Time to go, Ms Graffy

You will remember the furore caused by comments from an American diplomat suggesting that three suicides at Guantanamo Bay were "a good PR move to attract attention".

You may even remember that the diplomat in question is the Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for Public Diplomacy (oops, no that doesn't mean making crass, insensitive or tasteless remarks, but perhaps it does in the Bush Administration...). Her name is Colleen Graffy and it might be interesting to ask her if she is now planning to offer her resignation, given today's decision by the US Supreme Court, condemning the basis on which detainees have been held.

Ms Graffy isn't a career diplomat, as her biography indicates. More interesting, however, is what her biography doesn't mention, i.e. her very recent past as a senior figure within the overseas wing of the Republican Party, Republicans Abroad. Yes, she's a political appointee!

Her record in that role included some of the most idiotic defences of Dubya's policies on virtually anything, acting as an apologist for the Florida recount scandal, and alleged attempts to flirt with a range of British television news presenters.

So it's time to go, Colleen. You clearly have no grasp of your brief (it's public diplomacy, duh...) and you have no comprehension of political neutrality in public service. On the other hand, you will have persuaded some neutrals that Americans are uniformly callous and vicious (it's not true but you are one of the public faces of US foreign policy, aren't you?).

The question is, do you have any fleeting familiarity with the concept of resigning as a matter of honour? Probably not, I admit, although you had lived in England for long enough to at least be aware of it. Ah well, if there's any consolation, it is that you'll be out on your ear as long as the Democrats find a candidate who a) knows who (s)he will be when they wake up in the morning - Al Gore comes to mind - and b) has any sort of progressive, positive message at all (and don't tell me that John Kerry had one - if he did, would someone care to tell me what it was?).

Thinking of thoughts of thinking - a long weekend of American liberalism

My apologies for the lengthy gap between posts but, ironically, the hardest place to find an internet cafe is the United States...

After Las Vegas, I headed to Washington for the 59th Annual Convention of Americans for Democratic Action (ADA), where I served as a member of their Foreign and Military Policy Commission (I'm foreign and like things that go bang...). Now, I'll be the first to admit that, in ADA terms, I'm a bit of a hawk, but I tend to gauge the likely stance of the commission as a whole, and stick to matters of fact and accuracy rather than opinion. It's only if I think that I can actually win an argument that I tend to debate.

Now, the thing to bear in mind is that ADA actually describe themselves as liberal, something pretty brave given the conservative triumph in besmirching the word over two decades of relentless assault. Admittedly, it isn't necessarily liberalism as we would recognise it - they're closely connected to the union movement, tend to focus on government solutions to social problems and don't like trade agreements much - but they would be recognised as social liberals by most.

My contributions? A new policy on appropriate criteria for US military intervention overseas (multinational, supported by the United Nations or the appropriate regional body, backed with prior congressional approval and with stated objectives), the tabling of their policy on Guatemala (outdated, I believe) and the removal of their policy against NATO expansion, all quite pleasing.

ADA is a very internationalist organisation, something that we don't tend to expect from Americans, yet their foreign and military policy activists are well-travelled, well-informed and able to convey a positive image for America's place in the world. If they ever got into a position of authority, America would be far better respected in the world (so there's clearly no chance of that happening!).

One quirky feature was the venue, Gallaudet University. Gallaudet is the premier university for the deaf, so the campus is filled with young people communicating in sign language. Having spent the last five weeks in plenty of places where I don't speak, or comprehend, the language, it was strangely comforting...

A question of self-image

I couldn't leave Las Vegas without addressing an issue that has always nagged away at me, i.e. the question of self-image. This is without doubt an astonishingly shallow place and there is no pretense that it might be any other way. So, in a world of glamour and excitement, how do I see myself?

I've never really had a terribly high sense of self-image, even when I was slim and had all of my hair (and yes, both of those things were once true...). And I admit that one side effect of this trip is that I really must do something about the former when I get home (the latter, alas, is beyond redemption). However, I generally have the decency not to flaunt my lack of conditioning. Yet I find myself surrounded by people who are grossly overweight, or amazingly inappropriately dressed or, in some particularly frightening cases, both.

