Need to correct a recent post

The riverbed in Valencia, the one that’s dry, is now called the Gardens of Turia, Turia being the river’s name. It has been diverted to the south of the city in a specially made canal and the great flood that brought this about happened only in 1957 not 1907. Besides the playing fields we saw there are actual gardens, and at the other end from where we’re staying the Science Museum, the something else museum and the Aquarium (about which more later) are all built on the former river.

Keeping in contact

This morning we did a fun thing. For some years Celia has checked out the webcam overlooking the Sheringham Station Car Park whenever she was feeling a bit homesick. Now, of course, the car park is only a few miles away.
So a couple of days ago we arranged that the kids should check out the internet at 8.30 pm NZ time, and we would be in the car park waving at the webcam at 9.30 am our time. As it happened only one of the kids turned out to be on the computer when we were there - as far as we know - and so we also rang her on Skype. This meant we were standing by the roadside railings, leaning the laptop on them with the mobile connect device hanging out of a USB socket, and the skype headphones trailing between it and the various persons wearing them (my sister-in-law came with us), talking to someone on the other side of the world while she watched our movements at 30 second intervals. Totally daft, but something that gave us a curious connection.
And we learned that England isn’t the only place suffering floods. Apparently Dunedin has just had another bout of them too.

Photo from the Otago Daily Times, Dunedin

Church services

Church this morning at the Baptists, the place where Celia used to go as a child. It was already up and running when we arrived, with an older guy leading the singing, which was buzzing along. He sat down around the time they were due to start, and someone else took over. The service went along well, with lots of good singing interspersed with notices and comments about a group from the church who’d gone to Calcutta and were working with children there for a time. There were prayers for older people in the church including one who’d fallen and another who’d had a stroke, and we were feeling good about the place. And then a younger girl led some more worship and wound up with one or two of those very uninspiring songs that have no melody and words strung together from a concordance. This rather dulled the mood, and then the guy who’d talked about the people in Calcutta got up again and began to preach. He turned out to be the pastor of the place, and sadly, he gave a very downbeat and rather longwinded message. It was about Gideon ostensibly, but brought in depression and lack of faith, and feeling a waste of space, and various other similar things, and then got repetitive and got Gideon confused with Joshua and in general sounded unprepared. It was like one of those Pentecostal messages that used to turn up when we were at the Assembly of God and which sounded as though they were made up on the spot. Usually the Holy Spirit got the credit for the words, but unfortunately He was probably off doing something else at the time.
So we came away feeling less positive about the place than we’d started. And there was no one still in the church who’d been in the place when Celia was there. She did find one older couple who remembered some of the people she knew, but that wasn’t quite so satisfactory as actually being remembered.
Tonight we went to the Sheringham Carnival Combined Church Service on the beach front. There were quite a lot of people there, and the Sally Army band came in with a whiz and a bang and got things moving. Good singing, and a great band. Even three SA women doing a timbrel thing - kind of dancing on the spot and waving and banging the instrument around in synchronisation. They were very good: did it all with an ease and confidence that was delightful. And then, I’m afraid, our friend from the morning turned out to be the preacher again. Oh, dear. Down went the mood of the service with a thud as he moved from the real floods in England to Noah’s Flood to a Flood of Rebellion that was flooding across England. No mention of the people getting together to celebrate, no joy in the wondrous sea throbbing alongside us, no excitement about the people of God actually still functioning, and functioning confidently in the country. Nope, only doom and gloom. Some people just don’t know the right thing to say at a time of celebration. Maybe the guy’s in the Jeremiah mould and finds it hard to uplift.
On the other hand, we went for a long walk along the front and into the lifeboat museum this afternoon. Now that was good.

Some of the news is bad

I would hesitate to say to the English, ‘get over it’ in regard to rain, though I might say it to some who complain loudly when they've only had thunderstorms and some short heavy downpours.

To those who live in the middle of the country where the floods have been horrendous, I extend my deepest sympathy. I know from NZ news of floods that it takes months and sometimes years to get over the effects of floods. Unless you’re actually affected by it, you think it’s a two-day wonder.

We’ve been immensely fortunate with the weather really – ‘we’ being the Crowls. Sure we’ve had rain, and some massive thunderstorms, but overall since we’ve been here it’s been lovely. Only one day has been cold that I can recall, and the weather’s been fine enough in general for me to wear sandles almost since I got here. And short sleeved shirts. This is almost unheard of.

The photo is of a woman trying to get to work in Knightsbridge, London (yup, London).