WHO KNOWS WHERE THE TIME GOES

There are moments when you come up for air and can’t quite believe where all the time has gone.

?

It’s been some time since I wrote to you and a lot of water has flowed under the bridge. There have been high days and holidays. There have been terrifying images from faraway places of flames and floods and collapsing buildings. RAAC has entered the mainstream vocabulary as crumbling concrete has been found in schools and theatres, court buildings and industrial units. ?Other recent news from home about dangerous dogs has taken me right back to my early days in London and when the legislation was first snarlingly – that was just the politicians - added to the statute book and I found myself handling media calls about pit bulls, Japanese Tosas and two very obscure types of South American slave hunting dog– the Dogo Argentino and Fila Brasileiro. Seriously!

?

Home, at APS, we put on our September conference which looked at the challenges and opportunities facing the built environment. My thanks go to all our wonderful speakers – and, of course, the team at headquarters who, with the help of our partners at Maverick, put the whole thing together. We are now on to the autumn. ‘Safely Does It’ webinar series which kicks off ?next week - on 28 September 2023 – when our great friend, Christian Harris is with us to talk about slips and trips [book at: www.aps.org.uk/product/aps-autumn-webinar-series-slips-and-trips-online-2023-09-28].

?

But before we head back into the fray, let’s catch up. Take a seat while I tell you what I got up to on my holidays and why it made me reflect on construction.

?

Well! I had a bit of a madeleine moment and headed off around Spain by train. I started in Madrid and fulfilled an ambition to visit the Prado Museum. It was awe inspiring. But - and I know others disagree - I can’t help thinking that, with all that glorious, happy sunshine - the Spaniards ought to have developed a more joyous approach to art. You couldn’t fault the execution but - blimey! - the subject matter was mostly either grim or perplexing.

Halls of Rubens. Nude nymphs caught by demonic creatures and demigods - no longer chaste, if you see what I mean. Religious works of incandescent belief and beauty - but mostly depicting martyrdom in all its grisly detail. And the history paintings! A death in every frame. Frankly, by the end of the day, I’d had my fill of mad Queen Joanna.

But then I met my pal and perfect travelling companion. And all was well. Richard and I have been friends for years. He has the patience of a saint and the tolerance of Job.

We headed to Cordoba. If you’ve not visited the Mezquita [www.mezquita-catedraldecordoba.es/en/] - the great mosque cathedral - you need to book right now. Anyone with an interest in architecture will marvel at the sheer scale and majesty of its coral and cream arches curving gracefully back through time and into darkness. When it was a mosque it could hold 40k worshippers at prayer - and all while creating art out of living stone.

Then we headed to Ronda. The town didn’t look like much on approach but that hid a genuine cliff-hanger at its heart. Three bridges, at different heights, spanning a gorge of dizzying depth. There were rilled gardens, streets filled with little restaurants and a trip round a beautifully proportioned, engineered and curated bullring.

?

I’ve never been one for Hemingway - too much death in the afternoon and toxic masculinity for me - but I was fascinated by the tour. It put bull fighting into a much better social and historical context. I still don’t fancy watching but I’m no longer so critical.

?

From there we headed to Granada, and the wonders of the Alhambra, via a town called Antequera. I’m glad we stopped. The town is crowned by a Moorish castle and obligatory massive church.

But what was truly amazing was the way Spain has grabbed every subsidy going to renew its road and rail infrastructure. New stations. Fresh tracks. Out in the plains of Spain there was no sign of rains but field upon field of photo-voltaic arrays. I seem to remember they have the largest in Europe funded by the European Investment Bank [www.EIB.org/en] - of which the UK is a founder member and major shareholder.

So, on to Granada, the pomegranate city. They were everywhere: bollards; fountains; etched on windows. I had dreamt of visiting the Alhambra since I read about it when I was about eleven. God only knows why I took me so long to get there.

You see the pictures. But nothing - nothing - prepares you for the magic. The craftsmanship of the builders. The glory of the gardeners. The sheer heaven-scaling imagination and audacity of the controlling designers. Every turn a marvel. Every blink another vista pouring calming balm on the soul.

Spain made me appreciate the craft of the unseen hand. ?We walk each day in never-ending line from times of tolerance and grace through strife and war to an uneasy present and uncertain future. We are all part of this pilgrimage of history - hoping to emulate, if not surpass, the miracles of our collective past.

I cannot hope to match the skills and knowledge you hold. But at APS we can always work to pass on the lessons we have learned so our future can acknowledge the heritages we share, work to make the best of our todays and pay forward all that is good for future good and glory.