On the other hand, the young lady wearing a bikini top, and a rather small one at that, whom I encountered whilst drinking coffee in Luxor (the casino) looked like something out of a Beach Boys video or Baywatch. People like that, whilst very attractive to look at, make me want to hide.

Unfortunately for Americans, the population is tending towards more of the former group rather than the latter. Lest the rest of the world mock though, don't forget that the British and, more surprisingly perhaps, Australians, are racing towards mass obesity as quickly, if not more so. At least Americans and Australians actively celebrate the cult of beauty, because we British don't. Perhaps it's the climate, perhaps the sense of suspicion amongst British men in particular of anything with connotations of 'making an effort'.

Well, I've decided that it's high time that I exited the fat race, so I'm going to try and make some changes to my lifestyle. Wish me well in the months to come, I'm going to need all of the help I can get...

Viva Las Vegas?

Indeed, welcome to quite possibly the most surreal place anywhere on Earth, where the temperature peaked today at 106 degrees fahrenheit (that's 41 degrees celsius for those of you that prefer it that way).

It has to be admitted that, after the comparatively gentle charms of Luxembourg, Mumbai, Ho Chi Minh City, Seoul, Kyoto, Rotorua, Auckland and Nadi, this has all come as something of a sensory overload, especially given that, thanks to the International Date Line, I got to experience Monday night in both Nadi and Las Vegas (don't try this at home, so to speak...).

However, inspired by the view from my 26th floor window overlooking the famous Strip, I did venture out into the stifling heat to see if Sin City is as described in the brochure. The good news is that it is just as excitingly weird as they say it is, with replicas of the Eiffel Tower and the Sphinx, an entire hotel and casino decorated in the style of a medieval English castle, or New York, or ancient Egypt, if that's what you fancy.

It's also astonishingly tacky, with people trying to thrust cards into your hand bearing pictures of scantily clad and pneumatically breasted young women who want to 'entertain' you for a price (prostitution is illegal here in Clark County, Nevada, yet there are 117 pages of 'entertainers' in the local Yellow Pages!).

Of course, the main feature here is gambling. My first sight on getting off my flight at the airport was a gate lounge filled with slot machines - lots of them. I suspect that if you took them away, the terminal buildings could be two-thirds of their current size and still handle the passengers that flood into the city. Slot machines are everywhere and if, like me, you are staying in a casino hotel (Palms, and, if you have broadband, you must see their website www.palms.com, check out the fantasy suites!), you arrive at the front entrance to be confronted by a sea of slot machines and, hidden somewhere far away, reception.

My problem is this, I don't gamble. I was trained as a mathematician (not a very good one I admit, but...) and I understand the odds, which are against me. This tends to take the fun out of it, if truth be told. What makes it worse is that the people playing slot machines always seem so miserable. They tend to look poor (as though they really can't afford to do this) and you sense that they're waiting for the miracle that never comes. It depresses the hell out of me, let me tell you...

And yet, I'm not one of those who would ban gambling, or tighten restrictions on it. If people want to gamble, they should be willing to accept the consequences of their own actions.

I have been known, on very rare occasions, to play roulette. I am possibly the world's least adventurous player, I admit, as I tend towards low stakes, high percentage choices but what can I say, I have fairly conservative personal morals (and yet I'm very liberal in terms of the moral values I apply towards others, go figure...).

But for now, I must leave you in order to prowl the night and, more importantly, grab a bite to eat...

Another gorgeous day in the South Seas

Welcome to Nadi, where I'm taking time out from my busy schedule of sunbathing, reading, drinking the occasional dip in the pool and drinking the odd cold beer or two to do a little light shopping and reconnect with the outside world.

Of course, I've never been terribly good at doing absolutely nothing at all. However, I have another two weeks of this booked in August so it could be looked upon as orientation. So, you see, I'm actually working very hard. You're not convinced, I can tell...

