o picnic

To Mother, this made all the difference; the difference between reading your horoscope in a women’s magazine and having your future told by a genuine gypsy on the steps of his caravan. Throughout the war, the British government, including Churchill (when he was not otherwise engaged) lived inside our radio set for the express purpose of keeping Mother informed as to the progress of the war, and the imminence of the German invasion. They had never told her a lie and, more important, they had won the war. Now, of course, the war was over, but the integrity of the men who had lived in the radio was just as impeccable as it had been of yore. When she heard farmers talking of thousands of cattle dying of thirst or reservoirs drying up, anonymous doctors giving tips on how to avoid sun-stroke, and of beauty consultants advising on how to get a tan without withering away, Mother naturally concluded that we were in for a heat-wave that would make the West Indies seem like an extension of Alaska.

“I’ve thought of a wonderful way of welcoming Larry back,” she said one morning at breakfast.

Larry, who of his own volition had been absent from England for some ten years, was paying a flying visit in order to attend to the promotion of one of his books. In spite of a letter from him saying how the thought of returning to what he called Pudding Island revolted him, Mother was convinced that he was pining for the sights and sounds of “Merry England” after so many years as an exile.

 The picnic 

Gerald Durrell

  
traducido por Ana Mª Gaiteiro e Fernando Pereira

publicado como O Picnic en 1996

Para Madre, isto supoñía unha diferencia decisiva; a diferencia entre lo-lo teu horóscopo nunca revista do corazón e escoltar un aténtico xitano que che adiviña o futuro nos chamzos do seu carromato. Ó longo da guerra, o goberno británico, incluído Churchill ( cando non estaba atarefado noutra cousa) , vivía no interios do noso aparello de radio co explícito obxectivo de Manter a Madre informada sobre o desenvolvemento da Guerra e a inminencia da invasión alemana. Nunca lle contaran ningunha mentira, e o que é máis importante, gañaran a guerra. Desde logo, agora a guerra rematara, pero a integridade dos homes que vivían na radio era hogano tan impecable como fora anatano. Cando oía os granxeiros falando de milleiros de vacas que morrían de sede ou de enconos que secaban, a médicos anónimos aconsellando como evitar unha insolación, e a consultoras de beleza informando de omo poñerse moreno ser marchar, Madre concluía naturalmente que estabamos a piques de sufrir unha vaga de calor que faría que as Antillas parecesen unha prolongación de Alaska.

-Ocorréuseme un xeito marabilloso de darlle a benvida a Larry-dixo unha mañá durante o almorzó.

Larry ,que, por vontade propia, estivera fóra de Inglaterra durante uns dez anos, ía facer unha berve visita co fin de ocuparse da promoción dun dos seus libros. A pesar dunha carta na que espresaba o noxo que lle producía a idea de volver ó que chamaba Illa Pudin, Madre estaba convencida de que despois de tantos anos como exiliado tiña morriña das vivitas e sons da "Inglaterra gloriosa dos tempos pasados".