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42.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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ZOOS
People began to keep animals in zoos over 3,000 years ago, when the rulers of China opened an enormous zoo called the Gardens of Intelligence. In many of the early zoos, animals were taught to perform for the visitors. This no longer happens and it is accepted that the purpose of zoos is for people to see animals behaving naturally.
Today, most cities have a zoo or wildlife park. However, not everybody approves of zoos. People who think that zoos are a good idea say they provide us with the opportunity to learn about the natural world and be close to wild animals. Both of these would not be possible without zoos. On the other hand, some people disapprove of zoos because they believe it is wrong to put animals in cages, and argue that in zoos which are not managed properly, animals live in dirty conditions and eat unsuitable food.
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43.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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The Albuquerque Balloon Festival
Every autumn, the sky above the desert city of Albuquerque in the south-western United States turns into a mass of bright colours. This is the Albuquerque Balloon festival, an annual nine-day event.
The first festival was held in 1972 to celebrate the 50th birthday of the local radio station. There were about a dozen hot-air balloons and they took off from the car park in the middle of Albuquerque. From these small beginnings, the festival has grown steadily. This year at least a thousand balloons from over one third of the countries of the world are expected at its current out-of-town site.
What to see
The pilots are in radio contact with each other and all light up the burners of their balloons at the same time. These are known as 'balloon glows' and are an opportunity to take fantastic photographs. However, you must arrive just after night has fallen or before 5.30 am to see these 'glows' as the balloons rise into the dark sky.
During the day, you can walk around among the balloons and chat to the pilots as they prepare for take-off. The balloons come in all sizes and colours, some in the shapes of animals or cartoon characters and, of course, well-known products such as varieties of soft drinks and fast food. Kids will love it.
In the afternoon, why not take to the sky yourself by arranging a balloon flight over the desert with one of the many companies offering balloon rides? Another possibility is to take the cable car from the desert floor to the top of the nearby mountains, the longest such ride anywhere, and enjoy a bird's-eye view of the festival. There are plenty of other attractions for visitors of all ages, including balloon races and firework displays on the opening evening and the last three evenings of the festival.
The Albuquerque Box
This is a local wind pattern that creates perfect conditions for balloonists. The Sandia Mountains protect the balloons from strong winds, and at the same time create gentler currents of wind at different heights. This means that by rising or descending, skilful pilots can control the direction of their balloons.
Practical advice
Buy your tickets in advance (they are available on line) and save yourself a long wait to get into the festival site. Wear several layers of thin clothing. At night and in the early morning it can be quite cool, but during the day sunglasses and suncream are essential. Bring a flashlight for night-time events and, of course, bring your camera. If you're not a digital photographer, you'll need high-speed film for evening and night-time pictures.
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44.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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The Young Achiever of the Year
Kal Kaur Rai has always been interested in fashion and has just won the title of Young Achiever of the Year at the Asian Business Awards. Ever since she was a child, she has drawn clothes and designed patterns. She never told her hard-working parents, who own a supermarket, that she wanted to turn her hobby into a career. She thought they expected her to go into a more established business, so she went to university to do a management degree.
After university, she moved to London and worked in an advertising agency. She had to attend industry events but couldn't afford the designer clothes she liked. She started making skirts and tops for herself. When her friends saw her clothes, they asked her to make things for them. She then found a small shop in London willing to take her designs on a sale-or- return basis. They were very popular and nothing came back. This encouraged her to leave her advertising job, take out a PS20,000 loan and begin her own womenswear label.
Kal's parents were not angry about her career change and said they would support her, which really pleased her. Her clothes are now on sale in over 70 stores and her business has an income of over PS500,000. Her clothes appear in fashion magazines, she designs for pop stars and she has just gained public recognition by winning this award. Her business has come a long way and she knows she is extremely lucky. 'What I do is my hobby - and I get paid for it! But remember, I've worked hard for this.'
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45.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Sweden's Ice Hotel
The village of Jukkasjarvi is in Swedish Lapland, and winter temperatures there can reach -40deg C. But 6,000 holidaymakers still go there annually, to visit what is probably Europe's most unusual accommodation.
In this hotel you eat, drink, and sleep in rooms made of ice. If you want, you can even get married in one. The bar is ice too, and putting hot drinks on it is obviously not recommended! The bedrooms are around -4deg C, but fortunately guests are provided with special sleeping bags that will keep them warm in the coldest of temperatures. Suitable outdoor clothes can be supplied too, if needed.
The hotel is never more than six months old because it melts in summer, and each winter it is rebuilt. Creating the hotel takes 10,000 tonnes of ice, plus 30,000 tonnes of snow.
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46.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Write a winning story!
You could win PS1,000 in this year's Fiction Prize and have your story printed in Keep Writing magazine. Ten other lucky people will win a cheque forPS100.
Once again, we need people who can write good stories. The judges, who include Mary Littlejohn, the novelist, Michael Brown, the television reporter, and Susan Hitchins, Keep Writing's editor, are looking for interesting and original stories. Detective fiction was extremely popular last year, although the competition winner produced a love story. You can write about whatever you want but here's some advice to start you thinking:
Write about what you know
This is the advice which every writer should pay attention to and, last year, nearly everyone who wrote for us did exactly that. Love, family, problems with friends - these were the main subjects of the stories. However, you need to turn ordinary situations into something interesting that people will want to read about. Make the reader want to continue reading by writing about ordinary things in a new and surprising way.
Get your facts right
It's no good giving a description of a town or explaining how a jet engine works if you get it wrong. So avoid writing anything unless you're certain about it.
Hold the reader's attention
Make the beginning interesting and the ending a surprise. There is nothing worse than a poor ending. Develop the story carefully and try to think of something unusual happening at the end.
Think about the characters
Try to bring the people in your story alive for the reader by using well-chosen words to make them seem real.
Your story must be your own work, between 2,000 and 2,500 words and typed, double-spaced, on one side only of each sheet of paper.
Even if you're in danger of missing the closing date, we are unable to accept stories by fax or email. You must include the application form with your story. Unfortunately your story cannot be returned, nor can we discuss our decisions.
You should not have had any fiction printed in any magazine or book in this country - a change in the rules by popular request- and the story must not have appeared in print or in recorded form, for example on radio or TV, anywhere in the world.
Your fee of PS5 will go to the Writers' Association. Make your cheque payable to Keep Writing and send it with the application form and your story to:
The closing date is 30 July and we will inform the winner within one month of this date. Please note that if you win, you must agree to have your story printed in our magazine.
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47.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Being an older student
At 32, I have just finished my first year at university. As well as attending lectures regularly, I have had to learn to read books quickly and write long essays.
I decided to go to university after fourteen years away from the classroom. As a secretary, although I was earning a reasonable amount of money, I was bored doing something where I hardly had to think. I became more and more depressed by the idea that I was stuck in the job. I was jealous of the students at the local university, who looked happy, carefree and full of hope, and part of something that I wanted to explore further.
However, now that I've actually become a student I find it hard to mix with younger colleagues. They are always mistaking me for a lecturer and asking me questions I can't answer. I also feel separated from the lecturers because, although we are the same age, I know so much less than them. But I am glad of this opportunity to study because I know you need a qualification to get a rewarding job, which is really important to me. Unlike most eighteen-year-olds, I much prefer a weekend with my books to one out partying. Then there are the normal student benefits of long holidays and theatre and cinema discounts. I often have doubts about what I'll do after university, but I hope that continuing my education at this late date has been a wise choice.
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48.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Henry Ford
Henry Ford was born on a farm in Michigan in 1863 but he did not like farming. When he was fifteen he began work as a mechanic and in 1893 he built his first car. After he had driven it 1,500 kilometres, he sold it and built two bigger cars. Then, in 1903, he started the Ford Motor Company. By using strong but light steel, he built cheap cars for ordinary people to buy. In 1908, he built the first Ford Model 'T', which sold for $825. He was soon selling 100 cars a day. By 1927, the Ford Motor Company was worth $700 million. Early Ford cars were simple and cheap, but keeping things simple sometimes meant less choice. 'You can have any colour you like,' said Henry Ford of the Model T,'as long as it's black.'
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49.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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The Ghan Train
Mark Ottaway travelled by train from Darwin, in the north of Australia, to Adelaide, in the south.
The Ghan train crosses the Australian continent, from the warm northern coast through seemingly endless desert to the colder Southern Ocean. It is often called the 'famous Ghan', which is perhaps unfortunate since it is known, above all, for being late.
The dream of a rail link between Darwin and Adelaide was partly achieved in the 1920s with a line from Adelaide as far as Alice Springs, but there was often serious flooding on the line making it difficult for trains to pass. A new line was completed a few months before my journey.
The railway was built for speeds of up to 115 kph and the Ghan is certainly not a high- speed, inter-city train - there are few stops and almost all passengers are holidaymakers. Nor does the Ghan aim to provide luxury in the same way that a train like the Orient Express does, although the on-board food is excellent.
The railway was originally built to carry goods, not passengers. It was thought that sending goods from Europe to Australia's densely populated south via Darwin and the train, rather than around the continent by ship, would save time and money.
It is not every day a transcontinental railway is completed, and the Ghan claims to be the world's first north-south one. As I waited to board the Ghan, I could see that everyone was really looking forward to the journey. The Australian pensioners, who made up the majority of my fellow travellers, were particularly keen to board.
Our first stop, where the Ghan waited four hours, was at Katherine. Some passengers got off here and took a boat trip up the gorge. I didn't leave the train until Alice Springs, where I went on a two-day trip to Uluru (Ayers Rock) with a small group of passengers and a guide. Climbing the rock is not encouraged nowadays and few people do. Our group just walked around the rock and stayed to watch the beautiful sunset.
From Alice Springs there are two trains a week heading south, so many passengers break their journey here. The view from the train after Alice Springs isn't particularly interesting. There is a lot of flat land, with nothing to look at but cattle. But at dawn on the third day we reached the foothills of an area close to the Southern Ocean. My journey was over and, although the train might not have delivered on everything the advertisements promise, it had taken me to several of the most amazing sights that Australia has to offer.
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5.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
|
reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Winter Driving
Winter is dangerous because it's so difficult to know what is going to happen and accidents take place so easily. Fog can be waiting to meet you over the top of a hill. Ice might be hiding beneath the melting snow, waiting to send you off the road. The car coming towards you may suddenly slide across the road.
Rule Number One for driving on icy roads is to drive smoothly. Uneven movements can make a car suddenly very difficult to control. So every time you either turn the wheel, touch the brakes or increase your speed, you must be as gentle and slow as possible. Imagine you are driving with a full cup of hot coffee on the seat next to you. Drive so that you wouldn't spill it.
Rule Number Two is to pay attention to what might happen. The more ice there is, the further down the road you have to look. Test how long it takes to stop by gently braking. Remember that you may be driving more quickly than you think. In general, allow double your normal stopping distance when the road is wet, three times this distance on snow, and even more on ice. Try to stay in control of your car at all times and you will avoid trouble.
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50.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Shopping for furniture
A report by Dave Worthington
Homestyle, a new furniture shop, was forced to close shortly after its opening at midnight last Thursday. Up to 6,000 people hurried to the shop. There were lots of special offers, including a leather sofa on sale for PS45 (but only until 3 am) and a bed for PS30 (but only between 3 am and 8 am).
The shop's normal hours will be 9 am to 9 pm every day, but Homestyle had announced that it wouldn't close at all for the first 24 hours. However, it had to be shut within half an hour of opening. A police officer who was called to the shop said: 'The police had been informed that a large crowd was expected but people just weren't patient. The shop was soon full and the managers sensibly decided to close the doors. The people outside became angry because they thought everything would be sold before they could enter and they refused to queue quietly until there was space for them inside. The other problem was that there was a long queue of cars trying to get to the car park. What I really couldn't believe was that many people decided to just leave their cars in the middle of the road and walk the last few metres to the shop. This meant that the road was then completely blocked.'
One customer, Jenny Smith, who managed to get into the shop, said: 'I queued for three hours and I didn't have time to buy what I wanted. But the staff were very calm and explained what was happening. They didn't have any choice, as it wasn't safe. So I'll come back when they reopen but I'm not willing to queue again.'
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51.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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The Eden Project
Since it opened, the Eden Project in the south-west of England has become one of the UK's most popular tourist attractions. At first sight, the huge 'biospheres' on this former industrial site look like a scene from a science-fiction movie.
Each biosphere contains a different climate zone, showing visitors just how important the relationship between people and plants is. It is amazing to see just how many products that we use every day come from plants: wood, rubber, fruit, rice, sugar, coffee and chocolate, for example. Over 135,000 different types of plant are grown here. However cold the weather is outside, computer-controlled electric heaters keep the plants at the right temperature.
In the Rainforest Zone, the atmosphere is always damp because of a huge waterfall. Another zone reproduces the environment of the Mediterranean, California and South Africa, and there are plans to build a desert zone in the near future.
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52.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Eight-eighteen News
Eight-eighteen News is a news agency for young people
The members of our agency are aged 8-18. We collect news and write news reports, stories and articles. We send these to leading national and local newspapers, magazines, television, radio and websites to be published. The news stories and articles by our members that are accepted by newspapers and TV and radio stations, can all be read or listened to on the Eight-eighteen website. We have three centres around the country where young people can meet other members and get involved in projects, and we intend to open new centres nationwide.
Since our news agency started in 1994, when we were called 'Young News', over 2,500 young people have been members. Sophie was one of them. She says:
'I first heard of Eight-eighteen when they interviewed me for an article about young people's opinions on hip hop music. I sat in a room with a team of young journalists and was amazed by the opportunities they had. Age wasn't important, they were trusted to do the stories on their own.
I started going to the Eight-eighteen centre in my city, got some training, then was a member until I was 18. Eight-eighteen has helped me achieve more than I thought possible. With all the skills I learnt, I got a job at 19, and am currently the youngest employee on a major news website, checking articles written by the journalists before putting them onto the site.'
Get involved at every level
When you join Eight-eighteen, you'll be trained and you'll take part in monthly meetings to decide who is going to be responsible for writing each news story.
Eight-eighteen encourages skills-sharing between members. 'Peer trainers' are experienced Eight-eighteen members who are 12 years old and over. They train new members and teach them basic journalism skills. As they become more experienced as trainers, some members present sessions to audiences of young people and adults outside Eight-eighteen, often in youth clubs and summer camps. These young trainers are always supported by older staff who accompany them on these trips.
Eight-eighteen News holds training sessions for new members three times a year. Our next new-members' training will be in February. If you, or someone you know, is interested in joining, call Director Den Ley at 01622 657874 for more information. The Eight-eighteen programme is suitable for children with reading and writing skills at all levels. Membership is free and there is no test to join.
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53.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Joining the Kirov Ballet
I'm Nathalie. Last year I was one of the youngest foreign students ever to join the Kirov's ballet school in St Petersburg, Russia. At my first ballet class, I was nervous as I didn't know anyone. Everyone gathered round, asking me questions, all in Russian. I tried to say something in Russian and they began talking in English so we managed to communicate. Now, six months later, everyone is really nice to me, my Russian has improved enormously and I understand my teachers.
For the first two weeks after I arrived, my mum stayed with me and when she left, I was a bit sad. In fact, I called home late at night once to speak to her because I felt a little lonely.
Compared with my ballet school in England, the classes in Russia are really hard, and I eat like an elephant to keep up my energy levels. That makes me confident I can perform to the school's high standards. In the evenings, I watch my favourite films on my computer, but sometimes I fall asleep before the DVD has finished.
Now that I've settled down, I feel really at home here. I like walking around the city and going to the different shops - even during December when I couldn't believe how cold it was. I decided to buy a fur hat because it was minus 10oC, but the Russians said it was mild for the time of year! At least it was warm and cosy in my room. At the moment we are preparing for a new production and there's also a competition for young dancers which I'm going to enter. I feel so lucky to be here.
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54.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Watering the Desert
It can rain at any time between November and March in Marrakesh, Morocco. It doesn't happen frequently and when it does, the city's water pipes can't manage the sudden floods, which turn the streets into rivers. But, as many winters have remained dry in recent times, when the rain does come, it is welcomed by the local people.
Marrakesh's parks and gardens exist, not because of the rain, but thanks to a network of underground channels, dug in the 11th century, which bring in water from the mountains all year round. Basically dry places, which receive their water in this way, are known as oases.
Further south from Marrakesh, the traveller arrives at Skoura. Here every available piece of land is made into small squares by the water channels and used to grow food. The Atlas mountains, snow-covered in winter, provide a delightful background.
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55.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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THE ICEHOTEL
For many years the Arctic was a popular destination in the summer season to see the land of the midnight sun but in winter the few inhabitants had the snow and ice to themselves. By the end of the 1980s it was decided that the dark and cold winter should be seen as an advantage. In the winter of 1990 the French artist Jannot Derit was invited to have the opening of an exhibition in a specially built igloo (a building made of snow) in the little town of Jukkasjarvi on the frozen Torne River. The building, named Arctic Hall, attracted many interested visitors to the area. One night a group of foreign guests decided it would be a good idea to sleep in the Arctic Hall. The following morning the brave group were very pleased with their experience and the idea of an ice hotel was born. Today it is world famous.
As soon as winter begins, a team of snow builders, architects and artists from all over the world come to Jukkasjarvi and they make the hotel for that year. As one part is completed, it opens to visitors and overnight guests, while the other parts are still being built. The first part is completed in December and each week after that a new part opens, until January 7th when the hotel is completed. As the ICEHOTEL is built under the open sky, using the natural materials of the winter season, the finishing date depends on nature and therefore there are sometimes changes to the plan. In the spring, as the weather gets warmer, the hotel melts.
Inside the hotel, the temperature is never colder than -5 degC to -8 degC, however cold it may be outside. Winter outer clothes such as warm overalls, hats and gloves are included in the cost of guests' stay at the hotel. In addition to this, it is a good idea for guests to bring sweaters and a scarf as well as plenty of woollen socks and to choose footwear that is larger than normal to allow space for thick socks.
If you are planning to come to the hotel, you can buy warm sweaters, woollen socks and much more on the ICEHOTEL website. You can order these and the equipment you will need at the same time as you book your visit. The items will be delivered to your room when you check in.
The hotel is in the village of Jukkasjarvi, 200 km above the Arctic Circle but only 15 km from Kiruna airport and 17 km from Kiruna train station. Transport by bus can be arranged from the airport or train station to the ICEHOTEL.
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56.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Moonshine
The band Moonshine released their third CD last week. 'Here again' is a followup to 'The Waves'. There have been a few changes since the last CD, with Tom Wilcott on bass guitar replacing Simon McVee who left the band last year, and the arrival of Tom Simpson on drums.
It is clear from the first song on the CD which is a dance tune that the band is no longer going to concentrate on slow songs. The second tune is also a dance tune and is even louder and heavier. Most later lacks are in the bands more usual slow style. These two tracks will certainly come as a surprise to many fans. Either of them could easily become a hit single though because they are excellent.
Singer Rob Letchford gets a chance to really show how good he is reaching each note perfectly. Fans should be grateful he recorded the songs for the album before he had trouble with his throat. This has rented in the band having to cancel their next tour. (Anyone who has bought tickets need not worry as dl the concerts will be rearranged as soon as Rob has recovered.)
On this CD Moonshine show they can produce perfect music in a variety of styles from the slow ones we are familiar with to the ones that will keep your feet tapping. I did feel though that they put their best songs at the beginning and the last few tracks were not of quite the same quality. Despite thisHere again is certain to be a big hit and bring more success to this band.
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57.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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The Skywalk
The Grand Canyon in the United States was created by the River Colorado. People visit the Grand Canyon Park to go walking and running but mainly to look at the view. It is a wonderful view made even better by the Skywalk. The distance from the Skywalk to the bottom of the Grand Canyon is 1219 metres. It is a platform whose walls and floor are built of glass so that you can see the beautiful rocks of the canyon. Up to 120 people are allowed to stand on it at the same time. It opened in 2007 and since then thousands of people have used it. You have to wear special covers over your shoes to avoid scratching the glass beneath your feet. Walking onto the Skywalk makes you feel like a bird floating high up in the air.
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58.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Anna's new school
It's been a very exciting week, as we've just moved into our new school building! It's an amazing place, as the builders have used wood for the whole thing, just like in our old school, but it's also one of the first in my country designed to be really environmentally friendly.
The school took months to build, so we saw it all happening. It was really exciting seeing the builders clear the space where it would be, although it also meant that some lovely open land disappeared. And the noise of the building machines was really loud, although the builders often had to stop work because it rained so hard. We all began to think the building would never be finished.
We have five classrooms now, which are enormous - much bigger than in our previous school next door, which was very old. We share one room with people in the town when they want to have meetings and so on. There's a nursery too, a lovely dining room, and really big changing rooms which we're looking forward to using as soon as our new sports field is ready.
When you come into the school, one of the first things you notice is that there aren't any heaters in the building! Instead, the heat for the school comes from all of us inside it - the children, the teachers and the computers we use. The building is so well designed that it holds all the heat inside - and all the sound too, so if we sing inside our classrooms, we can almost believe we're inside a concert hall!
Another thing you'll notice is that the school roof has a tree on top of it! It was put there by the builders once they'd finished the roof, because they said it was the custom in Austria, the country where the roof was made. The electricity for lights and computers comes from a wind turbine on a hill behind the school. We went with our teacher to look at it yesterday, and it goes round really fast. It's so big, it can be seen for miles! We took some pictures which we're planning to put on the website.
Even though we're already using the school building, there are still some parts to be added to it - for example, at the moment we're putting on a play for parents to come and see, but we still have to walk back to our old school hall to do it. The replacement will be ready by next year, though. We're so pleased with our new school, and our teachers say we'll all learn much faster now we're in it!
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59.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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JAZZ
By Katie Atkins, aged 14
I play the trumpet in my school jazz band. Last month we held a jazz competition with bands from local high schools - and our band won!
Each band had their own costumes, ranging from black school uniforms like my band wore, to brightly-coloured T-shirts. We didn't look much like adult professional bands, but all of us were used to performing in competitions, so the quality of playing was amazing, especially considering everyone was so young. Players from each band even created new tunes right there on stage. It was exciting to watch - but even better when my band played on stage!
We have a great jazz band at my school, but not everyone who wants to play in it gets accepted - only about half, in fact. But anyone who's keen to play goes to jazz practice before school, and we often spend time together after school, listening to jazz and learning its language. There are also trips to jazz summer camps across the country - I've been to a couple and learnt a lot.
Adults are often surprised that young people are getting interested in jazz. My music teacher thinks it's because pop music isn't challenging enough for people like me who are serious about music. But I find it exciting because it's both new and old at the same time - you can create your own music, but you also feel you're part of its history, as you're playing on stage in the same way as great jazz performers before you.
My school's really lucky because we have great teachers, and parents who've supported us all the way. Without them, we'd never get anywhere with our music!
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6.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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SAMUEL PEPYS
The most famous diary in English was written by Samuel Pepys. It gives a detailed and interesting description of everyday life in England between 1660 and 1669. Pepys writes about important news stories of the time, like disease, an enemy navy sailing up the River Thames and the Great Fire of London.
He also writes about himself, even about his faults - he often slept during church or looked at the pretty girls. He describes his home life - a quarrel with his wife and how they became friends again, his worry about her illness. As well as books, he liked music, the theatre, card games, and parties with good food and plenty of fun. Pepys was a busy man who had many important jobs
- he was a Member of Parliament and President of the Royal Society. He is also remembered for his work for the British Navy.
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60.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B1
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Sharks
Sharks are some of the most frightening creatures in our oceans. They are well prepared for feeding under water because they can see very well, and they can also feel movement through special lines on the sides of their bodies. These make sharks very dangerous for smaller sea creatures that become their food.
Although sharks are similar to other fish in a number of ways, their bodies are different. For example, unlike other fish, most sharks ought to swim all the time in order to breathe and stay alive, so they hardly sleep at all. Also, if sharks are turned over on their backs, they can stop moving completely. This is a very useful technique for researchers who are often required to handle sharks. It allows them to find out more about these fascinating creatures.
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Norwich
Norwich, the capital of the part of Britain known as East Anglia, has existed as a place to live for more than two thousand years. It began as a small village beside the River Wensum. At the time of the Norman invasion in 1066 it had grown to become one of the largest towns in England.
With two cathedrals and a mosque, Norwich has long been a popular centre for various religions. The first cathedral was built in 1095 and has recently celebrated its 900th anniversary, while Norwich itself had a year of celebration in 1994 to mark the 800th anniversary of the city receiving a Royal Charter. This allowed it to be called a city and to govern itself independently.
Today, in comparison with places like London or Manchester, Norwich is quite small, with a population of around 150,000, but in the 16th century Norwich was the second city of England. It continued to grow for the next 300 years and got richer and richer, becoming famous for having as many churches as there are weeks in the year and as many pubs as there are days in the year.
Nowadays, there are far fewer churches and pubs, but in 1964 the University of East Anglia was built in Norwich. With its fast-growing student population and its success as a modern commercial centre (Norwich is the biggest centre for insurance services outside London), the city new has a wide choice of entertainment: theatres, cinemas, nightclubs, busy cafes, excellent restaurants, and a number of arts and leisure centres. There is also a football team, whose colours are green and yellow. The team is known as 'The Canaries', though nobody can be sure why.
Now the city's attractions include another important development, a modern shopping centre called 'The Castle Mall'. The people of Norwich lived with a very large hole in the middle of their city for over two years, as builders dug up the main car park. Lorries moved nearly a million tons of earth so that the roof of the Mall could become a city centre park, with attractive water pools and hundreds of trees. But the local people are really pleased that the old open market remains, right in the heart of the city and next to the new development. Both areas continue to do good business, proving that Norwich has managed to mix the best of the old and the new.
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No Title
When I opened the first 'Body Shop' in 1976 my only object was to earn enough to feed my children. Today 'The Body Shop' is an international company rapidly growing all around the world. In the years since we began I have learned a lot. Much of what I have learned will be found in this book, for I believe that we, as a company, have something worth saying about how to run a successful business without giving up what we really believe in.
It's not a normal business book, nor is it just about my life. The message is that to succeed in business you have to be different. Business can be fun, a business can be run with love and it can do good. In business, as in life, I need to enjoy myself, to have a feeling of family and to feel excited by the unexpected. I have always wanted the people who work for 'The Body Shop' to feel the same way.
Now this book sends these ideas of mine out into the world, makes them public. I'd like to think there are no limits to our 'family', no limits to what can be done. I find that an exciting thought. I hope you do, too.
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THE ROCKIES
The Rocky Mountains run almost the length of North America.
They start in the North-west, but lie only a few hundred miles from the
centre in more southern areas. Although the Rockies are smaller than the Alps, they are no less wonderful.
There are many roads across the Rockies, but the best way to see them is to travel by train. You start from Vancouver, the most attractive of Canada's big cities. Standing with its feet in the water and its head in the mountains, this city allows its residents to ski on slopes just 15 minutes by car from the city centre.
Thirty passenger trains a day used to set off from Vancouver on the cross- continent railway. Now there are just three a week, but the ride is still a great adventure. You sleep on board, which is fun, but travel through some of the best scenery at night.
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Meet the Amazing Watkins Family
The sons are composers and prize-winning musicians, while Dad makes the instruments. Matthew Rye reports.
Whole families of musicians are not exactly rare. However, it is unusual to come across one that includes not only writers and performers of music, but also an instrument maker.
When South Wales schoolteachers John and Hetty Watkins needed to get their ten-year-old son, Paul, a cello to suit his blossoming talents, they baulked at the costs involved. 'We had a look at various dealers and it was obvious it was going to be very expensive,' John says.
'So I wondered if I could actually make one. I discovered that the Welsh School of Instrument Making was not far from where I lived, and I went along for evening classes once a week for about three years.'
'After probably three or four goes with violins and violas, he had a crack at his first cello,' Paul, now 28, adds. 'It turned out really well. He made me another one a bit later, when he'd got the hang of it. And that's the one I used right up until a few months ago.' John has since retired as a teacher to work as a full-time craftsman, and makes up to a dozen violins a year - selling one to the esteemed American player Jaime Laredo was 'the icing on the cake'. Both Paul and his younger brother, Huw, were encouraged to play music from an early age. The piano came first: 'As soon as I was big enough to climb up and bang the keys, that's what I did,' Paul remembers. But it wasn't long before the cello beckoned. 'My folks were really quite keen for me to take up the violin, because Dad, who played the viola, used to play chamber music with his mates and they needed another violin to make up a string trio.
I learned it for about six weeks but didn't take to it. But I really took to the character who played the cello in Dad's group. I thought he was a very cool guy when I was six or seven. So he said he'd give me some lessons, and that really started it all off. Later, they suggested that my brother play the violin too, but he would have none of it.'
'My parents were both supportive and relaxed,' Huw says. 'I don't think I would have responded very well to being pushed. And, rather than feeling threatened by Paul's success, I found that I had something to aspire to.' Now 22, he is beginning to make his own mark as a pianist and composer.