I did do a little shopping in Lautoka, buying two shirts intended to frighten or blind my fellow colleagues at the office and elsewhere, but my biggest success was to get my hair and beard cut - very short. I look reasonably good, I think. The locals were a bit surprised to see me wander in, but I slotted straight into the vital conversation taking place (England or Argentina for the World Cup?) and, for F$5, I thought I got a good deal.

Next stop, Las Vegas, where it is 106 degrees. I'm not planning to go outside unless it's absolutely necessary...

Fiji 29 Italy 18, your reporter from Churchill Park, Lautoka...

In a fascinating contest, world ranked number 12 Fiji defeated number 11 Italy in a game of two halves at a hot and humid Lautoka Park.

Despite having an 8.5 kg per man advantage in the scrum, the Fijians were unable to make significant headway due to poor technique and some gallant Italian resistance. Unfortuntely for the Azzurri, that resistance didn't extend to the rest of their display, as the Fijians ran in four first half tries, predominantly from open play, although their powerful forwards were difficult to stop in open play. In fact, if it had not been for a number of sloppy handling errors, it would have been easily imaginable for the Fijians to have gone in at half time much further clear than the 29-8 score already indicated. However, a sign of things to come was the fairly straightforward pushover try scored by the Italians as the first half ended.

The second half saw an alleged Fijian lack of fitness tell and the Italians quickly scored a second pushover try, converted to bring the score to 29-15. Yet, confronted with a tiring pack and with superior fitness, the Italians then insisted on attempting to run the ball, despite an almost total lack of penetration. As a result, they only managed to add a penalty before rain started to fall with about ten minutes to go and the game ended 29-18 to the Fijians, their first victory of 2006.

At that point, the heavens opened and the cheerful crowd, including your reporter, fled for cover...

Help! Am trapped in paradise!

Welcome to Lautoka, here in north-western Fiji. Finally, relaxation has been forced upon me but I thought that I should take time out to report in.

Fiji is warm, friendly and, above all else, slow. Very slow. Slow enough to be vaguely irritating if you let it. On the other hand, if like me you are desperately in need of rest and relaxation, this is an excellent place to be.

This is my fourth day and I have finally ventured out of the resort and around the coast a bit. The reason? International sport, as the Fijians are taking on Italy at rugby union. I sense that the Italians have got their summer tour right. England went to Australia, where it's winter, and got slaughtered. Ireland came to New Zealand, where it's even colder, and got beaten. Scotland went to South Africa, and Wales to Argentina, and they both lost too. Lautoka is a much better option, especially as the Italians actually have a chance of winning.

Otherwise, I've spent time by the pool, drinking the occasional beer and writing my memoirs, as well as planning for the next six months. I've also been practicing for Mauritius in August. Trust me, lying on your back in a beach resort takes real preparation. There are so many things to think about, such as what footwear to bring, what books to read, what music to download into the MP3 player and what excursions to organise.

The next stop is Las Vegas, where I have thirty-nine hours to get over the jetlag, work out which way is up, and explore the bright lights of the big city. Could be fun! More news as we have it...

Blown away in the City of Sails

I woke up this morning and sleepily grabbed the television controls to catch the end of the Angola vs. Portugal game. Nothing happened. I pushed the button again. Still nothing. And then I noticed that the clock in my room was flashing 12:10. I can't have overslept that badly, can I? Look out of the window, rain is blowing sideways against the glass and the wind is gusting at speeds above 60 mph... and I'm on the 27th floor...

Ring reception. "Oh yes, Mr Valladares, there's just been a city wide power failure. We've turned the generators on but nothing else will work until the problem is fixed." Oh, that's alright then. And everyhting is still down, except, curiously, this computer.

