(Hopefully will make a second visit today 9th September 2025
Discovered Café Freddo in Newquay today, the crazy Café with a table tennis bat traffic system ( the stairs to the cafe toilet are very steep and narrow so access is one by one).
Firstly the ice cream and coffee are amazing.I had a mascaparone ,fig and balsamic vinegar scoop plus a blueberry scoop in a two tubber and a really nice mocha to accompany it. My other half had a rum and raisin and salted caramel and a latte.Both coffees were well above average and nicely presented with loose Biscoff biscuits(my favourite)
The Café is dog friendly and has doggy ice cream on offer,which my dog really enjoyed.
What I loved about this Café is despite being absolutely on trend with it’s food and drinks, it still has time to care about those less fortunate than us Coffee and Ice Cream lovers with disposable income.
For me when an unkempt man came in and said he wanted to put a pound towards his tab,I thought wow, he’s loud.
The owners though smiled and said that’s great and Clive(one of the owners) said that’s fine and said you’ve only got a couple of pounds outstanding now.
What happened next made me laugh.Clive looked at the pound coin as the unkept man went to exit and said “hold on,this is fake”.The unkempt man turned and looked askance,however, Clive smiled and said”only kidding”. It was a good joke which the unkempt man appreciated,and in a weird way gave him respect and a laugh at the same time.
It was a good moment.Well done Clive,we’ll be back,and I loved the wetsuit hanging up in the back,ready for use after a hard day’s work making ice cream .
It told him the exact location of the next secret meeting.He would leave work early, his personal assistant and his secretary would be relieved.Max was becoming more unpredictable and it was getting harder to anticipate his needs.Max knew what he was doing and they didn’t ,still he smiled and asked them to resolve some innocuous tasks that meant they would have to stay late.
The meeting would take place in Maximillian’s an exclusive hotel in Berkshire, famous for being famous and so expensive that mere millionaires could not afford it. Celebrity chefs were two a penny and in truth the clientele were not big eaters or indeed drinkers anymore
There were holistic and not so holistic spa treatments Anything was on demand for a price, except hard drugs, there was no place for them.But you could order a whole body blood transfusion to oxidise your red blood cells.The personal fitness trainer and sex guru were particularly popular, and sex after a body toning session was in high demand and had to be booked months in advance.
And who owned this renowned but secretive hideaway for the appallingly rich.Why Max’s friend Ernhest Glastesizer. The Glastesizer Corporation was now a massive Global concern with interests in many pies.Even if you wanted to you couldn’t work out it’s financial too-ings and fro-ings, where the money came from and where it went. Energy, Water,Technology,Supermarkets, Leisure,Fashion and any consumable you could think of.Glastesizer controlled a lot of what the World consumed.
Max had been mentored by Ernhest’s father Heinrich who he had met when he started attending the 4R meetings. Heinrich had very often said that Max was the son he would have wanted to have ,he was disappointed in Ernhest, the boy only wanted to travel and did not pay attention to his studies.
Heinrich didn’t like the fact that after spending vast amounts of money on Private Schools for Ernhest it had gone to waste and came to nothing, no exam results and no University .Expulsions for petty theft , drugs deals , smoking and finally getting the School chaplain’s daughter pregnant at fourteen.
Ernhest had been eighteen years old when that had happened, his father had made the necessary arrangements to “manage the situation”.Thankfully by getting Ernhest out of the Country, the “rape” charges were dropped.
And now at 40 years old ,his father dead, Ernhest was in charge of the whole Corporation and was actually doing rather a good job.
Heinrich had brought Ernhest along to his first meeting, when Heinreich’s cancer diagnosis became terminal and he could no longer drive himself.At first Max thought that Ernhest was treating it all as a big joke, what did he know of the history and then as time went on Ernhest began to listen more to what was being said and stopped doodling on his notebook or excusing himself for hour long toilet breaks.
Perhaps it was after the third meeting, and after Heinreich’s speech about Ernhest taking over the helm of both the business side and also the membership of the 4R Society that Max realised how useful Ernhest could be.