Meanwhile, John Watkins' cello has done his elder son proud. With it, Paul won the string final of the BBC Young Musician of the Year competition. Then, at the remarkably youthful age of 20, he was appointed principal cellist of the BBC Symphony Orchestra, a position he held, still playing his father's instrument, until last year. Now, however, he has acquired a Francesco Rugeri cello, on loan from the Royal Academy of Music. 'Dad's not said anything about me moving on, though recently he had the chance to run a bow across the strings of each in turn and had to admit that my new one is quite nice! I think the only thing Dad's doesn't have - and may acquire after about 50-100 years - is the power to project right to the back of large concert halls. It will get richer with age, like my Rugeri, which is already 304 years old.'
Soon he will be seen on television playing the Rugeri as the soloist in Elgar's Cello Concerto, which forms the heart of the second programme in the new series, Masterworks. 'The well-known performance history doesn't affect the way I play the work,' he says. 'I'm always going to do it my way.' But Paul won't be able to watch himself on television - the same night he is playing at the Cheltenham Festival. Nor will Huw,whose String Quartet is receiving its London premiere at the Wigmore Hall the same evening. John and Hetty will have to be diplomatic - and energetic - if they are to keep track of all their sons' musical activities over the coming weeks.
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No Title
We always went to Ireland in June. Ever since the four of us began to go on holidays together we had spent the first fortnight of the month at Glencorn Lodge in County Antrim. It's a large house by the sea, not far from the village of Ardbeag. The English couple who bought the house, the Malseeds, have had to add to the building, but everything has been done most discreetly.
It was Strafe who found Glencorn for us. He'd come across an advertisement in the days when the Malseeds still felt the need to advertise. 'How about this?' he said one evening and read out the details. We had gone away together the summer before, to a hotel that had been recommended by friends, but it hadn't been a success because the food was so appalling.
The four of us have been playing cards together for ages, Dekko, Strafe, Cynthia and myself. They call me Milly, though strictly speaking my name is Dorothy Milson. Dekko picked up his nickname at school, Dekko Deacon sounding rather good, I suppose. He and Strafe were at school together, which must be why we call Strafe by his surname as the teachers used to. We're all about the same age and live quite close to the town where the Malseeds were before they decided to make the change from England to Ireland. Quite a coincidence, we always think.
'How ve1y nice,' Mrs Malseed said, smiling her welcome again this year. Some instinct seems to tell her when guests are about to arrive, for she's rarely not waiting in the large, low-ceilinged hall that always smells of flowers. 'Arthur, take the luggage up,' she commanded the old porter. 'Rose, Tulip, Lily and Geranium.' She referred to the names of the rooms reserved for us. Mrs Malseed herself painted flowers on the doors of the hotel instead of putting numbers. In winter, when no one much comes to Glencorn Lodge, she sees to little details like that; her husband sees to redecoration and repairs.
'Well, well, well,' Mr Malseed said, now entering the hall through the door that leads to the kitchen. 'A hundred thousand welcomes,' he greeted us in the Irish manner. He was smiling broadly with his dark brown eyes twinkling, making us think we were rather more than just another group of hotel guests. Everyone smiled, and I could feel the others thinking that our holiday had truly begun. Nothing had changed at Glencorn, all was well. Kitty from the dining room came out to greet us. 'You look younger every year, all four of you,' she said, causing eve1yone in the hall to laugh again. Arthur led the way to the rooms, canying as much of our luggage as he could manage and returning for the remainder.
After dinner we played cards for a while but not going on for as long as we might because we were still quite tired after the journey. In the lounge there was a man on his own and a French couple. There had been other people at dinner, of course, because in June Glencorn Lodge is always full: from where we sat in the window we could see some of them strolling about the lawns, others taking the cliff path down to the seashore. In the morning we'd do the same: we'd walk along the sands to Ardbeag and have coffee in the hotel there, back in time for lunch. In the afternoon we'd drive somewhere.
I knew all that because over the years this kind of pattern had developed. Since first we came here, we'd all fallen hopelessly in love with every variation of its remarkable landscape.
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IN THEIR NATURAL HABITAT
What keeps film-makers Amanda Barrett and Owen Newman away from their home comforts for months on end? The search for the perfect shot.
Of all the creatures to be found in the jungles and plains of East Africa, two of the hardest to track down must surely be producer Amanda Barrett and cameraman Owen Newman.
Their present habitat, the Ngorongoro Crater, has been lashed by six months of almost continuous rain, rise to a number of unforeseen problems. Newman explained that they had to invest in an expensive piece of equipment so that whenever one of their vehicles gets stuck in the mud, Amanda can pull him back to safety. His working partnership with the talented producer has created some of TV's finest wildlife films, such as their amazing and well-received film on leopards.
Even while this film of one of Africa's shyest cats was being shown, the pair were already back where they belong - this time trailing that equally shy animal, the jackal. But this is nothing unusual in television partnerships. Travelling film-makers have been constantly circling the globe, in order to point cameras at exotic wildlife ever since the birth of television.
I spoke to Newman about their partnership while he was making one of his rare and unpredictable reunions with other members of the human race at a safari lodge. 'We do have occasional arguments but we tend to get over them fairly quickly,' he says of his colleague. Neither of them regard themselves as the leader, and he says that one of the reasons why they get on so well with each other is that they both see the animals in a similar way.
'When we are on the move, we have to put up our tents each night. But this time we are operating much more of a fixed camp, and as we set out at 5 a.m. each morning, we tend to make the tea the night before and keep it warm in a vacuum flask.'
The rest of the Newman-Barrett daily diet consists of pre-packed meals heated and dished out by whoever is at hand at the time. 'It's not unusual for us to be out and about for up to eight weeks at a time, so catering does cause the odd panic,' says Newman.
It can be a rough existence, but the appeal of being alone in such remote areas is that we can get close enough to the animals to become part of their lives. I remember once we were filming a family of lions and there was one lioness who would regularly go off on her own. Whenever she returned, she would go round and greet all the other members of the pride, and after a while she made a point of greeting our car as part of her round.'
It was back in 1988 that Newman first worked with Barrett on a film called 'The Great Rift', and two more years before they set off as a team to film Arctic foxes. Since then, they have learned to set aside four months on location to gather sufficient material for each half-hour film. And before they get the green light, they have to submit a script for approval.
'Amanda and I struck up a good working relationship from the start,' says Newman, 'because it was obvious that we shared the same ideas and overall vision. What we are always seeking to achieve is a film that is rich in atmosphere, that brings to life the true spirit of the place and animals, and that will touch people's hearts. I believe if you can evoke an emotional response from people, that is far better than if you appeal only to their heads.'
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Changing lives with a Stranger
Mandie Currie, a zoo-keeper, spent the day in the offices of the magazine Marie Claire.
'Choosing what to wear for my day at Marie Claire was tricky because normally I wear a uniform at work. First I went to a still-life photo studio, then to press previews, all before lunch. The zoo is such a tranquil, peaceful place - and here I was rushing around when I could be sitting quietly giving an animal a cuddle. Some of the members of the fashion team seemed quite stressed - my job doesn't really get pressurised. At a fashion shoot in the afternoon, it made me laugh to think that I'd usually be cleaning out cages or handling rats. I'm fascinated to see how magazines work, but I really enjoy my job at the zoo so I'll stay put.'
Alice Cutler, a fashion assistant at Marie Claire, spent the day at London Zoo.
'I arrived at the zoo in my leather boots and dark blue trousers. The zoo gave thme a green polo shirt instead to work in -which was just as well, as I got very dirty. As I stroked one of the elephants, I reckoned Mandie would probably be packing up clothes in the cupboard. By five o'clock, I stank but I'd had such a brilliant day. When I retire from fashion, I could see myself working with elephants - but maybe in Africa.'
Karen Hodson, a nurse at Hammersmith Hospital, went on location with the television gardening programme Ground Force.
'I was extremely excited about meeting the team, and Alan Titchmarsh, the programme presenter, was really nice. One of the things I liked was the chance to be in the fresh air. Depending on my shifts, I sometimes never see daylight. Even though it was hard work, it was great fun. I thought I was pretty strong but I felt weak compared with the rest of the team. My romantic vision of landscape gardening had not included physical hard work or meticulous planning. I was more an enthusiastic than effective gardener, so I don't plan to give up my other job.'
Charlie Dimmock, landscape gardener with the TV programme Ground Force, worked a shift at Hammersmith Hospital.
'I made beds and handed out tablets. I expected to faint when I was doing some jobs, but I amazed myself by finding that it didn't bother me. The friendship among the nurses is great, and it felt tremendously 'girlie' compared with my normal male environment. I feel my job is a real waste of time compared with nursing. My day at the hospital was not exactly pleasant but it left me with a great sense of satisfaction.'
Lucy Harvey, a personal trainer, spent the day with the airline Ryanair as a member of the cabin crew.
'I changed into the uniform, and the moment I put it on I felt completely different- people suddenly look up to you. Before the flight, our supervisor told us about safety, what to do if someone had a heart attack-which I knew about from my fitness training. When the passengers boarded the flight to Paris I gave out magazines. Everyone stared at me and I felt very self-conscious. On the return journey, we had 80 schoolchildren on board who wouldn't sit still. I wished I was back in the gym with one sensible adult to look after.'
Sonia McDermott, an air hostess with the airline Ryanair, spent the day as a personal trainer in a gym.
'I was dreading doing this swap as I don't do any exercise. I was amazed at how much attention you give to one person. In my job you meet 130 passengers four times a day. I was very surprised at lunch to see that some of the trainers didn't eat ultra-healthily, but they all drink lots of water. I wouldn't swap my job for this. However, it has inspired me to join a gym and try to be a bit healthier.'
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No Title
Many trees in the Brackham area were brought down in the terrible storms that March. The town itself lost two great lime trees from the former market square. The disappearance of such prominent features had altered the appearance of the town centre entirely, to the annoyance of its more conservative inhabitants.
Among the annoyed, under more normal circumstances, would have been Chief Inspector Douglas Pelham, head of the local police force. But at the height of that week's storm, when the wind brought down even the mature walnut tree in his garden, Pelham had in fact been in no fit state to notice. A large and healthy man, he had for the first time in his life been seriously ill with an attack of bronchitis.
When he first complained of an aching head and tightness in his chest, his wife, Molly, had tried to persuade him to go to the doctor. Convinced that the police force could not do without him, he had, as usual, ignored her and attempted to carry on working. Predictably, though he wouldn't have listened to anyone who tried to tell him so, this had the effect of fogging his memory and shortening his temper.
It was only when his colleague, Sergeant Lloyd, took the initiative and drove him to the doctor's door that he finally gave in. By that time, he didn't have the strength left to argue with her. In no time at all, she was taking him along to the chemist's to get his prescribed antibiotics and then home to his unsurprised wife who sent him straight to bed.
When Molly told him, on the Thursday morning, that the walnut tree had been brought down during the night, Pelham hadn't been able to take it in. On Thursday evening, he had asked weakly about damage to the house, groaned thankfully when he heard there was none, and pulled the sheets over his head.
It wasn't until Saturday, when the antibiotics took effect, his temperature dropped and he got up, that he realised with a shock that the loss of the walnut tree had made a permanent difference to the appearance of the living-room. The Pelhams' large house stood in a sizeable garden. It had not come cheap, but even so Pelham had no regrets about buying it. The leafy garden had created an impression of privacy. Now, though, the storm had changed his outlook.
Previously, the view from the living-room had featured the handsome walnut tree. This had not darkened the room because there was also a window on the opposite wall, but it had provided interesting patterns of light and shade that disguised the true state of the worn furniture that the family had brought with them from their previous house.
With the tree gone, the room seemed cruelly bright, its worn furnishings exposed in all their shabbiness. And the view from the window didn't bear looking at. The tall house next door, previously hidden by the tree, was now there, dominating the outlook with its unattractive purple bricks and external pipes. It seemed to have a great many upstairs windows, all of them watching the Pelhams' every movement.
'Doesn't it look terrible?' Pelham croaked to his wife.
But Molly, standing in the doorway, sounded more pleased than dismayed. 'That's what I've been telling you ever since we came here. We have to buy a new sofa, whatever it costs.'
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The Netball Captain
In our series on women in sport, Suzie Ellis went to meet England's netball captain.
Kendra Slawinski is captain of England's netball team. When I met her, she'd had a typical day for the weeks leading up to next month's World Championships: a day's teaching at a local school followed by a training session in the local supermarket car park.
I was surprised to hear about her training venue.
'Don't you get strange looks?' I asked her. 'I'm too involved in what I'm doing concentrating on my movements and my feet - to see anything else,' she said.'I might notice cars slow down out of the corner of my eye, but that's all.'
'My whole life now is all about making sure I'm at my absolute best for the Championships,' says Kendra. I'm on a strict timetable to gain maximum fitness for them. These are her fourth World Championships and they are guaranteed to be the biggest ever, with 27 nations taking part.
'We'll have home support behind us, which is so special,' she says. 'And it's important that the reputation of netball in this country should be improved. As a result of playing here, there will be more pressure than we're used to. A home crowd will have expectations and give more support. People will expect us to start the tournament with a good game.'
Their first game is against Barbados and it comes immediately after the opening ceremony. As far as I'm aware, we have always beaten them, but they'll be exciting to play. They have lots of ability.'
The England team are currently ranked fourth in the world. But, as Kendra points out, the World Championships will be tough. 'You have to push yourself to play each day, there's no rest between games as in a series. And you can still win an international series if you lose the first game. But the Championships are different because there's only one chance and you have to be ready to make the most of it.
In the fifteen years since she has been playing at top level, the sport has become harder, faster. On court, players are more aggressive. 'You don't do all that training not to come out a winner,' says Kendra.But once the final whistle blows, you become a different person. We're all friendlier after the game.'
Netball is also taking a far more scientific approach to fitness testing.
'It is essential that we all think and train like world-class players,' says Kendra.
As captain, I think it's important that I have a strong mental attitude and lead by example. I see my role as supporting and encouraging the rest of the team.'
'From the very beginning, my netball career has always been carefully planned,' she says. So I took the decision some time ago that this competition would be the end of it as far as playing is concerned.
Doubtless she will coach young players in the future, but at the moment her eyes are firmly set on her last big event. As she leads out her team in the opening candlelight ceremony, she is more than likely to have a tear in her eye. Her loyal supporters will be behind her every step of the way.
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Style Merchants
Style informs every part of our lives today from clothes to interior decoration and accessories. Jo Foley provides a taste of the trends for this year's followers of fashion.
Ned Ingham: Dress Designer
Ned Ingham makes dreamy, romantic wedding dresses. 'People would do well to avoid the traditional, rather stiff dresses and the 'frilly' look in favour of much simpler styles,' he explains. Ingham has been drawing and designing wedding dresses since he was a schoolboy. Then, at the age of 16, he enrolled at fashion school, where he gained the technical skills to cut and construct clothes. But you do not have to be a bride to own an Ingham dress: he also designs long, classic evening dresses, given a fresh touch by up-to-the-minute colours and fabrics. For the less adventurous, Ingham's designs include a classic summer navy-blue suit, the centrepiece of the Englishwoman's wardrobe for most of the 20th century. But in his hands, it looks as new as tomorrow.
Sally Quail: Jeweller
Although she once worked for an art dealer, Sally Quail has had no formal training in jewellery. It was only when she could not find an engagement ring she liked that she decided to design her own. The resulting enquiries encouraged her to set up as a designer in 1990. Now her pieces are sought out by many stars of stage and screen. Her signature style is large semi-precious stones set in gold to make magnificent necklaces, bracelets and rings fashioned after those worn in the 18th century. However, she has recently begun to use the most precious stone of all - diamonds. 'It must reflect my age,' says 36- year-old Quail. 'I reached that moment in every woman's life when she wants a diamond and that is when I began working with them.'
Lily Grimson: Handbag Designer
Just four years after setting up in the fiercely competitive fashion business, Lily Grimson, with only an introductory course in art and design behind her, has had two of her creations selected for a major design exhibition. Whatever the shape and form of her designs, they are never ignored. All of Grimson's fashion bags are handmade in the UK.
The Grimson handbag is not simply a container - the bags are full of glamour, whether fashioned from the finest calfskin or the heaviest silk. A combination of chic and care makes a Grimson bag something special.
Peter Little: Hairdresser
For over 20 years, Peter Little has taken his scissors to some of the world's top heads. Everyone who is anyone has had their hair styled by this man. 'Most women want real-looking hair and a style they can manage at home,' he says. So his approach is a novel one - to ensure that his clients never appear as if they have just walked out of a salon. But this carefree attitude and casual look does not come cheap - PS250 for the first appointment, and there's a three-month waiting list. Trading on his celebrity, Peter has produced his own range of hairdryers and other styling equipment. Now, those who can't make it to his salon can create their own styles back at home.
Penny Pratt: Florist
In addition to running her tiny shop, Penny Pratt is a flower consultant for a large chain of supermarkets and provides floral ideas to a number of top restaurants. All of this is good going for someone who has no floristry qualifications and gave up her job as a teacher 10 years ago in order to do 'something different'. And her simple, yet incredibly modern, creations have begun to capture every design prize in the flower business, which has helped her in setting up her own London Flower School. She has recently combined her skills on extremely successful lecture trips to Japan and the USA. She says, 'Flower arrangements are much simpler these days. Keep them simple but strong and don't have too many leaves - they are too large and architectural. For wedding bouquets, whatever your arrangements, the golden rule remains: the flowers must be of the same species.'
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Living in the valley
We had been living in our valley for sixteen months when we first realised the dangers that could exist in the surrounding hills and threaten our very survival.
It was the year when the storms came early, before the calendar even hinted at winter, even before November was out. Until that time, we had felt safe and sheltered in our valley below the protecting hills.
Soon snow began to fall. Within a day it lay some 15 centimetres deep. It almost completely blocked our lane and made the streamside path slippery and dangerous. But on the neighbouring heights the snow was much deeper and stayed for longer. Up there the wind blasted fiercely. Deep in our valley we felt only sudden gusts of wind; trees swayed but the branches held firm.
And yet we knew that there was reason for us to worry. The snow and wind were certainly inconvenient but they did not really trouble us greatly. It was the river, the Ryburn, which normally flowed so gently, that threatened us most. It reminded us of what could have occurred if circumstances had been different, if the flow of water from the hills had not, many years before, been controlled, held back by a series of dams.
In a short time the snow started to melt. Day after day, we watched furious clouds pile up high over the hills to the west. Sinister grey clouds extended over the valleys. They twisted and turned, rising eastwards and upwards, warning of what was to come. We had seen enough of the sky; now we began to watch the river, which every day was becoming fuller and wilder.
The snow was gradually washed away as more and more rain streamed from the clouds, but high up in the hills the reservoir was filling and was fast approaching danger level. And then it happened - for the first time in years the reservoir overflowed. There in the heights it was like the Niagara Falls, as the water surged over the edge of the dam and poured into the stream below.
The river seemed maddened as the waters poured almost horizontally down to its lower stretches. Just a couple of metres from our cottage, the stream seemed wild beneath the bridge. It was far deeper than we'd ever seen it so near our home, lunging furiously at its banks. For three days we prayed that it would stay below its wall. Fortunately, our prayers were answered as the dam held and the waters began to subside.
On many occasions through the centuries before the dam was built, the river had flooded the nearby villages in just such a rage. Now, though, the dam restricts the flow of the river and usually all is well; the great mass of water from the hills, the product of snow and torrential rain, remains behind its barrier with just the occasional overflow. We can thus enjoy, rather than fear, the huge clouds that hang over the valley, and can be thrilled by the tremendous power which we know the river possesses. Thanks to this protection we can feel our home in the valley is still secure and safe.
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Confident people what's their secret?
Confident people may look as though they were born that way, but most will tell you that it's a skill they've learned because they had to. Nina Hathway asks five people how they did it.
A Jenny
When I left school I was very shy and I always thought I'd stay that way. I was about twenty-five when I was asked to help out at my daughter's school. I was sure I wouldn't cope, but I surprised myself by doing well and someone there suggested that I should do a university course.
There was a huge knot in my stomach the day I turned up for my first lecture. But my confidence gradually grew - I became more outgoing. Looking back, working at the school was the turning point in my life that has helped everything else fall into place.
B Michaela
It all started four years ago when my father became ill and I had to take over the family business. I was so scared, I went over the top and became a bit too aggressive and impatient. I thought that was what confident people were like, but gradually I learned otherwise. To be confident you've got to believe in yourself.
If things get too demanding for me at work, I don't let myself feel guilty if I save a number of tasks until the next day. When I'm confronted with something difficult, I tell myself that I've got nothing to lose. It's fear that makes you lack confidence, so I'm always having quiet chats with myself to put aside those fears!
C Lisa
People think I'm very confident but, in fact, the calmer I look, the more terrified I really am. I've had to develop the ability to look confident because it's the most vital thing in TV. Interviewing people has helped me realise that most - if not all - of us get tense in important situations, and we feel calmer when we speak to someone who's genuinely friendly. The best ever piece of advice came from my mother when I was agonising as a teenager about wearing the right clothes. She simply cried, 'Who's looking at you? Everybody's too busy worrying about how they look.' I've found that's well worth remembering.
I also think you gain confidence by tackling things that scare you. When I took my driving test I was so nervous, but I passed. After that I felt sure that I'd never feel so frightened again, and I never have.
D Barbara
My confidence comes naturally from really enjoying the work I do, but it's something that I've built up over the years. If you just get on with it and learn from any mistakes you make, you're more confident the next time round. I work hard and I'm popular in the restaurant, but it's probable that one out of ten people doesn't like me. I don't let that affect me. You've got to like yourself for what you are, not try to be what others expect.
My company runs a lot of training courses, and going on those has built up my self-esteem. The company also encourages employees to set manageable targets. It helps no end if you can see you're achieving something tangible, rather than reaching for the stars all at once, and ending up with nothing but air!
E Kim
After I left college I worked for years as a secretary and would sit in meetings, not always agreeing with what was being said, but too scared to speak up. Eventually, I summoned up the confidence to start making my point. Even so, when I first worked in politics, I'd never spoken in public before and always used to shake like a leaf. I would say to myself, 'Don't be so silly. People do this every day of their lives, so there's no reason why you can't.' I also found it helpful to jot a few things down to refer to - rather like having a comfort blanket!
I don't think there is anyone who isn't a little shaky when it comes to talking publicly. The real secret of confidence lies in telling yourself over and over again, 'Nothing is impossible.'
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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THE SHELL ARTIST
At the age of 83 Peter Cooke has become a master of his art.
There are still many things that Peter Cooke would like to try his hand at - paper-making and feather-work are on his list. For the moment though, he will stick to the skill that he has been delighted to perfect over the past ten years: making delicate and unusual objects out of shells.
'Tell me if I am boring you,' he says, as he leads me round his apartment showing me his work. There is a fine line between being a bore and being an enthusiast, but Cooke need not worry: he fits into the latter category, helped both by his charm and by the beauty of the things he makes.
He points to a pair of shell-covered ornaments above a fireplace. 'I shan't be at all bothered if people don't buy them because I have got so used to them, and to me they're adorable. I never meant to sell my work commercially. Some friends came to see me about five years ago and said, "You must have an exhibition - people ought to see these. We'll talk to a man who owns an art gallery".' The result was an exhibition in London, at which 70 per cent of the objects were sold. His second exhibition opened at the gallery yesterday. Considering the enormous prices the pieces command - around PS2,000 for the ornaments an empty space above the fireplace would seem a small sacrifice for Cooke to make.
There are 86 pieces in the exhibition, with prices starting at PS225 for a shell-flower in a crystal vase. Cooke insists that he has nothing to do with the prices and is cheerily open about their level: he claims there is nobody else in the world who produces work like his, and, as the gallery-owner told him, 'Well, you're going to stop one day and everybody will want your pieces because there won't be any more.'
'I do wish, though,' says Cooke, 'that I'd taken this up a lot earlier, because then I would have been able to produce really wonderful things - at least the potential would have been there. Although the ideas are still there and I'm doing the best I can now, I'm more limited physically than I was when I started.' Still, the work that he has managed to produce is a long way from the common shell constructions that can be found in seaside shops. 'I have a miniature mind,' he says, and this has resulted in boxes covered in thousands of tiny shells, little shaded pictures made from shells and baskets of astonishingly realistic flowers.
Cooke has created his own method and uses materials as and when he finds them. He uses the cardboard sent back with laundered shirts for his flower bases, a nameless glue bought in bulk from a sail-maker ('If it runs out, I don't know what I will do!') and washing-up liquid to wash the shells. 'I have an idea of what I want to do, and it just does itself,' he says of his working method, yet the attention to detail, colour gradations and symmetry he achieves look far from accidental.
Cooke's quest for beautiful, and especially tiny, shells has taken him further than his Norfolk shore: to France, Thailand, Mexico, South Africa and the Philippines, to name but a few of the beaches where he has lain on his stomach and looked for beauties to bring home. He is insistent that he only collects dead shells and defends himself against people who write him letters accusing him of stripping the world's beaches. 'When I am collecting shells, I hear people's great fat feet crunching them up far faster than I can collect them; and the ones that are left, the sea breaks up. I would not dream of collecting shells with living creatures in them or diving for them, but once their occupants have left, why should I not collect them?' If one bases this argument on the amount of luggage that can be carried home by one man, the sum beauty of whose work is often greater than its natural parts, it becomes very convincing indeed.
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Five-star luxury meets up-to-date technology
The five-star Merrion Hotel, which has just opened, is the result of considerable research into customer requirements and nearly two years' work converting four large eighteenth-century houses in Dublin. Creating a new hotel in this way has allowed the latest technology to be installed. This has been done for the benefit of staff and guests alike.
At the Merrion, General Manager Peter MacCann expects his staff to know the guests by name. However, for details of his guests' preferences, he relies on the hotel's computer system. It can deal with return clients in the extra-special way that is appropriate to a five-star hotel.
Though the system cost PS250,000 to install, it will pay itself over time, according to MacCann. He praises its efficiency and talks enthusiastically of the facilities it offers.
For example, a guest who requests certain music CDs during a first stay will find those same CDs ready for him on a return visit. This is thanks to the guest-history facility which allows staff to key in any number of preferences.
Hotel guests the world over frequently complain about room temperature. Another hi-tech system controls this essential area of comfort. Guests have the opportunity to change the temperature themselves within three degrees either side of the normal l8degC but, in addition, each individual room can be adjusted by any amount between 14degC and 25degC at the front desk.
For guests, though, it is the other technology offered in their rooms which is most likely to find favour. This is particularly true for the business user, and MacCann estimates that up to sixty-five per cent of his business will come from this part of the market. To provide the best service for such needs, the hotel has taken the traditional business centre and put it into individual bedrooms. Each one has three phones, two phone lines, a fax machine that doubles as a photocopier and printer, and a video-conferencing facility.
Technology changes so quickly these days that the hotel has had to try to forecast possible improvements. Extra cables have been laid to handle whatever scientific advances may occur. The televisions are rented rather than bought, so that they can be replaced with more up-to- date models at any time. DVD recorders can also be upgraded when necessary.
Despite the presence of all this very up-to-the-minute equipment in the rooms, MacCann says they have tried hard not to make guests feel threatened by technology. The one hundred and forty-five bedrooms, large and well-furnished, are both comfortable and welcoming. There are, of course, a swimming pool and gym, six conference rooms, two bars and two restaurants, and a beautiful garden at the heart of it all.
As at all luxury hotels, the food that is offered to guests must be excellent. Chef Patrick Guilbaud's Dublin restaurant already had two Michelin stars when he agreed to move his restaurant business to the Merrion. Being part of the hotel site has huge benefits, both for him and the hotel itself. He has been able to design a new kitchen and take it into the modern age. There are better parking facilities than at the previous address, too. From the hotel's side, they are able to offer a popular and successful place to eat, with no financial risks attached. Aided by technology and a highly capable staff, the Merrion looks likely to succeed.
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en
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reference
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B2
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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The kingfisher
Wildlife photographer Charlie James is an expert on the kingfisher: a beautiful blue-green bird that lives near streams and rivers,feeding on fish.
Old trees overhang the stream, half shading shallow water. Soft greens, mud browns and the many different yellows of sunlight are the main colours, as soft as the sounds of water in the breeze. The bird cuts like a laser through the scene, straight and fast, a slice of light and motion so striking you almost feel it. It has gone in a split second, but a trace of the image lingers, its power out of proportion to its size.
Charlie James fell in love with kingfishers at an early age. A sure sign of his depth of feeling for this little bird is his inability to identify just what it is that draws him to it. After all, it is the stuff of legend. Greek myth makes the kingfisher a moon goddess who turned into a bird. Another tale tells how the kingfisher flew so high that its upper body took on the blue of the sky,while its underparts were scorched by the sun.
There is some scientific truth in that story. For despite the many different blues that appear in their coats, kingfishers have no blue pigment at all in their feathers. Rather, the structure of their upper feathers scatters light and strongly reflects blue.
This is why a kingfisher may appear to change from bright blue to rich emerald green with only a slight change in the angle at which light falls on it. It's small wonder that some wildlife photographers get so enthusiastic about them. Couple the colours with the fact that kingfishers, though shy of direct human approach, can be easy to watch from a hideout, and you have a recipe for a lifelong passion.
