At
last! Back to the Blog after at least 4/5 weeks' absence. I have
returned earlier this week from the US; a holiday to visit daughter
and her family in Belmont, near San Francisco for two weeks, and old
friends in Asheville, NC for the last week. It was all such fun;
three weeks of memories now, of people I loved being with and places
I loved visiting. One of the most amusing and long-lasting memories
is of five year old Genevieve proudly showing me her Kindergarten
Peace Prize, a splendid certificate pinned to the wall in her study
[playroom] The citation reads, 'For helping to establish
peaceful ways to solve conflicts in our kindergarten.' and
when I expressed admiration, her mother sniffed and muttered that no
one had said who helped to start such conflicts! Image below is of the fair Genevieve organising a strawberry tea for soft-textured inmates.
Perhaps exceeding this in impact, was my visit to Google headquarters in Mountain View for lunch. I had had no idea of the sheer size, and by implication, sheer power of Google. 50,000 people work on the one site which is virtually a small town in reach and scope. The atmosphere on the site is informal in the extreme and hugely tolerant; Charlie, the black Labrador goes to work most days with my son-in-law and I saw a large wall calligraphy panel attesting to the adoration of Google for dogs. Saw no mission statement about kittens however. People were milling around all over the place, outside; inside we went into a kitchen/ cafe area, again of an extended size and with different counters offering different foods; Indian, Street, etc. When I expressed astonishment at the size of the place and the numbers being catered for, my guide mentioned that this was one of 96 kitchens on-site to feed the aforementioned 50,000 plus guests and visitors. Anyone can take in guests and everyone is fed free of charge. So different from large firms in Europe I would guess but almost certainly typical of the big American technology firms. I was amazed and impressed and the food was delicious. The experience of actually finding a table and chair and then eating, was just like any canteen experience, only perhaps even noisier. But the happy informality and absence of site rules impressed me and suggested that when the reins are absent or idle, creativity surges. I believe that Google does not pay top notch in salaries but that it is an excellent employer and the employees whom I met did seem happy, busy, buzzy, focussed people chiefly talking work not beer or baseball.
After
such interesting excitement plus a range of visits from the North Bay
area of San Francisco, [teeming, hilly, cosmopolitan, buzzing with
vitality] to Monterey with its hugely wealthy and impressive
Aquarium followed by a day in nearby pretty Carmel with its gift
shops, numerous art galleries, chic little boutiques and cafes and
healthy living outlets. After which came the elegance and feelings of old money
in Asheville which supported splendid public buildings and a
marvellous range of civic and private art galleries and craft shops
publicising Appalachian artists and craftsmen. But it was in Carmel,
in the Tamara G Fine Art Gallery that I discovered an artist I loved,
Bruno Paoli, 1915-2005 who lived and died in Florence. And here's why!
Think I
learned a lot about America and perhaps the most admired quality was
and is the generosity of people with wealth donating to civic and
other public undertakings. There is a taken-for-granted habit of
charitable giving which is admirable and extensive and includes many
more than the really wealthy; the middle classes give too, creating
scholarships, and funding opportunities for younger people.
But this is a Brugge Blogge and today I reacquainted myself with parts of the city. Earlier in the week, washing and ironing and waking half way through the night seem to have been the norm but yesterday to Knokke for the afternoon with a friend, a sunny visit much enjoyed with the realisation
that I
wouldn't want to live there. Think perhaps that ostentatious wealth
makes me feel uncomfortable and Freud would know why. I guess Knokke
is fashionable, elegant, a magnet for shoppers and watchers alike.
Then there are the art galleries, none selling cheap art, some
selling marvellous but expensive art, some selling incomprehensible
art. I heard two different accounts of the phrase, 'M'as tu vu?' One
suggests it is the nickname of a showy, gilded villa; the other says
it is the popular appellation for a square, a little area, but both
point to the 'Have you seen me?' quality that is Knokke.
But
yesterday, after calling in to say Hello to the wonderful Frou Frou
hat shop owner, Mady, and the ritual buying of the English newspaper,
I wandered along the Groenerei and the Coupure, following the canal
on what was a wonderfully mild and sunny day. I passed the bay window
where the Golden Retriever used to
sit and dream, ignoring the noisy photographers in the boats below. I
heard just before I went to the U.S. that he had died. Another lovely
character, reputedly Bruges' Most Famous Resident, lost to the Elysian Fields. I sat down to toast his memory
with a coffee at the Baron Ruzette cafe, chatted to a couple from
Dudzele, read the Daily Telegraph and had a Brugse Zot beer. All was
indeed right in my world I thought as I wandered home as twilight fell.
Welcome home, Averil! How well you write about the town in which I spent 30 years of my life .
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