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The ridge at this point about fifty yards wide, and as the hut was on the south edge of the ridge, and the village on the north face of the hill, the latter was not visible from the former. I had been sitting on the rock for ten minutes when a head appeared over the crest from the direction of the village, followed by a second and a third. My friend the water-carrier had not been slow in informing the village of my arrival.

When strangers meet in India and wish to glean information from each other on any particular subject, it is customary to refrain from broaching the subject that has brought them together - whether accidentally or of set purpose - until the very last moment and to fill up the interval by finding out everything concerning each other's domestic and private affairs; as, for instance, whether married and if so the number and sex of children and their ages; if not married, why not; occupation and amount of pay, and so on. Questions that would in any other part of the world earn one a thick ear, are in India - and especially in our hills - asked so artlessly and universally that no one who has lived among the people, dreams of taking offence at them.

The ridge at this point about fifty yards wide, and as the hut was on the south edge of the ridge, and the village on the north face of the hill, the latter was not visible from the former. I had been sitting on the rock for ten minutes when a head appeared over the crest from the direction of the village, followed by a second and a third. My friend the water-carrier had not been slow in informing the village of my arrival.

When strangers meet in India and wish to glean information from each other on any particular subject, it is customary to refrain from broaching the subject that has brought them together - whether accidentally or of set purpose - until the very last moment and to fill up the interval by finding out everything concerning each other's domestic and private affairs; as, for instance, whether married and if so the number and sex of children and their ages; if not married, why not; occupation and amount of pay, and so on. Questions that would in any other part of the world earn one a thick ear, are in India - and especially in our hills - asked so artlessly and universally that no one who has lived among the people, dreams of taking offence at them.

The ridge at this point about fifty yards wide, and as the hut was on the south edge of the ridge, and the village on the north face of the hill, the latter was not visible from the former. I had been sitting on the rock for ten minutes when a head appeared over the crest from the direction of the village, followed by a second and a third. My friend the water-carrier had not been slow in informing the village of my arrival.

When strangers meet in India and wish to glean information from each other on any particular subject, it is customary to refrain from broaching the subject that has brought them together - whether accidentally or of set purpose - until the very last moment and to fill up the interval by finding out everything concerning each other's domestic and private affairs; as, for instance, whether married and if so the number and sex of children and their ages; if not married, why not; occupation and amount of pay, and so on. Questions that would in any other part of the world earn one a thick ear, are in India - and especially in our hills - asked so artlessly and universally that no one who has lived among the people, dreams of taking offence at them.

The ridge at this point about fifty yards wide, and as the hut was on the south edge of the ridge, and the village on the north face of the hill, the latter was not visible from the former. I had been sitting on the rock for ten minutes when a head appeared over the crest from the direction of the village, followed by a second and a third. My friend the water-carrier had not been slow in informing the village of my arrival.

When strangers meet in India and wish to glean information from each other on any particular subject, it is customary to refrain from broaching the subject that has brought them together - whether accidentally or of set purpose - until the very last moment and to fill up the interval by finding out everything concerning each other's domestic and private affairs; as, for instance, whether married and if so the number and sex of children and their ages; if not married, why not; occupation and amount of pay, and so on. Questions that would in any other part of the world earn one a thick ear, are in India - and especially in our hills - asked so artlessly and universally that no one who has lived among the people, dreams of taking offence at them.

The ridge at this point about fifty yards wide, and as the hut was on the south edge of the ridge, and the village on the north face of the hill, the latter was not visible from the former. I had been sitting on the rock for ten minutes when a head appeared over the crest from the direction of the village, followed by a second and a third. My friend the water-carrier had not been slow in informing the village of my arrival.

