Quick Lit: September 2019

Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy for Quick Lit as usual. August was pretty slow on the reading front because we moved house and I travelled - and had lots of copies of Country Living magazine to catch up on while on the beach in Dorset. Not to mention scouring second hand book shops and summer fetes for titles and authors on my TBR list, and to stock my son's library. And - literary confession - I gave up on an audio version of The Pickwick Papers after I fell asleep three times while trying to listen. Maybe I need a new narrator or the paper version to keep my attention.

Pym illustrating how I feel when I read one of her novels

Barbara Pym - Jane and Prudence
I came late to discovering Barbara Pym, but she is now a firm favourite. To say I am working through her books would be a mis-description, because they are never work. As I have said before, they are light and witty without being shallow. She is, for many, the Jane Austen of the 1950s, with the backdrop of London, the suburbs, and the Church of England. Her heroines live lives, if not of quiet desperation, at least of quiet compromise. In Pym's eyes, post-war Britain is still in so many ways a world for men. The role of women is to support and soothe, whether as the wife at home, or the career woman whose position is inevitably that of serving a male boss. But don't let that description put you off - she tells her stories with a wry humour, and her female characters triumph by being more aware of the game than the men. Jane and Prudence follows this pattern: Jane is the promising academic who married a clergyman, whereas her younger friend, Prudence, is the spinster working woman who may have her love affairs, but is never asked to be the wife. Jane's desire to set Prudence up with a young widower in her husband's new parish becomes a catalyst that awakens rivals on all sides and gives Prudence new insight into herself and her chosen path. I identified so much with Jane: the aborted academic career in English literature, quotes that pop into her head for every occasion, and the wish to make witty but inappropriate comments on situations (excepting that she is loud, and I am withdrawn). Pym remarks in this book that Prudence likes to read the sort of novel without a definite ending, just like real life, a defense of her own conclusions, which, although bringing the immediate plot to a close, and remaining hopeful, never let us see a concrete future for her characters. Pym's career languished in the mid 60s-70s when she was deemed out of step with the times, but this injustice was happily overturned by the championing of other distinguished British writers. Long may she reign everywhere there is a pot of tea and a jumble sale.

Trying to show a few of my finds, plus a view down the street from our new house in Koper

Jane Austen - Sense and Sensibility
Ok, I confess, one reason I re-read this was so I could imagine Alan Rickman as Colonel Brandon (it was a tough month). I haven't read Austen since I got through all her novels as a young adult. I was glad to find that it was just as riveting thirty years later. In my teens, I was a little dubious about Marianne's 'happy' ending with someone as old as thirty-four, but now Brandon seems the true romantic hero of the novel. And FYI, Emma Thompson's screenplay is the only film that I have ever declared "as good as the book".

Colleen L. Donnelly - Out of Splinters and Ashes [audiobook]
This was a first for me - I've never before listened to an audiobook written by someone I know (Colleen is a member of my online critique group). In this historical novel with a slight paranormal slant, a German journalist travels to the US in the hopes he can dispel a disturbing accusation: that his writer grandmother had a child by an enemy lover on the brink of the Second World War. Truth and fiction merge in surprising ways in this lyrical novel with a difference. This was a finalist for the prestigious Indie RONE award.

On a vaguely literary front, while in Dorset, I visited the grave of T.E. Lawrence in Moreton village, aka (if you don't know) Lawrence of Arabia, so here's a couple of snaps. I have the badge for reading his hefty, genre-defying literary memoir Seven Pillars of Wisdom (and a bonus badge for his Oxford thesis, Crusader Castles).

Have you ever listened to an audiobook read by someone you know, or do you have any recommendations for narrators of Charles Dickens' novels?

Quick Lit August 2019

I was feeling it was time for a change, and to bring book reviews more in line with the general point of the blog, so for this and maybe future link ups with Modern Mrs Darcy I decided to feature one book, be briefer with the others, and highlight good travel reads. Hope it works.

