Wed 30th April 2003, Whitehorse

Well, here I am, safely settled in Whitehorse.  The flights went well, on time from Heathrow and only a half hour delay from Vancouver.  I exchanged smiles with the girl who sat next to me from Heathrow but we hardly spoke until we were coming into Vancouver.  She was from Oregon and was on her way back from visiting her sister in London.

 

Later I got chatting to a couple from Birmingham visiting family on Vancouver Island.  We were waiting in a queue for passport control in Vancouver airport and we started chatting about the Orientals a couple of queues away.  Most of them were wearing masks against the SARS virus, or perhaps they’d come from a SARS area and been asked to wear them; I never found out - they were almost a tourist attraction!  The couple had done a fair bit of travelling so we swapped stories about places we’d been, which passed the time while we queued.  Vancouver airport is impressive and airy; all glass and steel, even water features.  One was really large and you walked through it (well-not actually through the water!); complete with mock rock walls, waves lapping on the "beach" and bird song.

 

I was a little nervous standing in line because there’d been notices on the plane that you can’t take certain foods into the country and of course I’d had my food parcel in case the airline had mucked up my booking for gluten & dairy free food.  I’d finished the grub – of course, but no way of cleaning it so there were things like tomato seeds.  I’d got it into my head that I’d be in trouble but it was no problem.  I explained to the customs man and he did his best not to laugh but I definitely saw his mouth twitch at this well-meaning but obviously dippy Englishwoman!

 

I managed to find the general area for boarding the internal flight up into the Yukon but wasn’t entirely sure from the signs if I was at exactly the right gate.  Someone reassured me and we sat chatting happily for a while.  She was on her way to Edmonton for a course on how to train people to become horse-riding teachers.

 

The flight from Vancouver took us over Vancouver Island, up the Inside Passage, breaking off after Ketchikan to fly inland to Whitehorse.  We had a birds’ eye view of the islands and fabulous snowy mountains.  It was exciting to see where I shall be going in a month or so.

 

I was so excited as we came in to land I could scarcely contain myself despite being so very tired.  The airport is a small airfield with one large building on a ridge outside of Whitehorse.  I really must check the history of the town; but it looks to be built where the ground has been quarried or mined.

 

Sad to say, there was no snow nearby although I could see it on the hills/mountains surrounding the town.  Instead it was really warm and sunny – not at all what I was expecting.

 

Before I left the airport I checked with the National cars desk, who confirmed my booking for 1st May.  She also helpfully rearranged the pickup to a place in town as it would be cheaper and I could have a courtesy car from my hotel to the pick-up place.  Of course, I had forgotten that George (travel agent George not Georgie George) had arranged the pick-up from the airport specially so I could go straight onto the highway and wouldn't have to drive through town immediately after pick-up with a left-hand four-wheel drive on strange roads.  Ah well, committed now.

 

I had an hour and a half wait at Whitehorse airport.  By the time I finished at the car hire place I was at the back of the queue that eventually dwindled down to me and one other.  He turned out to be the most interesting person to date.  He works for the Fisheries & Forestry Commission (I think that's who he said it is) and was there on business of some sort.  We sat in the sun discussing hunters, ecology, Iraq, Americans, European, Germans, terrorism and goodness knows what else.  The nice people on the Air Canada desk had ordered a taxi for me when we realised the source had dried up, and he rang twice for himself but all to no avail.  I learned the first lesson of my trip - patience in all things Yukon.  We shared a taxi in the end and he paid for both of us, which was really sweet of him.  I tried to pay my side of course, but he was having none of that.

 

The hotel is pretty outside with a western style façade and boardwalk running the length of it.  My room is nothing out of the ordinary except that it has two double beds – a little overkill for just one person I feel but very comfortable and it's nice to have the space.  I have a great view over the houses towards the mountains.  The room’s clear but the common areas smell of cigarette smoke, which surprises me as I thought Canadians were very against public smoking.

