Not All Cabbages are Green

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Like me, the cabbage in Nepal isn’t as green as it’s cabbage looking, I put it down to the Irish blood, (just look at Wayne Rooney). The same excuse though can’t be said for Nepal, a net importer of food when it shouldn’t be. Lying just above the tropics it has a climate conducive for all year round growing yet many of the terraces lay abandoned. The cabbage is I believe, unlike a lot of the vegetables on sale, grown in Nepal, and its beautifully sweet, which is why I bought a big one. Along with locally grown potatoes, of which there are a fair number of varieties (pinks, whites and purples), it makes a great soup. However most of the potatoes are second earlies and salads. There doesn’t seem to be any main crop varieties and they are similarly small, as are the vegetables in general: and I know why.

Nepal’s inability to feed itself and furthermore to be a net exporter of produce is the main reasons I am here: they haven’t a clue how to grow horticultural crops so I want to start a horticultural training operation. One to teach sustainable crop and soil husbandry and this blog as my other sites (, has been created to promote that aim.

However whilst I have the skills in soil science, horticulture and habitat management (, as well as mechanical and civil engineering skills (and lets not forget who created all there sites too: me, in their entirety), I don’t have the funds. I came here on a one way flight with some tools and equipment and £2500 in cash. It should have been more but I bought myself a Nikon Z6 and a couple of lenses. That, together with all the other equipment needed set me back £4000. It may seem like an extravagance but the expense was more an investment and a means to enjoy myself chasing butterflies whilst trying not to run off a mountain in the process.

I’ve been trying for 30 years to get the powers to be to take sustainability seriously but instead of doing so they have preferred to try and undermine me; but that’s another story, one detailed in the pages of narcissism corner on Like Persephone I would aver I’ve been (metaphorically) raped by a demon. However I’m not here to bemoan the past, all that matters is that I’m still here, still trying and wont stop till either there’s no planet left to save or, as is rapidly approaching, the grave gets me. Lets face it I’m 53 years old now (I can’t believe it either) so by the time 2050 dawns upon us I’ll be 83 and senile or dead, as will be the planet if we don’t act NOW!

Lets hope it’s the latter for me, not the planet. Similarly I’ve not pissed the bed since I was about 4 years old so having to don a nappy in old age to get into one isn’t something I’m looking forward too. As it happens I’ve taken out an assurance policy: I smoke, a lot. Thankfully fags (cigarettes to any yanks reading) are cheaper here than when I first started 40 years ago: only 60p for twenty, so at least my 40 a day habit isn’t eating too hard into what’s left of the £2500 I came here with. But it is shrinking and whilst I will last another 3 months, not sure where the funds to build the centre nor where the skilled computer and phone app programmers I need to build the Persephone project will come from either. On the bright side, and assuming the fog eventually lifts, I will at least get some great shots of Nepal’s shrinking glaciers whilst I’m here and may even get to sell some. Although I’m not too sure how any one purchasing them will pay me as I’ve no bank account and no paypal. Bitcoin anyone? On the off chance anyone reading this feels sorry for me, here’s my Bitcoin address:


Or if you think you can help in some other way, drop me a line. I haven’t yet got around to setting up contact details but if you head over to phasm there’s a contact form (and lots of other things worth reading) there. Phasm contact form

Alternatively you could hit the subscriber link below and get some more of my ramblings sent direct to your in box. It won’t help save the planet but it will at least stroke my ego.