Caroline Fraser - Prairie Fires: The American Dreams of Laura Ingalls Wilder
I've mentioned before that, being British and only having read the Little House books as an adult, I don't have the same emotional investment in Laura the person as many US readers - and what an investment that is, judging from the impassioned reader reviews of this Pulitzer-Prize winning biography. Still, even I felt the almost bodily blows as I plunged into the full extent of the homesteading failures of both Laura's parents and herself and Almanzo, and I am not ashamed to say that I had to choke back tears as I read of Almanzo's death. It is, though, ultimately a story of victory, of the little girl who weathered poverty and starvation to become an author beloved around the world, who rallied a nation in the midst of the Great Depression and immortalized the values of the pioneers. There's a lot of general history to set Laura's story within context (which I admit to not always reading very closely), and you may take issue with Fraser's opinions (she certainly doesn't like Laura's daughter, Rose Wilder Lane), but it was a fascinating read. She deals honestly with difficult subjects as well, such as Laura's ambiguous attitudes towards race, not unusual for her time, but jarring to us today. My favourite part was, of course, the writing of the Little House books, with Fraser's analysis of the literary mystery as to the extent of the collaboration between Laura and Rose, an established journalist. My girls are grown, but I am already wondering if my little boy will stand to have the books read aloud to him. Surely plucky Laura appeals to boys and girls alike?

Oscar Wilde - The Canterville Ghost [audiobook]
This is the sole reason I signed up for the Audiofile SYNC YA summer reading giveaway (though I ended up downloading a few other books). I know I read it as a child, but there is only one scene, from the end, that sticks in my memory. A comic short story of ancient English ghost meets progressive American family. Nice theatrical production, with a  wonderful range of tongue-in-cheek voices by Rupert Degas that captures Wilde's satire.

*BEACH READ* Jenny Colgan - Summer at Little Beach Street Bakery
I thought this sequel was possibly better than the first. Polly, her American boyfriend Huckle, and their pet puffin, Neil, seem to be enjoying the perfect life living in their lighthouse and running a bakery on Polbearne island. But when unexpected disaster strikes, they must temporarily separate in order to save the life they love. Will it work out? Of course, this is Jenny Colgan, so I knew the answer to that, but she had me glued to the book as usual.

Sayaka Murata - Convenience Store Woman [audiobook]
Keiko has been stuck in her convenience store job for eighteen years. Socially dysfunctional, it offers a world of set rules that help her navigate life. But her friends would rather she was a 'normal' person with a partner and problems than the happy abnormal person she is. Funny, sweet, and disturbing by turns, with a sensitive narration by Nancy Wu with just a hint of an accent to get us into character.

Alex Martin - Daffodils
I am trying to make myself read the backlog of books that I got for free, just because they looked interesting at the time. This is the first in a family saga series. Circumstances curtail Katy's wish for adventure before settling down, but then World War I brings upheavals and opportunities she has never dreamed of. A light read.

Wishing you the best for end of summer reading!

Medieval Days 2: Celje Castle

I tagged along (in a semi-official capacity) to the annual maths workshop in Rogla again this July. Here's last year's post. I didn't write an update because, with no elder children to serve as babysitters, my experience was not as hedonistic or adventurous as last time. (Basically I took the four year-old swimming every morning and read chick lit while he was passed out in the afternoon.)

Anyhow... on the way back we decided to stop off at Celje Grad (Celje Castle), with Ted's American PhD student in tow. The Counts of Celje rose to power during the medieval period. In an effort to free themselves from subordination to the Hapsburgs, they forged an alliance with Hungary, which propelled them onto the scene of medieval European politics and helped them rise to the rank of Princes of the Holy Roman Empire. Unfortunately, their line petered out soon after and ended with the assassination of the last heir in 1456. Their castle in Celje was abandoned in the 18th century.

Photo credit: www.celje.si

We visited a castle they owned in Croatia, Veliki Tabor, at the end of our Krapina holiday, but I never got around to writing about that visit. It was interesting to note that both castles claimed to be the site of the infamous, tragic legend of an heir to Celje, Frederick, and his low-born love, Veronika. I think that's worth a blog post in itself, but in summary, Frederick's father, Herman II, not too much of a nice guy by all accounts, forced his son to marry dynastically. Frederick fell in love with a non-noble woman,Veronika, and abandoned his wife. Herman demanded a reconciliation, but mysteriously (or not, ahem), Frederick's wife was found assassinated the morning after, and the two lovers went on the run. The irate father eventually captured them, had Veronika drowned, and threw Frederick into a tower for several years of solitary confinement.

Barbara became Queen of Hungary, Bohemia and the Holy Roman Empire

The infamous Herman

The castle claims to be the largest (by area) in Slovenia. I don't know if that is true, but the visit was pretty much castle tour plus bonus thigh workout, climbing hills, ramparts and towers, surrounded by wonderful views. They seem to have rotating, often interactive, exhibits, so not everything was open (including, sadly, the virtual reality combat zone).

