Travelogue VII: Home Thoughts

Home Thoughts

(written over 13 and 14 July at La Fortuna and San Jose, Costa Rica)

Foreign hotels will cause you to watch a lot of CNN and CNN is currently revelling in what it rather hopes is the unravelling of Rupert Murdoch’s News Corporation. All of this triggered by the passing of that dear English institution The Geriatric Wankers’ Weekly (colloquially known as The News of the World) whose despicable methods have begun to be fully exposed. I have blogged about this before and in particular Cameron’s hare-brained employment of Andy Coulson the former GWW  editor who was either right in the thick of the nastiness or just too plain thick to realise what his staff were up to. Neither is a good look. But now for a bit of my contrariness.

Good riddance to bad rubbish

When I was a juvenile wannabe journalist my heroes (probably heroes to all similarly ambitious youngsters) were Woodward and Bernstein of Watergate fame. Investigative journalism was where it was at – it saved western democracy from itself. Now let us just suppose that Watergate was being investigated now. Is it not likely that phone tapping might help journalists to uncover a truth we would all deem in the public interest? So is what distinguishes the current revelations in fact the utter tastelessness of the objects to which the methods are applied? No decent human being should have wanted to pry into the private life of tragic Milly Dowler, much less hamper the search for her; no decent human being needs or deserves to know about Gordon Brown’s child’s health. The miscreants should be prosecuted, denigrated and put beyond the pale and the readers who gleefully swum around in the putrescence purveyed by the GWW  might handily take a little look at themselves as well.

It reputedly rains a lot back in Blighty but if you really want to see rain try Costa Rica at this time of year. The rain is huge, warm and beautifully tolerable.

Fitness update: have done a bit of guilty swimming here at Volcano Lodge but suspect I have gone up at least one trouser size. Tried some running as well but have exported my calf strain with me. Bollocks.

My favourite sports event of the year, the Open Championship, starts tomorrow. Will Sharon tolerate me catching it on Spanish language ESPN at 3.00am? No, you’re right , I should get some sleep in readiness for transitting back through Miami on Friday. Hopefully my usual bench will be free for me not to sleep on. Must sign off, check-out time at Volcano Lodge.

Now in San Jose. Better than last week – no one has stolen anything from us yet. Just back from a brilliant trip to a coffee plantation. I am at one with the bean.

Latest news, Daily Mirror accuses News Corporation of hacking the phones of  9/11 victims, quoting an unnamed source. This has a horrible whiff of believability but we might just pause to acknowledge that this is the same Mirror whose proud history includes both ownership by the arch crook Robert Maxwell and editorship by prize wanker Piers Morgan, both of which one is pleased to note came to a sticky end. Mind you the utterly unconscionable Morgan can be found leering at one from the studios of CNN these days. Why do people put up with this jerk and is there not some law by which his British passport can be withdrawn for the good of our world standing?

Smell the coffee

Have also been taking pained pleasure in watching the earnest financial news which treats as a revelation the information that the Italian economy may be a basket case. How could anyone not have known this? The country  has a prime minister who dies his hair, owns a media empire and aspires one day to ascend the moral plain occupied by Rupert Murdoch. Bugger me lads, wake up and smell the espresso. I recommend Café Tres Generaciones from the Doka Estate. Because I’ve been there.

I have adopted a Costa Rican football team – Saprissa – but my fashion advisors have prevented me from buying the stylish shirt, rather a pity because the sponsor’s name is Bimbo. This is a San Jose’s biggest bakery not some local sort with cash to spare, which would have been a better story.

It’s raining again. That straight, warm rain. I’ll miss it. English rain is slantier and far colder though has a rough charm of its own. On the flight home tomorrow I’m going to watch the BBC Troilus and Cressida on my DVD player. Paging Doctor Faggot.