A cool day of clouds and sunshine. The news is full of stories about the Paris Olympics on the day of the opening ceremony, an original extravaganza using the stretch of the river Seine running through central Paris to showcase its history and French culture with 7,000 athletes from over 200 nations parading on barges, and entertainers on stages at various points on shore. But before it could get under way, news of four concerted acts of sabotage against the TGV rail network at strategic points disrupting signalling and power by setting fire to relatively small but key infrastructure nodes.
This was planned by a group with a working knowledge of the systems involved. One attempt failed but nobody was caught. Three others are causing big travel delays throughout France, for holiday travellers as well as sports fans converging on Paris. Nobody seems to have seen this coming. Who is responsible? All over Europe I imagine state security teams will be working frantically to analyse communications traffic for clues. But what if malefactors have shunned using anything but snail mail, calls from public phones and face to face meetings? If this happens in one country, it can happen in others.
Clare cooked sausages for lunch, veggie for her, pork for me. Afterwards, I went to town to get my novel printed. Church Street next to St John's Church was busy not only with pedestrians, but people sitting at tables outside the various eateries and pubs in the street. Such a change from when I was Vicar thirteen years ago. Before the pandemic outdoor seating was limited, used by smokers, but in the aftermath when investment in outdoor drinking dining became a means to survival economically, a culture shift has taken place. The public has got used to it and appreciates it if the weather is kind enough. Original arrangements have given way to stylish enclosures around seating areas, often with advertising banners on them. Cardiff feels more like a European city these days.
I was surprised to find the Oner Signs print shop was still open but under new management, re-branded as 'Scott off the Press'. Scott, a former employee has taken over the business from Dave who ran it on behalf of Oner. Apparently he's now enjoying a less pressurised life as a HGV driver! I left the novel pdf with Scott and walked to John Lewis's and back while it was being printed.
It was a pleasure to hold the freshly printed manuscript on good quality paper in my hands for the first time. When I thought about it later, I was reminded of my father receiving the proof copy of his book 'Colliery Haulage and Rope Splicing' by post from the publishers in London for final checking before printing. He had submitted a hand written copy with illustrations, and had it accepted before his text was rendered into type before printing. It's so different, sixty years later.
I walked home along the west bank of the Taff clutching my manuscript, another step along the road to finding out if anyone thinks it'd be worth publishing. I discovered that the print process had omitted the page number. I have no idea why this is, possibly something to do with the difference between a pdf file created from a Libre Office text being read on an Apple Mac controlling the printer. Or it could be to do with me inadvertently locating page numbers outside the printable page area, although they did show up on the pdf displayed, but started with the title page, which they shouldn't have, so just as well they were omitted. It took me ages to find out how to correct the editable master copy.
After supper Clare started a read through, spotting omissions and typos which escaped me with her sharp eye for detail still effective despite failing eyesight. Meanwhile, I watched the final episodes of 'End of Summer', which revealed crimes within a family, but with unexpected tragic twists in it. An interesting essay on small town rural life set in the region where the classic Wallander stories were set.
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