Yes, I am looking red, a result of my "forest bathing" experience in Rogla

A tour of our tour: The museum tower recreated castle rooms, complete with costumed mannequins: the armoury, a scribe's room, and a solar (lord and lady's living room). "Look," said our son, "there's a dead monk... and there's a dead princess."

Dead monk hard at work

"Frederick's Tower" was the supposed place of imprisonment for the disobedient son - where, according to accounts he almost starved to death and/or went insane. It posed a less serious dilemma for us: climb to the top first for the panoramic view, or down to the dungeon for the exhibition of torture instruments? We decided the tougher part was the climb, so that first, egged on our way by curiously computer-generated images of Veronika and Frederick. And then down to the torture chamber, which I went round swiftly, with the lightest of explanations to Alcuin. "Look at those funny hats people had to wear if they were bad!" Apparently this sort of torture was going on into the 18th century, which shocked me. I only took one photo, for the blog, because it turns my stomach if I think too much about what those devices actually inflicted on people (the wheel, the rack, the iron maiden... you get it).

Just...ouch

In a grassy, thankfully shady, inner ward to the side of the castle gate, there was a small medieval encampment, part of their living history programme, where we enjoyed our picnic. Whereas the players at Kubed waited for us to step into their world, the people here were aggressively interactive, almost leaping on us to drag us into the medieval spirit. There was a chance to dress up, handle weapons and armour, practise archery, check out cooking and camping, play an outsize game of skittles, or experience the tamer punishments of the stocks.

That's an unfortunate shaft of sunlight falling on Ted's head - not a bald spot

A stop at the somewhat ironically-named Veronika cafe - feeling thirsty, anyone? - rounded out the visit (plus a visit to the toilets, which curiously looked more like a modern art installation than a loo). Apparently, the Counts of Celje owned more than twenty castles in Slovenia alone, so I suspect we will be bumping into them again.


Touristy stuff. Good value. The entrance price for all four of us was about the same as one ticket for a National Trust or English Heritage property, plus we got credit for the cafe, which had normal (i.e. not tourist) prices. Plus, there were detailed, free guidebooks. During the summer, there are various events such as tournaments and concerts (with a major medieval event towards the end of August), and you can also book extras such as guided tours or a medieval feast. The website is not very good, though. Here is some basic info via the Celje tourist site, and their facebook page. We would have explored downtown, too (Celje is the third largest city in Slovenia), but it was a very hot day, and we knew it would be miserable traipsing around surrounded by concrete. We definitely plan to go back.

Medieval Days 1: Kubed

The village of Kubed, within the municipality of Koper, and not too far from the more famous Hrastovlje, puts on a yearly medieval festival. It runs over two days, with evening games and entertainment Friday night, and a pilgrimage-style hike of the region Saturday morning (apparently with goulash thrown in), followed by festivities on the grounds of a ruined castle fortress. With our teenager away in the UK digging up the Dorset landscape, we had no extra help with the hurricane that is our four year-old, so we had to opt for one event that looked child-friendly. We went for Saturday afternoon.

Taking a chance on the thunder showers sweeping across the region (see photo above), we set off up the ubiquitous winding roads, forearmed against the satnav inevitably missing the crucial hairpin turn. When we got to Kubed (someone was there to direct parking, hurrah), we got to wind uphill again, but on foot this time. But we were rewarded with free shots of local liqueurs - except Ted declined because he thought he'd be facing insane drivers on the mountain road home responsible.

In a fun (and clever) marketing ploy, we had to exchange our euros for the festival currency, the cubidum. And we had to exchange that within minutes for a child who saw all the food stalls and decided he was starving.

Not much was going on yet, though it was past starting time. There was a ring with assorted 'medieval' weapons for children to kill each other with. Alcuin was itching to jump in the fray, but it was mostly monopolized by older children, and he couldn't understand why it wasn't a good idea to throw himself in the middle of no-holds-barred eight year-olds. Eventually, the small(ish) kids got to take over, and he had his time in the ring.

At last! Something happened: a bunch of cosplay people processed up and down the pathway. As you can see below, included in the procession were people in national costume, who proceeded to put on a little play for bystanders. From my amazing grasp of Slovene, I can tell you it was about eggs and sausages, and then they played the accordion.