Charlie Jame's first hideout was an old blanket which he put over his head while he waited near a kingfisher's favourite spot. The bird came back within minutes and sat only a metre away. But it took another four years, he reckons, before he got his first decent picture. In the meantime, the European kingfisher had begun to dominate his life. He spent all the time he could by a kingfisher-rich woodland stream.
The trouble was, school cut the time available to be with the birds. So he missed lessons, becoming what he describes as an 'academic failure'. But his interest in this, the world's most widespread kingfisher and the only member of its cosmopolitan family to breed in Europe, was getting noticed.
At 16, he was hired as an advisor for a nature magazine. Work as an assistant to the editor followed, then a gradual move to life as a freelance wildlife film cameraman. What he'd really like to do now is make the ultimate kingfisher film. 'No speech,just beautiful images which say it all,' he says. 'I'm attracted to the simple approach. I like to photograph parts of kingfisher wings ...'
The sentence trails off to nothing. He's thinking of those colours of the bird he's spent more than half his life close to, yet which still excites interest. The photographs succeed in communicating something of his feelings. But, as Charlie knows, there's so much more to his relationship with the kingfisher than his work can ever show.
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20.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B2
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Five-star luxury meets up-to-date technology
The five-star Merrion Hotel, which has just opened, is the result of considerable research into customer requirements and nearly two years' work converting four large eighteenth-century houses in Dublin. Creating a new hotel in this way has allowed the latest technology to be installed. This has been done for the benefit of staff and guests alike.
At the Merrion, General Manager Peter MacCann expects his staff to know the guests by name. However, for details of his guests' preferences, he relies on the hotel's computer system. It can deal with return clients in the extra-special way that is appropriate to a five-star hotel.
Though the system cost PS250,000 to install, it will pay itself over time, according to MacCann. He praises its efficiency and talks enthusiastically of the facilities it offers.
For example, a guest who requests certain music CDs during a first stay will find those same CDs ready for him on a return visit. This is thanks to the guest-history facility which allows staff to key in any number of preferences.
Hotel guests the world over frequently complain about room temperature. Another hi-tech system controls this essential area of comfort. Guests have the opportunity to change the temperature themselves within three degrees either side of the normal l8degC but, in addition, each individual room can be adjusted by any amount between 14degC and 25degC at the front desk.
For guests, though, it is the other technology offered in their rooms which is most likely to find favour. This is particularly true for the business user, and MacCann estimates that up to sixty-five per cent of his business will come from this part of the market. To provide the best service for such needs, the hotel has taken the traditional business centre and put it into individual bedrooms. Each one has three phones, two phone lines, a fax machine that doubles as a photocopier and printer, and a video-conferencing facility.
Technology changes so quickly these days that the hotel has had to try to forecast possible improvements. Extra cables have been laid to handle whatever scientific advances may occur. The televisions are rented rather than bought, so that they can be replaced with more up-to- date models at any time. DVD recorders can also be upgraded when necessary.
Despite the presence of all this very up-to-the-minute equipment in the rooms, MacCann says they have tried hard not to make guests feel threatened by technology. The one hundred and forty-five bedrooms, large and well-furnished, are both comfortable and welcoming. There are, of course, a swimming pool and gym, six conference rooms, two bars and two restaurants, and a beautiful garden at the heart of it all.
As at all luxury hotels, the food that is offered to guests must be excellent. Chef Patrick Guilbaud's Dublin restaurant already had two Michelin stars when he agreed to move his restaurant business to the Merrion. Being part of the hotel site has huge benefits, both for him and the hotel itself. He has been able to design a new kitchen and take it into the modern age. There are better parking facilities than at the previous address, too. From the hotel's side, they are able to offer a popular and successful place to eat, with no financial risks attached. Aided by technology and a highly capable staff, the Merrion looks likely to succeed.
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21.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B2
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Film Critic
Mark Adams looks back over the last ten years of his work as a film critic for a newspaper called The Front Page.
Writing articles about films for The Front Page was my first proper job. Before then I had done bits of reviewing - novels for other newspapers, films for a magazine and anything I was asked to do for the radio. That was how I met Tom Seaton, the first arts editor of The Front Page, who had also written for radio and television. He hired me, but Tom was not primarily a journalist, or he would certainly have been more careful in choosing his staff.
At first, his idea was that a team of critics should take care of the art forms that didn't require specialised knowledge: books, TV, theatre, film and radio. There would be a weekly lunch at which we would make our choices from the artistic material that Tom had decided we should cover, though there would also be guests to make the atmosphere sociable.
It all felt like a bit of a dream at that time: a new newspaper, and I was one of the team. It seemed so unlikely that a paper could be introduced into a crowded market. It seemed just as likely that a millionaire wanted to help me personally, and was pretending to employ me. Such was my lack of self-confidence. In fact, the first time I saw someone reading the newspaper on the London Underground, then turning to a page on which one of my reviews appeared, I didn't know where to look.
Tom's original scheme for a team of critics for the arts never took off. It was a good idea, but we didn't get together as planned and so everything was done by phone. It turned out, too, that the general public out there preferred to associate a reviewer with a single subject area, and so I chose film. Without Tom's initial push, though, we would hardly have come up with the present arrangement, by which I write an extended weekly piece, usually on one film.
The luxury of this way of working suits me well. I wouldn't have been interested in the more standard film critic's role, which involves considering every film that comes out. That's a routine that would make me stale in no time at all. I would soon be sinking into my seat on a Monday morning with the sigh, 'What insulting rubbish must I sit through now?' - a style of sigh that can often be heard in screening rooms around the world.
The space I am given allows me to broaden my argument - or forces me, in an uninteresting week, to make something out of nothing. But what is my role in the public arena? I assume that people choose what films to go to on the basis of the stars, the publicity or the director. There is also such a thing as loyalty to 'type' or its opposite. It can only rarely happen that someone who hates westerns buys a ticket for one after reading a review, or a love story addict avoids a romantic film because of what the papers say.
So if a film review isn't really a consumer guide, what is it? I certainly don't feel I have a responsibility to be 'right' about a movie. Nor do I think there should be a certain number of 'great' and 'bad' films each year. All I have to do is put forward an argument. I'm not a judge, and nor would I want to be.
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en
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cambridge-exams
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B2
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Fun at the Dentist's?
If you walk into W. Lloyd Jerome's dental surgery in the centre of Glasgow, you'll see bright modern paintings on the wall and a fashionable blue couch which patients sit on while he checks their teeth. Jerome says, 'Fifty per cent of the population only go to the dentist when they're in pain rather than attending for regular check- ups. That's because they're frightened.'
To counteract this, he has tried to create an environment where people are not afraid.
That's why I took the decision not to wear a white coat. I find that's one of the things that people associate with pain. In fact, my philosophy is that dental treatment should take place in an atmosphere of relaxation, interest and above all enjoyment.'
Which is all highly shocking for anyone (most of us in fact) who has learnt to associate dental treatment with pain, or at the very least, with formal, clinical visits. Jerome says, 'If people are relaxed, entertained and correctly treated, they will forget such previous negative experiences.'.
Virtual-reality headsets are one of his new relaxation techniques. 'We were the first practice in Britain to introduce them and they're proving very popular. The headsets are used for the initial check-up, where the patient sits comfortably on the blue couch and watches a film about underwater wildlife while I look at their teeth. Then the headset switches to a special camera, to give the patient a visual tour around their mouth.' Surprisingly, most patients seem to enjoy this part of their visit to the dentists.
Another key point is that the surgery smells more like a perfume shop than a dentist's. Today there is the smell of orange. Jerome explains, 'When people walk in, I want them to realise with all their senses that it's not like going to the dentist's. Smell is very important. That dental smell of surgical spirit can get the heart racing in minutes if you're frightened of dentists.' I certainly found the delicate smell in the surgery very pleasant.
Although he is known as Glasgow's most fashionable dentist,Jerome is keen to point out that he takes his work very seriously. The relaxation techniques are important but the quality of the treatment is of course the most important thing.
For example, Jerome uses a special instrument which sprays warm water on the teeth to clean them, rather than scraping them. It feels a bit strange at first, but as long as people are relaxed, it's not painful at all.
Five years ago, Jerome went to the United States to do research into dental techniques. 'One of the things I found out there was that when you make it easier for the patient you make it easier for yourself', he explains. He sees his patient-centred attitude as the start of a gradual movement towards less formality in the conservative British dentistry profession.
At that moment, a patient arrives. Jerome rushes over, offers him a cup of tea (herbal or regular), asks him what video he'd like to watch and leads him gently towards the chair. The patient seems to be enjoying this five-star treatment and no wonder. The surgery seems more like an elegant beauty parlour than a mainstream dental practice.
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Variations on a Theme
If you're thinking of taking children to a theme park, there are dozens to choose from in Britain. We asked five families to test the best.
Fun Island - The Burns family
Last year we went to a huge theme park in the US and we thought that Fun Island might seem dull by comparison. In fact, we were impressed. The park tries hard to cater for younger children, so our three-year-old didn't feel left out. The kids all loved the Crocodile Ride and the Giant Wheel. There's a special dodgems ride for the very young kids, which was a great success. For older children, there are scarier rides, such as Splash Out, where you end up jumping in a pool! After five hours, Steve and I were ready to call it a day, but the children objected because they were having such fun. Our only criticism would be that the park is slightly lacking in atmosphere, and the scenery leaves something to be desired. But the staff are extremely helpful and we felt it was clean, well organised and very security-conscious.
Wonderland - The McMillan family
None of us had been to a theme park before, so we didn't know what to expect. We thought Oscar might be too young, but he adored it. He was in heaven on the Mountain Train, and particularly liked Little Land, with its small replicas of famous buildings that were at his level! The older children enjoyed the ferris wheel, and loved driving the toy cars on a proper road layout. We spent six hours there and were glad that there were places where you could put your feet up. The landscaping is perfect and the staff very helpful and friendly. And there's something for everyone, adults included.
Adventure World - The Jeffree family
After seven hours we felt there was still a lot to see. The children loved the Big Top Circus, which had a fantastic trapeze act and kept us on the edge of our seats. We went on the Terror Line and, although the girls were rather scared and kept their eyes shut most of the time, they said they'd enjoyed it. Their favourite ride was Running River, where you think you're going to get soaked, but you don't. For younger children, Toy Land is great fun. The children had a look at the new ride, Fear Factor, but we breathed a sigh of relief when they found that they were too small to go on it! The park is so well designed that even queuing for rides isn't too boring. It's spotlessly clean, and the staff are great. On one ride I couldn't sit with both girls, so a member of staff offered to go with one of them.
The Great Park - The Langridge family
We arrived at one o'clock and were disappointed that the park was only open until 5 p.m. This is a super theme park for younger children because the rides aren't too terrifying. I'm a real coward but even I enjoyed myself. We all adored Exotic Travels, a boat ride which starts off quite tamely and then becomes terrific fun. We queued for half an hour for Lightning River, and then it was over before we knew it! I wouldn't go on the Big Leap, but if you have the nerve, it looked great. If the children had been a little older, they might have found it a bit tame, but they were all in the right age group and they loved it.
Fantasy World - The Break-all family
According to the park's advertising there is 'No Limit to the Fun', and we certainly felt that was true. Europe's tallest roller-coaster, the Rocket, dominates the skyline, and Ben thought it was the most terrifying of the rides, although Jennie said the Hanger, where you hang upside-down 30 metres above the ground, was even worse! There are a dozen or so main rides, which the older children went on several times. Sarah was too small for a couple of them, but enjoyed the Long Slide. We found the staff attitudes were mixed. Some of them were great with the younger children, but the welcome wasn't always as warm. You need a full day to enjoy Fantasy World. We wouldn't have dared tell the kids we were going home early.
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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An eye for detail
Artist Susan Shepherd is best known for her flower paintings, and the large garden that surrounds her house is the source of many of her subjects. It is full of her favourite flowers, most especially varieties of tulips and poppies. Some of the plants are unruly and seed themselves all over the garden. There is a harmony of colour, shape and structure in the two long flower borders that line the paved path which crosses the garden from east to west. Much of this is due to the previous owners who were keen gardeners, and who left plants that appealed to Susan. She also inherited the gardener, Danny. 'In fact, it was really his garden,' she says. 'We got on very well. At first he would say, "Oh, it's not worth it" to some of the things I wanted to put in, but when I said I wanted to paint them, he recognised what I had in mind.'
Susan prefers to focus on detailed studies of individual plants rather than on the garden as a whole, though she will occasionally paint a group of plants where they are. More usually, she picks them and then takes them up to her studio. 'I don't set the whole thing up at once,' she says. 'I take one flower out and paint it, which might take a few days, and then I bring in another one and build up the painting that way. Sometimes it takes a couple of years to finish.'
Her busiest time of year is spring and early summer, when the tulips are out, followed by the poppies. 'They all come out together, and you're so busy,' she says. But the gradual decaying process is also part of the fascination for her. With tulips, for example, 'you bring them in and put them in water, then leave them for perhaps a day and they each form themselves into different shapes. They open out and are fantastic. When you first put them in a vase, you think they are boring, but they change all the time with twists and turns.'
Susan has always been interested in plants: 'I did botany at school and used to collect wild flowers from all around the countryside,' she says. 'I wasn't particularly interested in gardening then; in fact, I didn't like garden flowers, I thought they looked like the ones made of silk or plastic that were sold in some florists' shops - to me, the only real ones were wild. I was intrigued by the way they managed to flower in really awkward places, like cracks in rocks or on cliff tops.' Nowadays, the garden owes much to plants that originated in far-off lands, though they seem as much at home in her garden as they did in China or the Himalayas. She has a come-what-may attitude to the garden, rather like an affectionate aunt who is quite happy for children to run about undisciplined as long as they don't do any serious damage.
With two forthcoming exhibitions to prepare for, and a ready supply of subject material at her back door, finding time to work in the garden has been difficult recently. She now employs an extra gardener but, despite the need to paint, she knows that, to maintain her connection with her subject matter, 'you have to get your hands dirty'.
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en
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cambridge-exams
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reference
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B2
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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An eye for detail
Artist Susan Shepherd is best known for her flower paintings, and the large garden that surrounds her house is the source of many of her subjects. It is full of her favourite flowers, most especially varieties of tulips and poppies. Some of the plants are unruly and seed themselves all over the garden. There is a harmony of colour, shape and structure in the two long flower borders that line the paved path which crosses the garden from east to west. Much of this is due to the previous owners who were keen gardeners, and who left plants that appealed to Susan. She also inherited the gardener, Danny. 'In fact, it was really his garden,' she says. 'We got on very well. At first he would say, "Oh, it's not worth it" to some of the things I wanted to put in, but when I said I wanted to paint them, he recognised what I had in mind.'
Susan prefers to focus on detailed studies of individual plants rather than on the garden as a whole, though she will occasionally paint a group of plants where they are. More usually, she picks them and then takes them up to her studio. 'I don't set the whole thing up at once,' she says. 'I take one flower out and paint it, which might take a few days, and then I bring in another one and build up the painting that way. Sometimes it takes a couple of years to finish.'
Her busiest time of year is spring and early summer, when the tulips are out, followed by the poppies. 'They all come out together, and you're so busy,' she says. But the gradual decaying process is also part of the fascination for her. With tulips, for example, 'you bring them in and put them in water, then leave them for perhaps a day and they each form themselves into different shapes. They open out and are fantastic. When you first put them in a vase, you think they are boring, but they change all the time with twists and turns.'
Susan has always been interested in plants: 'I did botany at school and used to collect wild flowers from all around the countryside,' she says. 'I wasn't particularly interested in gardening then; in fact, I didn't like garden flowers, I thought they looked like the ones made of silk or plastic that were sold in some florists' shops - to me, the only real ones were wild. I was intrigued by the way they managed to flower in really awkward places, like cracks in rocks or on cliff tops.' Nowadays, the garden owes much to plants that originated in far-off lands, though they seem as much at home in her garden as they did in China or the Himalayas. She has a come-what-may attitude to the garden, rather like an affectionate aunt who is quite happy for children to run about undisciplined as long as they don't do any serious damage.
With two forthcoming exhibitions to prepare for, and a ready supply of subject material at her back door, finding time to work in the garden has been difficult recently. She now employs an extra gardener but, despite the need to paint, she knows that, to maintain her connection with her subject matter, 'you have to get your hands dirty'.
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On the rails
Five celebrities tell Andrew Morgan their favourite memories of railway journeys.
A Andrea Thompson - Newsreader
I fell in love with the south of France a long time ago and try to get back there as often as I can. There's a local train from Cannes along the coast which crosses the border with Italy. It takes you past some of the most amazing seascapes.It never matters what the weather is like, or what time of the year it is, it is always enchanting. Out of the other window are some of the best back gardens and residences in the whole of France. You feel like someone peeping into the property of the rich and famous. The travellers themselves are always lively because there is an interesting mix of tourists and locals, all with different itineraries but all admirers of the breathtaking journey.
Raj Patel - Explorer
I have enjoyed so many rail journeys through the years, but if I had to pick a favourite it would be the Nile Valley Express, which runs across the desert of northern Sudan. The one misfortune in my youth, growing up in South Africa, was missing out on a family train journey from Cape Town to the Kruger National Park. I was regarded as being too young and troublesome and was sent off to an aunt. When I came to live in England as a teenager, I still hadn't travelled by train. London Waterloo was the first real station I ever saw and its great glass dome filled me with wonder.
Betty Cooper - Novelist
I am indebted to one train in particular: the Blue Train, which took my husband and me on our honeymoon across France to catch a boat to Egypt. It was on the train that my husband gave me a pink dress, which I thought was absolutely wonderful. Someone happened to mention that pink was good for the brain, and I've never stopped wearing the colour since. What I remember about the journey itself, however, is how lovely it was to travel through France and then by boat up the Nile to Ll,!XOrI.t was, without a doubt, the perfect way to wind down after all the wedding preparations.
Martin Brown - Journalist
We were working on a series of articles based on a round-the-world trip and had to cross a dessert in an African country. There wasn't a road, so the only way we could continue our journey was to take what was affectionately known as the Desert Express. The timetable was unreliable - we were just given a day. We also heard that, in any case,the driver would often wait for days to depart if he knew there were people still on their way. When it appeared, there was a sudden charge of what seemed like hundreds of people climbing into and onto the carriages - people were even allowed to travel on the roof free. During the night, the train crossed some of the most beautiful landscapes I have ever seen. It was like a dream, like travelling across the moon.
Arisu Mezuki - Actress
I imagine most people's favourite impressions of trains and railways are formed when they are young children, but that's not my case. I was brought up in Singapore and Cyprus, where I saw very few trains, let alone travelled on them. It wasn't until I was a teenager that trains began to dominate my life. I made a film which featured a railway in Yorkshire. Most of the filming took place on an old, disused stretch of the line which had been lovingly maintained by volunteers. That's where my passion for steam trains began. When we weren't filming, we took every opportunity to have a ride on the train, and, when I went back last year, it was as if time had stood still. Everything was still in place, even the gas lights on the station platform!
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Miss Rita Cohen, a tiny, pale-skinned girl who looked half the age of Seymour's daughter, Marie, but claimed to be some six years older, came to his facto1y one day. She was dressed in overalls and ugly big shoes, and a bush of wiry hair framed her pretty face. She was so tiny, so young that he could barely believe that she was at the University of Pennsylvania, doing research into the leather industry in New Jersey for her Master's degree.
Three or four times a year someone either phoned Seymour or wrote to him to ask permission to see his factory, and occasionally he would assist a student by answering questions over the phone or, if the student struck him as especially serious, by offering a brief tour.
Rita Cohen was nearly as small, he thought, as the children from Marie's third-year class, who'd been brought the 50 kilometres from their rural schoolhouse one day, all those years ago, so that Marie's daddy could show them how he made gloves, show them especially Marie's favourite spot, the laying-off table, where, at the end of the process, the men shaped and pressed each and every glove by pulling it carefully down over steam-heated brass hands. The hands were dangerously hot and they were shiny and they stuck straight up from the table in a row, thin-looking, like hands that had been flattened. As a little girl, Marie was captivated by their strangeness and called them the 'pancake hands'.
He heard Rita asking, 'How many pieces come in a shipment?' 'How many? Between twenty and twenty-five thousand.' She continued taking notes as she asked, 'They come direct to your shipping department?'
He liked finding that she was interested in eve1y last detail. 'They come to the tannery. The tannery is a contractor. We buy the material and they make it into the right kind of weather for us to work with. My grandfather and father worked in the tannery right here in town. So did I, for six months, when I started working in the business. Ever been inside a tannery?' 'Not yet.' 'Well, you've got to go to a tannery if you're going to write about leather. I'll set that up for you if you'd like. They're primitive places. The technology has improved things, but what you'll see isn't that different from what you'd have seen hundreds of years ago. Awful work. It's said to be the oldest industry of which remains have been found anywhere. Six-thousand-year-old relics of tanning found somewhere Turkey, I believe. The first clothing was just skins that were tanned by smoking them. I told you it was an interesting subject once you get into it. My father is the leather scholar; he's the one you should be talking to. Start my father off about gloves and he'll talk for two days. That's typical, by the way: glovemen love the trade and everything about it. Tell me, have you ever seen anything being manufactured, Miss Cohen?' 'I can't say I have.' 'Never seen anything made?' 'Saw my mother make a cake when I was a child.'
He laughed. She had made him laugh. An innocent with spirit, eager to learn. His daughter was easily 30 cm taller than Rita Cohen, fair where she was dark, but othenwise Rita Cohen had begun to remind him of Marie. The good-natured intelligence that would just waft out of her and into the house when she came home from school, full of what she'd learned in class. How she remembered everything. Everything neatly taken down in her notebook and memorised overnight.
'I'll tell you what we're going to do. We're going to bring you right through the whole process. Come on. We're going to make you a pair of gloves and you're going to watch them being made from start to finish. What size do you wear?'
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It's true - we're all getting too big for our boots
Chris Greener was fourteen when he told his careers teacher he wanted to join the navy when he left school. 'What do you want to be?' asked the teacher. 'The flagpole on a ship?' The teacher had a point - because Chris, though still only fourteen, was already almost two metres tall. Today, at 228 cm, he is Britain's tallest man.
Every decade, the average height of people in Europe grows another centimetre. Every year, more and more truly big people are born. Intriguingly, this does not mean humanity is producing a new super race. In fact, we are returning to what we were like as cavemen. Only now are we losing the effects of generations of poor diet - with dramatic effects. 'We are only now beginning to fulfil our proper potential,' says palaeontologist Professor Chris Stringer. 'We are becoming Cro-Magnons again - the people who lived on this planet 40,000 years ago.'
For most of human history, our ancestors got their food from a wide variety of sources: women gathered herbs, fruits and berries, while men supplemented these with occasional kills of animals (a way of life still adopted by the world's few remaining tribes of hunter- gatherers). One research study found that they based their diet on 85 different wild plants, for example. Then about 9,000 years ago, agriculture was invented - with devastating consequences. Most of the planet's green places have been gradually taken over by farmers, with the result that just three carbohydrate-rich plants - wheat, rice and maize - provide more than half of the calories consumed by the human race today.
This poor diet has had a disastrous effect on human health and physique. Over the centuries we have lived on soups, porridges and breads that have left us underfed and underdeveloped. In one study in Ohio, scientists discovered that when they began to grow corn, healthy hunter-gatherers were turned into sickly, underweight farmers. Tooth decay increased, as did diseases. Far from being one of the blessings of the New World, corn was a public health disaster, according to some anthropologists.
Nevertheless, from then on agriculture spread because a piece of farmed land could support ten times the number of people who had previously lived off it as hunter-gatherers. The fact that most people relying on this system are poorly nourished and stunted has only recently been tackled, even by the world's wealthier nations. Only in Europe, the US and Japan are diets again reflecting the richness of our ancestors' diets.
As a result, the average man in the US is now 179cm, in Holland 180 cm, and in Japan 177 cm. It is a welcome trend, though not without its own problems. Heights may have risen, but the world has not moved on, it seems. A standard bed-length has remained at 190cm since 1860. Even worse, leg-room in planes and trains seems to have shrunk rather than grown, while clothes manufacturers are constantly having to revise their range of products.
The question is: where will it all end? We cannot grow for ever. We must have some programmed upper limit. But what is it? According to Robert Fogel, of University, it could be as much as 193 cm - and we are likely to reach it some time this century.
However, scientists add one note of qualification. Individuals may be growing taller because of improved nutrition, but as a species we are actually shrinking. During the last ice age, 10,000 years ago, members of the human race were slightly rounder and taller - an evolutionary response to the cold. (Large, round bodies are best at keeping in heat.) Since the climate warmed, we appear to have got slightly thinner and smaller, even when properly fed. And as the planet continues to heat up, we may shrink even further. In other words, the growth of human beings could be offset by global warming.
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It's true - we're all getting too big for our boots
Chris Greener was fourteen when he told his careers teacher he wanted to join the navy when he left school. 'What do you want to be?' asked the teacher. 'The flagpole on a ship?' The teacher had a point - because Chris, though still only fourteen, was already almost two metres tall. Today, at 228 cm, he is Britain's tallest man.
Every decade, the average height of people in Europe grows another centimetre. Every year, more and more truly big people are born. Intriguingly, this does not mean humanity is producing a new super race. In fact, we are returning to what we were like as cavemen. Only now are we losing the effects of generations of poor diet - with dramatic effects. 'We are only now beginning to fulfil our proper potential,' says palaeontologist Professor Chris Stringer. 'We are becoming Cro-Magnons again - the people who lived on this planet 40,000 years ago.'
For most of human history, our ancestors got their food from a wide variety of sources: women gathered herbs, fruits and berries, while men supplemented these with occasional kills of animals (a way of life still adopted by the world's few remaining tribes of hunter- gatherers). One research study found that they based their diet on 85 different wild plants, for example. Then about 9,000 years ago, agriculture was invented - with devastating consequences. Most of the planet's green places have been gradually taken over by farmers, with the result that just three carbohydrate-rich plants - wheat, rice and maize - provide more than half of the calories consumed by the human race today.
This poor diet has had a disastrous effect on human health and physique. Over the centuries we have lived on soups, porridges and breads that have left us underfed and underdeveloped. In one study in Ohio, scientists discovered that when they began to grow corn, healthy hunter-gatherers were turned into sickly, underweight farmers. Tooth decay increased, as did diseases. Far from being one of the blessings of the New World, corn was a public health disaster, according to some anthropologists.
Nevertheless, from then on agriculture spread because a piece of farmed land could support ten times the number of people who had previously lived off it as hunter-gatherers. The fact that most people relying on this system are poorly nourished and stunted has only recently been tackled, even by the world's wealthier nations. Only in Europe, the US and Japan are diets again reflecting the richness of our ancestors' diets.
As a result, the average man in the US is now 179cm, in Holland 180 cm, and in Japan 177 cm. It is a welcome trend, though not without its own problems. Heights may have risen, but the world has not moved on, it seems. A standard bed-length has remained at 190cm since 1860. Even worse, leg-room in planes and trains seems to have shrunk rather than grown, while clothes manufacturers are constantly having to revise their range of products.
The question is: where will it all end? We cannot grow for ever. We must have some programmed upper limit. But what is it? According to Robert Fogel, of University, it could be as much as 193 cm - and we are likely to reach it some time this century.
However, scientists add one note of qualification. Individuals may be growing taller because of improved nutrition, but as a species we are actually shrinking. During the last ice age, 10,000 years ago, members of the human race were slightly rounder and taller - an evolutionary response to the cold. (Large, round bodies are best at keeping in heat.) Since the climate warmed, we appear to have got slightly thinner and smaller, even when properly fed. And as the planet continues to heat up, we may shrink even further. In other words, the growth of human beings could be offset by global warming.
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My line of work
Four people talk about their jobs.
Lisa - Exhibition Programmes Organiser, Science Museum
I'm responsible for putting temporary exhibitions together. This includes planning and designing the exhibition and promoting it. I have to read up about the subject of the exhibition beforehand and then talk to important people in the area so that I can establish the main themes and aims of the exhibition, and plan what objects and pictures should be displayed. I have to make sure the public can understand the thinking behind the exhibition, which means planning interactive displays, workshops and theatre. I also have to bring in engineers and electricians to make sure the final display is not dangerous to visitors. Before the exhibition opens, I help design and write the brochures and leaflets that we'll use to tell people about it.
Janet - Teacher of London Taxi Drivers
The first thing I do when I get here at 7.30 a.m. is check the accounts. Then I see what new maps and documents need to be produced in order to learn the 'runs' or routes necessary to pass the London taxi-driver test. By midday, about 50 students are in school, working out how to make the journeys. They work out the most direct route, using the correct one-way streets, and right- and left- hand turns. I get involved when there's a difference of opinion - like whether you can do a right turn at a particular junction. When they're close to the test, I'll give them a simple route and no matter what way they say they'll go, I'll tell them they have to use another route because the road is closed. The next student will have to find a third route and again I'll come up with a reason why they can't go that way. It's just to make them think.
