How to fall in love with a country again

 

Oh, how we whined and whinged when it became apparent that, for a number of reasons, a holiday in the UK was going to have to replace our usual September jaunt to somewhere warm and European. It just wouldn't be the same as lolling by a pool in Corfu wiling away the afternoon with endless gin fizzes or hiring an open top car to explore every corner of Rhodes. Indeed, as we booked rooms in two old hotels at Grange-over-Sands and Peebles, both places where people used to travel in pre-antibiotic days to "take in the air", we resented every penny of the price. We could have a week in Menorca for the same price, dammit. Would it even feel like a holiday if we did all our travelling in the car rather than leaving the trusty Volkswagen at the long-term parking at Gatwick and jumping on a plane?

But as we left the M25 hellscape and hideous traffic around Birmingham behind us, Cumbria hovered into sight and we found our hotel overlooking the Irish Sea at Grange-over-Sands. Sure, it wasn't the most soundproofed of hotels - I am still convinced the couple in the room above us were moving furniture in between acts of copulation - and the breakfast service could have been a bit better organised, but the picture above was the view from our room. When we opened the florid, floral curtains and were greeted by a scene that definitely beat the "sea glimpses" promised on another holiday, there was an overwhelming sense that it was going to be OK.

It was better than OK - work worries were forgotten, we ate, drank and were merry, like all good holidays there was "the incident" (in this case, my sense-of-humour failure after a misreading of Google Maps in the rain in the Lake District), we saw new places and revisited old favourites. When we crossed the border, we had to pre-book our pool time in Peebles, which does kill the spontaneous swim, but we had lovely weather, which is always a bonus on any trip to Scotland. The big coats, packed pessimistically, remained unworn on the back seat of the car.

Of course, no matter where I go, I can't quite divorce myself from politics. After all, I am the nerd who went to Cyprus on holiday and wrote about the tragedy of the abandoned resort of Famagusta, and went to Menorca and ended up writing about feelings of solidarity with the Talayotic people who lived on the Spanish island from about 1400BC until AD1287. 

And so it came to pass that on last week's UK holiday, we could not be unaware of government's ongoing cack-handedness with the coronavirus pandemic. Whether it was loving how the wearing of a mask improved the olfactory experience of using public toilets or wondering how necessary masks were while aboard a boat that was open to the wet and wild elements on our one day of shitty weather, we were conscious of the virus. 

On the way back to London, we stayed with the in-laws in the north-east for a few days, just as the region went back into a partial lockdown - the chat as I got my hair done for a considerably cheaper price than in the capital was of confusion over the latest restrictions, in between utter disdain for Donald Trump ("He's out of his box!") and sympathy for "lovely" Keir Starmer having to self-isolate. North-eastern salon banter never fails to surprise, amuse and delight in equal measure.

In Scotland, we noted the contrast between Peebles and Jedburgh. Peebles was lively, shops were open and busy, there was an air of prosperity, a sense that this historic town was going to be OK no matter what an uncertain future might hold. But Jedburgh, equally bursting with fascinating history and general prettiness, was ultimately a depressing lunch stop - it was hard to find an open cafe for lunch, barely any shops were open, pubs were boarded up, there was neither hustle nor bustle. 

Both towns, along with plenty of places where we stopped in Cumbria, had plenty of signs indicating funding from the European Regional Development Fund - a source of valuable income that has now dried up. These funds are unlikely to be easily replaced, especially as the government's absurd or corrupt attempts to prevent pandemic-related economic disaster drain money away from everything from funding tourism promotion to ensuring the decrepit but clearly once brutally beautiful lido at Grange-over-Sands is properly restored any time soon.

But while I may still be angry about the sorry state of British politics, my anger is tempered with a renewed love for my adopted country and the many lovely people we met along the way. I have a desire for the UK to be the best it can be be - and one thing I do know is that it deserves better than either the elected and utterly risible Johnson government or the hypothetical Corbyn government that was never going to happen because, like it or not, he was never going to resonate with large swathes of voters across the places I visited and revisited on what was a truly wonderful holiday.   