After that, it was historical reenactment time: players hung out by the armoury and practice areas, interacting with anyone who wanted, with music and dancing. And medieval drinking, which they deserved for wearing all those clothes - and armour - in the heat. One fun addition to the festival was a full-size combined trebuchet and catapult. When they felt like it, the players livened proceedings by lobbing some (non destructive) ammunition at the castle wall.

This isn't a great picture, but you need to note the chairs, because they appear in the next post, too!

Someone rashly let Alcuin handle a bow twice as big as he is. I stood well back to take the photo.

Finally, much later than advertised, and just as we were about to give up and leave, the combat began. And, after the wait, it was pretty good - professional and well scripted. But we had been there too many hours: Alcuin had reached the end of his attention span, and it was time to head off before all was over, thankful that we had missed the thunderstorms, and wiser for the next visit.

Ted pronounced that it was the sort of thing that would be more fun if you went in a group, with a designated driver (i.e. not him). I have to say that worrying trying to outrun (outdrive) the storms also made it less of a good time for him. I'd like to participate in some of the other events as well, so maybe there will be an update post coming!

Postscript. On the way to the car, Alcuin tripped on the pavement. It was a seminal moment - his first bad fall on concrete. He wasn't badly injured, but he was so traumatized he refused to walk for the next 24 hours. I had to carry him everywhere. Honestly, he is the most single-minded child we have, and that is saying something.

Touristy stuff. The festival, Medieval Days in Kubed, runs around the beginning of July. Here's a link to this year's festival (still working at time of posting), and one to a tad of history about the place. I promise, it's far from the worst mountain road we have been on. It's Slovenia, so you might want to turn up a little later than advertised - that's what the locals in the know seemed to be doing. If you are dedicated to efficient tourism (don't have small children), you might also squeeze in the famous Dance of Death fresco at nearby Hrastovlje.

Quick Lit July 2019

 Linking up with Modern Mrs. Darcy as usual. I didn't read too much in June. For one, I was in the US attending my daughter's graduation - and getting in a little literary pilgrimage to Salem, home of Nathaniel Hawthorne. For two, we are in the throes of purchasing a house. And three, I was a beta reader for an upcoming historical novel, which I loved but can't reveal!

Picnicking in front of the House of the Seven Gables in Salem!

Robin Sloan - Mr Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore
I picked this out of the library in my daughter's dorm house in Cambridge, MA, while staying there for her graduation (from MIT, excuse the proud parent moment). It's a tale of ancient literary mystery meets Google (quite literally). Out-of-work Clay stumbles into a job as a night clerk at Mr Penumbra's bookstore, and soon discovers that the mysterious night-time customers are novices and initiates into a centuries-old secret society. With the aid of his tech-savvy friends, he sets about finding the final solution to the coded secret left by its founders. I especially enjoyed how this novel wove friendships across generations and celebrates the craftsmanship of both the past and the future.

Barbara Pym - Less Than Angels
I was feeling in a slump, and Pym is always the perfect pick-me-up. Her books are light and witty, but never shallow. In this 1950s comedy of manners, she draws on her experiences working at the International African Institute in London to pen a tale of love and petty rivalries among anthropologists, dissecting the lives of those who consider themselves experts at dissecting the lives of others. This novel has a larger cast of characters than other Pym novels I have read, and it was hard to keep everyone straight at first (you know, all those kinship ties), but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Where The Scarlet Letter began: the Custom House, Salem

Katherine Pym - The Barbers
Surnames a coincidence! This roistering Restoration tale is from a member of my online critique group, one in a series (not particularly interlinked) of London novels leading up to the Great Fire. Celia illegally practises surgery in her father's barber shop, a career not generally allowed to women, and then only outside the City of London. She is naturally skilled, with psychic powers that match her scientific curiosity. However, Celia's greatest threat is not her status but her ne'er-do-well family, who continually threaten to come between her, success and love. Katherine Pym's unusual style seeks to immerse you into a 17th-century experience - this is for you if you want a fun read with a difference.

And, Make Way for Ducklings in Boston Public Garden! (Mrs Mallard's and my own)

Ruth Hogan - The Keeper of Lost Things
Author Anthony Peardew has been collecting lost things since the tragic day forty years ago he lost not one but two precious things in his life. Now, he leaves his legacy to housekeeper and assistant, Laura, herself a 'lost thing' he rescued after a confidence-shattering divorce. Laura's mission is to reunite objects and owners - but she has to deal with lost souls as well as lost objects who need happy endings (including her own). A sweet, magical story.

Any plans to make your own literary pilgrimage this summer? Happy reading!