 

When I had settled in I tried going for a walk but the roads are really wide and I was so tired and befuddled that I was too scared to cross the road, even though there were only about four cars around at any one time!  I could only follow the block.

 

I went to the hotel restaurant, the Casca, for ease last night, and so I wouldn’t have to cross the road.  The salad was ok but the service was lousy.  The girl was intent on showing how under pressure she was, saying so outright and sighing with exasperation when I went to pay.  Needless to say I won’t be going back.

 

I managed to last until about nine o'clock before collapsing into bed.

 

Now I've settled in and I’m a bit more awake I can see how nice my room is.  As I write this I’m eating the last of the gluten-free bourbons I brought with me, looking out from the 4^th floor over the dusty streets of Whitehorse to the mountains with their snowy caps.  There’s a fridge with freezer compartment, microwave, filter coffee maker (with one free coffee packet per day plus bottled water), iron & board, TV, hairdryer.  Pretty good set-up all in all.  Not very happy about having to use the lift – claustrophobia an’ all… but there’s no other way up to the rooms.  The lifts are operated by the electronic room keys as a security measure and the doors to the stairs are kept locked against undesirables trying to get in.  Ok getting out so I’m gritting my teeth up and walking down. 

 

The roads weren't nearly so scary this morning so I guess it was just exhaustion that made me so wimpy last night.  I also found the lady on the front desk rather off-putting last night but she’s turned out friendly.

 

This morning I went to the Visitor centre but found there’s very little opening for at least another week and probably up to a month.  That’s ok, I’m coming back!  The guy did suggest a couple of walks that he said were perfectly safe to do on my own.  I wandered along the side of the Yukon a little way then headed back into town for lunch.  I passed a library and went in for a nose around and found they have email access.  Free for 15 minutes on one computer on a first come first served basis but you can also book ahead for up to an hour free although you do have to register with the library first.  Good to know for future reference as the access in the hotel lobby is can$5 per hour.

 

I’d asked the guy at the Visitors’ Centre where I could get a mobile phone for while I was here – that confused him - ‘did I mean a cell phone?’  So after lunch I decided to walk to the industrial area where I’d been told would be the best place.  It was a lot further than I expected; also very hot and very dusty but I got a kick walking along the banks of the Yukon river and enjoying the scenery and mountains that you can see from just about anywhere in Whitehorse.  I could see, but not get near to the snow and ice along the banks.  Majorca heat in spitting distance of snow – weird!

 

The mobile phone idea turned out to be a non-starter.  I wanted one primarily for safety in case of breakdown, and also to phone ahead as I move around.  George had advised me to phone ahead whenever I move on because then if I don’t arrive they’ll come and look for me.  He said people are good like that here.  The pay-as-you-go type is very expensive, better to go for a year's contract.  The problem with that is they need a Canadian billing address.  I was pretty sure Jane would let me use hers in Calgary but then we came to the problem of credit checks.  I don't have a credit history here, only having been in the country 24 hours!  To get round this I could have paid a can$500 deposit refundable after three months but this would tie up a large chunk of money for me.  Both payment methods get more expensive as you move outside the immediate rental area, climbing two, three, four and five times the local call charge depending on where you are.  Similar problems with renting.  Neither would work outside major towns and immediate surrounding areas so they would not meet the requirement for use in case of breakdown etc.  Global network phones are available for rent but at can$250 per month (with a whopping 10 minutes free call time - whoopee!) on top of the deposit, this was also out.

 

As I can use public phones to call ahead (and this hotel has a public phone in the lobby so presumably others will too) I decided so save my money and go without.

