Excerpt from my forthcoming book "Albania on my Mind"
I had a Phillips radio in my bedroom. It was a valve radio, rather than the more modern transistor-based instruments, which were already available in the 1960s. Once it had warmed up - a slow business taking up to a minute - and had stopped emitting crackling sounds, it was able to receive broadcasts on three wavebands including short-wave. I used to enjoy twiddling its tuning knob, and listening to broadcasts transmitted from all over the world. It was a window to the world beyond the confines of the highly manicured, desirable but rather dull, Hampstead Garden Suburb, where we lived.
One day, I tuned in on an exceptionally clear transmission, and listened with some curiosity and a great amount of surprise to a woman who was speaking perfect English with only the hint of a foreign accent. After a few minutes, she informed her audience far and wide that they were listening to the voice of Radio Tirana. I could not believe my ears. I made a mark on the tuning gauge to ensure that I would be able to find this station again. I tuned into Radio Tirana regularly, listening with astonishment and also amusement at the various commentators’ beautifully articulated words - mostly rants and raves directed against the actions of the imperialists and capitalists. These were punctuated by stirring Albanian songs sung in a style that was new to me, as I had never experienced the music of the Balkans before.
After a short while, I decided to write a letter to Radio Tirana. Somewhat tongue in cheek, I wrote to the unknown addressee (in English) that the songs, which were being broadcasted from
inspired me greatly and helped to reinforce my faith in Socialism. After addressing the letter’s envelope to
‘Radio Tirana, Albania ’, I waited with little expectation
of receiving any kind of reply. I thought that it was more likely that I would
receive a communication from MI5 or MI6 than anything from Tirana, Albania . However,
I was wrong to have been so pessimistic. A flat parcel, wrapped in brown paper and
string, arrived by post a few weeks later. It was from Albania . I
unwrapped it carefully, my fingers thrilling at the thought of handling
something that had arrived from the mysterious country that had begun to interest
me so greatly. Albania
The package contained a 10-inch diameter long-playing gramophone record in a garishly coloured cardboard sleeve. It was decorated with an electricity pylon; musicians in folk costumes; dancers dressed likewise; a man wearing baggy Turkish-style pantaloons; and an oil derrick. The plain, unadorned record label bore the name of the recording company: Pllake Shqipetare (‘Shqipëria’ being the Albanian word for
Now, why not read "ROGUE OF ROUXVILLE" ?
Dicing with debt, Jakob Klein struggles to support his growing family. He'll stop at nothing to achieve this. His dubious business ethics inevitably lead him into trouble with the law. He is imprisoned. His family have to flee from the small town in the Orange Free State, where they have lived.
What wll become of them, and of Jakob? Will they ever be reunited?
Read all about it in Adam Yamey's historical novel "ROGUE OF ROUXVILLE", available on AMAZON (Click HERE FOR KINDLE) and also on www.lulu.com (Click HERE FOR PAPERBACK ) .
For more details, click HERE