Quick Lit June 2019

Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy for our monthly book reviews. On reflection, there seems to be a slight philosophical/ spiritual slant to the past month's reading, whether inspired by chickens or monsters. Hope one of these inspires you, too!

Rumer Godden - Black Narcissus
A small group of British nuns leave their mother house in India to found a new mission in a disused palace among the Himalayas. But, caught up in no man's land, in a place between heaven and earth, and a building that seems to retain the spirit of its amoral foundation, each sister finds herself confronting personal demons. The theme of the 'civilised' Westerner who finds everything she believes called into question when confronted by a strange, 'permissive', culture is nothing new, but in Godden's hands it is fresh and compelling - I was hooked.

James Runcie - Sidney Chambers and the Shadow of Death
James Runcie, it turns out, is the son of late Archbishop of Canterbury Robert Runcie, who, coincidentally, is the only Archbishop I have ever met in person, when he visited my school back in the eighties. Shameless name dropping apart, my point is that this author knows the Church of England and its priesthood intimately, and that shows through warmly in this collection of short detective stories featuring Sidney Chambers, canon of Grantchester and reluctant detective. On the other hand, he seems to know the 1950s less thoroughly, because he is annoyingly quick to give Sidney modern sensibilities on moral questions. I declare it very entertaining, but not illuminating. I believe it is a TV series now, but I haven't regularly watched TV since, well, Robert Runcie was Archbishop of Canterbury.

Alice Walker - The Chicken Chronicles: Sitting with the Angels who have Returned with my Memories: Glorious, Rufus, Gertrude Stein, Splendor, Hortensia, Agnes of God, the Gladyses, & Babe [audiobook, read by Walker]
I kept my own flock of chickens (and ducks) up until we moved a year ago, so I completely get Alice Walker's Chicken Love. This short memoir explores how her decision to raise a flock of chickens, something she had not done since childhood, unexpectedly leads to her understanding her past and seeing the present in a new light. It's a wide-ranging and candid reveal of Walker's life, art, and opinions, and based on her blog, so ideal if you want something you can digest in small chunks. I suspect that hearing it in Walker's voice was better than reading it, though. I found it fascinating, but if you think the only good chicken comes fried or roasted, and anyone who is a "Chicken Mommy" is a little crazy, this might not be for you.

John Gardner - Grendel [audiobook]
It's tough when you are simultaneously suffering an existential crisis and the urge to bite off heads -  that seems to be the gist of this retelling of Beowulf from the point of view of its most famous monster. Following Grendel's stream of consciousness through various philosophical positions (with a zodiac theme thrown in for good measure) made this a challenging listen - unlike The Chicken Chronicles, it might have been better on paper. Ultimately, I just could not get into it, as there was no one to empathise with. I think it was Gardner's intention that the reader is unsettled and unable to pigeonhole Grendel as man or monster, but for me, he did not quite pull it off. But while I am on the topic, in contrast, I wholeheartedly recommend Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf.

Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows - The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
I bought this at a church fete because of all the hype - and then didn't open it for months for the same reason (I don't tend to like popular books, or epistolary novels). But I am glad I did, because it had a tone I loved (light, witty) and eccentric characters you could root for (unlike Grendel). Briefly, author Juliet falls into accidental correspondence with a group of people who found solace in their impromptu literary society during the German occupation of the Channel Islands. When she travels there to gather more information, she finds much more than the story (and friendships) that she bargained for.

Koper - One Year On

It is somewhat ironic that this one-year review is late because we were back in the States for our daughter's graduation. (And I was resolved to avoid a long flight for as long as I could. Oh well.) But here we go...

I am sitting here trying to decide if it 'feels' like a year. I can't tell. Life back in Mississippi seems like a dream. But here's a few reflections, with an eye to helping others contemplating an overseas move, particularly to a place where you don't speak the language. So let's start there...

Language
I have to look back over the course of a year so as not to be discouraged, and to remind myself that I only got a tutor towards the end of last year. I know vastly more Slovene than I did then - but I still can't hold a conversation. At best, I only ever have 50% of the words I need. Still, I am recognising more words around me - and often more than one word together! I can function in a cafe or restaurant, ask to make an appointment, or tell a shopkeeper than I am "just looking" or ask "how much", as well as make all those standard presentations covered in textbooks (about yourself, your family, your interests, what you are doing - you know the stuff), and that covers everyday life. Our four year-old son quite clearly understands Slovene, but will only answer in English. I am curious to see if the inevitable switch will be gradual or overnight.