Sarah - Marine Conservationist
I live by the coast and work from home. This involves responding to telephone enquiries, producing educational resources and setting up training courses. Occasionally, I go into our main office but generally I am on the coast. I also work with schools and study centres and run courses for coastal managers and those involved in making decisions about the fate of the seas.I do things like take them out to sea in a boat in an attempt to make them think more about the life underneath them. This often changes their views as it's very different from making decisions using a computer screen. I am extremely lucky because conservation is my hobby, so the job has many highs for me. The downside of the job is that I work for a charity, so there is a constant need for more money. This means I'm always looking for more resources and I'm not able to achieve everything I want.
Chris - Map and Atlas Publisher
My work is pretty varied. I have to make sure that the publishing programme matches market requirements, and ensure that we keep stocks of 300 or so of the books that we publish. We have very high standards of information and content. We receive many letters from readers on issues such as the representation of international boundaries and these in particular require a careful response. I discuss future projects and current sales with co-publishers. I work as part of an enthusiastic group which makes the job that much more enjoyable. The negative side, as with many jobs, is that there is far too much administration to deal with, which leaves less time to work on the more interesting tasks such as product development and design.
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Gary and Me
The restaurant owner John Moore writes about his relationship with his son Gary, the famous TV chef.
I believe everyone's given a chance in life. My son, Gary, was given his chance with cooking, and my chance was to run a restaurant. When I heard about the opportunity, I rushed over to look at the place. It was in a really bad state. It was perfect for what I had in mind.
Coming into this business made me recall my childhood. I can remember my mother going out to work in a factory and me being so upset because I was left alone. With that in mind, I thought, 'We want time for family life.' My wife dedicated herself to looking after the children and did all my accounts, while I ran the business. We lived over the restaurant in those days, and we always put a lot of emphasis on having meals together. It's paid dividends with our children, Gary and Joe. They're both very confident. Also, from a very early age they would come down and talk to our regular customers. It's given both of them a great start in life.
Gary was quite a lively child when he was really small. We had a corner bath, and when he was about seven he thought he'd jump into it like a swimming pool, and he knocked himself out. When he was older he had to work for pocket money. He started off doing odd jobs and by the age of about ten he was in the kitchen every weekend, so he always had loads of money at school. He had discipline. He used to be up even before me in the morning. If you run a family business, it's for the family, and it was nice to see him helping out.
Gary wasn't very academic, but he shone so much in the kitchen. By the age of 15 he was as good as any of the men working there, and sometimes he was even left in charge. He would produce over a hundred meals, and from then I knew he'd go into catering because he had that flair. So when he came to me and said, 'Dad, I've got to do work experience as part of my course at school,' I sent him to a friend of mine who's got a restaurant.
Gary recently took up playing the drums and now he has his own band. Goodness knows what will happen to the cooking if the music takes off. My advice to Gary would be: if you start chasing two hares, you end up catching neither, so chase the hare you know you're going to catch. He understood when I said to him: 'Gary, if you're going to get anywhere in life, you've got to do it by the age of 30. If you haven't done it by then, it's too late.'
Gary went to catering college at the age of 17, and on his first day he and the other new students -they're normally complete beginners - were given what's supposed to be a morning's work. But within an hour Gary had chopped all his vegetables, sliced all his meats. He'd prepared everything. That's my son for you! In the end, he was helping other people out.
None of us can believe how successful Gary's TV cookery series has become. I'm extremely proud of him. I've always tried to tell him that if you want something, you've got to work jolly hard for it, because no one gives you anything. He's seen the opportunity he's been given and grabbed hold of it with both hands. You know, you talk to your children as they grow up, and if they only take in ten per cent of what you've told them, you've got to be happy with that. The things Gary says, the things he does, I think, well, he must have listened sometimes.
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IN HOT WATER
Rachel Mills is a scientist who spends as much time as she can at the bottom of the
Atlantic Ocean.
Rachel Mills teaches and does research into marine geochemistry, which means she studies the chemical processes happening in the sea. She is a lecturer at the Oceanography Centre at Southampton University. When she isn't teach- ing, she lowers herself into a steel vehicle, a vessel for underwater exploration the size of a small car, and dives three kilometres down into the Atlantic Ocean to study underwater volcanoes.
'Inside,' she says, 'space is so limited that I can reach out and touch the two pilots.'They are used to these conditions, which mean they can't stand up or move, and they must stay inside until someone opens the door from the outside. Adive can last for 16hours - three hours to reach the ocean floor, ten hours gathering samples of rock and water and then three hours to get back up to the surface again.
'If anything happens, and you have a problem and have to get to the top quickly, you can hit a panic button.' The outside drops away leaving a small circular escape vessel that gets released, and it's like letting go of a ping-pong ball in the bath - it goes rapidly to the surface. 'No one's tested it yet, but I don't think it would be a very pleasant journey.'
'I didn't know how I was going to react the first time I climbed into the vehicle. It was on the deck of a ship and I got in with an instructor. He then talked me through the emergency procedures, including what to do if the pilot had a heart attack! They were testing me to see how I would react to being in such a small place.'
Now Rachel has made six dives. Last year she dived with a Russian crew. 'We went to a site which was a five-day sail west of the Canary Islands in the Atlantic. Here, on the ocean floor, is a huge area of underwater volcanoes, their chimneys all blowing out black smoke. It is where the Atlantic Ocean comes Russian team were dropping off some scientific equipment there to discover the effect of a multi-national programme that would make a hole 150 metres through a volcano.'
When she isn't at sea, Rachel is in her office at the Oceanography Centre, Southampton. 'Two thirds of my salary comes from teaching, which I love, but Ido it so I can get on with my research into the "black smokers".' This is just another name for underwater volcanoes - water comes out of the rock and turns into what looks like black smoke. This pours out at a rate of one metre per second and at a temperature of 350 degrees.
'The only time I've been frightened is when I first went down with the Americans. We were towing equipment on a 50-metre rope when suddenly there was an explosion. There was this immense bang as the shock waves hit our vehicle and I thought, "I'm going to die." We stared at each other in silence, waiting. When it didn't happen, we couldn't believe it.
The relief was incredible - we were still alive!'
'It's such an adventure diving down to the deepest part of the ocean. Every time I look out of the porthole and see those chimneys, there is such a sense of wonder. Here I am on the bottom of the sea, and no one else on this planet has ever before seen them. I had
studied the black smokers for three years for my PhD. When I got down there and saw them for real, it was such an amazing feeling.'
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Young Shoppers
Supermarket shopping with children, one mother says, is absolute murder: 'They want everything they see. If it's not the latest sugar- coated breakfast cereal, it's a Disney video or a comic. Usually all three. I can't afford all this stuff and, anyway, if I agree to their demands I feel I've been persuaded against my better judgement and I feel guilty about buying and feeding them rubbish. Yet I hate myself for saying no all the time, and I get cross and defensive in anticipation as we leave home. I do my best to avoid taking them shopping but then I worry that I'm not allowing them to have the experience they need in order to make their own choices. I can't win.'
Research has found that children taken on a supermarket trip make a purchase request every two minutes. More than PS150 million a year is now spent on advertising directly to children, most of it on television. That figure is likely to increase and it is in the supermarket aisles that the investment is most likely to be successful. For children, the reasons behind their parents' decisions about what they can and cannot afford are often unclear, and arguments about how bad sugar is for your teeth are unconvincing when compared with the attractive and emotionally persuasive advertising campaigns.
According to Susan Dibb of the National Food Alliance, 'Most parents are concerned about what they give their children to eat and have ideas about what food is healthy - although those ideas are not always accurate. Obviously, such a dialogue between parents and children is a good thing, because if the only information children are getting about products is from TV advertising, they are getting a very one-sided view. Parents resent the fact that they are competing with the advertising industry and are forced into the position of repeatedly disappointing their children.' The Independent Television Commission, which regulates TV advertising, prohibits advertisers from telling children to ask their parents to buy products. But, as Dibb points out, 'The whole purpose of advertising is to persuade the viewer to buy something. So even if they cannot say, "Tell your mum to buy this product," the intended effect is precisely that.'
A major source of stress for some parents shopping with children is the mental energy required to decide which demands should be agreed to and which should be refused. One mother says she has patience when it comes to discussing food with her children, but she still feels unhappy about the way she manages their shopping demands: 'My son does pay attention to advertisements but he is critical of them. We talk a lot about different products and spend time looking at labels. I've talked about it so much that I've brainwashed him into thinking all adverts are rubbish. We have very little conflict in the supermarket now because the children don't ask for things I won't want to buy.'
Parents also admit they are inconsistent, even hypocritical, in their responses to their children's purchasing requests. Mike, father of a son of seven and a daughter of three, says, 'We refuse to buy him the sweets he wants on the grounds that it's bad for him while we are busy loading the trolley with double cream and chocolate for ourselves. It's enjoyable to buy nice things, and it's quite reasonable that children should want to share that, I suppose. But I still find myself being irritated by their demands. It partly depends on how I feel. If I'm feeling generous and things are going well in my life, I'm more likely to say yes. It's hard to be consistent.'
Supermarkets themselves could do a lot more to ease parent-child conflict by removing sweets from checkout areas or even by providing supervised play areas. Although parents might spend less because their children are not with them, the thought of shopping without your six-year-old's demands would surely attract enough extra customers to more than make up the difference.
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Young Shoppers
Supermarket shopping with children, one mother says, is absolute murder: 'They want everything they see. If it's not the latest sugar- coated breakfast cereal, it's a Disney video or a comic. Usually all three. I can't afford all this stuff and, anyway, if I agree to their demands I feel I've been persuaded against my better judgement and I feel guilty about buying and feeding them rubbish. Yet I hate myself for saying no all the time, and I get cross and defensive in anticipation as we leave home. I do my best to avoid taking them shopping but then I worry that I'm not allowing them to have the experience they need in order to make their own choices. I can't win.'
Research has found that children taken on a supermarket trip make a purchase request every two minutes. More than PS150 million a year is now spent on advertising directly to children, most of it on television. That figure is likely to increase and it is in the supermarket aisles that the investment is most likely to be successful. For children, the reasons behind their parents' decisions about what they can and cannot afford are often unclear, and arguments about how bad sugar is for your teeth are unconvincing when compared with the attractive and emotionally persuasive advertising campaigns.
According to Susan Dibb of the National Food Alliance, 'Most parents are concerned about what they give their children to eat and have ideas about what food is healthy - although those ideas are not always accurate. Obviously, such a dialogue between parents and children is a good thing, because if the only information children are getting about products is from TV advertising, they are getting a very one-sided view. Parents resent the fact that they are competing with the advertising industry and are forced into the position of repeatedly disappointing their children.' The Independent Television Commission, which regulates TV advertising, prohibits advertisers from telling children to ask their parents to buy products. But, as Dibb points out, 'The whole purpose of advertising is to persuade the viewer to buy something. So even if they cannot say, "Tell your mum to buy this product," the intended effect is precisely that.'
A major source of stress for some parents shopping with children is the mental energy required to decide which demands should be agreed to and which should be refused. One mother says she has patience when it comes to discussing food with her children, but she still feels unhappy about the way she manages their shopping demands: 'My son does pay attention to advertisements but he is critical of them. We talk a lot about different products and spend time looking at labels. I've talked about it so much that I've brainwashed him into thinking all adverts are rubbish. We have very little conflict in the supermarket now because the children don't ask for things I won't want to buy.'
Parents also admit they are inconsistent, even hypocritical, in their responses to their children's purchasing requests. Mike, father of a son of seven and a daughter of three, says, 'We refuse to buy him the sweets he wants on the grounds that it's bad for him while we are busy loading the trolley with double cream and chocolate for ourselves. It's enjoyable to buy nice things, and it's quite reasonable that children should want to share that, I suppose. But I still find myself being irritated by their demands. It partly depends on how I feel. If I'm feeling generous and things are going well in my life, I'm more likely to say yes. It's hard to be consistent.'
Supermarkets themselves could do a lot more to ease parent-child conflict by removing sweets from checkout areas or even by providing supervised play areas. Although parents might spend less because their children are not with them, the thought of shopping without your six-year-old's demands would surely attract enough extra customers to more than make up the difference.
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Keeping the holiday-makers happy
A chalet girl's work is never done, Sarah Sutherland-Pilch tells Veronica Lee - in between making beds and delicious dinners.
This is the second year as a chalet girl for Sarah Sutherland-Pilch, a 24-year-old from West Sussex. Known by her nickname, Pilch, Sarah works for a company in Val d'lsere, France, cooking and cleaning for visitors who come to ski and stay in the wooden houses, known as chalets, that are characteristic of the area. Sarah graduated in French and History of Art from Oxford Brookes University last summer. Being a chalet girl isn't a career, she says, but an enjoyable way to spend a year or two before settling down. 'It's a good way to make contacts. I meet successful people every week.'
Sarah does not 'live in'. She gets up at 7 a.m: to walk the mile or so to the chalet, which sleeps up to 18guests each week. She has her own breakfast before preparing that of the guests. 'They get the works - porridge, eggs, cereals, fruit and croissants.' When the last of the guests has had breakfast, by about 9.30 a.m., Sarah clears up and either makes the afternoon tea, which is left for the guests to help themselves to, or cleans the rooms - 'the worst part of the job,' she says.
By about 11 a.m. she is ready to go on the slopes herself. She skis as much as possible. 'On a good day we can be up there until 4.30 p.m.' Sarah returns to the chalet in time to prepare dinner and takes a shower before doing so, but does not sleep. 'It's fatal if you do,' she says. Dinner, a three-course affair, is served at 8 p.m. and coffee is usually on the table by 10 p.m. Sarah clears away the dinner things and fills the dishwasher. 'There's nothing worse than coming in to a messy kitchen the next morning.' Sometimes she will stay and chat with the guests, other times they are content to be left alone. 'Good guests can make a week brilliant - breakfast this morning was great fun - but some weeks, for whatever reason, don't go quite so well.'
Sarah meets her friends in the chalet where she lives - and they go out at about 11 p.m. 'We usually start off in Bananas, might go to G Jay's and perhaps Dick's T-Bar at the end of the evening,' she says. But Sarah never stays out too late on Saturday night as Sunday is her busiest time of the week. 'A frightful day,' she says, 'when you certainly don't want to be cooking breakfast feeling exhausted.'
Work begins earlier than usual on Sunday, since breakfast for guests who are has to be on the table by 7 a.m. As soon as the guests are gone, Sarah starts cleaning madly. 'We just blitz the place - clear the breakfast, strip the beds, get everything ready.' If she hasn't already done the week's shop on Saturday, Sarah does it now.
At around 3 p.m., the cleaning work done, Sarah then prepares tea for the new guests. 'They get here at around 4.30 p.m. Sometimes they are disorientated and full of questions. I'm sure it's the mountain air that does something to them.'
Between tea and dinner, Sarah takes any guests needing boots or skis down to the ski shop and then gets a lift back to the chalet from one of the ski shop staff. It is soon time for dinner duty again and perhaps a chat with friends, but not always. 'Sometimes I'm so tired I just have an early night,' she says.
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A NEW LIFE
The Farmer
Matt Froggatt used to be an insurance agent in the City of London but now runs a sheep farm.
'After 14 years in business, I found that the City had gone from a place which was exciting to work in to a grind - no one was having fun any more. But I hadn't planned to leave for another five or ten years when I was made redundant. It came out of the blue. I didn't get a particularly good pay-off but it was enough to set up the farm with. My break came when I got to know the head chef of a local hotel with one of the top 20 hotel restaurants in the country. Through supplying them, my reputation spread and now I also supply meat through mail order. I'm glad
I'm no longer stuck in the office but it's astonishing how little things have changed for me: the same 80- to 90-hour week and still selling a product.'
The Painter
Ron Able white was a manager in advertising but now makes a living as an artist.
'My painting began as a hobby but I realised I was getting far more excitement out of it than out of working. The decision to take redundancy and to become an artist seemed logical. The career counsellor I talked to was very helpful. I think I was the first person who had ever told him, "I don't want to go back to where I've been." He was astonished because the majority of people in their mid-forties need to get back to work immediately- they need the money. But we had married young and our children didn't need our support. It was a leap into the unknown. We went to the north of England, where we didn't know a soul. It meant leaving all our friends, but we've been lucky in that our friendships have survived the distance - plenty of them come up and visit us now.'
The Haymaker
After working for five years asa company lawyer, Katherine Goodison set up her own business in her London flat, making hats for private clients.
'My job as a lawyer was fun. It was stimulating and I earned a lot of money, but the hours were terrible. I realised I didn't want to become a senior partner in the company, working more and more hours, so I left. A lot of people said I'd get bored, but that has never happened. The secret is to have deadlines. Since it's a fashion-related business,you have the collections, next year's shapes,the season-there's always too much to do, so you have to run a very regimented diary. I feel happier now, and definitely less stressed. There are things I really long for, though, like the social interaction with colleagues. What I love about this job is that I'm totally responsible for the product. If I do a rubbish job, then I'm the one who takes the blame. Of course, you care when you're working for a company, but when your name is all over the promotional material, you care that little bit more.'
The Masseur
Paul Drinkwater worked in finance for 16years before becoming a masseur at the Life Centre in London.
'I had been in financial markets from the age of 22, setting up deals. I liked the adrenaline but I never found the work rewarding. I was nearly made redundant in 1989, but I escaped by resigning and travelling for a year. I spent that year trying to work out what I wanted to do. I was interested in health, so I visited some of the world's best gymnasiums and talked to the owners about how they started up. I knew that to change career I had to get qualifications so I did various courses in massage.Then I was offered part-time work at the Life Centre. I have no regrets. I never used to feel in control, but now I have peace of mind and control of my destiny. That's best of all.'
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A NEW LIFE
The Farmer
Matt Froggatt used to be an insurance agent in the City of London but now runs a sheep farm.
'After 14 years in business, I found that the City had gone from a place which was exciting to work in to a grind - no one was having fun any more. But I hadn't planned to leave for another five or ten years when I was made redundant. It came out of the blue. I didn't get a particularly good pay-off but it was enough to set up the farm with. My break came when I got to know the head chef of a local hotel with one of the top 20 hotel restaurants in the country. Through supplying them, my reputation spread and now I also supply meat through mail order. I'm glad
I'm no longer stuck in the office but it's astonishing how little things have changed for me: the same 80- to 90-hour week and still selling a product.'
The Painter
Ron Able white was a manager in advertising but now makes a living as an artist.
'My painting began as a hobby but I realised I was getting far more excitement out of it than out of working. The decision to take redundancy and to become an artist seemed logical. The career counsellor I talked to was very helpful. I think I was the first person who had ever told him, "I don't want to go back to where I've been." He was astonished because the majority of people in their mid-forties need to get back to work immediately- they need the money. But we had married young and our children didn't need our support. It was a leap into the unknown. We went to the north of England, where we didn't know a soul. It meant leaving all our friends, but we've been lucky in that our friendships have survived the distance - plenty of them come up and visit us now.'
The Haymaker
After working for five years asa company lawyer, Katherine Goodison set up her own business in her London flat, making hats for private clients.
'My job as a lawyer was fun. It was stimulating and I earned a lot of money, but the hours were terrible. I realised I didn't want to become a senior partner in the company, working more and more hours, so I left. A lot of people said I'd get bored, but that has never happened. The secret is to have deadlines. Since it's a fashion-related business,you have the collections, next year's shapes,the season-there's always too much to do, so you have to run a very regimented diary. I feel happier now, and definitely less stressed. There are things I really long for, though, like the social interaction with colleagues. What I love about this job is that I'm totally responsible for the product. If I do a rubbish job, then I'm the one who takes the blame. Of course, you care when you're working for a company, but when your name is all over the promotional material, you care that little bit more.'
The Masseur
Paul Drinkwater worked in finance for 16years before becoming a masseur at the Life Centre in London.
'I had been in financial markets from the age of 22, setting up deals. I liked the adrenaline but I never found the work rewarding. I was nearly made redundant in 1989, but I escaped by resigning and travelling for a year. I spent that year trying to work out what I wanted to do. I was interested in health, so I visited some of the world's best gymnasiums and talked to the owners about how they started up. I knew that to change career I had to get qualifications so I did various courses in massage.Then I was offered part-time work at the Life Centre. I have no regrets. I never used to feel in control, but now I have peace of mind and control of my destiny. That's best of all.'
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There is nothing more disappointing than arriving at an airport overseas to discover that your baggage has been left behind. At best you will have to put up with wearing the clothes you stand up in for hours or days, until the airline reunites you with your luggage. At worst, you may be in a different climate zone, thousands of miles from home and forced to wear wholly unsuitable clothes.
Although airlines rarely reveal how many cases they lose, it is a fact of life that sooner or later regular travellers will be parted from their luggage. Even the best airlines slip up from time to time, and it is impossible for any carrier to guarantee that a passenger's checked luggage will go on the same flight, particularly when a journey calls for one or more changes of aircraft.
The system works like this. Airlines insist on exaggerated check-in times (which require passengers to report to the airport at a given time before departure) designed to allow sufficient time for baggage to pass through the airport and be loaded on to the plane. Minimum connecting times (MCTs) are the shortest time it takes to transfer between two flights. These, too, are exaggerated to allow for baggage transfers.
In normal circumstances the system works well. But extra security checks at airports and problems with air traffic combine to cause delayed flights. All this can cause the baggage system to fail. Then there is the possibility of human error, or an accident in which the destination label is torn off.
These problems can become severe at large transfer airports, known as 'hubs', because of the large number of bags that are processed. Last year, for example, London's Heathrow airport handled more than 41 million passengers, of whom nine million were changing planes. British Airways alone handled two million transfer passengers at Heathrow, with most making the one-mile transfer between Terminal 1 (for Domestic and European
flights) and Terminal 4 (for long-distance flights).
Even efficient transfer airports, such as Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Singapore and Zurich have their bad days. The risk of baggage being lost when changing planes is higher than average at certain airports. Even the United States has problems - Miami airport is well known for luggage going missing when transatlantic passengers make immediate connections for destinations in Latin America.
You should choose direct flights whenever possible and check in well before the official time. If a change of plane is unavoidable, or makes your flight less expensive, then try to fly the same airline throughout. Try to allow more connecting time by taking an earlier flight to the transfer airport, and make sure you label your luggage inside and out with your home and holiday addresses. Don't forget to include the flight numbers.
If, after all this, your luggage still goes missing, you must contact the appropriate airline official in the baggage hall and complete a property irregularity report (PIR). This must be done before leaving the airport.
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A lot of advice is available for college leavers heading for their first job. In this article we consider the move to a second job. We are not concerned with those looking for a second temporary position while hunting for a permanent job. Nor are we concerned with those leaving an unsatisfactory job within the first few weeks. Instead, we will be dealing with those of you taking a real step on the career ladder, choosing a job to fit in with your ambitions now that you have learnt your way around, acquired some skills and have some idea of where you want to go.
What sort of job should you look for? Much depends on your long-term aim. You need to ask yourself whether you want to specialise in a particular field, work your way up to higher levels of responsibility or out of your current employment into a broader field.
Whatever you decide, you should choose your second job very carefully. You should be aiming to stay in it for two to three years.
This job will be studied very carefully when you send your letter of application for your next job. It should show evidence of serious [line 26: beginning] career planning. Most important, it should [line 26: end] extend you, develop you and give you increasing responsibility. Incidentally, if the travel bug is biting, now is the time to pack up and go. You can do temporary work for a while when you return, pick up where you left off and get the second job then. Future potential employers will be relieved to see [line 34: beginning] that you have got it out of your system, and [line 34: end] are not likely to go off again.
Juliette Davidson spent her first year after leaving St. Aldate's College working for three solicitors. It was the perfect first job in that 'OK ... they were very supportive people. I was gently introduced to the work, learnt my way round an office and improved my word processing skills. However, there was no scope for advancement. One day I gave in my notice, bought an air ticket and travelled for a year.'
Juliette now works as a Personal Assistant to Brenda Cleverdon, the Chief Executive of Business in the Community. 'In two and a half years I have become more able and my job has really grown,' she says. 'Right from the beginning my boss was very keen to develop me. My job title is the same as it was when I started but the duties have changed. From mainly typing and telephone work, I have progressed to doing most of the correspondence and budgets. I also have to deal with a variety of queries, coming from chairmen of large companies to people wanting to know how to start their own business. Brenda involves me in all her work but also gives me specific projects to do and events to organise.'
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Bitter water hits the big time
Chocolate, which has its origins in South America, is now part of a multi-million pound worldwide business.
At Easter, British people spend over PS230 million on chocolate. A massive eight per cent of all chocolate is bought at this time.
Only at Christmas do people eat more of the cocoa-based foodstuffs. Although the large-scale industrial production of chocolate began in the last century, the cacao plant was first cultivated by the Aztec, Toltec and Mayan civilisations of Central America over three thousand years ago.
The cacao tree is an evergreen, tropical plant which is found in Africa, South and Central America, the West Indies and South-East Asia. The fruit of this tree is melon-sized and contains 20-40 seeds. When dried they become cacao beans, which can be used to make chocolate. In English-speaking countries, they are often called cocoa beans. This is a misspelling from the 17th century when they were also called cacoa and cocao beans.
The Aztecs used cocoa beans as money. They also used them to make a drink called xocoatl. This is from the word in the Aztec language, Nahuatl, meaning 'bitter water'. In Aztec times the chocolate drink was flavoured with spices and used on ceremonial occasions and for welcoming visitors. The Spanish found the drink more palatable mixed with cinnamon and sugar, but the recipe did not spread to the rest of Europe for another century. In the late 17th century, chocolate houses were set up in Europe's capital cities, where people gathered to drink chocolate.
Until the last century, the chocolate drink was made from solid blocks of chocolate which had to be melted down in hot water. But in 1826, CJ van Houten of the Netherlands invented chocolate powder. This was made by extracting most of the cocoa butter from the crushed beans.
The age of the chocolate bar as we know it began in 1847 when a Bristol company, Fry and Sons, combined cocoa butter with pure chocolate liquor and sugar to produce a solid block that you could eat. A Swiss company then introduced milk solids to the process which gave us milk chocolate.
At the turn of the century, the British chocolate market was dominated by French companies. In 1879 the English company Cadbury even named their Birmingham factory Bournville (ville is the French word for town) in the hope that a little French glamour would rub off. But then came Cadbury's famous Dairy Milk bar which began life as Dairymaid in 1905. Clever advertising which associated it with the healthy qualities of milk from the English countryside quickly established the bar as a rival to the more decadent French brands.
It seems that, for the time being at least, chocolate intake in Britain has stabilised at about four bars each week. This has forced manufacturers to look for new ways to attract customers.
The latest marketing trick is the so-called 'extended line'. This is when the humble chocolate bar becomes an ice cream, a soft drink or a dessert, to tempt chocoholics who have grown tired of conventional snacks.
At the other end of the production process, cacao farmers are still feeling the effects of a crash in cocoa bean prices at the end of the 1980s. As most cacao farmers operate on a very small scale, many were forced out of business. Perhaps you could spare a thought for them as you munch your next chocolate bars.
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No Title
On the very last day of a bad year, I was leaning against a pillar in the Baltimore railway station, waiting to catch the 10.10 to Philadelphia. There were a lot more people waiting than I had expected. That airy, light, clean, polished feeling I generally got in the station had been lost. Elderly couples with matching luggage stuffed the benches, and swarms of college kids littered the floor with their bags.
A grey-haired man was walking around speaking to different strangers one by one. Well-off, you could tell: tanned skin, nice sweater, soft, beige car-coat. He went up to a woman sitting alone and asked her a question. Then he came over to a girl standing near me. She had long blond hair, and I had been thinking I wouldn't mind talking to her myself. The man said, 'Would you by any chance be travelling to Philadelphia?'
'Well, northbound, yes,' she said. 'But to Philadelphia?'
'No, New York, but I'll be ...'
'Thanks, anyway,' he said, and he moved toward the next bench.
Now he had my full attention. 'Ma'am,' I heard him ask an old lady, 'are you travelling to
Philadelphia?' When the woman told him, 'Wilmington,' he didn't say a thing, just marched on down the row to one of the matched-luggage couples. I straightened up from my pillar and drifted closer, looking toward the platform as if I had my mind on the train.
Well, I was going to Philadelphia. He could have asked me. I understood why he didn't, of course.
No doubt, I struck him as unreliable. He just glanced quickly at me and then swerved off toward the bench at the other end of the waiting area. By now he was looking seriously stressed. 'Please!' he said to a woman reading a book. 'Tell me you're going to Philadelphia!'
She lowered her book. She was thirtyish, maybe thirty-five - older than I was, anyhow. A school- teacher sort. 'Philadelphia?' she said. 'Why, yes, I am.'
'Then could I ask you a favour?'
I stopped several feet away and frowned down at my left wrist. (Never mind that I don't own a watch.) Even without looking, I could sense how she went on guard. The man must have sensed it too, because he said, 'Nothing too difficult, I promise!'
They were announcing my train now. People started moving toward Gate E, the older couples hauling their wheeled bags behind them like big pets on leashes. Next I heard the man talking. 'My daughter's flying out this afternoon for a study year abroad, leaving from Philadelphia. So I put her on a train this morning, stopping for groceries afterward, and came home to find my wife in a state. She hardly said "hello" to me. You see my daughter'd forgotten her passport. She'd telephoned home from the station in Philadelphia; didn't know what to do next.'