 

I inadvertently had a lot of practice crossing the roads thanks to my mobile phone trek and been able to watch the drivers to get a feel for traffic flow.  Still rather confusing though.  Some junctions have traffic lights, plus white lines across the road almost like our zebra crossings.  If they have illuminated signs for pedestrians you have to wait until you are allowed to cross.  Rather funny to see people waiting patiently without a car in sight.  Since cars are still allowed to turn right, even though the walking sign is showing, it pays to be vigilant.  If there are no lights you look for the same white lines on their own.  In this case pedestrians have right of way but you hold out your arm so drivers know you intend to cross.  I’d asked the guy in the Visitors’ Centre about crossing but confused again almost immediately.  A nice lady asked if I needed any help and explained everything - they like us to cross on the white lines but we won’t get arrested if not – just be sure to hold an arm up and out to indicate I’m crossing.  Seems to work!  Everyone is very friendly and helpful.

 

For the most part, even without white lines, I find if I stand at the side of the road and look confused, people will stop and let me across.

 

About those white lines - sometimes you have to look very hard to see them, the harsh winter weather takes its toll and they are faded and sometimes almost non-existent.

 

At the moment I'm not looking forward to driving through town but I guess I'll manage, no other choice really.

 

I went to Sam & Andy's Mexican restaurant across the road for lunch.  It is so friendly and the food is really good and reasonable (to someone used to paying UK prices).  I had a little lie down afterwards – feet were throbbing and my face was red from the sun; and spent the rest of the day browsing the shops.  I got maps for driving, a small ring pad for quick notes, some toiletries and water, plus films.  I must remember to buy things in bulk in Canada, at least can$50 at a time – that way I can claim tax back if it comes to over – rats, I’ve forgotten how much but I must do it!

 

I’ve been worrying about how best to record the trip (I shall have to thanks to my forgettery – and I don’t want to forget anything).  All sorts of ways occurred to me – email only – diary and email all of it – mixture of the both etc and then finally I made a decision : it doesn’t matter – I’ll just do what I feel like, whenever I feel like it!  Whew – that’s a relief!!)

 

All for now

 

PS - notice how I'm chatting with people - oh what a good girl I am!

Tues 29th April 2003

Hi

Made it, got to the hotel about hour an half ago, settled in, eaten and on my way out for a stroll (minus any coat-it's a heatwave!!! although the scuttlebut is that Calgary has just had 8 inches of snow - I don't believe it!)). Met a number of very nice people en-route.

Will send again soon when brain stopped spinning from jetlag.

Not many taxis though, waited 1 and a half hours but had company, nice man from Fisheries & Forestries Commission who shared a taxi eventually and insisted on paying the fare. I like the Yukon!

And so it begins

This time ten years ago I was packing my bags ready to fly out the next day for Canada and Alaska.

I'd actually taken the huge step of deciding to go ahead with my plans for my big adventure.  I'd worked out an itinerary with George, my travel agent, finished work and spent the last few weeks getting lists ready so I didn't forget anything and shopping for warm clothes.  I'd been so excited with all the preparations I'd not really had time to think about what I was doing but the night before I left it hit me.  What on Earth did I think I was doing, going off alone for several months in a strange country?  I'd tried to get some friends interested, at least for parts of the trip but no-one else had either the time or the inclination to see this part of the world.  Most of my friends prefer warmer climes. 

So here I was, on my own!  There were a few complications, the biggest being that I wasn't an outgoing person...panic attacks in crowds, in awe of friends who could talk with a stranger with ease.  Then there was the business of my diet, I was gluten and dairy-free.  For those who don't know me, I suffered with eczema for a lot of years and some other problems so I stayed gluten and dairy free for three years in a last ditch attempt to sort things out.  My problems cleared up and, with only a couple of minor flare-ups in the last ten years sorted by briefly watching my diet again, I've not had any trouble since resuming a normal diet.  It was a shame my trip took place during those three years but it was worth the hassle.  George (the travel agent) was a little worried about me doing this trip so I hadn't mentioned one other little thing to him, in case he didn't want to be get involved with the trip.  The other little thing being that it hadn't been so long ago that I was being investigated for the possibility of multiple sclerosis.  The symptoms had faded, and although they couldn't say for sure what the problem was, they also couldn't say it wasn't MS.  Going through that was probably one of the main things to nudge me into living a dream.  For the record, there's been no recurrence so I can safely assume I'm out of the woods now.