My thoughts? If you are in a work/life situation where you are not immersed in the language daily (which is probably the case unless you moved to be a missionary or are in a witness protection programme, because why else would you be doing this crazy thing?), it is going to be a slow slog if you don't already speak a related language or are a linguistic genius. It helps to cultivate an attitude of accepting that you are going to open your mouth and make stupid mistakes.

Culture
I don't think much about cultural differences on a day-to-day basis, so I suppose I have got used to them. Having spent twenty years in the most efficient country in the world, I am now mostly resigned to how long things take here appreciate the slower pace of life.

The Loggia cafe, up the street from my office

One trait I have happily adopted is not worrying about stopping at a cafe for a coffee break. In the US, I would be calculating how often I 'deserved' a coffee out, but here it is pennies, and running errands on foot means there is often a break between meeting people and making appointments. In general, social life takes place outside the home, so don't feel slighted if you are never invited to dinner. And if you are, take off your shoes - there will likely be a basket of guest slippers by the door (you can buy them by the bag in the supermarket). Apparently, some Slovenes have a room at the front of the house where they entertain - and guests are never invited further in. As an introvert, I find this strangely comforting, because I can walk around town and pretend I am participating in Slovene life.

Most people are kind. A few openly resent the influx of foreign workers and I don't blame them. Between the cruise ship trade, expanding university and international business, plus increased immigration from bordering countries, Koper is growing and changing. I know how it felt to watch the quiet little town I grew up in become a crowded suburb of international London. Some incomers don't even bother to try learning the language. I just try to smile and stutter a few words of Slovene.

One of the most notable differences, and one you wouldn't think about when moving to Europe, is that between what my husband coined the "Anglo world" and other countries. (I am making observations here, not judgments, by the way.) Italy, for instance, is much more socially conservative that one might imagine given that Rome seems to be only an enclave of religion in an otherwise quite secular society. Though I shun the word "progressive" for myself, I was surprised that attitudes towards, for example, LGBTQ issues, are those of Britain and the US about ten years ago.

And you have to get used to the local administration. A Hungarian friend tells us that Slovenian bureaucracy is so much better than Hungarian. A friend who has spent decades in China smiled knowingly when I explained things here to him. Ho hum. All our dealings have followed a general pattern:

• Begin process for whatever. 
• Be told by official there is some potentially fatal flaw in our application. 
• Stress, panic until it gets to the last minute. 
• Official shrugs and fixes everything.

Well, I am actually wanting to skip over this annoying greying process and get to sexy all-white hair,  so maybe I should be grateful.

Travel
Apart from this spring, which was wet and filled with other obligations (like going to New Zealand, England, Wales, and Spain), we have done pretty well in keeping our resolution to make the most of being tucked into a corner between eastern and western Europe - see the list of places to the right! I have confirmed that I am not European enough to go nude in public, love of spas notwithstanding, plus that we don't do casual tourism very well and prefer the nerdy options (shout out again to Prof. Udovic at the Neanderthal Museum). A big bonus of resolutely exploring your new place is that it gives you little breaks from the stresses described above (and below). And yes, it really does broaden the mind.

Driving
No, let's not go there. Oh, okay.  I am still not accustomed to the daily drive across the border to Italy, where our daughter is in school. Italian drivers have the ability to reduce me to a quivering, swearing, sometimes even tearful, wreck. As someone who shall remain anonymous remarked to me, "They drive as though your life is not worth thirty seconds of their time." Slovene drivers are somewhat better, but do like to honk at you if you are not quick enough for them.

It's another Anglo thing - we are taught to drive defensively, park in the right places etc. Oh no, not here. (I am making judgments here, not observations. Except that the following observations are all true.) Need directions? Stop the car on the road, get out and ask. Don't feel like walking across the car park to the supermarket? Just park outside - bonus points if you do it in the driving lane that everyone else is using to get to the actual parking spaces. Ditto for school. Parking four deep across the road at the bend is far more convenient - for you. It's not your kid stuck in the school bus that can't get round the corner. My husband once broke down and directly asked a friend who drives like this, "But what if you block the road?" He replied, "Then they have to wait."

But I am Slovene enough to longer care about stopping in the one way street right in front of our apartment to let the children out if it is raining. Naughty me.

And one thing I do know: despite stresses, frustrations, and setbacks, I have no regrets about moving here.