Missing in action for many months, our respected correspondents Peter and Judi Burleigh , back in France , bobbing about canals on their Dutch butterfly , above , have sent an illuminating dispatch explaining recent , shock major world events. It kicks off -
If you
had witnessed the end of the world at least four times in the past month you
too might be a little behind in your correspondence. Nevertheless, I’m told you
can always find something positive in every situation and we’ll continue
looking for it.
First
there was The Great Flood which confronted us on our arrival in France. The
Soane, Doubs and others in our area had peaked with cartoonish violence, ready
to engulf unwary mariners and chew their boats to bits. At St Jean de Losne,
where we were cowering in our marina, the river soon eased but remained almost
a metre above the lowest flood measure. We’d never seen it even touch
the flood sign before, now it was a third the way up. It was flowing at least
at the top speed of our boat, which meant we could go down the river very fast
but not make the slightest headway going up. It seemed wise not to move.
Second
came the Brexit disaster. People here couldn’t believe how stupid the Poms had
been. Instead of stamping their foot and stalking off, why didn’t Britain
negotiate a more favourable deal and/or a more controlling role in the EU?
France went quiet with shock for a day, muttered about a new period of
political tribalism, and got on with it (well, ‘blundered forward’ might be a
better expression).
In close
succession to this destruction of physical and political life as we’d known it,
the British lost a soccer match to Iceland, a country which even today is
impossible to find on a large map, was an unparalleled sporting humiliation.
French people have accepted that Britain is finished as a nation and will soon
see reverse flows of refugees re-crossing the Channel to France.
Finally,
in a harsh lesson to the French themselves, they lost the 2016 Soccer grand
final to Portugal, a country which still issues inflated pig bladders to its
football teams. In fact, more people know where Iceland is than Portugal. Our
conclusion? Europe is finished too. Only certain brands of European beer, cars
and shampoo will survive. Our advice? Contact your nearest people smuggler and
book your passage to Ecuador.
And where
on this scoreboard of disasters did the Australian Federal Election rate?
Nowhere. It wasn’t mentioned. Only people like us who tuned in to obscure
internet sites suffered the ennui and frustration of the results. Once again we
found there was no one we could vote for. One by one, the old scrum again has
risen to the surface: Hanson, Bernardi, Katter – you know who they are.
So the
world has ended. What do we do now? What are we to believe? We believe we’ll
have another drink.
This year
the floods have kept pleasure boats off the canals. They’re almost deserted.
Quite thrilling to be the only boat within 50kms of the next! Last week we had
three days of sunshine before the grey clouds and rain returned. The
bad-weather gloom is intense and demands a high level of alcohol consumption to
take the edge off it. At the same time it’s snowing in Brisbane, the ice age
has dawned in Melbourne and Perth is buried under a large sand dune.
Deliberately ignoring these omens, we cruised fast up the Champagne-Ardenne
canal network to Epernay and spent some quality time researching small
Champagne makers, and large ones too, and are now set up in the marina at
Chalons-sur-Champagne waiting for tonight’s Bastille Day fireworks. Will
history roll over us and pass us by? Never. We are setting new trends.
The message ends : Yours in
hedonistic social engineering.
