propositions” (Thomas Jefferson).

“It’s easier to fool people than to convince them they have been fooled” (Mark Twain).

“Tell people there’s an invisible man in the sky who created the universe, and the vast majority will believe you. Tell them the paint is wet, and they have to touch it to be sure” (George Carlin).

“We must respect the other fellow's religion, but only in the sense and to the extent that we respect his theory that his wife is beautiful and his children smart” (H L Mencken)…

Keeping order...

Many commentators have noticed how the powerful make use of religion to keep the riff-raff in their place. More quotes…

"Religion is regarded by the common people as true, by the wise as false, and by the rulers as useful” (Seneca).

“Since the masses of the people are inconstant, full of unruly desires, passionate, and reckless of consequences, they must be filled with fears to keep them in order. The ancients did well, therefore, to invent gods, and the belief in punishment after death” (Polybius).

“Religion is excellent stuff for keeping common people quiet. Religion is what keeps the poor from murdering the rich” (Napoleon).

“I think it is very beautiful for the poor to accept their lot, to share it with the passion of Christ” (Mother Theresa)…

Belief...

A few more quotes… about the way that religious faith can persuade people to be their less charitable selves…

“Religion is an insult to human dignity. With or without it you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion” (Steven Weinberg).

“Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities” (Voltaire).

“Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction” (Blaise Pascal).

“Cruel men believe in a cruel God and use their belief to excuse their cruelty. Only kindly men believe in a kindly God, and they would be kindly in any case” (Bertrand Russell)…

All you can eat...

Had an evening out with Helen in Halifax, and tried out a local, ‘buffet style’ curry house. No need to read a menu, or catch the waiter’s eye, or make an order, or decide how many popadums to have. We just took a plate into an adjacent room and helped ourselves from a range of tureens: curries from hot to mild, rice, chips, bhajis, samosas, salad, etc. We finished off with ice cream. All very tasty and - at £11 for all you could eat - good value. I’ll be back…

Faith...

While writing my book on belief, I’m aware that much of the ground is already well-trodden. Some writers - with Christopher Hitchens to the fore - have summed up a point so compellingly, and with such brevity, that it seems sensible just to quote their words (with attributions, of course). Here are a few favourites, on faith…

“What can be asserted without evidence can be dismissed without evidence” (Christopher Hitchens).

“Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence” (Carl Sagan)

“Faith is believing what you know ain’t so” (Mark Twain).

“In religion faith is a virtue; in science it’s a vice” (Jerry Coyne)

“Reason is the greatest enemy that faith has” (Martin Luther)…

“Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Paul, Hebrews 11:1).

“Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (Jesus to Doubting Thomas, John 22, 29)…

Harold Wilson in a hurry, Huddersfield...

Laundry...

When I’ve changed my clothes half a dozen times, I have to find a laundrette. Having got a service wash in Otley, I returned this morning to pick up a plastic bag full of clean, carefully folded washing, and paid less than if I’d sat in a laundrette for an hour, watching my clothes spin round and round. The Otley laundrette will be added to an informal list of amenities which are useful to a nomad. The list includes leisure centres where they spurn my offer to pay, and let me have a shower for free, and my favourite campsite in the Yorkshire Dales, where I’m staying this evening…

Being alone...

This quote from Krishnamurti arrived in my inbox this morning...

"You see, you are not educated to be alone. Do you ever go out for a walk by yourself? It is very important to go out alone, to sit under a tree—not with a book, not with a companion, but by yourself—and observe the falling of a leaf, hear the lapping of the water, the fishermen’s song, watch the flight of a bird, and of your own thoughts as they chase each other across the space of your mind. If you are able to be alone and watch these things, then you will discover extraordinary riches which no government can tax, no human agency can corrupt, and which can never be destroyed"...

Trying not to drop Oliver, the latest addition to the Redhead clan...

Battered Mars bar...

A staple of Scottish chip shops... now available in West Yorkshire...

Brighouse...

Kipped in Brighouse last night, where a signpost directs visitors to to the town’s most interesting attractions. There are just two: the bus station and train station, both ways of getting out of Brighouse…

Hartley Wintney...

Spent a few days with sister Kari, as she approaches the halfway point of her chemotherapy regime. Leaving this morning, now that I've run through my repertoire of recipes, and heading north.

I enjoyed this description of Henry Blofeld, in the Guardian today: “the kind of Englishman you’d concoct in your head if all you had to work with was the collected works of PG Wodehouse”...

Henry Blofeld...

I’ve just listened to Henry Blofeld’s last commentary stint, as England wrapped up the Lords test match within three days. To the other commentators, pundits and members of the Twitterati, he’s “the guvnor”, apparently, but I can’t say I was a big fan. With his wearisome catchphrase “my dear old thing”, his bow-ties and his pathological need to point out buses, cranes and pigeons, he was a bit too mannered for my taste. 

For me, the doyen of cricket commentators was John Arlott. He didn’t make a fuss about retiring. In 1980, at the end of his time behind the microphone, he described the last ball of an over, said “After Trevor Bailey it will be Christopher Martin-Jenkins”, and was gone… back to Alderney, and his wine cellar, and into retirement.

As for Geoffrey Boycott, I can’t listen to him any more…

Blighty...