Obviously, it wouldn't make sense now to give dates and days of the week so I'm going to post the emails I sent home as sections of the journey.  Things may look a little odd but you'll get the general idea.  Anway, this trip down memory lane is really for my own benefit, a self-indulgence, so if you're interested, just follow as best you can.

Tonight I'm re-living in my mind the expectations and excitement of that day before I flew out, as well as the panic and worries that I may have bitten off more than I can chew.  Tomorrow...the journey to Heathrow airport for the start of my great adventure.  In two days time I'll be in the Yukon...in 2003.

Dancing in the Rain

Last week, I came across the following at work; one of those little things you see tagged onto the bottom of emails.  You know, homilies, prayers, cute little sayings, really irritating stuff...well, this one caught my eye and my imagination.

"Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain".

That's what I've been doing, "waiting for the storm to pass" for the past few years but especially during the past few months!  The phrase bounced around my cranium for a day or two and finally came to a rest in a resolution to change my outlook.  I was in the middle of a drive to Bath Hospital for visiting hours.  I love to drive, maybe because it's something in my life I can control and something I do well, maybe it's simply the freedom of the road, I don't know, but I enjoy driving.  In the last few years each trip has mostly been a means to an end, no pleasure in the drive itself, just something that was necessary.

So, there I was, ready to take the steep winding road that leads to the hospital, Bath City spread out beneath me, nestling in the folds of the surrounding hills.  That was the moment I realised I should be enjoying the experience.  Ok, life throws the bad stuff at you, but that doesn't mean there isn't still good stuff around.  Ok, I need to spend a few weeks going to and from the hospital on top of everything else but I should be taking the opportunity to enjoy it - I should be dancing in the rain!

It's time I started making the most of what I have now instead of wishing things were different or waiting for things to change.  There's not a lot I can do about the present but I can remind myself what I'm capable of...what I have done and therefore what I could do in future and so enjoy the present for what it is, enjoy what I am doing now.

Ten years ago this month I went on my big adventure.  I wanted  more out of life and I decided to not just wait until things improved but go out and get what I wanted.  I handed in my notice at work to spend some time travelling in Alaska and Canada.  It wasn't an epic journey studded with outstanding action or romantic encounters.  It was simply the once-in-a-lifetime trip of an ordinary person who enjoys driving and wants to know what's over the next horizon.

In a few weeks time I'm going to start re-living that period of my life just for the sake of remembering.  In a spirit of sheer self-indulgence I'm going to periodically post the emails I sent home.  This blog will change for a while from random thoughts to a retrospective travelogue.  If this isn't your cup of tea then I'll see you when I get back.  On the other hand, if you'd like a gentle journey then I'd welcome your company, take a seat and sit back, I'll do the driving.

Falklands or Malvinas?

A little history first.  From what I can make out...more or less...

Pre 1522 the islands may or may not have been reached by Pategonian Indians
1522-1600 sighted by Portuguese, British and Dutch ships; may or may not have been overwintered in by the Spanish
1690 Britain explored them
1764 France inhabited the east
1765 Britain inhabited the west
1766 Spain compensated France to abandon the east
1767 Spain expelled Britain but later returned the west
1774 Britain departed but left plaque claiming sovereignty
1811 Spain evacuated
1820 Argentina set up a colony
1831 USA proclaimed the islands free of all government
1832 Argentina set up a new government
1833 Britain expelled Argentina
1965 UN Resolution 2065 asserted the Falklands/Malvinas constitute a colony and called on Britain and Argentina to negotiate taking account of the islanders interests

I think the islanders have made it plain on several occasions they want to remain under British rule.

However, it has been said the islanders' views don't count because they are an implanted population, starting in 1833.

Hmm...how long do you have to be somewhere before your views count?  It's been 180 years since the implantation started in 1833.  Perhaps the occupants of the USA weren't  entitled to declare independence in 1776; after all, it had only been 211 years since the first permanent European settlement in 1565!