Rotorua was as much fun as I suspected it would be. I had my day at the spa (twice), enjoying a mud wrap on Thursday and a pumice exfoliation/Aix massage on Friday, followed by a lazy soak in the thermal pools. Having discovered the joy of spa, I'm amazed that women got away with keeping this secret for so long. What could be better than being mindlessly pampered for a few hours (and no, that isn't intended to be a challenge!)?

Saturday saw me at the top of the zorb slope and I now have a DVD of my first two rolls (isn't technology wonderful?). I really have got a taste for zorbing and would recommend it to virtually anyone. Check out www.zorb.com for more information...

Yesterday was a travel day and I made it safely to Auckland, got to the hotel and snagged an upgrade to the Crowne Plaza Club floor (free continental breakfast, free computer access, free drinks and nibbles in the evening...). But, yet again, I find myself sharing the hotel with rugby players. Last year, the Wests Tigers rugby league team were staying here, led by their star player, Benji Marshall. He's not very big, but when you see him in lycra, you understand why he's so popular (if you know what I mean). What there is is all muscle and he's certainly powerful for his size.

This time, the hotel is inhabited by the Irish rugby union squad, fresh from their 34-23 defeat by the All Blacks in Hamilton. Their scrum was pushed all over the park by the men in black in that game, but they pluckily fought for the full eighty minutes. I don't hold out a lot of hope for them in the second game though.

Finally, I got to meet the newest member of the Valladares family, Georgia, who is just 37 days old. She's kind of cute in a "small baby, can't tell who she takes after yet" sort of way. I'll add some pictures at some point...

Sometimes, a layover is a good thing...

I have to admit that I wasn't looking forward to the latest leg of my journey, Osaka to Rotorua via Tokyo and Auckland. With a 4.30 a.m. start, a nine hour layover in Tokyo and a four hour layover in Auckland, it didn't seem very promising...

But what of Kyoto? Well, I'm not a great temple person, it seems. They're all very pretty but I get greater pleasure out of feeding the koi (carp, and big ones too...) than out of the temples themselves. In the end, I took a day trip to Nara to visit the world's biggest wooden structure - coincidentally, a temple, I admit - with the most enormous statue of Buddha. I also took the opportunity to feed some of the national treasures wandering around the grounds.

Yes, the big thing to do is to feed the deer. Special biscuits are baked and sold to visitors, who then feed the deer. Watching Japanese schoolgirls squeal as they are assailed by hungry deer is quite amusing but these creatures mean business and will take a bite at your trousers if you aren't being sufficiently attentive. They are cute though...

I also got some shopping done. Two of my favourite stores are Muji and Uniqlo, both of which are ludicrously expensive at home. Not in Kyoto, they aren't. So I have some useful things to bring home with me.

Anyway, back to the journey. I got to Tokyo easily enough but what to do? I decided to go to Chiba by train and arrived to find quite a decent sized city. Best of all, it has a monorail, and not just a silly little thing to serve the central city area but a real commuter line. Well, I had to go for a ride, didn't I? I managed to fill about six hours, what with getting there and back by train, lunch and some browsing in local shops.

And now, here I am in Auckland, awaiting my connecting flight. I've grabbed a shower, some decent snack food and a very decent glass of sauvignon blanc (Koru Club lounges are wonderful) and feel like a human being - again.

The next stage is a relaxing one, with my annual day at the spa and another chance to go zorbing. Should be fun...

Once is unfortunate, but three times?

The recent accusations that an American unit massacred a group of twenty-four innocent civilians in the Iraqi town of Haditha have come to the forefront due to the actions of US Congressman Jon Murtha from Pennsylvania. Murtha is a Democrat but, more importantly, he is a distinguished veteran and something of a hawk.

Normally, you would expect the Bush Administration to repeat its standard tactic of playing the man not the ball but in this instance, the evidence now appears overwhelming. A Pentagon official, commenting anonymously, confirmed that an initial investigation found evidence that Marines had killed the civilians and that forensic reports of bullet wounds contradict the troops' statement that fifteen of the dead were killed by an insurgent bomb.

