Rain in the night, cool and overcast with even more persistent rain through to the evening. The news continues to be bleak with the Israeli military now fighting for complete control of Gaza city and the overthrow of the Hamas regime. There seems to be no clear plan following the yet to be established interim military rule of Gaza to ensure civilian governance of the Strip with the consent of the surviving population. Hundreds of thousands of civilians are trapped inside an active war zone unable to move to a place of safety. Israeli government spokespeople continue to deny there is a state of famine despite evidence to the contrary from international aid agencies. The compounds of Gaza's Latin Rite Catholic and Greek Orthodox churches are crammed with hundreds of refugees. Clergy and lay workers have refused to abandon those entrusted to them, the majority are Muslim, ready to die with their flocks if fighting overwhelms the compounds.
Meanwhile Trump stands by in detached silence, doing nothing to restrain Netanyahu's destructive zeal, or engage in finding a diplomatic solution to secure Palestine's future. He's made things worse by ordering the withholding of visas for President Mahmoud Abbas and the 80 strong membership of the Palestinian UN delegation due to visit next month's UN General Assembly for a key debate about prompt recognition of Palestine as a member state. He is becoming more dictatorial in his actions and policy decisions day by day. His purge of state officialdom is removing anyone whose expertise contradicts his ideology, and he's taking revenge on political critics and adversaries. No good can come of this.
A big bowl of fresh fruit salad for breakfast this morning instead of Saturday pancakes, inspired by cruise catering. The rain deterred us from going out anywhere together. The morning just slipped away doing nothing of consequence, apart from starting a fresh batch of bread. Clare cooked a curry for lunch with veg chopping and rice cooking support from me. Very good it was too. I dozed for a while in the chair afterwards, and then went out to buy some fruit. Rain described in the weather app as 'light' was persistent enough to soak my jacket hat and trousers. Serves me right for not taking a brolly. There was decisive break in the rain at seven and the sky cleared driven by a strong breeze. Only then was it possible to go out and walk without getting wet a second time.
All the padel courts were with quartets of players. I saw people arriving with bats under their arms hoping for a game. The courts are open from seven in the morning until ten at night. The new 35,000 square foot facility is branded 'Smash Padel'. Why such a violent name beggars belief. It's as idiotic as Starmer's 'Smash the Gangs'. An hour and a half court booking costs £39 I understand, plus bat hire if you don't have your own. I was surprised to see a group of cricketers attempting to play a game on a pitch near the courts. They were accompanied by supporters who were cooking barbecue food at the edge of the pitch. I don't imagine they'd been playing during the rain earlier. I walked past the pitch on my way up to the Cathedral for a change, and when I returned twenty minutes later the game had been abandoned and only the people making the barbecue under their gazebos remained.
By the time I got home it was dusk. I joined Clare watching a documentary by historian Bettany Hughes on the entrepreneural Nabatean Arabs, whose control of the incense trade two millennia ago made them very rich indeed. Stunning scenery throughout and some fascinating archaeology revealing a Nabatean trading post twenty centuries ago on the Bay of Naples in Italy with its unique temple, at the other end of the Mediterranean from Syria, Palestine and Jordan, then part of the Nabatean Empire. Then, after a spell of writing, early to bed.
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