When strangers meet in India and wish to glean information from each other on any particular subject, it is customary to refrain from broaching the subject that has brought them together - whether accidentally or of set purpose - until the very last moment and to fill up the interval by finding out everything concerning each other's domestic and private affairs; as, for instance, whether married and if so the number and sex of children and their ages; if not married, why not; occupation and amount of pay, and so on. Questions that would in any other part of the world earn one a thick ear, are in India - and especially in our hills - asked so artlessly and universally that no one who has lived among the people, dreams of taking offence at them.

In 1984, the French and the British agreed that a link across the English Channel would be mutually beneficial. However, both the Governments realised that although the project would create the much needed jobs, neither country's Government could fund such a massive project. Thus, they decided to hold a contest.

This contest invited companies to submit their plan to create a link across the English Channel. As part of the contest's requirements, the submitting company was to provide a plan to raise the needed funds to build the project, have the ability to operate the proposed Channel link once the project was completed, and the proposed link must be able to endure for at least 120 years.

Ten proposals were submitted, including various tunnels and bridges. Some of the proposals were so outlandish in design that they were easily dismissed; others would be so expensive that they were unlikely to ever be completed. The successful proposal planned for a tunnel made up of two, parallel railway tunnels that would be dug under the English Channel. Between these two railway tunnels would run a third, smaller tunnel that would be used for maintenance, including drainage pipes, communication cables etc.

After the first testrun on 10 December 1993, the Channel Tunnel officially opened on 6 may 1994.

In 1984, the French and the British agreed that a link across the English Channel would be mutually beneficial. However, both the Governments realised that although the project would create the much needed jobs, neither country's Government could fund such a massive project. Thus, they decided to hold a contest.

This contest invited companies to submit their plan to create a link across the English Channel. As part of the contest's requirements, the submitting company was to provide a plan to raise the needed funds to build the project, have the ability to operate the proposed Channel link once the project was completed, and the proposed link must be able to endure for at least 120 years.

Ten proposals were submitted, including various tunnels and bridges. Some of the proposals were so outlandish in design that they were easily dismissed; others would be so expensive that they were unlikely to ever be completed. The successful proposal planned for a tunnel made up of two, parallel railway tunnels that would be dug under the English Channel. Between these two railway tunnels would run a third, smaller tunnel that would be used for maintenance, including drainage pipes, communication cables etc.

After the first testrun on 10 December 1993, the Channel Tunnel officially opened on 6 may 1994.

In 1984, the French and the British agreed that a link across the English Channel would be mutually beneficial. However, both the Governments realised that although the project would create the much needed jobs, neither country's Government could fund such a massive project. Thus, they decided to hold a contest.

This contest invited companies to submit their plan to create a link across the English Channel. As part of the contest's requirements, the submitting company was to provide a plan to raise the needed funds to build the project, have the ability to operate the proposed Channel link once the project was completed, and the proposed link must be able to endure for at least 120 years.

Ten proposals were submitted, including various tunnels and bridges. Some of the proposals were so outlandish in design that they were easily dismissed; others would be so expensive that they were unlikely to ever be completed. The successful proposal planned for a tunnel made up of two, parallel railway tunnels that would be dug under the English Channel. Between these two railway tunnels would run a third, smaller tunnel that would be used for maintenance, including drainage pipes, communication cables etc.

After the first testrun on 10 December 1993, the Channel Tunnel officially opened on 6 may 1994.

In 1984, the French and the British agreed that a link across the English Channel would be mutually beneficial. However, both the Governments realised that although the project would create the much needed jobs, neither country's Government could fund such a massive project. Thus, they decided to hold a contest.

This contest invited companies to submit their plan to create a link across the English Channel. As part of the contest's requirements, the submitting company was to provide a plan to raise the needed funds to build the project, have the ability to operate the proposed Channel link once the project was completed, and the proposed link must be able to endure for at least 120 years.

Ten proposals were submitted, including various tunnels and bridges. Some of the proposals were so outlandish in design that they were easily dismissed; others would be so expensive that they were unlikely to ever be completed. The successful proposal planned for a tunnel made up of two, parallel railway tunnels that would be dug under the English Channel. Between these two railway tunnels would run a third, smaller tunnel that would be used for maintenance, including drainage pipes, communication cables etc.