The majority of British residents could be on dodgy ground too.  Britian has been invaded by the Normans, Vikings, Jutes, Saxons, Angles, Celts and Romans.  Perhaps there are some Neanderthals out there who'd like to register a prior claim?

Argentina itself started as a colony in 1536 and didn't become independent of Spain until 1861.  Now, who lived in Argentina before 1536...?

The only way is up

Having previously posted some bad experiences our family has had with the NHS it is now time to post a balancing view.

Shortly before New Year my brother fell ill and we had to call an emergency ambulance that arrived within five minutes.  Half way to the hospital the blue lights went on, we rushed the rest of the journey and my brother was taken straight into the Resuscitation room.  During the whole time the ambulanceman and woman were magnificent.  Efficient, calm, kind and very professional which slightly eased the tension for the rest of us because we knew we were in good hands.

My brother is primary carer for both our parents so at four in the morning I had to call on some friends to come and sit with them while I went with my brother in the ambulance.  Our friends came straight out, no questions, no hesitation, they were there within minutes.  The local care home took my parents in the next day on an emergency respite care basis.

Work have, once again, allowed me compassionate leave to make suitable care arrangements for the family so my brother and parents would be safe coming home.  Everything is now in place...I think!...and my parents are due home tomorrow.

My sincerest thanks to the emergency staff who attended the call and the doctors and nurses in the Accident and Emergency Department.  Sad to say the continuing hospital care dropped to the sorry standard we experienced last time but the emergency care was excellent.  My thanks also to everyone else who has helped during this distressing time, friends, work and the home care services.

My family may not be believers but I am and I found great comfort with Him and thank Him for giving me the strength to cope.

And the outcome?  Well, I saw in the New Year in the hospital car park but as I was there to bring my brother home we've taken this to be a good sign for the coming year.  The only way is up!

Feelin' lucky

There was a time when it would take me an hour and a half to get to work then an hour and a half home again.  Walk, train, change, train, walk or underground or bus.  From the London suburbs into Victoria station and up to Knightsbridge or whichever branch of the bank I was working in at the time.

I'd have to stand most of the way - if not all of it, push and shove just to get standing room in smelly carriages or buses, battered by noise from busy London traffic.  In the days when smoking was the norm I'd get home in the evening stinking of cigarettes and traffic fumes.

For some years after leaving school it was exciting...parties, pubs...but eventually the commute grew tedious and the night life palled.

Now look at my commute, and only 15 minutes...

Health provision

The opening ceremony of the Olympics including a celebration of the National Health Service.  Having experienced or heard about health provision in other countries I'm very grateful for the NHS in the UK but how long can it last?  In fact, is it already on the way out?  According to the media it is on the decline but then I'm trying not to be taken in by everything I hear in the media.

So how else can I judge?  Well, by my own observations!  I've had more contact with the NHS recently than I care to think about really.

The aim of the NHS and the Social Services is to safeguard the public health and get help to the people who most need it and support them through difficult times until they can stand on their own feet again.  Temporary help working towards a long term solution.  Or so I had always supposed.

My brother is primary carer for both of our parents.  He's been brilliant but recently suffered some health problems.  A scare in the middle of the night, a visit from the ambulance service, and news that although not life-threatening - thank God - he was too ill to look after them for a while and needed a well-earned break.

So, there we were, in need of help and support.  I work full-time so took three days compassionate leave to arrange respite care.  But what to do?  What could be done?  What help was there out there?  Where to look?  Where to START?

I started with the Social Services and to begin with they were very helpful, right up to the point where they investigated our finances.  Unfortunately, as it turned out, Dad had been saving for some work to be done on the house.  Because of this we're just over the border to be eligible for financial help.