I looked at the rain, and I looked at the weather forecast: more rain. Then I went online and booked a ferry ticket. I drove east, back to Rosslare, and got a late ferry. Not as late as last time; I was driving into Pembroke Dock just after midnight. This morning I drove through Wales, without stopping, and now I’m back in Blighty. Still raining, though…

Kilrush...

There are very few reasons why a young woman of twenty would be talking to an old guy like me, so I was naturally suspicious when she hailed me from across the road, in a little town called Kilrush. I’ll call her Clare, because I’m in Co Clare. But she talked about me, not herself: where was I from, what was I doing, what did I think about Ireland, etc. I told her I was travelling in a campervan, so we talked about that. I eventually turned the conversation round to her, as she sat down on a doorstep. She’d been over in England; Birmingham, she said, but hadn’t liked it. Now she was back in Ireland. She had family in a nearby town, just seven miles up the road, but, for whatever reason, didn’t want to contact them. I wondered if she was staying with friends. No, she said, and mentioned the Catholic church just round the corner. I assumed she meant she was sleeping inside church property. But no, she was sleeping outside. After a few more minutes talking, I gave her ten euros and walked back to the van.

I spent the night in Kilkee, on the coast, hearing the rain drumming on the roof of the van, debating with myself whether I could have done more to help Clare. The answer seemed pretty obvious, so this morning I drove back to Kilrush to see if I could find her. I wandered the streets for three hours in the usual drizzle, before bumping into her, and a female friend, in the main square in town. We went to a little café round the corner for breakfast. Apparently they had slept behind the grotto next to the church, where a statue of the Virgin Mary gazes down from her niche in the wall. That can’t have been much fun in the rain. However, the good news was that they’d found a hostel in another town, not too far away, which could offer them a room. With a fixed address they would now be able to start claiming the jobseeker’s allowance and look for work.

“Are you Protestant or Catholic?”, Clare asked: a question that doesn’t invite a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer. “Neither”, I said, but that conversation would have to wait, as the bus was about to leave. I gave them money for the bus and food, and said goodbye. I hope things work out for them both…

Lost...

The welcome in Ireland has been consistently warm, sometimes effusive. But one thing has surprised me: the height barriers at the entrance to all municipal car parks, which seem designed specificaly to exclude me and other motorhome owners. Not so, insisted a man I talked to yesterday; according to him the barriers are to keep out the travellers.

After three years the satnav lady and I get along pretty well. Except for yesterday. I spent half the morning ‘exploring’ narrow roads, with grass growing up the middle, while the satnav lady kept suggesting even narrower alternatives. She was lost, but she wouldn’t admit it. Without villages or signs I’d entirely lost my bearings too - almost doing a full circle to arrive back where I started from…

Clancy's Bar...

Enjoyed a musical evening in Miltown Malbay (which sounds like a character from one of my little books). I started out in a bar, sitting next to an old guy (old? I found out he was just a year older than me!) who was up for a chat. After a few minutes he reached for his penny whistle, which was artfully concealed inside the Guinness dispenser on the bar, and played a couple of tunes for an appreciative audience of one.

I moved a couple of doors down the street, to Clancy’s bar, where there was a bit of a session: three fiddlers, a woman on a squeezebox, a guy playing the penny whistle and a young lad trying to find his way round the fretboard of a banjo. They’re really only playing one tune, but what a tune! The circle of life… in musical notation…

Walter Becker...

So sad to hear that Walter Becker has died. I loved Steely Dan from their first album, Can’t Buy a Thrill. Their music had a cynical edge - no songs about puppy love - and obscure literary references (they picked up the band’s name from a dildo mentioned in William Borroughs’ Naked Lunch). Joy once bought me an album, and so nearly got it right; unfortunately it was Steeleye Span.

I stayed on board as Steely Dan’s music got jazzier, more complex and enigmatic. After peaking with Aja and Gaucho, the band split. Everyone thought that Donald Fagen was the band’s creative force, but Becker put out some fine solo albums too. Book of Liars would be one of my desert island discs…

In a village of small, unpretentious cottages, this stood out like the proverbial sore thumb...

Shannon...

The swifts are gone, the martins too, and the swallows - always the last - are gathering on the telephone wires. The weather is more like November than September. I haven’t seen many birds in Ireland, but, then I haven’t been looking very hard.

Spent last night parked up in a little town called Glin, on the Shannon Estuary, ready to take the ferry…

Local delicacies...

After two days in a campsite I feel a bit 'stir crazy'. But I've managed to edit, upload and keyword a big backlog of pix. They can't make any £££ if they're not on sale. And the moment I finish, the rain starts again.

Even if some of the Irish brand names are familiar, they’re not always what they seem. Harpic, for example, is an intimate deodorant, while Mr Kipling makes (exceedingly good) cough linctus. Let the buyer beware. I eat local produce whenever I can, so gave these crisps a try. Shamrock tastes good. Who knew?…

Killarney...

The sun came out - finally - and I've got some pix. Saleable... but nothing special. I'm now in a campsite just outside Killarney: editing new pix and keywording a backlog of pix so they can go on sale...

Staigue Fort, a rather splendid circular building, dating to the early years AD...