After the first testrun on 10 December 1993, the Channel Tunnel officially opened on 6 may 1994.

In 1984, the French and the British agreed that a link across the English Channel would be mutually beneficial. However, both the Governments realised that although the project would create the much needed jobs, neither country's Government could fund such a massive project. Thus, they decided to hold a contest.

This contest invited companies to submit their plan to create a link across the English Channel. As part of the contest's requirements, the submitting company was to provide a plan to raise the needed funds to build the project, have the ability to operate the proposed Channel link once the project was completed, and the proposed link must be able to endure for at least 120 years.

Ten proposals were submitted, including various tunnels and bridges. Some of the proposals were so outlandish in design that they were easily dismissed; others would be so expensive that they were unlikely to ever be completed. The successful proposal planned for a tunnel made up of two, parallel railway tunnels that would be dug under the English Channel. Between these two railway tunnels would run a third, smaller tunnel that would be used for maintenance, including drainage pipes, communication cables etc.

After the first testrun on 10 December 1993, the Channel Tunnel officially opened on 6 may 1994.

When I was a small child my grandparents would take me blackberry picking. It was usually late August when the blackberries had fully ripened. Grandad would drive us is in his old van. Despite not being comfortable or particularly safe, Grandad's van had a character you would not find in sleek new car complete with the latest innovations and a silent engine. Being seven or eight at the time, I always enjoyed a trip as we bounced along to our destination.

My grandparents always chose the same spot. Wild blackberry bushes stretched along the roadside as far as the eye could see in the both directions. The road overlooked a small pitch and putt course. On such sunny summer days it was always full. Golfers ambled sedately from hole and the crack of metal striking ball was a constant accompaniment.

Several hours of picking berries ensured. Nana warned me not to eat any until they had all been washed but turned a knowing blind eye while I gorged anyway. I also helped myself to the occasional unripe red berry as I had a particular taste for anything bitter. The fully immature green berries proved a step too far for even my pallet and were merely unpleasant.

When at last we were finished the bright scenery had turned to lengthy shadows and the afternoon had elapsed into evening. Grandad hauled a bin bag half full of berries back to the van. Juice bled slowly onto the ground. Nana would later make apple and blackberry tarts and fill several jars with jam. When I reached the van my stomach hurt from too much fruit. My hands stung from constant thorn pricks and were strained dark purple. I always enjoyed those days.

When I was a small child my grandparents would take me blackberry picking. It was usually late August when the blackberries had fully ripened. Grandad would drive us is in his old van. Despite not being comfortable or particularly safe, Grandad's van had a character you would not find in sleek new car complete with the latest innovations and a silent engine. Being seven or eight at the time, I always enjoyed a trip as we bounced along to our destination.

My grandparents always chose the same spot. Wild blackberry bushes stretched along the roadside as far as the eye could see in the both directions. The road overlooked a small pitch and putt course. On such sunny summer days it was always full. Golfers ambled sedately from hole and the crack of metal striking ball was a constant accompaniment.

Several hours of picking berries ensured. Nana warned me not to eat any until they had all been washed but turned a knowing blind eye while I gorged anyway. I also helped myself to the occasional unripe red berry as I had a particular taste for anything bitter. The fully immature green berries proved a step too far for even my pallet and were merely unpleasant.

When at last we were finished the bright scenery had turned to lengthy shadows and the afternoon had elapsed into evening. Grandad hauled a bin bag half full of berries back to the van. Juice bled slowly onto the ground. Nana would later make apple and blackberry tarts and fill several jars with jam. When I reached the van my stomach hurt from too much fruit. My hands stung from constant thorn pricks and were strained dark purple. I always enjoyed those days.