So, there I was, part way down the process of finding two placements, pending a call regarding availability in the county, when I get a call to say we weren't eligible for funding.  Ok, those are the rules, we don't have to like them but we accept them.  I waited for the call back about availability of respite places in the county, fully prepared to pay, but it never came.  I phoned for an update to be told 'you're self-funding, we can't help any more'.  Oh, well that's all right then, if you're self-funding you obviousy know automatically what's available and where to go!

It was like a slap round the face.  I was desperately trying to organise some help, while coping with my parents needs, look after my brother and do some semblance of work from home to cover the sudden absence.  Luckily for me we have good friends who rallied round and between us we got it sorted and found places for my parents to stay while my brother was recovering.

So much for temporary support pending a long term solution!

Not a very good episode with the Social Services; how about the NHS?  While in respite care my father was taken ill and taken to hospital.  He nearly didn't get out of the ambulance, the electronic back door was broken.  He was admitted, finally, and spent four days there.  I went in one day to find he was still in bed, they hadn't got him into his chair that day for some reason, and was struggling to eat his dinner.  He has trouble with his arms and although fine when in a chair he couldn't get the fork to his mouth while in bed.  He'd given up after managing to feed some to his armpit and was trying to drink the juice from a small bowl of fruit when I got there, even though he couldn't get to the fruit itself.

I was fuming, I helped him eat while fending off an orderly who wanted to take his tray away.  I'd phoned earlier to see how he was but they won't discuss patients details over the phone, quite understandably for confidentiality reasons, they tell you to speak to the nurse when you come in.  I waited two and a half hours.  First you have to identify a nurse, not obvious from the different unifirms around.  Then it was...I'm on medication rounds, I'll come back in a minute; I can't find my notes from when I took over the shift, I'll come back to you;  she's with a new admission, she'll be with you shortly; she's in hand-over (shift change), at which point I realised I was going to be back to square one with a new nurse who's...just taken over, I'll find the patient notes and come back to you!

Yes, they're busy and yes, I'm prepared to wait but crumbs, there are limits!  Why were any notes so hard to find?  How did they expect to look after patients if they don't know their condition?  It's not very re-assuring. Eventually I was told to ring during the day and speak to someone then - I told them they wouldn't speak to me on the phone for confidentiality reasons, oh that's ok just set up a password and we'll talk to you!

I can't tell you how angry I was, as a family we've had too many admissions in the last few years and this is the first time anyone has mentioned a password, and then only because I told them I wasn't moving until I'd spoken to someone - politely I hasten to add, I was friendly and reasonable through it all, outwardly at least.

We were glad he came out after four days but a week or so later received a letter calling him to attend for a 24-hour ECG because they'd found some irregularities in his heart while he was there.  WHY NOT DO THAT WHILE HE WAS WITH THEM?  Why make him come back later?

There were other problems but hey, enough's enough in one post.  What rubs salt in the wound is all the notices advising patients and visitors there is a zero tolerance policy towards agression towards NHS staff.  Quite right, anyone who abuses someone verbally or physically who is trying to help them not only needs their head examined but should be shoved out the door without treatment.  The only problem is that some of the staff take this as carte blanche to be as rude and unhelpful as possible in the sure knowledge that we can't retaliate. 

Mostly the help is there but it is getting worse and ours are not the only bad experiences, I've learned about many others amongst friends and acquaintances. 

The media have been reporting on similar problems around the country and one of the things they highlight is that some people view the NHS and Social Services not as a temporary support but a lifestyle choice and entitlement.  Those of us who try and make our own way but call for help in emergencies find we are on our own.  It doesn't help that our health service seems to be available to all-comers, it means the funds aren't there to help legitimate needs.  Health tourists - those who come specifically for medical services with no intention of paying; immigrants - who have rights to health services and social services without having paid any money in.  The stories are seemingly endless and I don't just hear about them in the media, I hear of personal experiences.

Sadly I believe the reports in the media on this subject and I foresee lots of trouble if the Government doesn't get to grips with it, we're mugs.  I can fully understand the rage and frustration of people who are constantly giving but not receiving, seeing others benefit from services their own money is funding yet they are not able to access.