The woman clucked sympathetically. I'd have kept quiet myself. Waited to find out where he was heading with this.
'So I told her to stay put. Stay right there in the station, I said, and I would get somebody here to carry up her passport.'
A likely story! Why didn't he go himself, if this was such an emergency?
'Why don't you go yourself?' the woman asked him.
'I can't leave my wife alone for that long. She's in a wheelchair.'
This seemed like a pretty poor excuse, if you want my honest opinion. Also, it exceeded the amount of bad luck that one family could expect. I let my eyes wander toward the two of them. The man was holding a packet, not a plain envelope, which would have been the logical choice, but one of those padded envelopes the size of a paperback book. Aha! Padded! So you couldn't feel the contents! And from where I stood, it looked to be stapled shut besides. Watch yourself, lady, I said silently.
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Where I get my energy
Emma Marsden asked six women who live life to the full to tell us how they do it.
A. Jeanette Kupfermann
Journalist and author: 'I think it's excitement. I've got to be doing something that's a challenge. If I'm absorbing something new and learning, I get tremendous energy. Anything to do with rhythm gives me energy, too - at the moment I'm learning flamenco dancing. Dance is wonderful, very expressive and energising. I think you can feel drained if you're bored, maybe feeling life is pointless. Being effective in the world - even in a small way - gives you energy.'
B. Linda Kelsey
Magazine editor: 'I have so much work to do but I enjoy it all - I love being at work, it isn't a chore. If you enjoy something, it doesn't make you feel low even though you may be feeling tired. I need a fair bit of sleep so when I do get it I feel really good. When I'm
running at six hours' sleep a night, I feel a bit wet. I know exercise gives me energy, but it's finding the energy to do it! I do a yoga class once a week before work and I try to do a workout tape at home. But if I've done exercise, my spirits rise amazingly. I get very low patches in the office between 3 and 5 in the afternoon and think it's probably good to eat something then.'
C. Annie Nightingale
Disc jockey: 'I don't eat healthily to get my energy - I think it's natural enthusiasm and being positive. I really can't stand people with negative attitudes. I'm quite naive - I think we should all enjoy our lives, grab the moment. Enjoyment comes first. You've got to achieve things and set yourself various goals. I enjoy what I do and the last two years have been very exciting. In my line of business there are lots of lively young people and you can't help being affected by that. I love tearing around the place on jobs, having a mad life. I'm very sociable. I enjoy taking photographs but I'm not sure if I'm good at it. I rush to get them processed and can't wait to get them back.
I've also started writing words for imaginary songs - it's just for fun and it's a good release for my mind when I'm doing a lot of travelling.'
D. Floella Benjamin
Author and children's TV presenter: 'My energy comes from things I do and enjoy. I believe in what I'm doing, both at work and at home with my family and I think that being positive about life helps. That's why I love working with kids, they give out so much and have an inbuilt resilience. Energy is like a natural chemical, triggered off by communicating with others - just try smiling at people and feel the thrill you get when they smile back. It's far better than feeling sorry for yourself. Although I try to eat healthily and don't smoke or drink, I don't have an exercise plan. The most energetic I get is running around with the kids and playing with them.'
E. Deborah Moggach
Author and playwright: 'What I love doing more than anything in the world is making a garden out of complete wasteland. I did that once. The garden was solid concrete - I smashed up all the concrete and dug in loads of soil. It was far better than any amount of workouts or tennis. The other thing that gives me energy is knowing that somebody wants to read what I'm writing - I find it difficult to write in a void. And I like sneaking into a farmer's land or a wood. If I'm found, I say "Oh, what a wonderful wood, I didn't know it was private property," and so on. I like it because it's childlike.'
F. Katherine Monblot
Therapist: 'I believe you must have an interest in and respect for what you do in life. I like to take risks and I get bored quickly, which keeps me motivated. Doing things you don't want to do wears you out. I used to be a member of various committees and resented the demands they made on my time. You only have a certain amount of energy, so direct it into the things that are most important to you.'
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WELCOME TO THE MODEL VILLAGE
When you first enter the Model Village it is hard to imagine that a few short years ago this was a piece of waste ground, flat and completely overgrown with brambles. For years it had been considered a worthless piece of land. The careful planning and hard work of one man, supported unfailingly by his wife, turned this piece of ground into the masterpiece you see today.
Many thousands of tons of soil and clay were moved during the construction of the village to change a flat site into the sculptured landscape you see today. Although bulldozers and digging machines helped to transform the land, it also involved an enormous amount of hard labour. Once shaped, approximately 1,000 tonnes of top soil were brought in and laid over it to create the lawns, flower-beds and rockeries.
In the creation of the Model Village, hundreds of trees and shrubs were planted. These had to be carefully selected for the area. Only those plants which were able to tolerate the salt-laden atmosphere so close to the sea could be used. They also had to stand up to the severe winter gales in this very exposed position. Most of the plants were provided by local garden centres but some came from as far away as Canada and New Zealand.
The whole village was conceived by Colin Sims and the models, over 100, were individually made by him over a period of nine years from when the village was first opened, in 1972. The models are constructed from a variety of materials - stone, concrete, specially treated wood and plastics - to withstand all kinds of weather. Initially, Colin had to seek considerable assistance from experts who explained to him how various materials would stand up to years of changing weather. But very soon he became an expert himself.
You will soon notice that a constant scale has been strictly adhered to and that attention has been paid to even the smallest detail on the models. This has been achieved by patience and the development of unique construction techniques. The Model Village has proved to be a very popular attraction and is noted for its high standard of workmanship and maintenance. The techniques used to construct such true-to-life models have since been used in other model villages around England and have even been included in some courses at colleges where modelling can be studied.
All model buildings you will see in the village portray traditional British architectural forms and are not based strictly on one particular place or structure. One of the most impressive buildings is the Manor House. This is a typical 13th century stone structure with a brick tower and stone walls. It is based on the style of manor houses commonly found in the West Country. As you walk round the village you will also notice the Castle, St Mary's Church, a zoo and mini golf course, the latter being the most recent addition to the village.
We ask you to keep to the paths during your visit and not to touch any of the models; a slip on your part can result in hours of repair work for us. Photography is allowed from the pathways only. Dogs are welcome on a short lead. To further your enjoyment of the Model Village, you will see buttons mounted in front of some of the working models. Press these and you will make the models operate.
At the end of your visit we would welcome any comments you might have. New models are being planned all the time and any new ideas will help us design a more varied and interesting display. We would also like to know which models, if any, you thought were not up to the standard of the rest of the village. We are continually replacing and updating the models and we need to know which ones require some attention. We hope you enjoy your visit and we look forward to seeing you another day. Don't forget to tell your friends about it.
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HAPPY HUNTING GROUND
We're 'animal people' who enjoy the company of all kinds of creatures. Consider this typical chain of events, leading to total confusion, which began one afternoon. My daughter telephoned me at work with the news that she had found a wonderful pine snake.
'Can we keep him?' she cried. I said 'Yes, but only overnight.' We had set up a special tank for just such passers-through, overnight being long enough to admire and look them up in our well-used natural history book.
I was late getting home. I hurriedly put a pot on to boil just as screams of 'Oh, Mother! Help! Do something!' came from my sons' bedroom. I leapt to it.
The crisis involved Domino the cat and Bianca the white mouse given to me as a Mother's Day present. (I've [line 23: beginning] heard that some mothers get [line 23: end] perfume.) Domino, with mouse feet waving from his jaws, ran round and round the bedroom that was crowded with furniture and children.
Looking for a way out so he could enjoy his catch, Domino had so far avoided the forest of waving arms. I threw myself into the confusion and promptly tripped over something or someone to find myself on the floor.
As I thought about dropping my full weight on Domino when he next came past, my eyes locked on the snake. It had escaped - or, more correctly, was escaping. It was pouring itself up and out and off the table and all over the floor. I crouched like a rabbit at the approach of its bullish head, and long powerful body.
The snake and I were now both being jumped over by cat/mouse/kids in a screaming, leaping, hissing mass - the snake striking at every moment, the dog barking wildly.
The pot boiled over in the kitchen and I raced to shut off the gas, returning to the battle with new strength. This time I successfully captured Domino by the tail, and pulled the small, damp and miraculously uninjured mouse from his growling jaws. Incidentally, the same mouse was caught by the same cat three more times during its lifetime, but eventually died of old age.
[line 60: beginning] Encouraged by my success with the [line 60: end] cat, I looked the snake over for weak points. It didn't have any. In the end, I sat on the floor like a snake-charmer, rocking backwards and forwards, but without a flute. Gradually the snake relaxed enough to drop its head on to its piled-up body, but its eyes still shone with suspicion. I eventually ever-so-slowly eased my hands beneath the piled-up snake and gradually raised myself to a kneeling position, then I stood up and walked to the very end of the garden where I gave the snake the choice of living happily ever after on the garden shed by pointing it in the direction of a handy tree.
But when I finally gathered enough courage to release the snake's head - fully expecting it to swing instantly around to crush my face in its powerful jaws - it slid away from the tree and up over my shoulders where, like a colourful leathery shawl, it gave every sign of making itself comfortable for the winter.
We stood in the gathering dusk, four young children, Mum and the snake. DJ, my eldest, broke the heavy silence with a scientific explanation: 'You know what it is, Mum? You're nice and fat and warm, and the shed isn't.' I had the children gather at the snake's tail end and gently encourage it to move on. Slowly and unwillingly it did so. Without a backward glance, the snake travelled smoothly up the wall to disappear over the now night-shadowed roof.
As the last tiny bit of tail disappeared from our property, three-year old Clay sighed and said it for all of us: 'Boy, that was one big snake!'
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Behind the dolphin's smile
People love dolphins. We rush to look at them in seaside marinas, films and TV programmes. Yet according to the Whale and Dolphin Conservation Society their plight is desperate. Mark Simmonds reports on the decline of the species.
Dolphins hold a special place in our affections. They are among the most intelligent animals we know, they are sensitive to human emotions, and they allow us to dream of wonderful freedom out in the wild seas.
This love affair has been encouraged by TV. First there was Flipper, and now there's Darwin, the star of Seaquest. However, these happy portrayals hide the reality of life for dolphins in the polluted and overfished seas of the
late twentieth century.
The population of North Sea harbour porpoises (one kind of dolphin) is estimated to have been reduced by up to 89,000. You may expect such popular animals to be protected by law and taken care of in special marine reserves. This is not the case, however, and the lack of plans to look after them may become one of the biggest wildlife disasters of our times.
Forty different kinds of dolphins are recognised worldwide. In the waters of northern Europe, the greatest number of dolphins are the striped, the common, the bottlenose dolphins, and the smaller harbour porpoise. The first two generally live far out in the open sea. They are normally seen only in small groups, flashing quickly past ships, and we know very little about them.
The large grey bottlenoses and harbour porpoises, on the other hand, were once a common sight near to European coasts. Bottlenoses are particularly social and used to be found on the Channel coast and in river mouths in Britain, including the Thames. Resident populations can nowadays be found only in the Moray Firth in Scotland and Cardigan Bay in Wales, and the skin injuries found on the few that still remain indicate that they are suffering from stress.
The complicated habits of the dolphins make it difficult to decide on the exact reasons for this reduction in numbers. The overfishing which is dramatically reducing the world's fish stocks and which is threatening to destroy local fishing industries, also threatens porpoises and dolphins. This is because porpoises have to find their food within a limited time. If fish in one area are removed by fishing, they may not survive long enough to find food elsewhere.
They are also in danger of getting caught in fishermen's nets which are thought to be invisible to them. In many modern fishing methods, huge nets are left to float or are pulled at great speed through the sea. In recent years, hundreds of dead dolphins have been washed up on the beaches of France and Cornwall. Marks, ropes and cuts on their bodies show that the main cause of death was the fact that they had been caught by such nets.
Waste and other substances found in the sea can be stored in the bodies of dolphins. One example is what happens with pesticides: these poisons are soluble in fat, which means that the dolphins can digest them and they can build up in their bodies. The females then produce milk that is rich in pesticides, thus passing the poison in a concentrated fashion on to their young. There is already one recorded case of a young dolphin being poisoned and killed by its mother's milk.
But perhaps the most controversial threat to dolphins is the one posed by human disturbance. Dolphins live in groups and receive information about much of their world through sound. In the sea, noise pollution - from ships, oil wells and so on - is transmitted four times more efficiently than in the air. This may disturb the dolphins in ways that we do not yet
understand.
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Careers Advice
You're not happy in your job at the moment, but you don't know how to change? Kitty Doherty gives some good advice.
The answer for more and more people who want to change their job is to turn to a careers adviser. You will be asked to write a brief history of yourself and then sit through a number of tests known as 'psychometrics'. A summary of the findings is then given and various careers are suggested, as well as the possible retraining needed.
I decided to try out Career Analysts, one of the largest organisations giving career advice. Taking the careers test was like being back in my science exams. I was with a group of about ten people and we were answering questions against the clock. I had to remember that it wasn't about passing or failing. It was hard to see how the psychometrics would give an accurate picture of me. They involved things like picking out mistakes in lists of names and numbers and matching up similar shapes in a set.
I then had a long chat with an adviser and from this, plus the results of the test, he produced a report giving his observations and recommendations. I agreed with most of the adviser's conclusions, though I was a little dismayed to find out that I had done quite badly in the scientific, technical and practical tests. I am sure that a lot of sick people are glad that I never became a nurse. It was reassuring, though, to be told that I had made the correct decisions as far as journalism was concerned.
Rethinking your career needn't involve a massive change of direction. Last March, after working as a marketing manager with a large insurance company for five years, Donna Laney, 25, lost her job. Her friends suggested she go to Career Analysts for help. 'Losing my job was the perfect opportunity for me to take a step back and look at my career to date. I wanted to re-examine the skills and interests I have,' says Donna. Some of the results were surprising. 'I hadn't realised that I had such a gift for design. But in the end I had to balance the cost of retraining in design against my financial commitments,' she says. Other suggestions were put forward, such as taking a year off and working in the Far East.
'I decided to use the skills I already had and move into something more suited to me than insurance. I am now working as a Public Relations officer. I am sure I would have got to this point without Career Analysts but they helped me realise, objectively and independently, what I definitely wanted to do. I have sent half a dozen friends there, who are all happy with the service.'
There are those who feel that they definitely would not have got to that point without help. A visit to Career Counselling Services led 26-year-old Juliet Greene to make some life-changing decisions. 'After working for a major bank for six years, I decided my job was dull and I needed a new challenge. I had no idea what I wanted to do so I went to Career Counselling Services with a completely open mind. I took the tests, which showed I was interested in sciences,' she says. 'I had four sessions with an adviser. The third session was taped, which I found very useful, as you forget many of the things you say. After the fourth meeting, having listened carefully to what the results of the tests were telling me, I made the decision that I wanted to do geology and I plan to start a degree course in it later this year. I think that the advice given by Career Counselling Services was well worth the fee. I'm a lot happier now and far more positive.'
However, careers advice doesn't work for everyone. Amanda Margetts, a 24-year-old sales representative, says: 'I had reached a stage in my career where I didn't know where to go. I thought a careers adviser might suggest something I had never thought of. Although I was given a host of new ideas, I rejected them as they either required a substantial drop in salary or considerable retraining. I wasn't told anything about myself that I didn't know/ she says. 'You have to provide the adviser with an enormous amount of personal information and I just felt that if I had told a friend the same thing, they would have given me similar advice.'
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ICE SKATING
Ice skating has a history of thousands of years. Archaeologists have discovered skates made from animal bone. It seems that bone skates were used until the introduction of iron into Scandinavia about the year 200 AD. Among the Scandinavian upper classes, skating was seen as an essential skill.
In the early twentieth century, skating was stylish and reserved, but at the 1924 Winter Olympics, 11- year-old Sonja Henie introduced a more athletic attitude which inspired a new wave of popularity. Nowadays art and athletics are combined and modern skating is both graceful and physically demanding.
For the beginner, balance and control are all important and speed can only increase with proficiency. The position of your body plays a great part in balance. Legs slightly bowed and the knees bent keep the body weight centred; in effect the body leans slightly forward in this position. For skating, probably more than any other sport or recreation, relaxation is vital.
For the starting position, the heels should almost be touching and the feet should be turned outwards. While pushing forward with the back foot, you make a very small movement with the other foot. Fairly easy, isn't it? If you can keep this up for a while, you can then slowly increase the length of your movements as you gain experience.
Knowing how to fall must be learnt among the skater's first skills. Even the best of the professionals fall. In order to fall without injury, you should be as relaxed as possible. In this way the shock of hitting the ice is lessened. To get up, use your hands to get into a kneeling position, then stand.
Once you have learnt to move on the ice with confidence, there are various styles to be practised - figure skating, free style, distance, speed, skating in pairs, and so on - but the basis of them all, and by far the best approach, is first to learn figure skating and then elementary freestyle. With proper guidance available at most of the ice rinks throughout the country, the basic figures can soon be learnt and the turns, jumps and spins of elementary free style will soon follow.
If you look at any good or professional skater, you will see how relaxed they are and how easily they move. To achieve this an exercise programme should be regularly practised. It can be dangerous to skate with a stiff body and warm-up exercises should at least include those for the legs, back and shoulders, with special emphasis on the ankles and the knees. After a long or intense session, the same exercises should be used afterwards to avoid stiffness.
Skating improves balance, co-ordination, relaxation and movement. It improves heart and lung activity and generally strengthens the body. Combined with swimming or jogging, it provides a great programme for all-round health and fitness.
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Why would a schoolgirl want to swim 1500m, cycle 40km and then run 1Okm? Because 'it's fun'.
Teenager with a taste for endurance
WANTED: Sports-mad training partner for triathlete, preferably female. Chance to work with potential Olympic champion. Should be extremely keen on distance running (regular 15km sessions), distance swimming (addiction to winter training in cold rivers useful) and distance cycling (love of 1OOkm an advantage). Ability to do all three without a rest essential.
The triathlon promises to be one of the most popular Olympic sports. Recently it has drawn huge crowds fascinated (and horrified) by athletes swimming 1500m, cycling 40km, then running 1Okm without stopping. Great for those watching, maybe, but what makes the triathletes want to punish their bodies so much? And what makes an attractive 17-year-old, with excellent academic results, give up everything for the doubtful pleasures it offers?
Melanie Sears has not yet learnt those often-repeated phrases about personal satisfaction, mental challenge and higher targets that most athletes automatically use when asked similar questions. 'You swim for 1500m, then run out of the water and jump on your bike, still wet. Of course, then you freeze. When the 40km cycle ride is over, you have to run 1Okm, which is a long way when you're feeling exhausted. But it's great fun, and all worth it in the end,' she says.
Melanie entered her first triathlon at 14. 'I won the junior section - but then I was the only junior taking part. It seemed so easy that I was waving at my team-mates as I went round.' Full of confidence, she entered the National Championships, and although she had the second fastest swim and the fastest run, she came nowhere. 'I was following this man and suddenly we came to the sea. We realised then that we had gone wrong. I ended up cycling 20 kilometres too far. I cried all the way through the running.'
But she did not give up and is determined that she never will. 'Sometimes I wish I could stop, because then the pain would be over, but I am afraid that if I let myself stop just once, I would be [line 35: beginning] tempted to do it again.' Such doggedness draws [line 35: end] admiration from Steve Trew, the sport's director of coaching. 'I've just been testing her fitness,' he says, 'and she worked so hard on the running machine that it finally threw her off and into a wall. She had given it everything, but whereas most people step off when they realise they can't go any further, she just kept on.'
Melanie was top junior in this year's European Triathlon Championships, finishing 13th. 'I was almost as good as the top three in swimming and running, but much slower at cycling. That's why I'm working very hard at it.' She is trying to talk her long-suffering parents, who will carry the PS1,300 cost of her trip to New Zealand for this year's World Championships, into buying a PS2,000 bike ('It's a special deal, with PS1,000 off) so she can try national 25 km and 100 km races later this year.
But there is another price to pay. Her punishing training sessions have made her a bit of a recluse. 'I don't have a social life,' she says. 'I'm not a party animal anyway. After two hours' hard swimming on Friday nights, I just want to go to sleep. But I phone and write to the other girls in the team.' What does she talk about? Boys? Clothes? 'No, what sort of times they are achieving.'
Where will all this single-mindedness end? Melanie has tried other events. She has had a go at the triathlon 'sprint', for example, where you only have to swim 750m, cycle 20km and run 5km. She wants to enter even tougher events than the triathlon. 'The big trouble is, I have no one of my age to train with,' she says. Funny, that.
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Visit to Malaysia
Paul Forster goes to a kite-flying festival, and spends a nervous night in the forest.
Adnan Ali smiled broadly as I presented him with his torn kite. 'You have to keep it,' he said, 'it's traditional - if the line breaks, finders are keepers ... and anyway, I've plenty more.' He indicated a pile of intricately decorated kites at his feet. All were precisely 120cm wide and long, and made of tissue paper and split bamboo.
We sat down next to them in the shade of the whispering coniferous trees that are behind the Beach of the Seven Lagoons in the state of Kelantan, and looked out over Malaysia's biggest and most serious kite festival.
In the centre of the beach stood 10 platforms, where helpers held up the kites, and a row of tense competitors holding the lines of their kites waited for the countdown. On the blast of the whistle, the crowd roared and the kites rose into the air like rockets.
More than 500 men and boys had registered for the competition, which runs for five days every year. Each had entered four different designs which were to be judged on decoration, stability in the air and flying efficiency.
'Flying kites isn't so difficult,' said Adnan, 'but making them takes real skill. Visit me at home and I'll show you how it's done.' The invitation was one of five I'd received that day, and I decided to accept.
Back in his house I drank cold milky tea and ate fish crackers in a large polished room. As dusk fell, he told me to come again the next day to start rebuilding his kite but my plans didn't allow it.
Instead I explored the southern half of the state, pointing my car inland on the road to Kuala Lumpur, into granite mountains dripping with luxuriant rainforest. I took a wrong turning and the smooth road ended suddenly at a river.
A needle-shaped boat was waiting to ferry pedestrians across. Near it, a small sign caught my eye. It pointed up a footpath into the forest and read: 'Jelawang Jungle 3 km.'
Before setting off, it would have been useful to know that nearly all of this distance was uphill, steep and slippery. When I got to the track, however, I found a chap waiting with a flask of tea.
This was Baba, who looked after a tented kitchen and a dozen or so bamboo huts. I decided to stay there, determined not to think twice about insects crawling under my thin foam mattress.
Night was totally black, full of different sounds. A waterfall roared nearby and thousands of living things moved and squeaked. In the morning there was a tremendous view over five ranges of green mountains. In the afternoon it rained.
First wind, then lightning lashed the treetops. Seconds later I was wet through. Sliding downhill, I wondered how the scores of giant butterflies avoided the enormous drops.
Other thoughts included the possibility of my car being swept away (it sometimes happens) and the likelihood of drowning if I opened my mouth. Fortunately the car was still there, covered in mud, at the bottom of the track.
No one is a stranger for long here. Back in Kota Bahru, Kelantan's capital, everyone fired questions at me: 'Where are you from?' 'How old are you?'
But in the asking there was nothing but friendliness. Kelantan might be best known for its kites but I remember it more for its human kindness.
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What sort of shopper are you?
Love it or hate it, we all go shopping. But there are different types of shopper. Do you know which kind you are? Abby Edwards asked around ...
A. Melanie, 22, dancer
I'm an addict - I can't spend enough money! When I have the cash I'm out there and then I don't get miserable. I definitely have difficulty walking past sale signs. My boyfriend's exactly the same, so we often drag each other around the shops. We're an addicted couple!
B. Brenda, 40, office manager
I'm a reluctant shopper. My husband does most of the food shopping because he does the cooking and knows what he likes. I don't spend much time shopping for clothes ... I do take my 6-year-old son and 14-year-old daughter out to get clothes, but I don't enjoy that either, as we all have different tastes. I don't spend money on myself regularly, so when I do splash out I tend to feel guilty and rarely tell my husband how much I've spent - I always knock the price down a bit! The real price always sounds so shocking.
C. Juliet, 28, personnel manager
I only shop for essentials I hate shopping and only go when I really have to. When I do, I know what I want and I won't settle for anything else. I find shopping tiring and there's always something I'd rather be doing.
D. Anita, 35, TV producer
I like a good look round every now and then but I tend to know what I want, and where to find it. I don't waste time and I get in and out as quickly as I can. I do have hidden mistakes at the back of my wardrobe though so maybe I'm a careful shopper who sometimes gets particular purchases wrong!
E. Lizzie, 41, secretary
I don't enjoy shopping in the least. I really dislike shopping for clothes as I can never find what I want, or anyone to help me look for it. The shops are too noisy, everything is disordered and I find it an absolute nightmare. Fortunately, I rarely have to shop for clothes as most of my clothes are given to me. As for food shopping, I go to the local supermarket once a week and get it over and done with quickly!
F. Lisa, 22, actress
I'm probably a happy shopper. Sometimes I'll go out for a look around the shops with my girlfriends - and we'll often end up spending. I don't usually go out with a certain item in mind, but if something catches my eye I'll buy it.
G. Suki, 26, art gallery assistant
I'm a careful shopper - I like going, but I don't really buy very much. I usually know what I want and I seldom go crazy. I do sometimes shop to cheer myself up - but I usually end up feeling much worse because I've spent too much!
H. Ann-Marie, 29, nursery worker
I love shopping - but only on certain days and never on a Saturday, as it's far too busy. I'd say I'm a careful shopper ... I always set off with a fair idea of what I want, and I never snap things up immediately. I have to look in other shops, in case I can find a better bargain - I take ages!
I. Linda, 32, restaurant manager
I'm an unwilling shopper - maybe because I work in the city centre, the shops have lost their attraction for me. When I have to, I'll drag myself out - but I don't bother to try things on, it's far too much trouble. Clothes I buy don't always fit, but I don't mind too much and I'd rather make a few mistakes than have to go into shops and make a lot of effort!
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Father and son start Gold Rush
Terence and Chris Madden have travelled from Canada's frozen north to the heat of Africa in their search for nature's most desired metals. The father and son team - one an explorer, the other a mineral expert - believe their mine on the side of a Welsh mountain could contain up to 10,000 ounces of gold.
After ten years of digging in the Welsh hills, they are convinced that they are just metres away from a five million dollar vein of gold. 'As we dig, we are finding high levels of gold; now we just need to get a few more metres to where it is concentrated,' said Terence, 68, from Liverpool.
The pair have dedicated their lives to the hunt for gold. Their search began after the father read of pockets of gold worth millions of pounds buried in the 'Dolgellau gold belt', an area around the Welsh town of the same name. While reading 19th century mining journals and newspapers at the Welsh National Library in Aberystwyth, father and son chose the most promising area of land to study.
Since they first cleared away the undergrowth and found bits of gold in the rocks, they have spent the past ten years getting permission for their work from the owners, taking samples of the earth and removing old cars and rubbish. They then set about digging out 150 tonnes of greenstone rock to form a tunnel and a 10-metre shaft.
Now they are running short of money. Having spent their savings chasing their dream, they will have to convince a backer to put PS50,000into the project to lower the mine just a few more metres to where the gold lies. Chris Madden says, 'At the moment, this looks doubtful although we've got quite a few people we can contact.'
As word spread through the valleys last week about the dig, the magic attraction of gold started turning the heads of the inhabitants as well as the gold diggers. Dolgellau relies on tourists, and residents are cautiously hopeful. 'It would encourage more people to come here if they are right,' said Peter Woolven, manager of the Royal Ship Hotel, 'but if these two find gold I hope millions of people are not going to come and hack away at the hillside.'
The Welsh gold industry has gone into steep decline since its height in the late 1880s, when thousands were employed in hundreds of mines dotted around the countryside. One of the last remaining mines at Clogau-St David's, which produced wedding rings for the Queen and the Princess of Wales, closed a month ago.
Now, however, individual gold-diggers are returning. George Hall, another prospector, plans to drive a tunnel deep into the hill on the other side of the ridge from the Maddens. 'Searching for gold is very emotional,' said Hall, 70. 'It's adventurous and exciting, the wonder of uncovering hidden treasure. Maybe I'll be lucky this time.'
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Onto a winner
Two brothers are finding that their childhood game is very good for business.
Dave and Norm Lagasse, two bushy-bearded brothers in their forties, are sitting in their modest home in Santa Fe in New Mexico, USA, and reliving their childhood. In front of them lies a wooden board covered in round plastic pieces. They are playing the ancient game of pichenotte, one which, they insist, is unlike any other.
Their grandfather, Lucien Rajotte, a grocer originally from Quebec, Canada, brought the game into the USA and introduced it to his family. It wasn't long before, on just about every weekend and holiday, the family were playing the game and, as Dave says, 'having the best time ever'. Eventually, the family moved to New Mexico. But Grandpa's pichenotte board, which he'd made out of old wooden food crates, was not forgotten and they continued to play regularly. If visitors dropped by they were often fascinated, for the game was completely unknown in southern USA.