Parallels with the infamous 1968 My Lai massacre in Vietnam are unavoidable and if there are any neutrals in America on the subject of the Iraq war, I imagine that many of them will be making their minds up now. Of course, I had a close up look at that a few days ago in Ho Chi Minh City and now I find that there is a third incident, one that took place in a small Korean town called No Gun Ri in 1951, which is still being denied by the United States despite growing evidence.

It is not denied that a number of Korean civilians were shot dead as they approached a part of the frontline defended by the 7th US Cavalry Division. The official explanation was that panicked soldiers opened fire for fear that the approaching civilians could conceal enemy troops. And yet, veterans of the 7th US Cavalry Division claim that they were simply following orders to fire on refugees.

The issue has rumbled on and in 2001, the Pentagon issued a report which concluded that the shooting of Korean refugees was "not a deliberate killing". Unfortunately, amongst the microfilms reviewed as part of the process of producing that report, there now emerges a copy of a letter from the then US Ambassador to South Korea, John J Murcio, to Assistant Secretary of State Dean Rusk, stating that "refugees will be shot" if they advance towards American soldiers. Murcio said that he was informing Rusk "in view of the possibility of repercussions in the United States" from the implementation of the policy. Clearly, he thought that the policy was wrong, even if others didn't.

So, a coverup? Shoddy research? A combination of the two? Maybe, but it doesn't show up the US military in a good light and this in a country which is one of the most loyal allies the United States has...

Me, my friends and I on happiness

One of the problems with travelling alone is that it can be a bit isolating. I have to admit that the ability to turn to someone you care about and say, "isn't that X?", is an important one. And so, gentle reader, you'll have to stand in today.

Today, I thought that I would go to the zoo, here in Seoul. I'm rather fond of zoos, as I'm rather fond of animals. And whilst it was warm (about 29 degrees), it seemed like a good idea (for reference, I visited the zoo in Louisville, Kentucky on a day when it was minus 18 degrees celsius so my dedication is unquestionable).

What I didn't expect was that the zoo at Seoul Grand Park is rather "audience participation" in nature. The first picture is of my new friend, whose name I can't pronounce (it's Korean). He appeared unexpectedly with his keeper and, given that I'd gone all the way to malayan Borneo to see his relatives in the wild, how could I resist? As a cat owner, I know that the best way to make friends with an animal is to offer a hand very slowly so that the animal can respond. My new friend reached out, and held my hand, and then stroked my fur. So I stroked his and we spent a few moments bonding. Orangutans are such gentle creatures and it saddens me that their prospects in the wild are, frankly, rather grim. They have fingernails and long, delicate fingers and it was one of the most fun things I have done in many years.

I then went on to do something that I might never have done in the past. My next friend is an albino Burmese python, and I'd like to thank the keeper who kindly asked me if I had a camera so that he could take this shot. Isn't he cute?

Next, I found myself in a queue, being passed a plastic glove and, eventually, a whole fish (quite an attractive one, as a matter of fact), which I was encouraged to toss to a waiting sealion. Now, of course, I'm an expert in this particular art, knowing that you must toss the fish head first, as it is easier to swallow that way. Naturally, I spotted my sealion and tossed the fish straight down her throat. Gooooaaaaallll, Valladares!

Finally, I found myself at the elk enclosure, and encountered a friendly creature. It would seem that, having passed the giraffe taste test, elks find me quite palatable too, as my hand was thoroughly tasted by my elk friend, much to the amusement of the watching Koreans.

Being a foreigner in Korea is a bit like being a zoo exhibit. Small children wave and smile at you (and of course, I smile and wave back), and school children try to test their English out on you. Years of experience in India make it rather easier for me but I could imagine it being a bit daunting for a first time visitor.

And so, back to my hotel room, which has a computer in it, thus allowing me to post these pictures.

A report from the deep end

Gosh, when it rains here, it really means it.