They were the same age, different personalities but both were obsessives.Perhaps Ernhest was more interested in the money side, it didn’t matter.When Ernhest asked him to teach him the “history”, Max knew he was hooked.
They met up once a week and they talked about the third Reich and what went wrong and that there was now an opportunity to put it all to rights.Ernhest understood opportunity and felt there was mileage in this craziness.Perhaps Max was right,it was their destiny.
Max, whisky in hand had no intention of going home that night.He sat staring at the flames of the fire in the old fireplace, he would stay there until they died down, he would keep Marlena on her toes, she was always so grateful when he got home and he always said he’d been at his club though she didn’t believe him.
The fire had been freshly stoked by the butler and its’ warmth and the whisky made him feel sleepy, he closed his eyes.
It was one of those neverending Corporate BBC meetings, but Max had his figures at the ready. Christmas was in decline, and the star fees were getting out of control, heads had to roll and new cheaper talent had to be brought in.Audience loyalty was non existent.
“We have to let Morecambe and Wise go”.Max said it coldly and bluntly.The other executives looked at each other.
One mumbled “but..”
“But no….it’s time ,let ITV take them, they’re old hat , we can get cheaper and better,well if not better ,different.”.
“..and anyway”Max continued “We don’t have the money”.
Everyone knew this to be true..
“Look I’ve been doing the figures, this is where we are and this is where we need to be”
The meeting rumbled on, but Max got his way…a complete reorganisation of News and Current Affairs, less Drama and Comedy and more Reality and Quiz shows, everyone loved a Quiz.
In reality , that meeting was the beginning of the end for the traditional, socially aware and basically British television.
The BBC had to get real, if it wanted a National Licence Fee, then it had to appeal to the Nation,all of them.It had to prove it’s worth to those who they disagreed with in principle,they had to be less lefty and more appreciative of the right.
Somehow, Max had integrated this thought into his well prepared, yet impromptu presentation and he was very pleased with some of the board member’s reactions .It had hit the right spot with some key people .There were mutters of ” yes”, they needed to change and to appeal to the masses.
The majority though were disheartened, Play for Today was riding high,with “Edna The Inebriate Woman” making a strong statement on Social Issues in Society that needed to be addressed, good drama could drive Policy.
“Our job is not to drive Policy, that is for the Government in Power to do, we must reflect Society, all elements of it , however distasteful that may be.We are a Nation of millionaire entrepreneurs as well as alcohol ridden social misfits.’
And so it continued, Max had set the seed in place for the future…he woke up in his chair at the Club,just as the meeting he had relived in his dream ended.
It was one o’clock in the morning, he sat bolt upright in his chair and decided he would head home and plant his seed in Marlena, she would still be up waiting for him.Perhaps he would get her to dress up for him and do her funny German accent, it was so funny. Marlena was such a good sport.
A fictional story about what might have happened to our well respected British Broadcasting Corporation if it had gotten into the wrong hands.Any similarities to events or persons is completely coincidental as the author has used her imagination to envisage the outcomes of her characters actions.
Max sat back in his favourite leather chair in the smoking room of his Club.They called it a smoking room, but no one smoked anymore,the last one Max remembered was an old soak who used to drink like a fish smoked imported cigars from overseas,at least three a day and ended up dying painfully of cancer of the spleen, at a famous London Teaching Hospital, apparently he exploded on the operating table,made a hell of a mess.The surgeon in charge (who was also a Club member) had said that the operating theatre was closed for weeks and any staff present were having weekly tests for pathogens they may have been exposed to.
The talk in the Club had cured everyone of smoking and most drank moderately.Max smiled at the thought of the exploding cadaver, and then his thoughts turned to Marlena his wife. He smiled again, She was at home as usual, their two children, dutifully with their mother and studying hard for their up and coming exams.
The children would grow up wanting to be like him, not their mother. Still ,she was a good wife and he had no plans to divorce her and his days of chasing skirts or trousers depending on his mood were over.
