It’s an unexploded ordinance sitting on the corner of a farmer’s field near Ypres, waiting for pickup and disposal by the army. We saw many on our wanderings through Belgium. It’s been a common sight since WW1 and the locals, including children simply pass them by. Every year, farmers in Belgium and France die as these lethal leftovers surface from the soil that has hidden them for years. Tractors are fitted with a heavy steel plate but casualties still occur. Australians may remember the sacrifice of our soldiers on Anzac Day and Remembrance Day, but for many in Europe, the war has a daily presence. Lest We Forget.
The Sourdough Café in Berry is no longer. This gathering was a wake. Some of the usual suspects of our Thursday morning cycling group drowned their sorrows with caffeine and reminisced. For this escapee from Sydney, the Sourdough Café was the door into another world. Living on the beach draws you to the playground of the sea and the sand. Through the Sourdough, I was introduced into the rich environment of people passionate about soil, trees, wine and cattle. In the warm embrace of the Sourdough, its ambiance mixed with elegant simplicity, it created a relaxed environment where friendships grew, stories shared, and attempts made to solve many of the world’s problems. The spontaneous ‘Table o
Have a listen to an interview that I did on Radio a little while back about my first book 'Out of Latvia'.
"Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." "Every accomplishment starts with the decision to try." "As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest form of appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them." JFK