For the second successive day, my sightseeing has been ended by the onset of a violent electrical storm and an attempt by the Mekong to reclaim these parts from the air. So I've retreated to the hotel for a workout followed by massage (no sniggering at the back, a real spa massage...).

Unfortunately, the Reunification Palace was closed today, due to the APEC (Asia Pacific

Economic Co-operation) meeting taking place here, with the Americans in attendance. I did get to the War Remnants Museum, which is quite dramatic.

Ho Chi Minh City also has an excellent post office (very French influenced) and quite a nice cathedral.

Must dash now though, next report will be from Seoul (probably)!

Who wants to be a millionaire? Looks like I have no choice...

Much to my own personal surprise, I find myself a millionaire today.

There are more than 30,000 Vietnamese Dong to the Pound so, on arrival, I hit the first ATM I found (for those of you planning on visiting Ho Chi Minh City, there are two at the airport and both accept Abbey-issued VISA ATM cards) and withdrew 2,000,000 Dong, in crisp 50,000 Dong notes.

So, what do I think of Vietnam so far? Travelling in the city is like being surrounded by a swarm of bees, with the buzzing of mopeds and 125cc motorcycles everywhere you go. Crossing the street is like crossing the start of a race, with ranks of riders waiting to surge away as soon as the light changes in their favour.

It's very humid here, with humidity at about 80% and when it rains, it takes it very seriously, with torrential downpours and fabulously explosive electrical storms. I sat one out drinking draught stout in the ubiquitous Irish bar, Sheridan's.

One of the quirky features of the city are xe om, which are motorcycle taxis. You don't need to flag them down, as there seem to be thousands across the city, eager to take you wherever you want to go (for a price, naturally!). Having spent four days in Mumbai riding around on the back of my uncle's bike, I wasn't terribly tempted but if the price of a taxi is anything to go by (13,000 Dong pick-up and 7-8,000 Dong per km thereafter), they're probably very cheap. Don't worry, they'll find you long before you start looking for them.

Ho Chi Minh City is a mix of free market vibrance and old-fashioned control economy. I found myself in a coffee bar which would look entirely at home in New York or London, with baristas, iced coffee and wifi access. Young people with laptops and western clothes wandered in and out, presumably discussing the sorts of things that young people discuss everywhere (unfortunately, I don't speak Vietnamese).

There is a stock exchange and you can read the overseas press, watch foreign television and unless you checked your passport for the visa which is headed 'Socialist Republic of Vietnam', you wouldn't really guess that you were in a notionally communist country.

I am certainly intrigued enough to want to come back for a real explore and, if you want to find out what a modern communist state looks like, this would be an excellent place to start. But don't delay too much, I can't imagine that it will stay like this for long...

Good afternoon, Vietnam

So, here I am and boy, is it sticky? Walking out of the airport terminal was like walking into an outdoor sauna but, thanks to my prescience in arranging for a car to deliver me safely to the hotel, I was able to get to a place of sanctuary quite quickly.

My first impression is that Ho Chi Minh City is quite a lot like Mumbai, lots of people, lots of mopeds and small engined motorcycles. I'm looking forward to an explore this afternoon so, rather than rattle on any further, I'm off for a closer look at the Socialist Republic of Vietnam...

Taking protest to a different level

Curiously, given my thoughts on quotas in the past, the big issue in India in recent days has been the decision of the Government to guarantee 27% of university places to OBC (Other Backward Castes) students.

This attempt at blatant positive discrimination is entirely consistent with existing policy but the fear now is that, once the various quotas are accounted for, there are insufficient places left for children from India's increasingly large, urban middle class.

So the protests have begun and, for any student union politicians who might be reading this, you ought to realise that you are so far behind in terms of commitment that it might make you wonder why you bother.

To start with, protesting students have produced banners written in their own blood (yes, I did say blood, and I've seen the photographs) and then progressed to hunger strikes. One group have even approached the President to seek permission to be allowed to die! Given that I am opposed to quotas, you might not be surprised to hear that I am broadly supportive of their stance, if not their methods.

