The presentation of gifts to the IW by Coburg. Picture by Robin Crossley.
Twinning associations are a bit like in-laws. You are keen to be on cordial terms. You show interest in each other’s domestic customs, you make visits from time to time and you are polite about their food and drink, despite your digestion being put through hell with all that schnapps and wurst.
In-laws can be a lottery, as, indeed, can twinning associations. How much did Le Mans know about Bolton when they decided to link up with this doughty outpost of Greater Manchester?
Then there’s Whitwell, a village in Rutland. It has just 19 houses, plus a pub, and it’s twinned with Paris.
I wonder what the Whitwell representatives take as a present when they visit Paris? You should always take the in-laws something when you call in and so it is with twinning associations. Nothing too flash, just a little token to show you care.
The first example of a twinning gift dates back to 863. The remains of St Liborius (“a whole body” according to one historian) were given in that year to the German city of Paderborn by the citizens of Le Mans (obviously before they discovered Bolton), thus beginning the tradition of handing out presies in a spirit of fraternity among the nations.
It was imaginative of Le Mans to think of a corpse as an ideal gift for their friends in Paderborn but, nowadays, twinning associations tend to rootle around for something a little less ambitious. There is still scope for originality, however.
The town of Abingdon merely dredged up a couple of mugs for their twinning partner in Belgium but Midhurst must be congratulated on lugging a telephone box over to Germany. (“Ein telephone box! Jawohl, just vot ve haf always vonted! Danke schon!”)
And what of the IW? It was the council’s job to find something when two people from the IW German Twinning Association visited Coburg recently. What did they take?
Any corpses or telephone boxes?
Although she didn’t know exactly what we gave to Coburg, a council spokeswoman was anxious to allay any fears of extravagance.
“We didn’t buy anything specially. It was stuff we already had,” she said. Ah yes, the present drawer, so useful when you have to find something for the in-laws.
What does the council keep in its present drawer?
The same as the rest of us, mostly trawled from unwanted gifts received in the past? A wicker basket of potpourri? A set of novelty coaster mats? Three tiny jars of Dundee marmalade, tied up with a tartan bow?
“There are various things,” I was told. “A little clock. A key ring.”
Thought so. Classic present drawer. Perhaps there’s a spoon in there? We’ve had lots of spoons over the years, mostly with fiddly pictures on them.
“A spoon with Osborne House on it.” This is like present-drawer bingo. No potpourri, though, which is a shame.
I’m sure Coburg was delighted to receive our council trinkets. But, of course, it had to give us something in return and the chairman of the IW council, Cllr David Williams, announced details of the bounty after our representatives returned from Germany.
The nice people of Coburg have given us a calendar. And a tie. I think they possibly bought the calendar but I bet the tie was in their presie drawer.
Cllr Williams says it’s going to be “placed somewhere”. Oh, stick it in the drawer with the key ring and the spoon. The blokes at County Hall can take it in turns to wear it, while the ladies can enjoy crossing the dates off from the new calendar.
Sorted. Thanks, Coburg. Hope the little clock keeps time OK. Let us know if you want to change it for a telephone box.
Move up – there’s another billion now
World population figures will reach a new zenith on Monday. That, according to the number-crunchers, is the date when a newborn baby will be the seventh billionth human currently knocking around our planet.
This has vast implications for the Island. It was once an established fact the world’s population could fit on the IW but this boom in statistics puts a different complexion on the matter. Even before this seven billion bombshell, we were only able to receive everybody if they stood upright.
What are we supposed to do now? Heaven knows, we need the publicity that comes with our longstanding willingness to welcome the entire population of the world but seven billion of them?
There’ll have to be human pyramids. And cut down any unnecessary foliage in your gardens. Put some footholds on your roofs.
And the ferry companies had better get their timetables sorted out or this whole project will be a fiasco.