When I was a small child my grandparents would take me blackberry picking. It was usually late August when the blackberries had fully ripened. Grandad would drive us is in his old van. Despite not being comfortable or particularly safe, Grandad's van had a character you would not find in sleek new car complete with the latest innovations and a silent engine. Being seven or eight at the time, I always enjoyed a trip as we bounced along to our destination.

My grandparents always chose the same spot. Wild blackberry bushes stretched along the roadside as far as the eye could see in the both directions. The road overlooked a small pitch and putt course. On such sunny summer days it was always full. Golfers ambled sedately from hole and the crack of metal striking ball was a constant accompaniment.

Several hours of picking berries ensured. Nana warned me not to eat any until they had all been washed but turned a knowing blind eye while I gorged anyway. I also helped myself to the occasional unripe red berry as I had a particular taste for anything bitter. The fully immature green berries proved a step too far for even my pallet and were merely unpleasant.

When at last we were finished the bright scenery had turned to lengthy shadows and the afternoon had elapsed into evening. Grandad hauled a bin bag half full of berries back to the van. Juice bled slowly onto the ground. Nana would later make apple and blackberry tarts and fill several jars with jam. When I reached the van my stomach hurt from too much fruit. My hands stung from constant thorn pricks and were strained dark purple. I always enjoyed those days.

When I was a small child my grandparents would take me blackberry picking. It was usually late August when the blackberries had fully ripened. Grandad would drive us is in his old van. Despite not being comfortable or particularly safe, Grandad's van had a character you would not find in sleek new car complete with the latest innovations and a silent engine. Being seven or eight at the time, I always enjoyed a trip as we bounced along to our destination.

My grandparents always chose the same spot. Wild blackberry bushes stretched along the roadside as far as the eye could see in the both directions. The road overlooked a small pitch and putt course. On such sunny summer days it was always full. Golfers ambled sedately from hole and the crack of metal striking ball was a constant accompaniment.

Several hours of picking berries ensured. Nana warned me not to eat any until they had all been washed but turned a knowing blind eye while I gorged anyway. I also helped myself to the occasional unripe red berry as I had a particular taste for anything bitter. The fully immature green berries proved a step too far for even my pallet and were merely unpleasant.

When at last we were finished the bright scenery had turned to lengthy shadows and the afternoon had elapsed into evening. Grandad hauled a bin bag half full of berries back to the van. Juice bled slowly onto the ground. Nana would later make apple and blackberry tarts and fill several jars with jam. When I reached the van my stomach hurt from too much fruit. My hands stung from constant thorn pricks and were strained dark purple. I always enjoyed those days.

When I was a small child my grandparents would take me blackberry picking. It was usually late August when the blackberries had fully ripened. Grandad would drive us is in his old van. Despite not being comfortable or particularly safe, Grandad's van had a character you would not find in sleek new car complete with the latest innovations and a silent engine. Being seven or eight at the time, I always enjoyed a trip as we bounced along to our destination.

My grandparents always chose the same spot. Wild blackberry bushes stretched along the roadside as far as the eye could see in the both directions. The road overlooked a small pitch and putt course. On such sunny summer days it was always full. Golfers ambled sedately from hole and the crack of metal striking ball was a constant accompaniment.

Several hours of picking berries ensured. Nana warned me not to eat any until they had all been washed but turned a knowing blind eye while I gorged anyway. I also helped myself to the occasional unripe red berry as I had a particular taste for anything bitter. The fully immature green berries proved a step too far for even my pallet and were merely unpleasant.

When at last we were finished the bright scenery had turned to lengthy shadows and the afternoon had elapsed into evening. Grandad hauled a bin bag half full of berries back to the van. Juice bled slowly onto the ground. Nana would later make apple and blackberry tarts and fill several jars with jam. When I reached the van my stomach hurt from too much fruit. My hands stung from constant thorn pricks and were strained dark purple. I always enjoyed those days.