Headspace

           As I walked past a “Dry Riser” sign I realised that, in all the years of seeing those words, I still don’t know what they mean. Of course, I could whip out my phone and google it, but curiosity has its limits – even for the curious. Right now, being preoccupied with getting to know my new environs, my brain-capacity feels stretched by inputs on all fronts and I feel the need to regulate its intake.

          One way of achieving this is to imbibe small, daily doses of my new physical and cultural environment so as to assimilate what is there, balance my perception and get the most out of the new situation. I’ve made a start on the physical by walking and cycling a good deal (a method of exploration which has the added benefit of avoiding membership of the local gym, with its associated expense and tedium) and, in the process, begun to read some history from the built environment. For instance, there is a plaque on a house nearby noting that Admiral Hardy – he of “Kiss me, Hardy” fame – “reputedly lived here”. Though not all buildings or ruins are so informatively labelled, it is obvious that Plymouth’s heritage is naval and rooted in the early years of sea-borne adventuring, piracy and, ultimately, colonisation. 2020 is the 400^th anniversary of the sailing from Plymouth to America by the Mayflower and it is marked by an art installation on the Mountbatten breakwater (pictured) that challenges the way we view this history. The so-called “New World” of the pilgrims was, in fact, inhabited by its indigenous people and, to quote one wag, “The American who first discovered Columbus made a bad discovery”. *

           But that’s all history. What’s happening now? To get an idea, I have bought local papers and learned that the home of the Royal Marines, the nearby Stonehouse Barracks, is a subject of controversy. Having been earmarked by the MoD for disposal a few years ago, it remains in use but with a question mark over its future and that of the marine unit itself. The local MP is keeping an ear to the ground for any hint that the Government might commit the outrage of moving them out of Plymouth, their rightful home. Meanwhile, deeper into Devon, the Farming section of the Western Morning News speculates about the post-Brexit future of agriculture, while reporting in detail on livestock market activity and prices, as well as up-coming auctions of tractors and the like. I need not take a deep interest in these, but it is as well to know that it matters to some.

          Meanwhile, on a practical level, lockdown has left us all in need of personal grooming so, on the day it was lifted, I went in search of a barber’s shop. I was lucky enough to find one at which there was neither a queue nor a requirement to book so, despite its snazzy, hipster frontage and the youthful, foreign (Turkish?) appearance of the staff, I took a chance and went in. Back in Manchester, I always had the same barber, so I never had to answer the dreaded question, “How would you like it, sir?”, to which the only answer I can think of is, “Same but shorter, please” but the new chap was not too demanding. Nor was he Turkish, but “British-Kurdish” and we had an interesting conversation about the displaced Kurdish community in the UK and the plight of the forty million Kurds constantly denied the right to nationhood, despite – among other things – their having done everyone the favour of disposing of the forces of ISIL.

          During all this, he did an excellent job on the haircut – and charged a mere £8! I gave him a tenner in the hope that he will remember how I like it next time. And now that my head feels lighter, it's possible that dry risers might get a look-in.

*Georg Christoph Lichtenberg, scientist and philosopher (1 Jul 1742-1799)