He was close,so close to achieving his dream. The secret meeting he had had with his comrades the evening before had confirmed how much progress had been made. Operation Infectious Spider Bite was coming to a conclusion after twenty years.The poison was pulsing through the veins of Society and there was no known. anti-dote
Society was a rabid monster, and anyone who tried to control it would very soon find themselves dealing with those who had been disenfranchised and left without any hope of prosperity or a future.
And how indeed had it all happened and why was Max such a key figure.No one had at first taken him seriously, he was just a kid rooting around in the archives of The BBC.
It was when he started bringing old footage which he had stolen and suggesting it’s impact on the outcome of the War, that someone , he wasn’t sure who had “recruited” him and a whole new World opened up to him.
The meetings were always secretly held and no one knew any of the other attendees.They did however all speak traditional German,the only permitted language. It was known as “Higher or Pure German.” It was a matter of honour to not make any mistakes or address anyone incorrectly.It was a discipline Max appreciated.
His role had grown in importance over the years as it became obvious that Propaganda was a key resource and that Britain needed to be broken.
Max was in the perfect position to help with that.No one was in a rush, the process would take a long time , each step was a step forward.The BBC was a prize for the taking and would ensure there would be no repeat of the debacle of World War Two, indeed no ridiculous Lord Haw Haw, who everyone laughed at and no one believed.
The people would take everything seriously .The population in their desperation would be unable to laugh at anything anymore , themselves or ridiculous events and it could all be done by “programming” which Max was very good at.
Now that the end was so near, Max.looked back at what he had done and he was very pleased with himself
And so at the tender age of 57 Maximillian Schmidtt-Bramoff , known as Max Longbottom was the Governer of the BBC. He had been a rising star in his early 20’s having joined the BBC from University and having worked with some of the big stars of the day producing first rate documentaries and also music and comedy programmes. He learned his craft quickly and he quickly built up a reputation as the up and coming producer who everyone wanted to work with.y
During that period , his mother and father rarely saw him, in his spare time he would be in the BBC archives , examining all sorts of footage ,mainly from the Second World War.
When Max’s parents were killed in a head on car crash on holiday in Devon,it took the Police some time to locate their only next of kin, Max , unknown to anyone(as he should have been on holiday with his parents ) he was indeed in the vast archives of the old broadcasting house delving through all the old records and destroying any footage that depicted the ” spirit” that somehow had won through and led to the VE day celebrations which were well documented.
Max couldn’t rewrite history, but he could edit it. Eventually when he climbed up the career ladder of BBC Corporate, he argued at meetings for a clear out of the archives, that there was no room to store all of this stuff and to digitize it would be expensive and take too long.
Slowly and steadily he had won his battle and now much of what he saw as his destiny had been put in place. Those liberal communists wouldn’t know what had hit them when the time came .Yes he played along with them, they saw him as Mad Max, they didn’t see the cold calculating Max whose only objective was to establish a global fourth Reich. Max had effectively dismantled the BBC, indeed he had used Public Money to do so, the people had paid their license money into Max’s propaganda fund.
Did he use their ingrained fears and prejudices or had he imposed his and his comrades, he was no longer sure but the plan was working.
Max was having a small dinner tonight at his Club.It was an anniversary, ten years since he had persuaded Parliament that the BBC was no longer fit for purpose and needed to move forward. Max had been vague about what forward meant, but he was well thought of and fascism never entered anyone’s head.Max was dedicated to the BBC and Public Service, they applauded his speech and ideas.Those that disagreed with him were outnumbered, Max was the man for the job.
This is a fictional story not a commentary on what is actually happening at the BBC. A purely fictional story from my imagination, inspired by Primo Levi’s book The Periodic Table, which touches on how, he, as an Italian Chemist looking for work after the war had to deal with people who he had known while working at a big rubber plant next to Auschwitz. Although a well qualified chemist , he was in fact just another slave worker because of his Jewish religion. One of his bosses, “Mueller”, he came across years later while working as a free man in an Italian factory as an Industrial Chemist.
It fascinates me that the survivors were not only those who were prisoners in the death camps , but also those who played a role in managing businesses attached to the camp in an effort to support the Economy that the Nazi’s so heavily relied on. Where are those people today and have they forgotten what was taken away from them?