One day, three years ago, Dave set up the ancient pichenotte board and, realising how cracked and battered it had become, decided to make a new one. This turned out to be a beauty. A relative noticed and wanted one. Then a friend wanted another. Curious as to how great the interest might be, one night the brothers took one of Dave's new game boards to a sports bar in Santa Fe. 'People there started to watch,' says Dave, 'and say, "No way I'm playing that silly game." Then they'd sit down, and pretty soon you couldn't them up from the table!'
When people started asking about the origins of the game, Dave decided to do some research. The roots, he discovered, were probably in India, where a similar game called 'carroms' exists. That was adapted into a game called 'squails' which was played in pubs in Britain and, a century ago, British people emigrating to Canada brought the game with them. Pichenotte is the name of the French-Canadian version of the game that developed in Quebec.
Pichenotte, which can be played by two to four people, is clearly a game of skill. Each competitor gets 12 pieces or 'pucks'. These are 'flicked' across a wheel-like board using the middle or index finger of one hand. Flicking a puck into a small hole is worth 20 points. Three concentric rings around the hole are worth 15, 10 and 5, respectively. Eight tiny posts present obstacles. The game usually lasts just two minutes.
When they saw how popular the game was at the Santa Fe bar, the Lagasses made a couple more boards and took them to markets and craft fairs. Crowds gathered, money changed hands and the game's popularity grew. So much so that championships began to take place and a trophy called the 'Lord Pichenotte Cup' was created. With word spreading more widely, the boards began to sell as fast as the brothers could make them. Eventually, they decided to go into the pichenotte business full-time.
They set up a workshop in the garage of their house and started turning out boards. More than 450 have been produced to date. Made of birchwood and mahogany, each weighs 12kg and is lcm thick. As Norm explains, 'They're very durable, as they have to stand up to lots of wear.' They are available, at $595 each, from the brothers' website.
As yet, there are no professional pichenotte players or TV coverage to produce pichenotte celebrities. Nonetheless, the day is not far off when the brothers' garage will be home to a luxury Mercedes rather than a saw and piles of wood. Until then, they're happy to spend their off-duty hours playing the game they hope will make their fortune.
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SPECIALIST MUSIC SCHOOLS
How to cope with a child who shows outstanding musical ability? It's not always clear how best to develop and encourage their gift. Many parents may even fail to recognise and respond to their child's need until frustration explodes into difficult or uncooperative behaviour. And while most schools are equipped to deal with children who are especially able in academic subjects, the musically gifted require special understanding which may not always be available in an ordinary school - especially one where music is regarded as a secondary activity. Such children - as well as those whose ability is actively encouraged by parents or teachers - may well benefit from the education offered by a specialist music school.
The five music schools in Britain are a relatively recent introduction. They aim to provide a
sympathetic environment in which gifted children aged between seven and eighteen can develop their skills to the full under the guidance of professional musicians.
Children at specialist music schools spend between one third and one half of an average day on musical activities, for example, individual lessons (up to three hours a week on first and second instruments), orchestras, chamber groups, voice training, conducting and theory. They also spend several hours a day practising in properly equipped private rooms, sometimes with a teacher. The rest of their time is taken up with a restricted academic programme, which tends to concentrate on the essential subjects - English, maths, basic sciences and languages - although provision can be made for students who wish to study a wider range of subjects. All five British specialist schools are independent, classes are small by normal school standards, with a high teacher/pupil ratio. Most children attending specialist schools tend to be boarders, leaving home to live, eat and sleep full-time at school. This means they spend their formative years in the company of others with similar aims and interests.
What are the disadvantages? An obvious problem is the cost; the fees are high (PS12,000-PS17,000 a year for boarders). However, each school will make every effort with scholarships and other forms of financial assistance, to help parents of outstandingly gifted children to find the necessary fees. Secondly, not all parents want to send their children to boarding school, specially at a very early age. Almost all the directors of the specialist schools express doubts about the wisdom of admitting children as young as seven into such an intense and disciplined environment. They stress, however, that their main aim is to turn out 'rounded and well-balanced individuals'.
There is little doubt that setting musically gifted children apart from an early age can cause stress. Early signs of musical ability may disappear in teenage years, while natural competitiveness and the pressure to succeed can lead to a crushing sense of failure. But all specialist schools do keep a close watch on the progress of individual pupils, and offer help and advice if needed.
In addition, while most former pupils at music school feel that they benefited enormously from the range of high-quality music teaching available, many express reservations about the wisdom of restricting the academic programme, which definitely takes second place to musical activities. Many musically gifted young people are also highly intelligent, well able to deal with academic pressure, and feel frustrated if their intellectual needs are not met. For these reasons, it may be better to wait until the child is old enough to be able to make his or her own decisions before considering a specialist education.
Those who are equally gifted academically may do very well within a less specialised environment; for instance, at a school with a first class music department, or else by combining a normal school routine with musical training at one of the junior departments at the music colleges. These colleges offer Saturday morning opportunities for individual lessons with fine teachers, plus orchestral and chamber music experience. But this option is clearly not practicable for families living out of reach of London or other major centres.
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GETTING FIT
Exercise is essential for mind, body and spirit. It's one of the best ways to maintain a perfect balance when all around you everything seems more and more unbalanced and the world becomes ever more fast and furious.
Don't groan because this is yet another article about fitness. The reason why there are so many is that it is seriously good for you. There are plenty of reasons why you should exercise and very few - for most of us why you shouldn't. Exercise improves muscle tone and provides quick changes in body shape. It improves muscle power and promotes good posture - the way in which you hold your body when sitting or standing. It helps prevent those muscle imbalances which can lead to injuries. It provides quick improvement in specific problem areas such as thighs, stomach and upper arms. It improves the condition of the heart and lungs and blood circulation.
Probably all these reasons have been thrown at you time and time again, so maybe you are bored by them and have switched off. All right then, this should make you sit up and take notice. Did you know that exercise helps to ease depression and tiredness, and that it helps to regulate sleep patterns? Also that exercise is instrumental in controlling stress? Not only this, but exercise can help to relieve certain medical conditions.
By now you should be influenced a little by these arguments. If not, common sense alone should tell you that exercise is good for you.
There are plenty of types of exercise you can do aerobics, calisthenics, jogging, working out with free weights, working on weight machines. There is one point you should note - training too hard and with too much weight may cause injury, so start slowly and carefully. If you're not sure, you should consult your doctor on what's good for you personally.
No amount of exercise will improve your body shape if you don't have good posture. This practically determines how you look and feel. Not only is a stiff or sagging body unattractive, it also lacks energy and is more likely to suffer from minor health complaints.
If your body tends to slouch, imagine that the top of your head is connected to a helium balloon, which is trying to pull you up into the sky. This will help you to lift the chest for fuller and easier breathing. At the same time, it lengthens the abdomen, making the body look much slimmer. If the chest is well balanced when you are standing, you can see your ankles.
Stretching the muscles improves flexibility and ease of movement, and helps you to maintain correct posture and to prevent muscle tears and injuries caused by overuse. If done four or five times a week, it will guarantee a more flexible,fitter body. So stretching should play an important part in your exercise routine, which should be performed both slowly and precisely.
The best exercise, therefore, involves a good warm-up, stretching exercises, an energetic workout and definitely a cool down period.
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Food for all
We proudly present our own hand-picked special selection of the very best cookbook titles now on offer.
A.
Ask anyone to think of a famous TV cook and writer, and it's frequently Delia Smith's name that comes to mind. Her recipes come from all over the world each marked by her enthusiasm for exciting food, plus her straightforward appreciation of what the average cook can do in the average kitchen. The book that established her reputation is Delia Smith's Complete Cookery Course, which has now become the kitchen reference book for the modern cook. Along with simple, but expert, guidance on all aspects of basic and more advanced cookery, Delia mixes her advice with hundreds of superb recipes that are anything but boring. Recently revised, it's more than ever the book that answers the question: 'If I could only have one cookbook, which would it be?'
B.
It took Raymond Blanc just 15 years to move from amateur, untrained chef to chef/owner of the most famous French restaurant in Britain. Now, to accompany his first TV series, Blanc Mange, comes the book of the same name. Raymond wants to teach us all to be better cooks by demonstrating how and why certain ingredients react in certain ways. Good cooking is easy, in his view, when you really understand what's going on in the pan. Over 80 amazing recipes demonstrate exactly what he means. It's a very practical reference book, which is not above explaining why certain dishes can go wrong and introducing some basic food chemistry to clarify the points made. Monsieur Blanc loves to cook to entertain and, as this book proves, he's very, very good at it.
C.
Le Cordon Bleu, three words which make you think of all that is best in classical French cooking. Over the past 100 years, the expert chefs of this most famous cooking school have trained all levels of students to achieve perfection. Now, to celebrate the school's impressive hundredth anniversary, comes this equally impressive new book, Le Cordon Bleu Classic French Cookbook, which contains 100 of the school's most respected recipes. Although the recipes in the book are all classics, they're all still remarkably fresh. While Le Cordon Bleu has always carried the flag for traditional French cooking, it has also moved away from rich, creamy sauces and altered its approach to cut down on the killer calories. Starting with a chapter on the basics of sound kitchen procedure, the book follows it up with Appetisers and Starters, Main dishes and, finally, Desserts. Throughout, the recipes are illustrated with step-by-step illustrations plus wonderful shots of the finished dishes. Expert chefs from Cordon Bleu schools around the world have each selected a recipe for which they are
famous, and shared their secrets with the reader.
D.
Fast food? Oh yuk! Surely it's accepted wisdom that good food means a long period of suffering in front of the cooker? Well, Nigel Slater, food editor of The Observer, doesn't think so as his new book, The 30-Minute Cook, will prove. Fast food, as Nigel says, 'is just what the world wants when it comes home tired and hungry and demanding something good to eat at once.' He's always believed it's perfectly possible to create something tasty in the time it takes to deliver a pizza, and he has already written two very successful books to prove it. In this great new book you'll find more enticing recipes, and each hits the table just 30 minutes after the word 'go'. Nigel has written down, in his jolly and enjoyable style, more than 200 recipes from around the world. Just because he likes his food fast, it doesn't mean this bright young writer doesn't appreciate good food. If you don't believe fast food can be great food, try his recipes: they're simply delicious.
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Looking after the countryside
THE NATIONAL TRUST
The National Trust is an organisation whose aim is to conserve the British countryside. Gill Page visits the Lleyn Peninsula in North Wales and talks to one of the wardens employed by the Trust to look after the beautiful areas it owns.
Common sense. That's what a National Trust Warden needs, according to Gareth Roberts. 'And you definitely need to be good at handling people, because you're continually dealing with farmers, visitors, conservationists and building firms.'
Gareth was born and bred on the Lleyn Peninsula and worked on his parents' farm until he married. About 80 people applied for the post as National Trust Warden for the Lleyn Peninsula. In the end, Gareth's local knowledge and farming experience won him the job, despite his lack of formal training.
'I find it particularly helpful that I still farm with my parents and that I can deal with farmers on the same level and be aware of their problems. Also, they can't take me in about anything!' he says. His farming life also means he is well able to cope with the physical demands of the job - erecting fences, planting trees, building walls.
Since he has been with the Trust, Gareth says he has come to understand more about nature conservation. 'When I was a youngster,' he recalls, 'I used to pick and press flowers, collect butterfly larvae and old birds' nests. And I thought to myself recently, where would I find all those flowers, the birds' nests, the grasshoppers now? It's really become clear to me that farming has affected the countryside. It's not the farmers' fault - they were just doing what the government told them.'
Gareth says that, when he started his job, farmers and conservationists were set against each other. Both sides wanted things done their way.Now they are talking and can see each other's point of view. 'We're at the crossroads and there's just a small step needed to join them together,' says Gareth.
Conservation is one of the main aspects of Gareth's work, along with public entry to the Trust's land, tree planting and maintenance, and meeting the Trust's tenant farmers. 'My role is to make sure jobs get finished, with as little fuss and as economically as possible. What I enjoy most is seeing projects completed, although about half my time is spent on reports, signing bills and so on.'
Gareth is certainly keen on his job and despite never being off duty, he obviously enjoys every minute of his work, especially talking to the public. Most of them, anyway. 'It's the attitude of some people I dislike,' he admits. 'They just walk into the area, demand everything, then walk out again as if it's their absolute right. Having to be nice to those people gets on my nerves!'
But as Gareth says, it's all down to common sense really.So if you've got plenty of that, and you like the idea of an outdoor job, you might think of applying to become a warden like Gareth - but don't expect a job to be available on the Lleyn Peninsula for a good many years!
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Careless tourists scar ancient alpine rock art
Tens of thousands of ancient pictures carved into the rocks at one of France's most important tourist sites are being gradually destroyed. Scientists and researchers fear that the 36,000 drawings on rocks in Mont Bego in the French Alps are being damaged so [line 6: beginning] rapidly that they will not survive for future generations. [line 6: end]
The mountain, believed to have once been a site for prayer and worship, is scattered with 4,000-year-old drawings cut into bare rock. They include pictures of cows with horns, cultivated fields and various gods and goddesses. But as the popularity of the site increases, the pictures are being ruined by thoughtless graffiti.
Jean Clottes is the chairman of the International Committee on Rock Art. He says, 'People think that because the pictures have been there so long they will always continue to be there. But if the damage continues at this rate there will be nothing left in 50 years.'
He describes seeing tourists stamping on the drawings, wearing away the rock and definition of the artwork as they do so. Some visitors, he says, even chop off parts to take home as souvenirs.
'When people think they can't take a good enough photograph, they rub the drawings to get a clearer picture: he said. 'The drawings are polished by the weather, and if the sun is shining and the visitors can't see them properly they simply rub and scrape them to make them look fresher.'
Other researchers describe how people arrive carrying long sticks with sharp ends to scratch their own drawings,or even their names, in the rocks.
But experts are divided over the best way to preserve the drawings.Henry de Lumley,director of the Museum of Natural History in Paris, believes that the only way to save the site is to turn the whole mountain into a 'no-go' area, preventing the public from going there except on guided tours. Otherwise, he says,not only will the site be completely destroyed but important research work will be reduced.
Clottes disagrees. 'The measure proposed by Henry de Lumley is the most severe, and while it is the most effective, it is also certain to bring about protests from people who live there,' he said. 'The site was classified as a historic monument years ago by the Ministry of Culture, and we must do as much as possible to save what is there.'
David Lavergne,the regional architect, also wants to avoid closing the site. 'Henry de Lumley's idea isn't ideal,' he said. 'Our department feels that the best solution is to let people look at the site, but because the area is very big it is difficult to prevent visitors from damaging it. I would prefer that everyone was able to look at it, but the main problem is financial. We do not have the funds to employ the necessary number of guards. We may have to consider charging a fee. There seems to be no prospect of government funding.'
In Nice, Annie Echassoux, who also worked on researching the site, is alarmed that as the mountain becomes easier to reach - tourists can now avoid the three-and-a-half-hour walk by hiring vehicles - the damage will increase rapidly.She thinks that the only solution is to rope off the area and provide guides.'You can't say the plan can't go ahead because there is no money: she said. 'That is not good enough. Money must be provided because the Ministry of Culture has classified this area as a historic site. If we don't take steps, we will be responsible for losing the drawings for the next generation.'
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The Netball Captain
In our series on women in sport, Suzie Ellis went to meet England's netball captain.
Kendra Slowinski is captain of England's netball team. When I met her, she'd had a typical day for the weeks leading up to next month's World Championships: a day's teaching at a local school followed by a training session in the local supermarket car park. 'Don't you get strange looks?' I asked her.
'I'm too involved in what I'm doing - concentrating on my movements and my feet - to see anything else. I might notice cars slow down out of the corner of my eye, but that's all.' 'My whole life now is all about making sure I'm at my absolute best for the Championships,' says Kendra.
'I'm on a strict timetable to gain maximum fitness for them.' These are her fourth World Championships and they are guaranteed to be the biggest ever, with 27 nations taking part.
'We'll have home support behind us, which is so special,' she says. 'And it's important that the reputation of netball in this country should be improved. As a result of playing here, there will be more pressure than we're used to. A home crowd will have expectations and give more support. People will expect us to start the tournament with a good game.'
Their first game is against Barbados and it comes immediately after the
opening ceremony.
'As far as I'm aware, we have always beaten them, but they'll be exciting to play. They have lots of ability.'
The England team are currently ranked fourth in the world. But, as Kendra points out, the World Championships will be tough. 'You have to push yourself to play each day, there's no rest between games as in a series. And you can still win an international series if you lose the first game. But the Championships are different because there's only one chance and you have to be ready to make the most of it.'
In the fifteen years since she has been playing at top level, the sport has become harder, faster. On court, players are more aggressive. 'You don't do all that training not to come out a winner,' says Kendra.
'But once the final whistle blows, you become a different person. We're all friendlier after the game.'
Netball is also taking a far more scientific approach to fitness testing.
'It is essential that we all think and train like world-class players,' says Kendra. 'As captain, I think it's important that I have a strong mental attitude and lead by example. I see my role as supporting and encouraging the rest of the team.'
'From the very beginning, my netball career has always been carefully planned,' she says. 'So I took the decision some time ago that this competition would be the end of it as far as playing is concerned. '
Doubtless she will coach young players in the future, but at the moment her eyes are firmly set on her last big event. As she leads out her team in the opening candlelight ceremony, she is more than likely to have a tear in her eye.
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Interview Tips
First impressions are often lasting ones. Studies show that people form impressions about us within the first few minutes of meeting. They observe how we dress, our eye contact, our body movement and how fast or slowly we talk, our volume and tone of voice as well as our our actual words.
Mary Pearce studied to be a teacher. She says, 'I worked hard to earn my degree. When I finally graduated I was very confident.' She applied for a job at a nearby primary school and got an interview with the Head Teacher.'I noticed a small hole in my jacket that morning,' she recalls. 'I would have changed, but I knew it would make me late, and I always think it's important to be on time.' Mary didn't get the job. In fact, one of her friends who also teaches at the school told her the Head Teacher's only comment was, 'If someone doesn't take the time to present her best image at an interview, what kind of teacher is she going to be?'
As Simon Grant, hotel manager, says: 'Interviewees who look as if they care about themselves are more likely to care about their jobs. People think it's
what's inside that counts, but in an interview you should aim to come across in the best possible way.'
Yet many people ignore the importance of having a professional image. For example, Janet Goodwood worked for ten years as an administrative assistant in a large accounting firm. When the office manager retired, she applied for
the position but wasn't even given an interview. 'I thought it was a mistake so I asked the Director of Personnel what had happened,' she says. 'He told me I didn't fit the image of an office manager. He suggested I improve my wardrobe before I applied again for promotion. I was shocked. I do a very good job and the way I dress shouldn't make any difference.'
Movement and gestures will also influence an interviewer's first impression of a candidate. Psychologist Albert Mehrabian has discovered that 7% of any message about our feelings and attitudes comes from the words we use, 38% from voice and a surprising 55% from our facial expressions. When our facial expressions and our words send different messages the listener will put more weight on the non-verbal message. So make sure your words agree with your body language. Mixed messages will only confuse the interviewer.
It is also important not to appear too desperate for the job or too eager to please. When Sheila Rice, a marketing specialist, applied for a promotion her interview went so well she was offered the job on the spot. 'I was delighted,' she recalls. 'But I reacted to the offer with too much enthusiasm. Once the boss sensed how excited I was, he knew I wasn't going to turn him down. Consequently, he offered me a lower salary than I'd hoped for. I'm sure I could have got more had I managed to control my excitement.'
Finally, a consideration of what we say and how we say it will contribute to the success of an interview. David Artesio, the manager of an employment agency, suggests that it's a good idea to inform yourself about the company before you go for an interview. 'The annual report, for example, will tell you about areas of company involvement. Mention an area that interests you during the interview. This will give a positive note and convince others of your interest in the company.'
Businessconsultant Marian Woodall suggests you have a few questions ready and avoid speaking in long, confused sentences. As she puts it, 'Poor communicators talk in paragraphs. Successful communicators talk in short sentences and even in highlighted points.'
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Studio Audiences
What's it like to be in the audience when a television programme is being made? Cosmo Landesman found out.
Like technical difficulties,studio audiences are just another common feature of television life,and yet to many of us they remain a mystery. Watching them getting excited on game shows, for example, we sit back and ask ourselves - just who are these people?
Of all the audiences for live entertainment, the studio variety is widely considered to be the lowest of the low. I have heard it said that even people who work in television treat studio audiences with scorn - or, as one cameraman put it,'like cattle'.
I had assumed that studio audiences were made up of silly people desperate for two seconds of fame. But there's no such thing as a typical studio audience. They come from all classes, professions and income groups. Television tries to attract different types of people for different types of programme.
Those of us who prefer to watch television from home can't see why anyone would want to watch television from a studio. Why would anyone bother to apply for tickets, travel long distances, and suffer hours of boredom in the discomfort of a studio just to watch what they can see at home?
One theory is that people hope that for a second they might appear on television. I didn't believe this until I spoke to Angela: 'Why had she come?' It was a chance to appear on television.' Another theory is that people are curious to take a look behind the scenes. But the most common explanation I heard was simply a case of 'a friend gave me a ticket'.
Few of us have ever sat in a studio audience, yet we think we can imagine what it is like. You sit there, squashed among strangers, while someone flashes cards with APPLAUD or LAUGH on them - and you clap or laugh accordingly. This may reflect the reality of some television, but not all by any means. As one studio manager puts it, 'We always assume a show will be good enough not to need these signs.'
But is there any real difference between what you experience in a studio and what you see on your television at home? For Claire, sitting in a studio is 'more exciting', while Charlotte liked the feeling of involvement with live television. 'Last year I saw my favourite comedian. When you see him on television at home you miss out on a lot.'
What I missed out on was the sight of live actors - from where I was sitting all I could see was the back of somebody's head. The opening scenes were shot so far from where I sat that I ended up watching the show on a studio monitor. Going to a studio may be a terrible way to watch television, but that's not what's important. For most of the audience it was simply fun and a free night of entertainment.
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I was dirty, smelly, hungry and somewhere beneath all that, suntanned. It was the end Inter-Rail holiday. My body couldn't take any more punishment. My mind couldn't deal with any more foreign timetables, currencies or languages.
'Never again,' I said, as I stepped onto home ground. I said exactly the same thing the following year. And the next. All I had to do was buy one train ticket and, because I was under twenty-five years old, I could spend a whole month going anywhere I wanted in Europe. Ordinary beds are never the same once you've learnt to sleep in the corridor of a train, the rhythm rocking you into a deep sleep.
Carrying all your possessions on your back in a rucksack makes you have a very basic approach to travel, and encourages incredible wastefulness that can lead to burning socks that have become too [line 10: beginning] anti-social, and getting rid of books when finished. On the other hand, this way of looking at life line 10: end] is entirely in the spirit of Inter-Rail, for common sense and reasoning can be thrown out of the window along with the paperback book and the socks. All it takes to achieve this carefree attitude is one of those tickets in your hand.
Any system that enables young people to travel through countries at a rate of more than one a day must be pretty special. On that first trip, my friends and I were at first unaware of the possibilities of this type of train ticket, thinking it was just an inexpensive way of getting to and from our chosen camp-site in southern France. But the idea of non-stop travel proved too tempting, for there was always just one more country over the border, always that little bit further to go. And what did the extra miles cost us? Nothing.
We were not completely uninterested in culture. But this was a first holiday without parents, as it was for most other Inter-Railers, and in organising our own timetable we left out everything except the most immediately available sights. This was the chance to escape the guided tour, an opportunity to do something different. I took great pride in the fact that, in many places, all I could be bothered to see was the view from the station. We were just there to get by, and to have a good time doing so. In this we were no different from most of the other Inter-Railers with whom we shared corridor floors, food and water, money and music.
The excitement of travel comes from the sudden reality of somewhere that was previously just a name. It is as if the city in which you arrive never actually existed until the train pulls in at the [line 29: beginning] station and you are able to see it with your own tired eyes for the first time. [line 29: end]
Only by actually seeing Europe, by watching the changing landscapes and seeing the differences in attitudes and lifestyles, can you really have an accurate picture of the continent in your mind. Everybody knows what is there, but it is meaningless until you view it yourself. This is what makes other people's holiday photos so boring.
While the train trip won't allow you to discover anything new in the world sense, it is a valuable personal experience. Europe is a big place, and Inter-Rail gives people the best opportunity to recognise this ... though in our case it didn't happen immediately.
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Drop me a line!
In our fast world of phones, fax machines and computers, the old-fashioned art of letter writing is at risk of disappearing altogether. Yet, to me, there is something about receiving a letter that cannot be matched by any other form of communication. There is the excitement of its arrival, the pleasure of seeing who it is from and, finally, the enjoyment of the contents.
Letter writing has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. It probably began with the little notes I would write to my mother. My mother, also, always insisted I write my own thank-you letters for Christmas and birthday presents. It didn't matter how short or untidy they were as long as they were letters.
When I left home at 18 to train as a doctor in London, I would write once a
week, and so would my mother. Occasionally my father would write and it was always a joy to receive his long, amusing letters. Most of the letters from home contained just everyday events concerning my parents and their friends. Of course, we also made phone calls but it is the letters I remember most.
There were also letters from my boyfriends. In my youth I seemed to attract people who had to work or study away at some time and I was only able to stay in touch by correspondence. But instead of harming the relationships, letter writing seemed to improve them. I found that I could often express myself more easily in writing than by talking.
I love the letters that come with birthday or Christmas cards. Notes are appreciated, but how much better to have a year's supply of news! And it's better still when it's an airmail envelope with beautiful stamps. My overseas letters arrive from Mangala in Sri Lanka, from someone I trained with over 20 years ago, and I have a penfriend in Australia and another in Vancouver.
Then there's the lady who writes to me from France. If we hadn't started talking in a restaurant on the way home from holiday, if my husband hadn't taken her photo and if I hadn't asked her for her address, I would never have been able to write to her. More important, if she hadn't replied, we would be the poorer for it. As it is, we now have a regular correspondence. I can improve my French (she speaks no English); we have stayed at her home twice and she has stayed with us.
My biggest letter-writing success, however, came this summer, when my family and I stayed with my American penfriend in Texas. We had been corresponding for 29 years but had never met. Everyone was amazed that a correspondence could last so long. The local press even considered the correspondence worth reporting on the front page.
I am pleased that my children are carrying on the tradition. Like my mother before me, I insist they write their own thank-you letters. My daughter writes me little letters, just as I did to my mother. She and my son have penfriends of their own in Texas, organised by my penfriend. I strongly urge readers not to allow letter writing to become another
'lost art'.
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Dedicated to their sports
Four young sports stars talk about their lives.
A Darius (runner)
I've always been sporty. I played a bit of everything at one time, but I was best at football and athletics. When I was 14, I had a trial for a professional football club, but eventually I opted to go down the athletics route instead. My biggest moment came when I got to compete for my country in the youth team and got a medal. It didn't result in much media attention, though, which was a shame. I'd been hoping some sponsorship would come out of it, because the training doesn't come cheap. I train at home all winter and then go away for three weeks, usually Florida, before the season starts. It's good fun - there are great athletics facilities there and the nightlife's great too. You've got to be really disciplined, though. If friends ask me to go out the night before training, I have to say no. I wish I didn't, but dedication pays in this sport. The main goal for me is to get to the next Olympics -that would be fantastic.
B Gabriel (surfer)
The surfing community is small, so you get to meet the same guys wherever you compete. Professional surfers are very serious and often the best waves are at dawn, so if you're really going to get anywhere, you have to cut out late-night parties altogether. I don't mind that so much, but I do love having a lie-in, and I usually have to give that up too. But it's worth it,because without that kind of dedication I might not have won the National Championships last year. I make sure that a big night out follows any win, though, and if there's cash involved in the winnings, I'll go away somewhere really nice. And, of course, the sacrifices are worth it in the long run because winning that championship meant I got picked to present a surfing series on TV. I guess I'm a bit of a celebrity now.
C Dieter (yacht racer)
With five lads on a boat together, you have a good laugh. We're very traditional and we always celebrate a win in great style. It's been said that we act a bit childishly when we're out, but we don't actively go looking for media coverage. Sometimes the reporters actually seem more concerned about where you go out celebrating and what you get up to there than about where you came in the race. I'm away for eight months of the year, so it's great to get back, go out with my mates from other walks of life and do the things they do. You can't live, eat and breathe the sport all the time- it's not healthy. I'm known within the world of sailing, but fortunately I can count the number of times I've been recognised in the street on the fingers of one hand. I'd hate to become some sort of celebrity. I get a lot of nice letters from people wanting signed pictures, though. It may take ages, but I reply to every one. It would be cheeky to complain, even if it does take a bit of organising.
D Tomas (tennis player)
It's always a great thing to walk on court and feel that the crowd's behind you. At the last tournament, though, it all got a bit crazy with people crowding around. Despite that, I have to admit that I do still get quite a thrill out of being spotted by fans when I'm out shopping or something. It has its downside though. My last girlfriend didn't like it if I got too much attention from female fans. The thing is,tennis players have to travel quite a lot, and in the end that's why we split up, I guess. That was hard, but you've got to make sacrifices in any sport; you've got to be serious and professional. Actually, it doesn't really bother me too much. I'm content to concentrate on my game now and catch up on the other things in life once I've retired, because, after all, that comes pretty early in this sport.
