pumpkinstrokemarrow

The map never lying reminds me of the issue of the camera never lying. Either the DT or the Guardian had some sport the other day with a advertising picture which purported to be of a beach in Dubai (I think. Somewhere fairly outlandish anyway), but which was actually a picture of Durdle Dor in Dorset. So the question is, how much are the people who fabricate advertising images allowed to fabricate? I allow some. It is well known, for example, that it is hard to take attractive photographs of people without resort to the beautician and the lighting expert. However, if one is making an image of something particular, like an apple from Sainsbury's or of a beach in Dubai, I think the image should be just that. One is allowed to tweak, airbrush and fiddle, but the start point should be what the thing claims to be. There are in-between cases. So suppose that one is selling Mount Gay Rum and want to give it a nautical allure. I think it is OK to do this by faking or montage. There is no need for general purpose nautical allure to be genuine - unless, of course, the framing of the image suggests something nautical particular. Doesn't seem to be too hard to be proper to me. Perhaps some more testing examples will come to me on the way to the baker.

Back in Hampshire, we also managed to take in a quick peek at Butser Hill. From the trig. point I find that you have more or less 360 degree views of distant horizon. Not something I manage very often, not going up serious hills very often. There may be the odd place in the Isle of Wight that you can do it. Quick peek at the north facing scarp slope, stretching for miles. Quick peek at what I call the witches' den. A steep, crooked cleft in the steep north face of the hill with a grove of large beech trees at the bottom. One can see the crows wheeling about them, far below. Just the place for a bit of weed or wicca. Most impressive from almost whatever vantage point you take. Although the scrub is starting to encroach on the grove from the north a bit. Not quite as stark as it used to be.

And since we were there, on down into Portsmouth to explore FIL's childhood haunts. The terraced house that he had lived in for most of his childhood no longer there, the whole area presumably being badly bombed in the war, then cleared. The street layout had not been changed much, but where his house had been there was a block of garages serving a mid rise block of flats. It seems the area had been fairly poor in FIL's day and that, at least, did not seem to have changed much. Onto Portsmouth Cathedral; both odd and oddly impressive. A lot of memorial tablets from the end of the 18th century, a lot of them carrying reminders of the fragility of life then. Lots of people dying in the wrong order. And a memorial plaque to the naval heroes who died in the Baltic 1918-1919 trying to crush the commies. A copy of which plaque is held in Tallinn Cathedral in Estonia. Presumably they find this heroic too. Then a promenade along the southwest beach, taking in a pic-nic, the various forts, the war memorial and the fun fair. The last rather fun. Plenty of candy floss, chips and clientele appropriate. Sporting fruit stall holder, who, when told that I was down to my last £1.52 could not afford his grapes at £2.10, said to give him whatever I had and take the biggest bunch I could see. Actually settled for 4 very decent English apples for £1.20, leaving me 32p for emergencies. South Portsmouth being bereft of banking machinery.

Back home, through the extravagent road works at Hindhind (see above) to pork soup. Pay butcher 99p for a slab of pork bones left over from boning out something from the chest of a pig. Boil for several hours with some celery and onions. Remove bones and onion skins - the balance including getting on for a pound of meat. Liquidise. Add 300 grams of orange lentils and simmer for a bit. Allow to go cold. Add some finely slivvered white cabbage, bring back to the boil, stirring frequently to inhibit sticking, simmer for five minutes and serve. Not bad at all. FIL even went for a second helping.

There is a lecture on Hindhead at some science festival later this week, given by the contractor Balfour Beatty, one of the few civil engineers to survive from my youth. Shall I go to hear what they have to say? To challenge the VFM? To ask what compensation the poor sods who wind up at the southern exit to the thing get? It seems fair that they should get some. The inhabitants of central Hindhead will do very well out of the roadworks to which they have contributed little, so why should those of southern Hindhead not get a slice of the pie?