Please forgive the rant, it's not as though I've not submitted constructive ideas through the government website, I have, but there comes a time when all that's left is to complain!

Religious views

Today I had occasion to respond to someone's reaction to the bombing in Libya. The person was pretty upset, quite naturally, but spoke against the Muslim religion rather than the individuals. I've set out my response below. Any comments please? I believe I'm right in what I say but I'd be interested to know what other people think.

"I’ve been reading the papers and Chris Stevens seems to have been a remarkable man, I wish there were more like him in the world. I agree, what has been done is outrageous. It’s outrageous that someone who has worked so hard for peace and stability has been killed, along with his fellows. It’s outrageous that anyone would attack innocent people in the name of God, or Allah or any other. I don’t disagree with any of your comments on the appalling reaction to something that is frankly not worth the attention it’s been given. However, I can’t bring myself to blame the religion itself. Atrocities are committed by different religions for different reasons. I’m not a historian and my understanding of the world is naive to say the least. However, as I understand it the Crusaders invaded the Holy Land because they were convinced they had the right; southern Irish bombed innocents in London because the UK supported the Northern Irish in their decision to be part of the UK, a division originating in the differences between Catholics and Protestants. Everywhere in the world there are constant reports of one religion battling another in some way or another, even different sects within the same religion. I’m the only Christian in my family, the others are non-believers. One member is even antagonistic towards all religion believing they are all evil and most of the word’s ills are caused by religion. It’s hard to argue against it when you look at the News but I still believe it’s not the religions, it’s the individuals. I could have blamed the Irish for the fear I experienced working in London in the late ‘70s, ringing round friends to make sure they were safe after one bombing or another but I know some northern and southern Irish and they were as sickened, and scared, as I was. I also know Muslims, have known Jews and one or two of the less mainstream religions. Please, please don’t let hate into your heart. Fomenting hatred and division is something these madmen/monsters/idiots would like to do. I’m not a pacifist, I’ll fight if I have to – in fact I can be a pretty antagonistic person - but I like to fight the right people. I agree with you, appeasement is wrong and I wish I knew a better way but perhaps we can at least act carefully?"

'Work scheme is "slave labour" '

There's an idea currently touted for a work scheme for youngsters who have just left school.

'18-24 year-olds who have spent less than 6 months in employment since leaving school or college will have to work at least 30 hours a week to get their £56-a-week job-seeker's allowance. They will also get a guaranteed 10 hours a week help preparing their CVs and searching for a job'.

The intention is to try to enourage a routine of work so they don't become used to a 'benefits lifestyle'. Benefits will be with-held if they don't comply.

There is the usual outcry of 'slave labour'.

Good grief! Slaves are made to work without pay, these youngsters are simply being asked put something back into society in return for benefits in a way that will benefit everyone else while imparting a work ethic. Why is that so wrong?

If the proposal were for them to work for commercial business I would not be so supportive (I believe there was such a proposal but it seems to have foundered) because there are too many employers out there who would abuse the system. However, the proposal is for the youngsters to work for charities or community groups. This is otherwise unpaid work and not taking paid employment away from anyone else. It may not be their dream job but how many of us are in our dream jobs?

One stated objection has been that it would be preferrable to spend the money on courses to give them marketable job skills. Ahem, what exactly is the point of the education system we already have in place if not to provide this? These people have already, supposedly, been through the system and are now as educated as they are going to get, highly qualified or otherwise. They are now out the other side and out of work. Why would we want to spend yet more money on yet more courses, effectively deferring the problem, without any return?

Preparation for life cannot go on indefinitely, eventually life has to be lived.

Frankly, I would like to see this work-for-benefits system extended to other groups of unemployed people, not just school-leavers. It just needs to be thought through and set up properly in the first place.

So long as they have enough time free each week to search for paid employment and attend job interviews where is the downside? Perhaps there is one but I haven't found it yet.

Any thoughts out there?