If a government is truly committed to improving take up rates for currently disadvantaged groups, they have to give them the means to compete. It must be accepted that for a nation like India, this is more than normally difficult, and it does clash with the country's bascially socialist ethos. But I can't help feeling that the knowledge that my doctor had earned his place because of who his parents were rather than because of his scholastic merit might lead me to seek a second opinion...

Oh yes, and for the benefit of one of my readers, Harley Davidson are looking to start sales of their estimable products in India. Should be interesting...

It ain't 'arf hot, Mum!

It's 93 degrees, humidity is at about 70%, and I'm sheltering in an internet cafe near Eagle's Nest, the family manse here in Mahim, one of Mumbai's now inner suburbs - it's entirely relative, I know.

Having conquered my jetlag, I ventured into the city by bus to do a little shopping and to reacquaint myself with the sort of conditions that will be commonplace on this part of my journey (Vietnam will be very similar). The traffic was surprisingly free-flowing (if England's midfield is equally uncongested, we've got a chance) and I made very good time.

Mumbai is still one of the most vibrant cities I've ever visited, full of life, cattle, noise and street drama, and it is good to be 'home'. The next few days will be a whirl of family, and it's nice to be surrounded by familiar faces for part of this trip.

Tomorrow, I'll be hoping to rediscover the days of the colonial Raj, so more news then...

I'm on my way from misery to Luxembourg today...

With apologies to the Proclaimers, and a few days too late... but I liked the line, and don't see why I shouldn't use it, just because I'm in Mumbai!

I somehow managed to get virtually everything done before I left for Luxembourg and, despite a few alarms, I reached my hotel safely on Saturday evening whilst my luggage enjoyed Saturday night in Frankfurt. Not a great start...

Luxembourg was surprisingly pleasant though, and quite easy to get around. So I went drinking in Wiltz (an eminently drinkable riesling for the record), castle exploring in Vianden and hiking in the Ardennes south of Clervaux. It's a very pretty place and well worth an explore.

Politics in Luxembourg is normally pretty dull but the latest French financial scandal (Chirac and De Villepin's apparent attempt to smear Sarkozy) has its heart in the Grand Duchy, as Clearstream, the financial institution alleged to have been used as the conduit for passing on slush money, is Luxembourg based. The locals are worried about the implications for banking secrecy, especially given that the country's wealth is closely linked to its ability to attract bank deposits from rich French and German residents - not always with an aim towards evading tax...

And now I'm in Mumbai, visiting my family for a few days before the next stop on the 2006 Valladares world tour, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.

More news as it comes in!

An unexpected sense of loss

Today's word is 'weltschmerz'...

Pronunciation: 'velt-"shmerts

Function: noun

Usage: often capitalized

Etymology: German, from Welt world + Schmerz pain

1 : mental depression or apathy caused by comparison of the actual state of the world with an ideal state

2 : a mood of sentimental sadness

I've not had a great day. I'm tired, I'm frustrated and, worst of all, I've only just realised it. There's a decided feeling of fin de siecle in the air and I've no desire to deny it anymore. I've been so busy trying to fulfil my obligations that I failed to realise that I wasn't enjoying them, and the very fact that I consider them to have been obligations is, in itself, somehow disconcerting.

So, what to do? Well, I could just write the longest resignation letter in history, and it would have to be to take in all the roles I've taken on over the past eighteen months. Alternatively, I could disappear in search of my sense of joy. Perhaps I might remember where I left it... So, let's see what happens if I use Frederich von Schiller as my inspiration...

Freude, schöner Götterfunken,

Tochter aus Elysium,

wir betreten feuertrunken,

Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!

Deine Zauber binden wieder,

was die Mode streng geteilt:

alle Menschen werden Brüder,

wo dein snafter Flügel weilt.

And with that, Mark was gone, who knew where, in search of who knew what.