As Primo Levi outlined, his protagonist sought some sort of forgiveness which Levi felt he could not give. I on the other hand believe that there are some who think that their actions during the war were justified and those who would never see them as wrong or against humanity.
Well those people still exist and perhaps a great Institution like the BBC is one of their targets. After all the BBC did a lot of damage to the German War Effort , it’s independence and World Service were examples to everyone… and that is where my story begins.
Carbon survives and is part and parcel of our World. No matter what happens.
Maximillian pushed back in his office chai and stretched his long legs under his desk. He smiled as he remembered his Great Grandfather’s soliloquies on “George Orwell”, calling them soliloquies perhaps was too kind or perhaps a stylish remnant of Max’s penchant for flowery language which he had on what he regarded as false pretences(what nonsense English Poetry was) achieved his double first in English Literature at Cambridge.
English Literature indeed, once you knew German, proper German, every other language was der unsinn or garbage and easily mastered if you put your mind to it which of course Max had. His English accent was perfect and no one but his close circle ever heard him speak German.
His Great Grandfather’s speeches were indeed rants, just like his progenitor Adolf Hitler and in the care home that he eventually landed up in England, he would rant on endlessly about “George”, the Socialist, that Communist Bugger. All his Great Grandpa’s care staff were from the Phillipines and hadn’t got a clue what he was talking about. They saw him as an acerbic old grouchy man, harmless and quite lost in his own World, but Maximillian had known what his Great Grandpa was talking about and he totally agreed with him.
His Gramp Pa had gone into hiding after World War two, he had lost everything. He like thousands of others was a refugee, wandering the streets of Berlin, looking for his wife and children.
Unfortunately his house , his old life all gone Kapuut. After finding out his wife and children had died in one of the allied bombing raids , he managed to get to West Berlin before East Berlin was cut off. He was helped by some Nazi colleagues who were able to provide him with false papers, a false identity and a method of escape. He was indeed a wanted man as many who had anything to do with the “death camps” were.
With his new identity he blended into his new life.Working his way gradually across Europe as a travelling salesman.His penchant for languages stood him in good stead and he thought it genius that his false identity included a reference to Jewish ancestry.It had got him out of many a pickle as people looked at him in horror and if needed he would refer to a death camp and those he had lost in them .He was a good actor too.
Why he hated George Orwell so much, Max could never quite grasp, until when Max joined the BBC in the late 1990’s as fresh undergraduate, direct from University, full of ideas and on a fast track to be a producer , that perhaps he understood what had gone on as he had access to BBC archives .
Orwell worked for the BBC from 1941 to 1943, and during those years the Reich’s war had flourished, it certainly looked on the cards for a big change to happen to the World and for the Reich and it’s belief in it’s own destiny to be fulfilled. The German Army were largely in control of Europe, they were attacking the Russians and their allies. The Rest of the World too was beginning to see the benefits of authoritarian regimes , Japan was a strong ally and the Americans were keen to keep out of the War.
So what did Orwell do, living in drab London, under war conditions and doing a job as a journalist for the BBC which as an Institution he was largely unimpressed with. He stuck to the truth and he learned how to communicate succinctly and meaningfully with people who needed to hear the truth. He questioned authority and reported facts on the BBC’s World Broadcasting Stage which reached many that were living under authoritarian regimes or in conditions of extreme danger and at the same time gathered his ideas to write a book which would become “1984.”
This was why Max hated him and that was why Max had worked hard at the BBC to ruin it’s ethical stand and to ensure that the truth was a version of what Max and people like him wanted people to know. However, Max knew he had to be clever and he had helped with the process that lead to Orwell’s statue being placed outside the new building that became Broadcasting House. It appeased the BBC “socialists” and was part of his strategy in achieving Board Status at the BBC. Once on the Board of Governors , anything was possible.
(to be continued)
Thank you for reading and may your omnipotent being go with you. 🙏
Centuries-old German pumpernickel recipes, sourdough loaves made entirely from rye and typically coarsely ground rye berries. The dark colour of the bread comes from Maillard browning , the result of being baked at low temperature for many hours. A bread of love.
thenotsomightyom 