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Running a business in the countryside
Five women talk about their experiences setting up a business in the countryside.
A.
'My customers are friends,' says CHRISTINE HOGAN, who runs a computer-aided design business with a turnover of over PS200,000 a year and four full-time employees. 'My husband and I moved out of London to the country when our children were small, and I wanted work I could do at home. I had worked with computers before I was married, so my husband suggested I set up a computer-aided design business. It needed a huge amount of money and things were difficult in the beginning. But I have been very careful, making sure that I told the bank manager if I was likely to overspend. Being in the house is a big saving, and I can carry on working in the evening if I want. It has remained a small business. We hardly ever deliver work - people from the area tend to collect it from us.'
B.
'I enjoy being independent,' says MAGGY SASANOW, who works from home as a designer of greetings cards. 'I trained in art at university, and wanted to work in a museum. But when I married, we went to live in the countryside, where there wasn't that sort of work. So I decided to set up my own business and I produce a range of 50 greetings cards which I sell to museums. I work in a big room upstairs. The disadvantage of working from home is that there is always something that needs doing - like mowing the lawn. My business comes completely by word of mouth - I don't advertise at all. People send work down from London as I am cheaper than other artists. Working alone, I don't get to exchange ideas with other people any more, but generally there are more advantages than disadvantages.'
C.
'It has been hard at times,' says DELIA TURNER, whose curtain-making business has seen good times and bad. 'I started my business eight years ago. Then this type of business was expanding, and in two years my turnover went from PS24,000 to PS80,000. I used to manage six full-time curtain-makers. But I had to sack them because of the decline in the economy, which was painful because it is not easy to find other jobs in this area. I am right back almost to where I started, making the curtains at home myself, with my husband's help, and using women who work from their homes. I have to be prepared to cut my prices when it's necessary and to look at different opportunities.'
D.
TESSA STRICKLAND runs the editorial and production side of her children's book publishing business from her farmhouse. 'I moved to the countryside three years ago for two reasons. The first was financial, because London was so expensive, and the second was because I love the country. I enjoy being able to work when I want to. Eighty per cent of my income comes from deals with Australia, the Far East and North America, so I have to take calls at odd hours. The disadvantage is that it requires discipline to shut the office door. I publish children's books from cultures around the world, working with authors and artists. All my professional experience had been in London, so I used to feel very alone at first.'
E.
MEG RIVERS runs a cakes-by-post business and a shop with a turnover of PS250,000 a year and employs six people, some part-time. 'I started ten years ago at home. I am very interested in health, so I started making fruit cakes, using good quality flour and eggs. Then I started getting requests from friends and relatives, and soon I was sending cakes all over the country. Seven years ago I rented a small building and everything is made there - we have a baker and assistant, and a professional cake-icer. I don't cook at all now, as I run the commercial side. My greatest problem has been the financial side of the business, which has been difficult simply because we didn't have an enormous amount of money to set up with.'
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So you want to be an actor
If you tell someone that you want to make a career as an actor, you can be sure that within two minutes the word 'risky' will come up. And, of course, acting is a very risky career - let there be no mistake about that. The supply of actors is far greater than the demand for them.
Once you choose to become an actor, many people who you thought were your closest friends will tell you you're crazy, though some may react quite differently. No two people will give you the same advice. But it is a very personal choice you are making, and only you can take responsibility for yourself and for realising your ambition.
There are no easy ways of getting there - no written examinations to pass, and no absolute guarantee that when you have successfully completed your training you will automatically make your way in the profession. It's all a matter of luck plus talent. Yet there is a demand for new faces and new talent, and there is always the prospect of excitement, glamour and the occasional rich reward.
I have frequently been asked to define this magical thing called talent, which everyone is looking out for. I believe it is best described as natural skill plus imagination - the latter being the most difficult quality to assess. And it has a lot to do with the person's courage and their belief in what they are doing and the way they are putting it across.
Where does the desire to act come from? It is often very difficult to put into words your own reasons for wanting to act. Certainly, in the theatre the significant thing is that moment of contact between the actor on the stage and a particular audience. And making this brief contact is central to all acting, wherever it takes place - it is what drives all actors to act.
If you ask actors how they have done well in the profession, the response will most likely be a shrug. They will not know. They will know certain things about themselves and aspects of their own technique and the techniques of others. But they will take nothing for granted, because they know that they are only as good as their current job, and that their fame may not continue.
Disappointment is the greatest enemy of the actor. Last month you may have been out of work, selling clothes or waitressing. Suddenly you are asked to audition for a part, but however much you want the job, the truth is that it may be denied you. So actors tend not to talk about their chances. They come up with ways of protecting themselves against the stress of competing for a part and the possibility of rejection.
Nobody likes being rejected. And remember that the possibility is there from the very first moment you start going in for parts professionally. You are saying that you are available, willing and, hopefully, talented enough for the job. And, in many ways, it's up to you, for if you don't care enough, no-one will care for you.
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The Schoolgirl Model
When 15-year-old Kira Langer is not flying off to wonderful locations and appearing on the covers of magazines, you'll probably find her revising for her school exams. Jane Laidlaw finds out more.
'I'm afraid Kira will be a little late,' the receptionist at the agency told me. 'Oh, fine,' I said, 'no problem.' I had been trying to convince myself that all the bad things I had read about models were rubbish, but the words difficult, vain and unintelligent kept coming into my head. And now she was going to be late. How late? An hour? Three hours? Maybe she wouldn't come at all. What if she had decided a visit to the hairdresser's would be more fun than talking to me? If she was late, she would be rushing. She could be in an awful mood and refuse to answer my questions.
But when the winner of the Looks magazine supermodel competition walked in, she was smiling, relaxed and apologetic and with her mother. Kira was not dressed in expensive-looking designer clothes but in a simple black dress and trainers. There was no sign of a selfish attitude, she was just a very friendly, very tall, very pretty girl. All models under the age of 16 must take an adult with them whenever they work, she explained, and apart from looking incredibly young, her mother was a normal mum - visibly proud of her successful daughter.
Kira gives the impression of being slightly puzzled by her new-found fame, which is understandable since it was completely unplanned. It was her older sister who decided that she should take part in the model competition. 'She saw the competition and said I should go in for it,' Kira remembers. 'I said no, but she sent some photos in anyway.' When the call came to tell her that she was a finalist, she was at school.
The achievement of being selected for the final [line 38: beginning] gave Kira the confidence to go through with it and [line 38: end] she performed perfectly. She won easily and the Select model agency in London immediately offered her work.
Kira now finds that one of the hardest things she has to do is to manage her two separate lives. But her friends and teachers have become accustomed to having a star among them. 'They're really proud of me,' she says. However, a few unkind people at her school are rude about her success. 'They say I have too high an opinion of myself.' This kind of remark must be hard for Kira to deal with, since there can't be many people as successful as her who are less self-important. But she says, 'They assume that because I've suddenly become a model, I can't stay the same. But the only thing that's changed is I've become more confident - not in a horrible way, but I'm able to stand up for myself more.'
As a busy model though, her social life is obviously affected. The Select agency can ring at any time and tell her that she is wanted for a job the next day. 'If my friends are going out together, I can't say I'll come, because I don't know what I'm doing the next day. I can't really make plans, and if I do they sometimes get broken, but my friends are good about it. They don't say, "Oh, you're always going off modelling now, you never have time for us".'
Kira has the looks, ability and support to have a fabulous career ahead of her. And not many people can say that before they even sit their school-leaving exams. I am about to finish the interview with the girl who has it all, and I ask what she would like to do as a career if she didn't have the outstanding beauty that seems certain to take her to the top of the profession. She pauses and replies: 'I'd like to do what you're doing.'
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In hot water
Rachel Mills is a scientist who spends as much time as she can at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.
Rachel Mills teaches and does research into marine geochemistry, which means she studies the chemical processes happening in the sea. She is a lecturer at the Oceanography Centre at Southampton University. When she isn't teaching, she lowers herself into a steel vehicle, a vessel for underwater exploration the size of a small car, and dives three kilometres down into the Atlantic Ocean to study underwater volcanoes.
'Inside,' she says, 'space is so limited that I can reach out and touch the two pilots. They are used to these conditions, which mean we can't stand up or move and we must stay inside until someone opens the door from the outside. A dive can last for 16 hours - three hours to reach the ocean floor, ten hours gathering samples of rock and water and then three hours to get back up to the surface again.'
'If anything happens, and you have a problem and have to get to the top quickly, you can hit a panic button. The outside drops away leaving a small circular escape vessel that gets released, and it's like letting go of a ping-pong ball in the bath - it goes rapidly to the surface. No-one's tested it yet, but I don't think it would be a very pleasant journey.'
'I didn't know how I was going to react the first time I climbed into the vehicle. It was on the deck of a ship and I got in with an instructor. He then talked me through the emergency procedures; including what to do if the pilot had a heart attack! They were testing me to see how I would react to being in such a small place.'
Now Rachel has made six dives. Last year she dived with a Russian crew. 'We went to a site which was a five-day sail west of the Canary Islands in the Atlantic. Here, on the ocean floor, is a huge area of underwater volcanoes, their chimneys all blowing out black smoke. It is where the Atlantic Ocean comes alive.
The Russian team were dropping off some scientific equipment there to discover the effect of a multi-national programme that would make a hole 150 metres through a volcano.'
When she isn't at sea, Rachel is in her office at the Oceanography Centre, Southampton. 'Two thirds of my salary comes from teaching, which I love, but I do it so I can get on with my research into the "black smokers". This is just another name for underwater volcanoes - water comes out of the rock and turns into what looks like black smoke. This pours out at a rate of one metre per second and at a temperature of 350 degrees.'
'The only time I've been frightened is when I first went down with the Americans. We were towing equipment on a SO-metre rope when suddenly there was an explosion.
There was this immense bang as the shock waves hit our vehicle and I thought, "I'm going to die." We stared at each other in silence, waiting. When it didn't happen, we couldn't believe it. The relief was incredible - we were still alive!'
'It's such an adventure diving down to the deepest part of the ocean. Every time I look out of the porthole and see those chimneys, there is such a sense of wonder. Here I am on the bottom of the sea, and no-one else on this planet has ever before seen them. I had studied the black smokers for three years for my Ph.D. When I got down there and saw them for real it was such an amazing feeling.'
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Trills and bills
If there's one thing guaranteed to send tears running down your cheeks, it's the sight of a brilliant child collecting a medal. Julia Gregson asked three young stars, and their mothers, to describe some of the pleasures and pains of their lives.
A.
Annika Reeder, 15, won a gold medal for gymnastics at the Commonwealth Games. Her ambitions are to become a physiotherapist and compete at the next Olympics. 'The work is very hard at the moment. There is no time to watch television, or go out with friends or do much more than gym and school. I try to take the training day by day, and when I feel very, very tired sometimes my coach gives me a day off, but usually I just carry on - you can't take too many days off, it makes you stiff.'
B.
Annika's mother
'From an early age Annika showed tremendous potential. I've seen some parents try to push their children and it doesn't work. To perform at the level Annika does is so demanding of time and energy you have to want to do it yourself. People tell me all the time that we, as parents, have given up so much, but what they don't see is what the sport's given us. We love it and what it's done for Annika. Before she did gym she was a very shy little girl who sucked her thumb and hid behind me, but now she's met people from all over the world and she's got the confidence of success.'
C.
Sarah Stokes made her first show-jumping appearance at ten. Since then
she has won the British National Championship. 'It's a good job my mum and dad like show-jumping because they train me and have to take me everywhere in the horse box. The shows are from one day to five days long. I don't ever get tired of it - I love show-jumping events, they are exciting and fun. Even if I didn't have Mum and Dad, I would do it because I am so determined. I'm
glad they are happy when I win, but I'm not doing it for them. My goal this year is to qualify for the British young riders (under-18) team. My really big ambition is to win a gold medal at the Olympics.'
D. Sarah's mother
'From the moment Sarah sat on a horse, age 1, that was it, her passion. When she was 5, she used to get up before us all to exercise her pony. To qualify for major shows you have to jump all over England. To save money, we sleep in the living quarters of our horse box. Sarah is well organised. She is 100% happy on a horse, she knows what she's doing. Watching your child succeed at something they love is hard to beat.'
E. Jane McShane, 10, is Britain's Under-14 Chess Champion. 'It's really friendly at tournaments. I know everybody and it's fun. When I'm playing, I don't concentrate. I should do really, but instead I just stare around and don't bother to think. I'm not scared of getting big-headed, I don't talk about my success at school. I don't like embarrassment.'
F. Jane's mother
'Jane played her first game when she was 5. My father said, "Let's see if she likes it." My father had tried to teach me when I was young and I used to sit there bored, but Jane loved it from the start. By the end of that afternoon she had memorised all the moves, and by 6 was starting to beat adults. When she's won of course I'm pleased, but if she said she wanted to give it all up tomorrow, I wouldn't stand in her way. On the other hand I don't want to do the awful thing of putting somebody down because they are exceptional. If she has this gift, let her fulfil her potential.'
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Going up the wall
Once climbers went to the mountains. Now a challenging climb can be had anywhere, indoors or out.
The crowd holds its breath. High above them on the climbing wall, hanging upside down by the tips of two fingers, is the French climber Francois Lombard. He is competing in the World Cup Climbing Championships at Birmingham's National Indoor Arena.
The National Indoor Arena is more famous for staging the TV show Gladiators, but the television programme and the World Cup Climbing Championships share at least one feature - The Wall. And the fact that either event is possible is the result of a new and rapidly developing technology.
Until the mid-1960s,climbers practised their skills on cliffs in areas where there was a plentiful supply of good climbing angles. During the winter they would either tolerate the cold weather, go walking instead or climb on snow and ice in Scotland.
However, as the sport developed it was increasingly important for top climbers to keep fit. With the cliffs unusable for much of the year, they used brick-edges or stone buildings to 'work out' on. This allowed them to keep their fingers strong, and beat off the boredom of not being able to climb. It wasn't long before many sports centres started building walls specifically for the task, using bricks with special edges to cling on to.
Many of these early walls followed the example set by Don Robinson, a teacher of physical education who, during the mid-1960s,constructed a climbing wall in a corridor of his department at Leeds University. Robinson developed the idea of setting natural rock in a block of concrete, which could then be included in a wall.
Scores of climbing walls of this kind were built in sports halls up and down the country throughout the 1970s but they had obvious design problems. Walls could only be built in a vertical plane, whereas cliffs outside have features like overhangs and angled slabs of rock. There was the added drawback that once the walls were up they couldn't be altered and climbers would eventually tire of their repetitive nature, despite thinking of every combination of holds possible.
In 1985,a Frenchman, Francois Savigny, developed a material which he moulded into shapes like those that climbers would find on the cliffs. These could be fixed onto any existing wall and then taken off when climbers got bored with a particular combination.
French manufacturers also began to experiment with panels on a steel framework. Concrete had proved too heavy to create overhanging walls without major building work, but steel frames could be erected anywhere as free-standing structures. A system of interchangeable fixtures gave climbers an endless supply of new holds.
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In the lumberyard by the lake, where trees from the woods were turned into boards for construction work, there was an old brick building two floors high, and all around the outside walls were heaped great piles of soft sawdust. There were many of these golden mountains of dust covering that part of the yard right down to the blue lake. That afternoon, bored with having nothing else to do, all the fellows followed Michael up the ladder to the roof of the old building and they sat with their legs hanging over the edge looking out across the lake. Suddenly Michael said, 'I dare you to jump down,' and without thinking about it, he pushed himself off the roof and fell on the sawdust where he lay rolling around and laughing. 'I dare you all!' he shouted. 'You're all cowards,' he said, encouraging them to follow him. Still laughing, he watched them looking down from the roof, white-faced and hesitant, and then one by one they jumped and got up grinning with relief.
In the hot afternoon sunlight they all lay on the sawdust pile telling jokes till at last one of the fellows said, 'Come on up on the old roof again and jump down.'There wasn't much enthusiasm among them, but they all went up to the roof again and began to jump off in a determimed desperate way till only Michael was left and the others were all down below grinning up at him calling, 'Come on, Mike. What's the matter with you?' Michael wanted to jump down there and be with them, but he remained on the edge of the roof, wetting his lips, with a silly grin on his face, wondering why it had not seemed such a long drop the first time. For a while they thought he was only fooling them, but then they saw him clenching his fists tight. He was trying to count to ten and then jump, and when that failed, he tried to take a long breath and close his eyes. In a while the fellows began to laugh at him; they were tired of waiting and it was getting on to dinnertime. 'Come on, you're a coward, do you think we're going to sit here all night?' they began to shout, and when he did not move they began to get up and walk away, still shouting. 'Who did this in the first place? What's the matter with you all?' he called.
But for a long time he remained on the edge of the roof, staring unhappily and steadily at the ground. He remained all alone for nearly an hour while the sun, like a great orange ball getting bigger and bigger, rolled slowly over the grey line beyond the lake. His clothes , were wet from nervous sweating. At last he closed his eyes, slipped off the roof, fell heavily on the pile of sawdust and lay there a long time. There were no sounds in the yard, the workmen had gone home. As he lay there he wondered why he had been unable to jump and then he got up slowly and walked home feeling deeply ashamed and wanting to avoid everybody.
He was so late for dinner that his stepmother said to him coldly, 'You're big enough by this time surely to be able to get home in time for dinner. But if you won't come home, you'd better try staying in tonight.' She was a well-built woman with a fair, soft skin and a little touch of grey in her hair and an eternally patient smile on her face. She was speaking now with a controlled severity, but Michael, with his dark face gloomy and miserable, hardly heard her; he was still seeing the row of grinning faces down below on the sawdust pile and hearing them laugh at him.
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Keeping the holiday-makers happy
A chalet girl's work is never done, Sarah Sutherland-Pilch tells Veronica Lee - in between making beds and delicious dinners.
This is the second year as a chalet girl for Sarah Sutherland-Pilch, a 24-year-old from West Sussex. Known by her nickname, Pilch, Sarah works for a company in Val d'Isere, France, cooking and cleaning for visitors who come to ski and stay in the wooden houses, known as chalets, that are characteristic of the area. Sarah graduated in French and History of Art from Oxford Brookes University last summer.
Being a chalet girl isn't a career, she says, but an enjoyable way to spend a year or two before settling down. 'It's a good way to make contacts. I meet successful people every week.'
Sarah does not 'live in'. She gets up at 7a.m. to walk the mile or so to the chalet, which sleeps up to 18 guests each week. She has her own breakfast before preparing that of the guests. 'They get the works - porridge, eggs, cereals, fruit and croissants.' When the last of the guests has had breakfast, by about 9.30 a.m., Sarah clears up and either makes the afternoon tea, which is left for the guests to help themselves, or cleans the rooms - 'the worst part of the job,' she says.
By about 11 a.m. she is ready to go on the slopes herself. She skis as much as possible. 'On a good day we can be up there until 4.30 p.m.' Sarah returns to the chalet in time to prepare dinner and takes a shower before doing so, but does not sleep. 'It's fatal if you do,' she says.
Dinner, a three-course affair, is served at 8 p.m. and coffee is usually on the table by 10 p.m. Sarah clears away the dinner things and fills the dishwasher. 'There's nothing worse than coming in to a messy kitchen the next morning.' Sometimes she will stay and chat with the guests, other times they are content to be left alone. 'Good guests can make a week brilliant - breakfast this morning was great fun - but some weeks, for whatever reason, don't go quite so well.'
Sarah meets her friends in the chalet where she lives - and they go out at about 11 p.m. 'We usually start off in Bananas, might go to G Jay's and perhaps Dick's T-Bar at the end of the evening,' she says. But Sarah never stays out too late on Saturday night as Sunday is her busiest time of the week. 'A frightful day,' she says, 'when you certainly don't want to be cooking breakfast with a terrible headache.'
Work begins earlier than usual on Sunday, since breakfast for guests who are leaving has to be on the table by 7 a.m. As soon as the guests are gone, Sarah starts cleaning madly. 'We just blitz the place - clear the breakfast, strip the beds, get everything ready.' If she hasn't already done the week's shop on Saturday, Sarah does it now.
At around 3 p.m., the cleaning work done, Sarah then prepares tea for the new guests. 'They get here at around 4.30 p.m.' Sometimes they are disorientated and full of questions. I'm sure it's the mountain air that does something to them.'
Between tea and dinner, Sarah takes any guests needing boots or skis down to the ski shop and then gets a lift back to the chalet from one of the ski shop staff. It is soon time for dinner duty again and perhaps a drink later, but not always. 'Sometimes I'm so tired I just have an early night,' she says.
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Conduct becoming
Giving directions to an orchestra is never easy. Anne Inglis talks to five new conductors about their work.
A. ANNE MANSON
When Anne Manson, 30, asked if she could attend conductor Claudio Abbado's practice sessions in Vienna, she found herself standing in for an absent assistant. She was then asked to help on another opera the next season. 'I had to take the first orchestral rehearsal for Abbado. No, I wasn't nervous. I always had a good attitude to standing up in front of an orchestra.' American-born Manson works with a well established London-based opera company which concentrates on modern works. She is also building a reputation in other European countries, which she has visited with financial aid from the British Arts Council, and, since that first occasion, she has assisted Abbado on several more projects.
B. ANDREW CONSTANTINE
The most difficult part of being a conductor is deciding how to convince people to present you with the right opportunities; saysAndrew Constantine, 31, who won a major competition in 1991, after failed attempts in two other contests. Looking back, he is grateful for the timing: 'If it had happened any earlier, I am sure I would have disappeared without trace: The competition provided many performance opportunities and a period as assistant to a well-known conductor, but Constantine is finding it difficult to lose the 'competition' label: 'If in three years' time my name is still associated with the competition then I will be worried,' he says.'But orchestras such as the English Chamber Orchestra who took me on after the competition are now inviting me back. If this doesn't happen,your career will gradually fall to pieces.'
C. WASFI KANI
Wasfi Kani, who set up Pimlico Opera, loves the long practice period which is part of any opera production. 'The music is worth four weeks' attention; says Kani, who started conducting seriously in her late twenties. After university, she supported herself by working in London's commercial centre until Pimlico Opera turned fully professional two years ago. Starting lessons
with Sian Edwards was the key moment for her. 'I saw her conduct and realised she was the same size as me - I had always been taught by much bigger people which makes a huge difference.' She likes the complicated nature of opera: 'There are lots of arguments, and you've got singers' personalities to consider ... '
D. ROGER VIGNOLES
'Conducting has come upon me as something of a surprise, but it holds great fascination for me,' says Roger Vignoles, 48. In fact, it's not such a strange career move. He started out as a resident musician with an opera house, and worked with good conductors. Last year he was asked to direct Handel's Agrippina from the piano at a festival, something he had never done before. 'It was much less difficult than I thought. I found I knew the music well, I knew what I wanted it to sound like, and I tried my best to get the performance I wanted. Fortunately, people have respected my ability as a musician generally. I am benefiting from every piece of experience I've ever had, both in musical style and in the actual business of performing. Now I will do whatever people ask me to do so I can find out what I like doing.'
E. WAYNE MARSHALL
It was back in 1986 that the conductor Simon Rattle noticed a young assistant conductor on one of his productions and told his agent about Wayne Marshall. Marshall, now 32, soon found himself conducting a musical in London at short notice, a difficult beginning. He even had to deal with some over-relaxed professional musicians reading newspapers during the show: 'I was just tough with them. I always gave a clear beat and got the best result I could. A lot of orchestral musicians I've seen don't seem to need advice and instruction from a conductor. But I'm never afraid to say what I want. If people see you're worried, it gets worse. I've never studied conducting formally and no book tells you how to conduct but people have been kind to me. I am determined and I know what I like.'
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Week after week, British tabloid newspapers carry pictures which intrude into people's privacy and break the newspaper editors' code of practice. Although pop stars do pose for paparazzi on occasion, this is not typical. More usually, great damage is done to [line 6: beginning] individuals in the public eye when they see their most [line 6: end] private moments captured on the front page. Yet very few call on the services of the Press Complaints Commission (PCC), an organisation that was set up to deal with issues of this kind.
Rarely, if ever, are these pictures in the public interest. Do intimate shots of pop stars help to detect a crime? In what way did the picture of a famous actress on a hotel bedroom balcony protect public health and safety? The actress has made a fuss about long-lens pictures in the past and since she was in a hotel, a place where, to quote the code of practice, 'there is a reasonable expectation of privacy', she had good cause for complaint, but she didn't take any action.
That the PCC did not launch an investigation itself is a scandal. It should also be looking into the outrageous story published recently about a pop star's love life. The pop star, like the famous actress, has held back from making a formal complaint. Shouldn't the PCC [line 25: beginning] take the initiative on this and other shameful attacks? [line 25: end]
To begin with, this seems like a great idea. It would surely lead to many decisions against newspapers. These would be reported by their rivals and broadcast on TV and radio. The public would not be sympathetic and editors would have to refuse to publish such material. Even photographers would be affected, no longer finding it financially possible to spend their days hidden behind trees waiting to snap unsuspecting celebrities.
If the PCC decided to take on this role of 'police officer', which it technically could, there would be several problems. How would it decide whether or not to launch an inquiry? Should it approach the victim and encourage him or her to make a complaint? And if the person involved still refused to do anything, should it proceed nevertheless? In addition, celebrities and members of royalty might well expect that any story involving them would be taken up, and then be outraged to find it wasn't. Above all, the role itself is too enormous. How could the PCC realistically monitor the whole of the British press: national, regional and magazines?
Then there is the embarrassment factor to consider. However seriously someone's privacy has been invaded, would they really want the further embarrassment of an investigation? I suspect the majority simply want to put it behind them and get on with their lives. Of course, one or two may have other reasons for keeping quiet. A worse story may exist, that they have managed to keep from the press, and they realise that this may also become public knowledge if they complain. In other words, even the PCC might become the enemy.
One British comedian also suffered at the hands of the press when he and his wife were secretly photographed on their honeymoon in the Caribbean. He didn't complain then, nor more recently, when he and his family were again victims of a sneak photographer during a family holiday. His reason for this was fear that the newspaper, News of the World, would re-run the pictures with a new story about his 'fury', saying that they thought it was just a bit of fun, and that, being a film star who made comedies, they thought he had a sense of humour. This fear is understandable. People believe they will again become targets if they dare to challenge the tabloids. It is hard to see an easy solution to this serious problem.
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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No Title
Finding a good flat in Dublin at a price you could afford was like finding gold in the gold rush. The best way was by personal contact: if you knew someone who knew someone who was leaving a place, that often worked. But if, like Jo, you had only just arrived in Dublin, there was no chance of any personal contact, nobody to tell you that their bedsit would be vacant at the end of the month. No, it was a matter of staying in a hostel and searching.
For Jo, Dublin was a very big blank spot. She really felt she was stepping into the unknown when she got on the train to go and work there. She didn't ask herself why she was going there in the first place. It had been assumed by everyone she went around with at school that she would go. Who would stay in a one-horse town, the back of beyond, the end of the world, the sticks? That's all she had heard for years. They were all going to get out, escape, see some life, get some living in, have a real kind of existence, and some of the others in her class had gone as far as the towns of Ennis or Limerick, where an elder sister or an aunt would see them settled in. But out of Jo's year, none of them were going to Dublin. She was heading off on her own.
Jo's mother thought it would be great if she stayed permanently in the hostel. It was run by nuns, and she would come to no harm. Her father said that he hoped they kept the place warm; hostels were well known for being freezing. Jo's sisters, who worked in a hotel as waitresses, said she must be off her head to have stayed a whole week in a hostel. But Jo didn't know they were all still thinking about her and discussing her, as she answered the advertisement for a flat in Ringsend. It said, 'Own room, own television, share kitchen, bathroom.' It was very near the post office where she worked and seemed too good to be true. Please, please let it be nice, let them like me, let it not be too dear!
There wasn't a queue for this one because it wasn't so much 'Flat to Let', more 'Third Girl Wanted'. The fact that it said 'own television' made Jo wonder whether it might be too high a class for her, but the house did not look in any way overpowering. An ordinary red-brick terraced house with a basement. But the flat was not in the basement, it was upstairs. And a cheerful-looking girl with a college scarf, obviously a failed applicant, was coming down the stairs. 'Desperate place,' she said to Jo. 'They're both awful. Common as dirt.' 'Oh,' said Jo and went on climbing.
'Hello,' said the girl with 'Nessa' printed on her T-shirt. 'Did you see that toffee-nosed girl going out? I can't stand that kind, I can't stand them.' 'What did she do?' asked Jo. 'Do? She didn't have to do anything. She just poked around and pulled a face and sort of giggled and then said, "Is this all there is to it? Oh dear, oh dear," in a posh accent. We wouldn't have her in here, would we, Pauline?'
Pauline had a psychedelic shirt on, so colourful it almost hurt the eyes, but even so it was only slightly brighter than her hair. Pauline was a punk, Jo noted with amazement. She had seen some of them on O'Connell Street, but hadn't met one close up to talk to. 'I'm Jo, I work in the post office and I rang.' Nessa said they were just about to have a mug of tea. She produced three mugs; one had 'Nessa' and one had 'Pauline' and the other one had 'Other' written on it. 'We'll get your name put on if you come to stay,' she said generously.