An apology can be a matter of honour

It has been brought to my attention that what I took to be a mildly amusing reference to one of my Conservative opponents has in fact really upset her. Now given my apparent reputation for being quite a gentleman at heart (I'm kind to animals, try to see the best in people and am loyal to my friends), I am disappointed that my frog-related postings have had such an impact.

Accordingly, it is therefore entirely appropriate that I offer a sincere public apology to Cllr Robin Crookshank Hilton for any offence caused by my reference to what is, to be frank, a bizarre and curiously anonymous attack on her character posted on the Internet. Given that I have no real interest as to what she, or anyone else, does in their spare time as long as it is legal, it would certainly be wrong of me to condemn, or even allude to condemnation of, her extra-curricular activities.

It is no defence to suggest that my series of frog references was merely an expression of a well-developed sense of whimsy (although those of you who know me will acknowledge that it is one of my more eccentric traits) and it is therefore a matter of honour to offer her this apology. A colleague will be conveying something a little more tangible as a peace offering, and I hope that it can be accepted in the spirit in which it is intended.

I would make one small request in return. If I do upset one of our local Conservatives again, and it isn't my current intention to do so, it might be more effective to approach me directly rather than approach our Group Leader. You see, it puts him in a rather awkward position because, whilst I have an ex-officio role within the Group as a Local Party Chair, he has no influence or control over me other than the regard in which I hold him. I actually like Nick a lot and am loyal to him and the Group, but still... just a thought, eh?

What about my human rights?

For liberal civil servants, it's been a pretty ghastly weekend.

First, the Government start to float the idea that the Human Rights Act is causing problems in terms of their crime and community safety goals. If that wasn't bad enough, this morning's newspapers are full of claims that our Prime Minister is proposing to 'rescue' public services.

The Human Rights Act was one of the key things that led me to believe in 1997 that a Labour government would be, on balance, not unbearable (it didn't lead me to vote for them but...). The concept that citizens might have certain inalienable rights was long overdue and it was, after all, Liberal Democrat policy.

Recent events have conspired to create an atmosphere whereby it is possible to link any instance where the criminal justice system has failed to a 'complication brought about by the Human Rights Act'. The fact that in every instance, the problem could more validly be connected to an administrative failure, is not mentioned. Why? Bureaucracy is hated even more than 'liberal lawyers'. If politicians (and I don't spare Liberal Democrats from this charge - are you reading this, Vince Cable?) insist on slagging off the civil service at every opportunity, you hardly encourage the best and the brightest to join, do you? Most errors are committed, quite innocently, by junior members of staff trying to keep the system operating with judicious use of string and sealing wax. Training is poor, procedural changes too frequent, reforms ever ongoing.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Pay your bureaucrats properly, get the best, and you could make real savings by cutting the number of staff needed to fix problems caused by not having the ability to do things properly in the first place. A lot of what we do is process driven and there are usually only limited options. The secret is to know what those options are and, most important of all, why each is relevant and what impact it might have.

And so we are to be rescued... by a man who, quite frankly, appears to hate us and all that we stand for. Earth to Leader, Earth to Leader, you've been in charge for nine years now, so it must be your fault, mustn't it? How long can you blame previous administrations before your credibility runs out? The public sector doesn't need rescuing, it needs some certainty and a little tender loving care. That doesn't mean throwing a shedload of money at it, nor does it mean increasing staffing numbers. What it means is coming up with a clear concept of what government does, what it can do and what it should do?

Here's an outline draft for you to play with...

• government protects the citizenry from external and internal threats to its safety, defines a framework within which society interacts and provides core public services to enable equality of opportunity
• government can enable people to take control of their own lives, create a level playing field of opportunity, not of outcome, and protect those less able to protect themselves
• government should support freedom of the individual within the context of a free society, accept that its actions should be justified and, equally important, accountable and act as a force for good in a multilateral world

The concepts aren't difficult, the practice is, but it comes down to building a partnership with all of the stakeholders (to steal some classic New Labour jargon). I'm a stakeholder too, both as a civil servant and as a taxpayer. So at least look as though you care, can't you?...