A Quiet Christmas

First of all may I wish all my readers a Happy Christmas, and in particular hope that you can keep warm and actually afford Christmas. It may seem strange to have to say such things after we have gone through three centuries of massive improvements in our standard of living to find that in the midst of truly amazing wealth and abundance that life is rapidly heading back to the dark ages, not due to any natural disasters, or any particular failure in the science that runs our civilisations, but due to either crass stupidity or evil intent.

We have a current situation where a few people are seeking to grab incredible wealth for themselves by controlling the resources that power civilisation, namely energy. Without fossil fuels and/or nuclear power our modern world simply collapses, and that is what is happening across the world right now.

I have just been watching snow storms in North America. I assume similar sights are to be seen across  Northern Europe. I am lucky to say that I am sitting on a balcony overlooking woodland, with a snatch of blue sea. The sun is shining and I am in shirt sleeves with a cold drink at my elbow. Yesterday evening I was in shorts watching the sun go down over the fishermen’s enclave at the western end of the beach.  I’m currently ok, but for how long before I go down with the rest of the ships? But the real question has to be, how much longer does this farce have to continue before we can rescue our world?

About nine months ago I spent several evenings ranging through a whole bookshelf of photographic albums. I was interested to know just how true were the stories about global warming, and the rising of sea levels, especially as the most famous instigator of the global warming nonsense had bought himself a massive beach-front mansion. If there really was a problem with rising sea levels, why spend millions on a massive house with the sea just inches from your front door?

I was born on the sea, on a yacht in the West Indies. We still have photographs of the island. I was there again only six years ago. In the photographs high tide is exactly where it used to be all those decades ago.

I spent the summer of my eighteenth year living on a small boat at Chelsea Reach in London. It took some getting used to. Initially I fell out of bed when the tide went out as the boat keeled over as the water level went down. Three years ago I investigated the area. Sea level is just the same.

I first visited Lagos in the Algarve, just down the road from me in the summer of 1969. I note that high water mark is exactly the same now as it was over fifty years ago.

Finally, high water mark reaches to end of my garden. I was amused to note the variations in the water levels as the tide came in and then went out again. I can do that quite easily as there is a bridge over the tidal stream. Over the course of 25 years there has been no increase in sea level whatsoever.

We are indeed in what is called an interglacial. We should expect the globe to warm up. We are still coming out of an ice age, and we have further to go. It’s natural. I have said many times before, during the last interglacial, long before humans affected the world in any meaningful way, lions and tigers roamed across southern England. Life was even warmer during the time of Chaucer, when vineyards were common in Lincolnshire. I think there is one in that county now, and Lincolnshire has not been noted for its warmth. I used to live right on the Lincoln Edge. Quite literally. Our garden dropped steeply down to the railway line. Another photograph from our albums shows a double-decker bus stranded on the Sleaford road. You can only see the top few feet sticking out of the snow.

But what is happening to our world as a result of all this disgraceful lying about sea-levels, and temperature change? I think temperatures have risen 0.7 degrees during my lifetime, which doesn’t surprise me as I was born during the coldest part of the last century. It really does depend where you start counting.

But how is all this affecting life around me? The last time I spent Christmas in Spain was six or seven years ago. Yesterday I returned to an area I quite like, Isla Cristina. When I was last here at Christmas the place was buzzing. Yesterday I had decided to have lunch in a beach cafe. I’m rather fond of barbecued red mullet. Unfortunately, I found Isla Cristina was strangely silent. The hotels were gated, the streets were empty. There was the occasional parked car. The sidewalks were empty, and everywhere was eerily silent.

Where is everyone? Is it really true that people cant afford Christmas this year?

I came back and tried Isla Canela. That too was empty except for two bars. They face a wide sandy beach which was empty except for one young mum and toddler. The bar I patronised had half a dozen customers. None of them were eating. One lady nursed one drink for the whole time I was there. The group behind me had drinks and then left. Oh dear, how things have changed. But the red mullet was jolly good.