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70.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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B2
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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The Collectors
Amanda Roy writes about the things she collects and the reasons why so many people enjoy the same hobby.
I have always loved collecting and collectors and one in three adults indulges in this hobby. It is a world of passion, envy and enthusiasm and delight. However, if you enter this world, remember one thing: in the end, if you do not fall in love with an object, do not collect it.
Since the beginning of time, people have had the urge to collect. When primitive man collected pebbles, he hung them around his neck. Attracted by their shapes and colour, these pebbles represented man's first attempts to gather objects for intellectual and spiritual reasons. Over the intervening centuries, nothing much has changed. Small boys and girls still collect stones and seashells just for the beauty of their forms and colours.
I have been collecting all my life. Everything from flowers such as tulips to pottery and paintings. My first collection was of stones picked up in my parents' garden. Aged six I had the good fortune, although it did not seem so at the time, to be sent to a school in a remote part of England, a cold and windy place surrounded by hills. When my parents came to visit me they used to take me to the local museum, which was full of objects collected by people in the past. I was fascinated by these objects.
Surprisingly I am not alone in being interested in collecting objects. One in three adults indulges the same passion. The reasons why people collect has become a subject of great interest. The current thinking is that, for some individuals, it is the only aspect of their lives where they have complete control. For me, it's just something I enjoy doing.
One famous collector was the Duc de Berry in France. He owned a 'room of wonders'. This was a collection of natural and artificial curiosities. There were cups made from coconut shells, carved ivory beads and pieces of Oriental china. Another aristocrat, Catherine the Great of Russia, collected more than 4,000 paintings.
However, you do not have to be rich and powerful to start a collection. I have collected items as different as tulip bulbs and china cups, searching out examples of each type with incredible determination. I remember the day that I persuaded a fellow collector of tulips to part with one which I wanted to add to my collection. I planted it and watered it until one year it vanished - stolen by another collector.
One collection that I made was of American rag dolls - 350 of them. I looked all over the USA for these dolls, searching out each variation in design with delight. This collection was destroyed when my house caught fire. Next morning, I stood inside the front hall and saw the remains of furniture and my collection. I am not certain which saddened me more!
It is, I suppose, the way that collections change hands that has always interested me. A silver spoon that once belonged to a king, a poet: it is this that gives value to the goods that are traded in the markets of the world. As small objects become a popular collector's item, so they begin to rise in price. The toys of the 1950s are now positively an investment, provided of course, that you did not throw away the original boxes. (Not only did I put them in the bin, I also did the same to the contents.)
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cambridge-exams
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B2
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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It's a tough job?
Chris Arnot asks four people with dream jobs if they're as wonderful as they seem.
A. Raquel Graham
Raquel Graham rings from the taxi taking her to the airport. She can't make our appointment tomorrow because her boss wants her to be in Los Angeles instead. When you're personal assistant to a pop star, you're expected to jet around the world at the drop of a hat. Raquel loves her job and gets on well with her boss.
There's just one minor problem - she can't stand flying. 'On a nine-hour trip to California I usually take sleeping tablets to help calm me down,' she admits. Her worst experience was being on Concorde. 'It seemed so shut in with those tiny windows.'
Offices in Manchester and London occupy her when she comes down to earth. There's some mundane paperwork to get through - organising the diary, sitting in on meetings with solicitors and accountants, sorting out itineraries and making yet more travel arrangements.
She didn't apply for the job. A chance meeting with the manager of a pop group led to the offer of work behind the scenes and she took a secretarial certificate at evening classes at the same time. Five years later she was in the right place at the right time when her boss needed a PA.
B. David Brown
David Brown has been an accountant and a golf caddy; a man who carries a golfer's bags. On the whole, he preferred the golf. Well, so would you if golf was your passion. There were drawbacks however. A small flat fee is on offer, plus a percentage of the winnings. The average earnings are between PS25,000 and PS35,000 and much of that will go on travel and hotels.
He was 31 when he first caddied for the golfer, Greg Norman. 'You're not just carrying bags. You're offering advice, pitting your knowledge against the elements and trying to read the course.'
His accountancy skills were recently recognised by European Tour Productions when they made him statistical data administrator. From cards brought in by the caddies, he compiles and analyses the statistics of each day's play. The results are sought after by television commentators, golfing magazines, and the golfers themselves.
C. Martin Fern
Martin Fern is the editor of the 'Food and Drink' pages of a daily newspaper and one of his less difficult tasks is to sample what's on offer in the finest restaurants. What does he think about restaurants that charge exorbitant prices? 'For those who can afford it, it's up to them,' he says. 'I'd rather spend PS120 on a meal I'll remember for the rest of my life than buy a microwave.'
It was his talent as a cook that led to the offer of a food column from a friend who happened to edit a Saturday Review. For Martin, at the time creative director of an advertising agency, it was a useful secondary income. He was 42 when another newspaper rang to offer a full-time job. 'It meant a 50 per cent cut in guaranteed income,' he says. 'But it was a chance to convert my passion into a profession.'
He still does all the cooking at home and tries to keep his waistline under control by cycling a couple of miles to the nearest tube station.
D. Dick Prince
'I started writing children's stories about 20 years ago,' says Dick Prince, one of Britain's most popular children's writers. 'Before that, I had always loved words and enjoyed using them, but my writing had mainly been verse. Then I had this idea for a story. I had been a farmer, and knew the problem of chickens being killed by a fox.
So I wrote a kind of role reversal story called The Fox Busters, which became my first published children's story.'
Where do his ideas come from? 'Well, it's not easy, I have to work at them,' he says. 'That is what I usually do in the mornings. I'm not up with the dawn, I'm afraid. After lunch, I spend another couple of hours typing out the morning's scribbling - all of which I do with one finger on an old portable typewriter rather than on one of those awful laptops.
I get between 50 and a hundred letters a week and that is the part about being a writer that I enjoy the most. I do try to answer them all, but nowadays I have some secretarial help.'
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8.txt
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reference
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B2
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Trying to get published?
If you are wondering where to send your story our expert Margaret Stubbs is here with the advice you need.
Readers of this magazine often write in saying, 'I have written this story / book. Can you please tell me who to send it to?' One of the first things they need to know is that they should be researching their markets and finding out about publishers as well as practising their writing skills. Turning words into a saleable commodity takes a good deal of knowledge about the 'writing game'.
Whatever kind of writing you do, you need to develop a knowledge of the markets you are aiming at. There are several ways of doing this, but the best one is simply by reading everything relevant you can lay your hands on. Use your local library and go round the local bookshops and newsagents. Reading widely will always give you the best guide to what kinds of writing publishers are actually accepting at any given time.
As time goes on, this knowledge must be updated as new publications are constantly appearing - editors change jobs, and magazines change direction. New titles are coming and going all the time. Publishers are always hungry for new blood; as writers we have to make sure we give them what they want.
To begin with you may be looking around, not quite sure what you want to write. Let us say you feel that you might like to write short love stories. The very first thing you must do is find out which magazines use love stories, a rather limited market these days, and get hold of as many recent copies as you can. Then familiarise yourself with the kind of stories they are buying, taking special note of who the readers are. These readers will expect different things from their magazine, and the editor is only interested in catering to their needs.
Writers often send me their stories saying, 'This has been rejected three times - please tell me if I am wasting my time ... do I stand a chance at all?' As a former teacher, I would never actively discourage anyone. But it is unlikely that the work is of publishable standard; so I have to try to give an honest opinion, but always with a positive viewpoint.
The problem is that most new writers are too eager to send their work out, usually long before they are ready to enter the market. If you have only written one story or one article, it is not at all likely to be published. That almost never happens. When you read about so-called success', you usually find that the person has been in the publishing trade or journalism for some years before their current success.
When you do finally send off some of your work for the first time, immediately get on with more work while you await a reply; write ten more stories, twenty even. Each one will be better than the last, and you will begin to think of yourself as a writer, and both your fluency and your confidence will grow. Don't tear any of them up-improve them instead. Also, I would advise not showing your work to anyone else, certainly in the early stages.
Don't forget that every successful writer will have had many rejections before succeeding. Do everything you can to advance your career as a writer. See whether there's a creative writing course near you. If not, try joining a local writers' group which will help you to gain ideas and confidence from mixing with other aspiring writers. Think of yourself as a writer and get that writing practice in - every day if possible.
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9.txt
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B2
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Favourite places
Bruce
I don't like landscapes which are completely untamed. It's the human element which is important to me. It's the same when I travel abroad. Lovely villages with old temples attract me, not empty deserts. When I was eight, I went away to school in England and on Saturdays I would cycle to the village of Lastingham in its lovely valley. Cycling was a release from school. I loved exploring the bleak hilltops, the sheltered valleys and old villages. Coming from Scotland myself, I found the landscape familiar yet different and I still go back there today. I used to describe my adventures in my private diary. In a way, that was my first attempt at travel writing, at which I subsequently made my name.
Sophia
There is a miniature railway that goes from Hythe to Dungeness, run by amateurs. I always travel first class as it doesn't cost much more than the regular fare. The scenery is not spectacular. The train moves across Romney Marsh with its sheep, and alongside a canal. But there is one point on the journey that I always look forward to - when our miniature world takes a detour through back gardens. For a few moments, we passengers spy on people at random points in their day, making a cup of tea, doing the washing up, unfolding a deckchair. I see myself in their eyes, a woman in a tiny train carriage, looking into other people's homes. It's the ordinariness of the landscape that attracts me. Just fields and sheep and a distant grey sea. That makes me look more closely, to search for something that opens my eyes.
Matthew
The Hartland Peninsula is a remote and lovely coast. The beaches are hard to reach and scattered with rocks, so crowds are largely non-existent here. They attract a few brave surfers but most visitors prefer instead to reflect on the majesty of the sea. The coast, which faces the Atlantic, is notorious for shipwrecks. There are coast walks which you can combine with trips inland up beautiful damp valleys, full of oak trees, ferns and wild flowers. We stay in modest self-catering accommodation with a family who have some property in the village of Southole.
Annette
My favourite place in England is the Trough of Bowland, a landscape of wide-open moorland which is perfect for hiking. There are not many residents and not many visitors either. It's an unknown corner, empty and remote, and I like the feeling of space. I discovered the area by chance when I was a student, and since then I've made an annual visit, either alone, or with my boyfriend, and now with my son. It has changed little since my first visit. Having a child makes these visits more special. It makes me sad that he's growing up in an urban environment.
James
I purchased Glenthorne, my favourite house in Britain. It was a question of obtaining pure peace and reconnecting with my English roots and coming home. I grew up in what is now known as Sri Lanka, but at the age of twelve went to school in Devon, in the west of England. I used to cycle around the moors and village backstreets. We had a story about a place we would never cycle past: if you went down the driveway you'd never return.That place was Glenthorne. It's the place of my dreams. It's a magic, secluded, romantic house. You can't hear anything except sea, wind and birds.
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1.txt
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en
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C1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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A.
'I actually look rather good in jeans. So I rarely wear them. I don't want to get mixed up with the wrong sort of person.' So runs the logic of Isabel, 'our heroine' in this refreshingly zany novel. An art student of 31, devotee of historical romances, she seeks Mr Right but is concerned lest her knobbly knees ruin her chances. Hope, however, springs eternal - which proves to be her salvation, and that of other people in the story. Employing the staccato drama-laden pace of an early silent film, with chapter headings like 'Our Hero Feels Inspired', the author writes with terrific verve.
B.
This is a celebration of the birth and subsequent near-death of a local radio station in America. It is the wry view of a national institution - the wireless - seen through the eyes of a weedy, intelligent child, Francis With. Francis works for WLT (With Lettuce and Tomato) Radio, a station set up by Roy and Ray Soderbjerg to advertise their sandwich bar. Soon the station is beaming out a motley collection of singers, preachers, soap-opera heroes and continuity announcers. This small-town American setting provides the author with huge scope for the dry humour and understated prose for which he is justly praised. He skilfully transports the reader from the present back to the gentler days of the 1940s and 1950s, an era of dime stores, oil-cloth, old-fashioned Ford motor cars and, of course, the wireless.
C.
In the world created by the author, it is quite in order for a second husband to gossip with his wive's first husband. So, when high-flying professor Richard Vaisey falls for a beautiful Russian poetess, he naturally confides in his wive's ex. The poetess writes rotten poetry, which troubles Richards critical conscience; she's also trying to get his support for her wrongfully imprisoned brother. However, none of these complications is half as interesting as the way the author untangles them. He moves the plot along with a robust sense of the ridiculous and dissects relationships with perceptive care. It all makes for a highly enjoyable, sophisticated and witty read.
D.
Two sets of best friends - two women, two men - meet in the London of the sixties, and for the next quarter of a century are bound together in life and death. At the outset of this long novel, one of the four, the mysterious American tycoon, James Hudson, is launching a newspaper, which his friend Richard Blake is editing. The launch is crucial, but so is the fact that the woman they both adored (and that one of them married) was killed some years before... Murder, ambition, love and jealousy - it's all here, and the writing's good as well. This is one of those books, in size and range, where you can really get to know the characters and be engrossed in them.
E.
Written by one of the very best American fiction writers, this amusing and compassionate story tells how Ian Bedloe, by way of atonement for a sin that leaves him plagued with guilt, becomes 'father' to his brother's three orphaned children. What with the detritus of domesticity, he is, at 40, slowly sinking into eccentric bachelorhood. The story covers much emotional ground and highlights, in canicular, the touching, tender relationship Ian develops with the youngest child, Daphne. A lovely, warm book with exactly the right balance of pathos and laughter.
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10.txt
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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BRINGING UP BADGERS
'What now?' was my immediate thought, as one of my helpers canned a cardboard box towards me. Since my husband Derek and I turned our dairy farm in Somerset into an 'open farm' six years ago, we've established a reputation for looking after orphaned animals. But the noise coming from die box -- a cross between a cackle and a bark - was not one I recognised, so it was with great interest that I peered in to see three small grey badger cubs, each no more than eight inches long. Their coats (later to reveal fleas) were like velvet, and milky-coloured eyes looked up at me from three tiny black-and-white striped heads.
I had never seen badger cubs before. As most of them are born between mid-January and mid-March, they usually spend their early life underground and, if orphaned, die of starvation, never to be found. These three had been brought in by building contractors; while laying drain pipes,their machinery had bored into the sett before they realised it. The mother was found dead with her babies still suckling her.
I could see they were healthy and well but they were cold and whimpering. After defleaing them, I took them into the farmhouse kitchen and installed them beside the stove for warmth. There were two females, Primrose and Bluebell, and a male, Willow. Initially I used a syringe to feed them but each cub had to be wiped with a warm cloth first to simulate the sensation of the mother licking them. This encouraged them to empty their bowels and bladder. For the first two or three days they were fed every four hours.
Within a week the cubs had progressed to drinking from a bottle and were moving around, albeit shakily. With each other for company and a heated pad as a substitute 'mum', they seemed very contented. Three weeks after their arrival, however, I noticed that Willow seemed lethargic, although he was still taking food as normal. It was a warning sign. I should have reacted straightaway; not realising its importance, I awoke the next morning to find him dead.
The vets post mortem revealed that Willow had died from a lung infection. When bottle feeding any animal it is important not to let it drink too fast, as liquid can overflow into the lungs. In Willows case this had caused an infection that would have been difficult to rectify, even with the help of antibiotics, in one so small.
Disheartened by my failure, I continued rearing the others. But fate works in strange ways: six days later a local farmer, who had heard about our cubs, came to see me. Behind some silage bags he had discovered a single male cub, abandoned by its mother. He knew she would not return; the area had been disturbed too much and already the cub was cold and hungry.
Willow II joined the fold. At six weeks, he was about two weeks younger than the females and over the next few days I discovered why his mother had left him. Never had anything been so difficult to feed. To place the bottles teat in his mouth and cajole him into drinking I had to keep moving it around and squeezing it. After a full 10 minutes he would latch on to it as if he had not drunk all day. By the end of April the females were weaned on to creamed rice and then literally anything. It was to be a different story for Willow. He was happy to give up the bottle but could not master the habit of eating without walking through his food, tipping it over or just sitting in it. Eventually I offered him a sausage, which little by little was chewed, played with and finally eaten. After a week of sausages he was ready to move on to something else.
At nearly five months old, they were all eating cereals for breakfast; a meat and vegetable meal for lunch and fruit and nuts, cheese, hard boiled eggs and sunflower seeds in the evening. The usual diet for badgers is 60 per cent earthworms, plus beetles and bugs, baby rabbits, mice and voles and even shoots or roots of plants. Certainly my badgers were much better off than other cubs that year; the summer was exceptionally hot and digging for earthworms must have been almost impossible.
By August my foundlings had begun to turn nocturnal and would go for walks only at dusk or late at night. We often went through the cider orchard; in its long grass, everyone was fair game. The cubs would get excited, ruffle up their fur so that they looked like snowballs and chase each other's tails. As 'human badgers' we were included in this sport. I learnt to avoid those playful charges that ended with a sharp nip, but Derek accompanied us only occasionally and so never grasped this skill: his reactions to being caught were sometimes as colourful as his bruises.
It was during two of these late-night walks in the very dry period that I spotted odder badgers in our field. Presumably they were having to extend their territories to find enough food, although badgers are very territorial and will kill others that wander into their territory. We were even warned that they would climb into our badger pen and kill the cubs, so sheet metal was placed over the gate to make it as inaccessible as possible.
The local press took some pictures of me walking the badgers, and such was the response that we started an appeal to build a sett on the farm for the badgers to move into. With advice freely given, we designed our badgers' new home. Daniel, one of our sons, drew up the plans and we built a sett complete with tunnels, an enclosure and a badger gate facing the same way as their nightly walks.
It had three chambers, one slightly larger than the others, with a glass side to enable people to see into the sett from a darkened enclosure. As the sett began to take shape, the badgers would explore it before going on their walks. Eventually walks were forgotten in the excitement of climbing through the tunnels and sorting out bedding.
The cost of the building work was far more than we envisaged but a local bus company (the aptly named Badgerline) sponsored part of the appeal, and local firms donated building materials. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to see the badgers with a home of their own.
Early one evening they finally moved in. After watching them for a while, we left them to settle. Half an hour later I crept back to see if all was well, to be met with the sight of three badgers curled up in their chambers sound asleep.
These days my walks with them are not as regular, especially as they are not fully awake until midnight. We see Primrose only occasionally (she has joined a neighbouring sett) but
Bluebell and Willow II still rush up to say hello before they go dashing off into the night. This is their territory now, an area that they have come to know well and a home they have readily accepted.
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11.txt
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en
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cambridge-exams
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document-level
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reference
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C1
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Blacksmiths
THROUGHOUT the ages, iron has exerted a powerful pull on the human imagination, and the men who work it have often been regarded as much more than skilled craftsmen. Before the Industrial Revolution, blacksmiths enjoyed the same status as doctors and astrologers, because they were the sole providers of weapons, armour and farming tools.
They have also been feted as artises. Eighteenth-century smiths produced the wonderfully baroque ironwork for St Paul's Cathedral. The sinuous metalwork of French and Belgian Art Nouveau architecture was always the work of a talented blacksmith.
But practitioners of these ancient skills had become almost extinct in Britain by the late 1960s, for heavy industry had ceased to have any use for them, and towerblock architects rarely used anything as graceful and pleasing as a wrought-iron handrail.
Over the past 10 years, however, there has been something of a revival - thanks to greater interest in decorative architecture and a less conservative approach to interior design. Even so, much of the work looks surprisingly cliched: manufacturers of gates and balconies still advertise their wares as 'classical' or 'Victorian-style'. You cant walk into a trendy design store without being assailed by rusty candlesticks with dangly bits.
Thankfully, alternatives exist and a series of events over the next few weeks aims to promote the blacksmiths craft. The first of these, an exhibition of forged ironwork by members of the British Artist Blacksmiths Association (BABA), opened last week at the
Fire & Iron gallery in Leatherhead, Surrey.
Alan Dawson, the secretary of BABA, says: 'We could be at the start of a new Iron Age, because, in a sense, both the general public and blacksmiths have had their blinkers removed.' Power tools have liberated smiths from all that labouring over a hot anvil, and they can now bend, split, twist and spot-weld the metal with relative ease. 'In short,' says Dawson, 'these artists now have a material which allows them to express themselves.'
About 250 pieces have been produced for the show, ranging from bookends to a spiral staircase. Reserve prices start at PS90 and climb well into four figures. Most of the money raised will go to individual makers, 'but a percentage of every sale will be retained by the Association for the promotion of good ironwork,' says Dawson.
His own contributions consist of an eight-foot gate, and a standard lamp topped with a mouth-blown glass shade.
'My style results from just allowing steel to bend and flow into shape when its hot. It's a bit like drawing with metal in space,' he says.
Many of the artists admit to being fascinated by iron. Unlike most metals, which are relatively malleable when cold, iron and steel are a tougher, more demanding medium. Susan May, a jeweller by training, says, 'It's quite magical, because its incredibly soft when its hot, but as soon as it cools down, it becomes really rigid and immovable again.'
Ann Catrin Evans' mild steel door-knockers and handles seem to have been inspired by those bleak castles that are a stock feature of horror films. One of her designs is shaped like a ball and chain, another like a Celtic cross. 'I love the fact that steel is cold and hard,' she says. 'And the way it feels as though its there forever.'
No other base metal can have given man as much visual pleasure, or a greater feeling of security. The chances of iron being used decoratively for the next thousand years are good, to say the least as long as we don't have to look at any more rusty Candlesticks, that is.
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12.txt
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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Talking shop
Ever entered a store and come away with more than you intended to buy? We reveal the selling devices shops use that are designed to make you spend, spend, spend.
A. The image of freshness
Supermarkets know from their market research that shoppers place a premium on fresh produce being in stores. They may place their fruit and veg at the entrance of a store, or even a display of house plants for sale, to enhance this. They may also provide an in-store bakery that wafts irresistible fresh bread smells around a large area of the store. The colour of the store's fixtures may heighten the image, too - for example, green may be used because of its association with fresh produce. The bulk of what supermarkets sell -
pre-packaged grocery items such as frozen foods and washing powders - may be quite different from this image.
B. Displaying to advantage
The location of products in the store is considered all-important in determining how well a particular brand sells. Nowhere is this more developed than in supermarkets. With computerised stock-control, supermarkets can find out the parts of the store from which shoppers will select items most often. In these areas can be found products with the highest mark-ups or ones which, though less profitable, sell very quickly.
Traditionally in retailing, 'eye-level means 'buy-level' -- shelves at eye height are eagerly sought by manufacturers, or may be reserved for certain own-brand items. 'Dump bins' containing special offers tempt those who find it hard to resist a bargain.
Increasingly popular is 'complementation' - placing dessert or salad dressings, say, over units containing ice-creams or items that may be eaten with salads such as burgers.
C. Spreading staples around the store
Supermarkets may spread low price staples such as bread, tea and sugar around their stores and a long way from the entrance - shoppers have to pass tempting, higher-profit lines on the way. In similar vein, chainstores may locate the products they have a good reputation for as far away from the store entrance as possible. They can rely on a degree of customer loyalty towards these products, so they gamble that shoppers will go actively looking for them around the store, passing other wares that might tempt them.
D. Less sells more
Chainstores have transformed the presentation of their wares in recent years. Much of the pioneering work has been done by the Next chain, which turned away from the 'pile them high, sell them cheap' approach to popular fashion. Next stores have a 'boutique' appeal - they're noted for displaying limited fashion-wear on the shelves, giving the impression that the merchandise is exclusive. Of course, Next's clothing is not less mass-produced than that of their rivals - the company's success is as much a testament to good store design as it is to well-designed clothing.
E. Tempting totals
Food shoppers, it seems, are more responsive to the overall size of their weekly or fortnightly bill than to the prices of individual items. Supermarkets take advantage of this by stocking a mix of low mark-up staples and high mark-up items, so it shouldn't be assumed everything that a supermarket sells is cheap. Low prices are of direct appeal to the thrifty shopper.
It's often said that supermarkets deliberately lose money on certain staples to draw shoppers in - known as 'loss leaders'. More commonly, their low prices are achieved by buying in huge quantities from manufacturers, by offering them a prominent place to display their products or by exceeding sales targets - all of which attract big discounts from the manufacturers.
F. The all-important price-tag
Shoppers tend to buy fewer items in chainstores and may be more aware of individual pricing as a result. So the importance of pricing, say, a blouse at PS14.99 as opposed to PS15, still holds. (It's also a useful device, apparently, to reduce theft among the shop's own staff, who are obliged to ring up a sale in order to give the penny change.)
G. Lighting to effect
Both supermarkets and chainstores give careful thought to lighting. With chainstores, the aim is to achieve lighting which is as close to natural light as possible so that shoppers get a fair idea of what the colour of the clothes will be like in daylight. With supermarkets, special lighting (and mirrors) may be used to enhance certain foods, particularly fresh fruit and veg.
H. Walk this way
Many chainstores have divided up their floors with different carpeting - one pattern for the routes through a store and one defining sales areas. Shoppers are drawn naturally along these routes known within the trade as the 'Yellow Brick Road'. It's not always successful - some shoppers are reluctant to stray off the routes into the sales areas. Marks and Spencer for example, use wood or marble covering for routes, encouraging shoppers to walk on to the more welcoming carpet in sales areas.
I. In-store promotion
As you enter a supermarket, giant colour photographs of succulent roasts, fancy cakes and cheeses hit you - irresistible if you've had nothing to eat before setting out on your shopping trip. In the United States, 'video trolleys' are being tried out in a number of supermarkets. Each trolley has a screen which advertises products as you shop. Sensors at the end of shelves trigger relevant advertising - so the shopper passing the cook-chill cabinets, say, may receive an ad on the screen for ready-made moussaka. Such trolleys are aimed unashamedly at the impulse shopper, and the makers claim they increase sales by around 30 per cent.
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From here to paternity
A. The theatre director
Because of my bizarre personal life, which I cannot be proud of, I have been blessed with 35 years of small children and I can honestly say I have loved every minute. I had the pleasure of feeding the baby this morning and that for me is what being a father is all about.
I'm terribly lucky with my children. We all love the same things: opera, theatre, books, music. It creates a great bond, especially now that they are mostly grown up and I have become a friend rather than a father.
I don't believe in physical violence. I have been guilty of slapping my children in anger, but I don't condone it. I'm sure I have not been a deeply attentive father but I have always tried to be available. I'm here if they need me, always on the basis that they ring me. As soon as you start chasing them to ask why they have not been in touch, you impose this terrible burden of guilt. My parents did it to me and I would never do it to my children.
B. The advertising executive
I was young when they were born, only around 25, and I admit I found the responsibilities and limitations quite irksome. It aged me quickly, but at the same time it kept me young, which is something I have always valued.
As they became teenagers, they introduced me to things I could have drifted away from: music, youth culture, clothes. In a funny way that has been invaluable as far as running the agency has been concerned. I have never felt out of touch.
Because I was struggling to establish the business when they were young there were things I missed: first concerts, sports days. I'm sad about that, but there are compensations now, like being able to take them on holidays to the south of France.
They get on well with a lot of our friends and they come to parties with us and advertising awards ceremonies without feeling intimidated. I think it has been an advantage that I do something they see as glamorous and interesting.
C. The politician
My first child was born just as I was about to be elected onto the Greater London Council, and the others followed in quite quick succession. My wife and I vowed that we would carve out time for them but since I have become more and more politically active, time has become a real problem.
I make it a condition that I will only accept weekend meetings and public appearances where there are facilities for one or more of the kids to come with me. If I did not they would just get squeezed out. This way they have a sense of what I do when I am not with them and there is no feeling of Daddy disappearing.
I've noticed more and more MPs bringing their kids to the House. Maybe we are all becoming more conscious of the need to involve our children in our lives.
D. The writer
My first marriage broke up when Kate and Bonnie were quite young, so I was forced to examine the whole area of fatherhood more closely than I might otherwise have done. I made enormous efforts to stay in touch with the children. My ex-wife and I even experimented with living next door to each other for a while, so they could come and go as they wished, but I think Kate and Bonnie would say now that they found that quite confusing.
Kate has said in interviews that I was always there for her, but I am not sure I was a very good father. It is true I was around a lot, but, like a lot of Seventies parents, I think I treated the kids as adults too soon. Kate was complaining only the other day that we were too liberal. I think I could have introduced more systems, more order. Instead I took this very loose approach. I regret that now.
I still worry about my elder daughters as much as I do about my youngest. In that way your kids never leave you.
E. The TV presenter
I was ready for kids. I'd hit 30, met my wife, we had a lovely house, so we thought, "Why carry on going to the shops every Saturday spending our money on new sofas, when we could have a kid instead?"
Having my daughter Betty has forced me to come to terms with who I am and what I am. You feel you are doing something very special when you conceive a child, and you are. But you are also becoming just one more parent in a great long line of parents. It's a great leveller.
I do resent it occasionally but if ever there is a moment of irritation, it is dispelled by just one look at her. A baby's smile is the greatest self-preservation mechanism in the world. It can melt a grown man.
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