We've been travelling this month, which always make a Tern happy...

First up, China. So PURPLE...




We really loved Kunming, our first port of call. (For more on that, start here, and work forwards.) We would happily return to this city, and give it more time.







We found Dali, our second stop, a little tourist-intense. We stayed in the wrong bit really, but we learnt to work it, and there's certainly plenty to enjoy. (For that segment, start here, and work forwards.)





We briefly returned to Kunming before flying out. (And see here for some general reflections on revisiting China after a gap of more than seven years. TL;DR -- when can we go again...?)

After a couple of weeks of that, we spent four days in Dubai, to break the journey to Europe:




It's an undeniably strange city, and you definitely have to take heat, humidity, and air pollution into consideration when making your plans. But it's still a rewarding place to visit, and it's a window onto a world that's very different from either China or home. (For the Dubai posts, start here, and work forwards.)

And next came England, which is where we are at the moment. After a pleasant couple of days in Staffordshire, we're now in Derbyshire, touching base with some of Nigel's rellies. It's always a pleasure to reconnect.


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A proliferation of travel posts (20 this month on Purple Tern...) means a corresponding dearth on The Velvet Cushion. I am indeed really behind with this, with books I've already finished queueing up for their mention in dispatches.

I did manage a Book notes entry, though (mainly on aspects of writing). Plus a few posts on books:

-- My top two picks for this month would be Moon Tiger, by Penelope Lively (a moving evocation of a life passing, and a reminder that so much of what makes a person remains hidden); and River East, River West, by Aube Rey Lescure (a fascinating picture of what it means to grow up in China in various different eras).

-- Probably no-one will believe that I've only just read The Secret History, by Donna Tartt... But this renowned pioneer of Dark Academia is an engrossing read, and deserves its acclaim.

-- I didn't share the general enthusiasm for The Ministry of Time, by Kaliane Bradley (it's thought-provoking, but over-stuffed, I felt, and I hated the rom-com angle). Len Deighton's An Expensive Place To Die, meanwhile, was too gaudily sixties to really engage me.








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So, we're now in England. And, as I said, we're always happy to catch up with family here, and suss out what's new.

But I'm kind of bothered by England at the moment... It feels to me like a really different place from the one we left just a few months ago in February.

From afar, and more than a little queasily, I followed the violent demonstrations this summer outside hotels accommodating asylum-seekers, and the far-right rally in London that drew crowds estimated to number between 110,000 and 150,000.

Just yesterday, 100 charities sent a letter to UK Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood, part of which reads: "The government wants to deliver growth and renew Britain. This requires tackling issues such as growing extreme inequality, underfunded councils, lack of investment in quality housing, a crumbling NHS, the climate emergency and polluted waters... Targeting refugees will do nothing to tackle these structural issues or improve people’s lives. It only serves as a dangerous smokescreen to scapegoat the most vulnerable and distract from the very real dangers to our society."

This article sums up the change of mood in some parts of the country, and I can't help asking, along with columnist John Harris: "Is it naive to wonder how little space our discourse now leaves for common humanity, charity and generosity?"

One really obvious difference from a few months ago is the flags... They're everywhere. British ones. English ones. Loads of them. And we're not even seeing them at their most extensive. We're already down from peak flag, it seems, as councils start to push back against random flagging.

Examples (just some of many -- I stopped photographing them after a while):





Now, let's be clear: There's absolutely nothing wrong with patriotism. People are entitled to love their countries, whether the focus of their loyalty is the state as a whole or one of its component parts. We fly flags all the time in Sarawak. Exuberantly. It's a way of emphasizing pride and confidence and distinctness.

But here, now, against the current political backdrop and the current rhetoric, the display feels a bit oppressive. This plethora of flags starts to come across as exclusionary, even hostile.

Even the Isle of Man (different polity, remember) has got in on the tough-on-migrants act, with the chief minister announcing that "work needs to be done to ensure immigrants coming here are providing a benefit and not increasing costs to the Island". Which is understandable... Except who is going to measure that cost/benefit ratio, I wonder, and what criteria will be employed?

I don't know where this is all going. But it certainly gives us pause for thought.

Although we left the British Isles 28 years ago, we have lots of connections here, and we sometimes wonder about returning. But I fear this tight, drawbridge-up mentality, which seems to have drawn succour from the dark tides across the Atlantic. This is not Britain at its finest, and I hope things take a turn for the better.

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Definitely time to cheer ourselves up with some more Dali purple:







So that was September... Colour in spades -- but also ominously lurking shadows.