Why go on long walks? + A Very Short Film on Calais <2mins + More 💥
NEW: "The Wind is Free"
This very short film (less than 2 minutes) shows the basic living conditions of the migrants in the windswept "jungle" of Calais. Currently over 3000 migrants are surviving on one meal per day, in self-made shelters that vary from the miserably basic to the downright ingenious.
Filmed last Sunday, the 21st of June 2015.
More from Calais...
I spent last week living and teaching English in the vast migrant camp in Calais. It was, as usual, an inspirational, shocking and humbling experience. As well as the film above, I have written three stories from the trip, snapshots of the town, the camp and my English students.
The Ghetto of Calais: Over the past few years, the people of Calais would struggle to feel pride for their town. Every street corner wore the badge of the failures of French welfare, UK immigration, EU foreign policy and the failures of humanity in general.
The Open Air Prison of Calais: Riot police look down over the camp from the flyover. From below it looks less like a flyover than a prison wall. Five riot vans stand guard, half a dozen riot cops in each, just looking down on us. I take a piss into the bushes underneath their machine gun gaze. It makes me feel safer.
The History of John and Henry and of Frederick: “Mr Teacher,” he says, light bulbs flickering, “I want to tell you the history of John and Henry and of Frederick.” “Okay,” I reply, thinking these sounded like odd names for Sudanese history...
There will be more to come; as always, keep an eye on www.davidcharles.info.
Whilst we're all here, if you've enjoyed or found something interesting in any of my stuff, please do share with your friends! I'm not on Facebook, so I need you guys ;)
(Go on - it's my birthday, you know! It's make my day :D)
On a happier note, you might have missed:
Why walk?
The anatomy of an adventure
The other week, I arose before dawn and cycled to the New River Head in central London. From there, with my path companion Anna Hughes, we walked twenty-eight miles up river to Hertford, where I jumped into the water and finally let my swollen feet smolder. Then I came home.
Why? Why, oh why did I do this? Why, oh why, oh why did I do this again? In the last couple of years, I have walked from London to Canterbury and from London to Winchester: long, long rambles of dozens of destructive miles. It is now time to explain why I do this to myself...
Read more on the bloggo (HINT: It involves a little zen and a lot of Nutella...)
Thanks for reading - see you in July! xx