Oil, gas and Greek salvation

Imagine this: A country is on the skids economically. The reasons for this crisis are myriad and blame is not limited to one person or one group of people. Corruption and tax evasion have been rife for years. Governments of different shades have been incompetent. Attempts to solve the economic problems have not worked.

But for the last five years at least, the country's energy ministry has known about significant offshore oil reserves - some 22 billion barrels to the west and a further 4 billion barrels in the waters to the east. Surveys have also estimated that the country may have natural gas reserves worth $9 trillion. Further exploration of the country's coastal waters could reveal even more oil and possibly natural gas reserves too. There may be enough to cover at least 50% of the country's oil needs. The country already has some oil and natural gas production but this has dropped sharply between 1990 and 2000 and has continued to fall ever since, dwindling to no gas production and barely enough oil production for one of the salads the country is so famous for.

This country is not hypothetical. This country is Greece.

Exploiting its oil and gas reserves alone won't solve the country's economic problems but it could make a massive difference.

Fuel would become cheaper - it is currently at around €1.59 per litre - and this would benefit everyone from struggling taxi drivers and farmers to the people who live on and visit the islands, where prices are higher for the many goods that need to be shipped from the mainland. There may be enough oil and gas to not only fire up power stations and further develop the petrochemicals sector. The government could remove bureaucratic obstacles to the development of renewable energy, so oil and gas-fired power stations are used in conjunction with renewables. This would mean a more reliable supply of electricity for the country. This is a minor bummer when the lights go out while you're enjoying a pint of Mythos in a Cretan taverna and it is an ongoing pain in the arse if you live in Greece.

Fossil fuels won't last forever - the clue is in the name - but we need to use them for now alongside renewables because the technology for solar, wind and tidal energy still needs work. A thriving oil and gas industry would be a fiscal multiplier and a creator of jobs.

As a bonus, Greece's heavy reliance on coal and imported hydrocarbons from such bastions of freedom as Russia, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Libya and Kazakhstan would come to an end.

Imagine that: Greece could be one of the few countries in the EU to get off the Russian gas teat and tell the Saudi government to go pound sand.

But will this happen? Probably not, especially if the IMF and EU governments succeed in getting Greece to sell off assets such as ports and public companies, in particular the national energy companies, to reduce the debt. But who the hell is going to buy these assets at this time? Realistically, how much money could be made from such a fire sale?

Joint ventures between Greece's national energy companies and foreign investors would make more sense. Keeping the ports for the transport of oil and gas and the development of LNG terminals would also make sense. LNG - liquefied natural gas - is a growing sector of the gas industry and one of its benefits is that it eliminates the need for pipelines with other countries, thus reducing the risk of geopolitical dramas, especially with nearby Turkey.

Additionally, LNG is a great way to store gas for domestic use and transport it for export. Remember exporting? A way that a country can make money! Exporting! Part of a sensible, steady economic recovery for Greece rather than the current debacle. It'll never catch on, especially if the Greek government eliminates tax breaks for the Greek islands. Yeah, what a great idea. Let's make it harder for the Greek islands to attract tourists! We're only talking about places so damn beautiful that all the advertising they should need is a Google image search. It's not as if tourism is a revenue-raiser for Greece or anything...

There is a lot of love out there for Tsipras at the moment but if he succeeds in raising taxes for the islands while not properly reforming the whole country's taxation system, and if he doesn't do a damn thing to push for oil and gas development, he is completely short-sighted. Equally, bullying tactics from the IMF and EU governments are not conducive to getting Greece back on its feet and five years of austerity in a vacuum where there have been no real plans to grow the economy haven't solved a damn thing either.

TLDR version? It's a bloody mess and I'll be stunned if anything improves any time soon.



Photography by George Hodan