After all my interest and getting excited about getting back to blogging, it all goes pear shaped!
Catching up with church paperwork, grants and meetings. Kids camp. Short holiday with its joys and disasters. Church life. Bit of gardening. Days out as Dave is constantly demanding, all done on time consuming public transport and our bumpy village bus. And a constant, deeply permanent exhaustion that I can’t shrug off.
When I get told of new church promotions, inside I just groan, oh no, please no more, I can’t do it, but there are so few other workers.
Each week I hope will dawn calmer. Still, God is taking me through various things, he’s using all this to reveal and teach. I haven’t been able to write, I think he knew of all this coming, and lightened the load.
Dave and I met at Marwell in 1981, and we’ve been back again several times over the years. I also visited it when it opened in the 1970s under the leadership of conservationist John Knowles. Of course, over the years there’s been changes; the world has changed. But Marwell started with the goal of raising animals that could then be reintroduced to the wild. It started with the Scimitar Horned Oryx and Siberian tigers (now Amur tigers).
Over the years of our visits, we’ve seen many changes, and that’s natural, but our visit last week had us gobsmacked. Only one tiger (we could see), one snow leopard, all the other big cats gone. Four Scimitar horned Oryx, and four Grevy Zebra, (piccie above) down from the large breeding herds that were the symbol of the zoo. The majority of the antelope and deer have gone. Ok, the rhinos looked fine and there were as many Bactrian camels. The Przewalski’s horse herd was much smaller. Overall, Id say the mix of animals has halved, and I’d guess the herd numbers too.
What had increased? The loos, cafes, kid’s entertainments. It’s like it’s turning into a children’s theme park, not a zoo. Yes, they have to get families in through the gate for the money, and it was filled after August Bank Holiday. But I feel John Knowles is turning in his grave. I understand the new director used to run a shopping centre, and it shows.
We chatted to a keeper, who I think actually was a volunteer, and bored her rigid with our anecdotes, and there seemed to be many young staff around (slave labour like when we were there!). We even chatted briefly to the vet, who said that blue tongue has affected the growth of the zoo animal population. So they now have a full-time vet on board for so few animals? There was far less information about the animals on the enclosures too, so they would have people looking at the zoo app rather than the animals? The only good idea has been to move the entrance so the public can go to the shop and cafe without visiting the zoo.
The worst bit? On the far side of the zoo, which was known as the East section, the original houses and hardstandings were still there, with all but one empty. In fact, there were empty houses all over the zoo, and ones that had been landscaped, but we knew where they had been. The public were almost directed away from it to the Tropical House, which was good. Then, in the middle of it all, a brand new garden on the old coati mundi enclosure planted with flowers that need water, not ones that can stand drought, as there was plumbing under them to keep them watered. What a colossal waste of money and resources.
Dave and I left sadly but not before asking someone to take a photo of where we first saw each other, at what used to be the eland house. Yes, of course things changed, and it’s over 40 years since we were there. And we did read of a few animals that have recently been re-introduced to the wild. It seemed there had been major investment in new housing when we visited eight years ago, but precious little since. But I’d say Marwell at its heart is no longer a zoo that helps animal populations, and I’d have thought this would be a key factor in the present panic stricken era. To me, it’s rapidly becoming a second-rate children’s theme park. I think I have said goodbye to a place that can only now be a precious memory.
Totally exhausted, but what a trip. Lost count of the kids, can’t put photos on here.
In five days we packed in visiting a reservoir, trampolining underground, raft building, gorge walking, play parks, seaside and beach, games, camp services, barbecue, water fight, hours in the bus, but what scenery. North Wales reminded me of parts of the Lungau where we lived, but no chances to go walking.
Dave and I will have to visit next year. And the sun shone until the very last day.
For the past two years I’ve been part of our church kid’s camp, which has been near Chester. This year we’re off to north Wales in Snowdonia. Lots of outings, fun, Barmouth beach day, farm day, lack of sleep, tiredness, great food and daily devotions that hopefully will lay a Christian basis that the kids will take on in life.
And maybe, like last year, we’ll have commitments and people getting to know Jesus!
So there will be short, sharp posts this week on my latest adventure. Dave will be dog minding, feeding the fish and wild birds and having total control of the remote.
It seems that the Welsh valleys have bred a generation of firestarters, as all around fires were lit beyond it being just due to the dry conditions. Some kids have been caught, but I except they won’t get much more than a naughty, naughty telling off. And there’s a history of it too when I talk to people who have always lived here.
On the media and various apps, the hotspot in the UK is here, really, you see a big red fire blotch.
We’ve now had a little rain, which at least has got rid of the pall of smoke that has lain all around in the mornings when there is no wind. Even quiet walk with Swingle brings a nasty taste to the nose and mouth.
Yet, before the gentle rain arrived, despite all the doom and gloom on the media about the destruction of habitats, nature that God created is more resilient than we could ever imagine.
It seems there is fire all around us, we had one at the top of the hill as I posted. Since then, they’ve been to the west and south of us, huge fires, and many of them started and restarted deliberately. Our valley has been filled with smoke on several occasions and we’ve all coughed and Dave has wheezed.
I even caught some kids lighting one the the community field down the track. I was was polite to them and three ran away and the one who I caught blamed the others. A friend went over after me with a watering can to make sure it was out. Last night three fire engines went up the road. This afternoon, I saw another plume with a black funnel of smoke in it. The wind’s in the other direction, but I guess it’s less than a mile away.
Now I wonder, if I had to evacuate my house, what would I take with me. I’ve got as far as both laptops, one is the photographic archive, our wallet of personal documents and my favourite books which I would have ready in a box.
