Stress relieved before it became chronic
Problems in the Bellender Arms
Anybody taking a stroll around the village over the last few weeks would have noticed that the inhabitants seemed troubled by something. Faces were a bit long, greetings short and efficient rather than warm and friendly, the mediation class had become more and more popular. People were spending time at the cliff or on the beach staring forlornly out to sea or borrowing Constable’s home made and very powerful telescope to gaze across the calm waters. Even in our normally cheerful pub the Bellender Arms people sat silent hugging their drink and staring into the distance. All early warning signs that the people of the village were feeling stressed about something.
The groups of tourists were generally sympathetic but when they questioned the villagers about the malaise that seemed to permeate the village they were met with terse replies and closed faces. So the mystery remained unsolved and they headed off at the end of their visits feeling troubled.
The villagers didn’t feel able to speak about the problem as to mention it made them feel even more sad and morose.
For several weeks the weather had been very calm, the few boats that set off for a sail meandered around the bay travelling with as much speed as a depressed snail. The occasional burst of acceleration due to a passing cloud was as much sport as the bored mariners could expect. We were all hoping that the wind would lift a bit as things felt a bit stale and needed freshening up.
We were sitting on the Pub terrace watching the flaccid sails and the frustrated sailors fiddling with their sails in the hope of getting a bit of movement. Henriette paddled her canoe from boat to boat selling the sailors her home made organic ice cream but even this gastronomic treat didn’t seem to cheer them up much. One after another the mariners rowed their various yachts back and wandered up to the Pub to try and find solace with a locally produced organic beer or soda. Eventually the Pub emptied out as the villagers wandered back to their homes, each one giving the impression that they carried the world’s woes on their shoulders. Each asking themselves the same question « when will this end ? » Even Aristotle, the Pub dog, lay in the dust as though all his vim and vigour had been sucked dry.
CHOCOLATE !
COFFEE !
The village had run out, hidden reserves had been used up and sad, empty shelves were being cleaned as people remembered the last time of abundance. Constable had set to work to develop alternatives but as always, these turned out to be pale imitations of the real things. The taste was ok but without that little kick so beloved by the chocolate and coffee consumers, or the kick, was there but without the flavour, sometimes the kick was a little too hard and brought on dizziness and flickering vision. Despite all her efforts even Constable couldn’t find something that worked.
“When will it end?” was the question on everyone’s mind.
Well as it turned out it was the next day, the wind had risen during the night and the village felt as if it breathed anew. People, still lacking their normal stimulants seemed none the less brighter and in a better mood. The Pub terrace echoed with chatter and a general feeling of optimism permeated the place.
Alice, our local Postal worker could be seen on the clifftop manipulating Constable’s telescope and even from the distance that separated her from the terrace we could see her head shoot up and the broad smile that broke across her face. She turned towards us and raised her thumb. The word went round the Pub faster than Einstein’s limit, « Laura is back!». People rushed to the village to spread the word and the harbour wall was quickly lined by excited villagers with bright smiling faces. “Laura was back!”
You may, at this point, be feeling a it lost and wondering why the appearance of Laura’s yacht on the horizon might be sufficient to counteract the general sadness brought on by the lack of CHOCOLATE and COFFEE. That said it is most likely that your nimble minds have already worked out that Laura is our chocolate and coffee supplier.
Laura has never been a great fan of terrestrial living, her early years were spent learning to sail and then we helped her build a pretty big yacht to live on. Laura then realised that an economic niche was ready and waiting for her to seize and so she did. She gave herself the job of being the village’s main import and export expert. She would stock her yacht with our local organic fairtrade ethical products which she would exchange, after a reasonably long voyage across the Atlantic, for locally produced (over there) organic fairtrade ethical coffee, chocolate and a range of spices.
This was about as much globalisation as we in the village felt we needed. It has to be said that the first bit of chocolate or cup of coffee after a period of scarcity has a rare and unforgettable taste. Of course this doesn’t happen as soon as Laura gets back, we have to unload her cargo of beans and then process them, but this only increases people’s anticipation and their eventual pleasure.
The next load of tourists arrived to find the village transformed, they were met with smiling faces, warm greetings and a hot cup of chocolate. Life was back to normal.
I have to say that a small minority of the villagers, and here I included myself, are always a bit bewildered by the extent to which chocolate and coffee are seen by normally reasonable people as being essential to life. We are the tea drinkers and considered ourselves pretty fortunate. Laura’s great-grandmother had also been a keen sailor, Henriette’s aunt had told her that Laura’s great-grandmother had told her that she, Laura’s great-grandmother, would “rather drown at sea than live on land.” Which seemed a bit extreme. Anyway she had sailed to Turkey and from there she had brought back some Camellia sinensis seeds and since then we have a good stand of tea plants in a small field near the village.