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Ten Years On

It was late August, 1997. The Italian Lakes beckoned. The vacation was booked months in advance. Two weeks at a resort on the banks of Lake Garda, in northern Italy. By road, it was a two day journey from Britain. A drive to Dover, on the south coast. Then across the English Channel on the ferry to Calais, France, and on via Paris to the Swiss border, the Mont Blanc tunnel, and eventually the French/Italian Alps before a run down to the one of the most beautiful places on earth – Lake Garda.

I’d driven through Paris before – and since. It was about 2.30pm, on August 30th, 1997 that I steered my two-seater Toyota MR2 down through the Pont de l’Alma underpass in Paris before settling down for the long run to our overnight stop near the German/Swiss border.

I slept well that night. The long drive, though stimulating in a sports car designed for continental autoroutes, was still tiring and my dreamless sleep held no presentiment of the drama unfolding in that very same Pont de l’Alma underpass I had traversed only hours before.

It was after 5.00pm when we eventually reached our destination next day. Checking in to the accommodation took time, so it was after six when we finally parked up and began unloading our luggage into the luxury trailer rented for the vacation.

I was lugging the last of the baggage from the trunk when a young German man with only broken English and a sense of acute embarrassment, walked slowly over from the trailer next door.

“You ees Eenglish, yes?”

I nodded, a little suspiciously.

“We, that ees, mein frau…..eh, my wife an’ me…..we so sorry, ’bout your Diana.”

I looked vacant, “Diana?”

“You does not know?”

I shook my head, perplexed.

The young German man seemed most uncomfortable.“Your princess……Diana? She dead. Killed. It was car accident, yesterday. In Paris.”

I muttered something resembling “thanks”, went inside and began tuning the radio to find an English language station.

Little more than twenty-four hours before, the Pont de l’Alma underpass had seemed so benign……so, very ordinary………

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Who?

Remember Condoleeza Rice? She was once, ed I believe, and Secretary of State. Nothing has been heard of her for sometime. Has she retired? Taken up gardening, perhaps? Anyone with any news as to her whereabouts, please contact………

Maybe she just went, and left no forwarding address?

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Simply The Best

Every day, throughout the world, ordinary working people suffer the lies, deceit, false promises, fabricated endearments, and trip-off-the-tongue falsehoods of those we elect to run things on our behalf.

Only today, George W Bush, accompanied by Ben Shalom Bernanki – the latest spin-doctor to hold top position in American financial affairs – set out his new doctrine to “help those poor people caught up in the prime mortgage scandal” to keep their homes. As usual, Bush’s concern for the suddenly homeless is no more genuine than the tears he shed over New Orleans after Katrina. The speech was delivered to serve one purpose – steady the markets and prevent another financial plunge.

In contrast, the British Royal, Prince Harry, speaking at his mother’s remembrance service in London today, ten years on from her tragic death in a car accident, said:

“Quite simply, she was the best mother in the world. But then, we would say that, wouldn’t we?”

A refreshing moment of honesty and openness, from a young man not afraid to sniff back tears in front of the whole world.

Oh, that our politicians were so forthright and unashamedly honest.

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