Meltdown

I get very excited if I find bits of loose change.

I do not mean that I constantly walk in a head down or stooping stance hoping to find the odd piece of coinage in public areas. Those days ended abruptly when I was fooled into trying to pick up a 50p coin which had been super-glued to the pavement.My children found that very amusing and a bit pathetic.

What really excites me is the touchy-feely outline and density of a lone coin or better still a loose array of coins in the pocket of my trousers, my suit jacket or a coat. There is a certain thrill about guessing the accumulated total of more than a single coin as this can mean the difference between a lunch consisting of a chocolate bar or a full portion of chips midway through the working day.

The current sterling issue comprises small sized coins, mostly, so even initially suspected coppers pointing to a sparse chocolate luncheon could yield forth, actually, a good few pounds and, by definition a veritable feast.

If a pocket-patting process is not successful then I usually strip out the car in search of monies.

First, the ash-tray, followed by the central console, CD compartment and then the actual coin-tray. Default setting is that the drivers seat is slid back as far as it will go to allow the voids and crevasses to be checked. Under the foot mat can sometimes prove rewarding.

There always tends to be a small amount of currency wedged in between the seat tracking rail and the handbrake mounting but if firmly esconced then I will usually leave it for another day when a knitting needle or sharp stick are to hand. This coin search initiative (CSI) is repeated for the surrounds of the front and rear passenger seats in strict rotation.

A properly thorough search does involve taking up a large area with all car doors wide open so I can be found strip-searching the car in the far corner of many supermarket car parks, in deserted lay-bys or in field gateways. To a passing vehicle this must look very strange and I am sure that my registration and description will be on some Police watch-list.

This daily routine, if I have not pre-planned my working lunch, has led me to reconsider my attitude towards money. This was very aptly illustrated during the Christmas period with the confusing choice of buying and later receiving foil wrapped chocolate coins. The gold coins are very alluring in their appearance.

After a period of mass production in Euro mimic form these have now returned to the old fashioned neutral designs or to the Spanish Doubloon reminiscent of high seas naval battles, treasure trove and damsels in flouncy sleeved gowns being fought for or over by alternate brigands and swashbuckling heroes.

However, I find myself drawn more in favour and flavour to the silver foil covered coins now depicted as the infamous 'Pieces of Eight'. The invariably white milk chocolate is right up there in terms of a reason for my preference for silver coinage but I am also seduced by the legend behind the real 'peso de ocho reales'.

This was well explained to me through the BBC radio broadcasts of 'The History of the World in 100 objects' produced in conjunction with the archives of the British Museum.

Up until the discovery by the Spanish of vast reserves of silver during their conquering of Mexico and the native South American countries there was very little of that precious metal to use as a medium of trade and exchange. The production of the Pieces of Eight took place from the 1570's with the ore sourced from the Silver Mountain , or Potosi , formerly in Peru but now in Bolivia and minted there in such quantities to enable it to spread fully around the known world of the time to become a global currency.

By 1600 a single coin could command an equivalent of around fifty pounds of goods and services and, remarkably was accepted just about everywhere in the world.

The human cost of production was excessive so much so that with the depletion or working to death of the indigenous population a huge flow of replacement labour was sourced from the slave trade from Africa.

The output from Potosi provided obvious wealth to the Spanish monarchy for extravagance as an expression of power, expansionism through military strength and importantly a very good line of credit with the money men financiers. The Spanish Empire came thus into direct competition and conflict with the other main and ambitious European powers. Amazingly the Potosi mine remains operational today.

16th and 17th century Spanish influence spread into the Pacific region and Asia and eventually the coins found their way into China with a destabilising effect on the economics of the area. Pieces of Eight have been found over-stamped by nations as their own legal tender and as far apart as Tobermoray in Scotland from an Armada wreck to Australia and over a period of some 400 years.

The catalyst for the global acceptance was the volume of production, billions of coins in number, being likened to the modern day credibilty of Visa or American Express. The downside of abundant money was of course inflation and current day problems were more than evident at that time with great wealth but no goods to provide substance and sustenance when the cash coinage leaked out of the economy.

An empire based on contract deeds and bills of exchange was always destined to fail regardless of the perception of great wealth. The proliference of that chunky silver coin showed that a global economy was possible but would take many more centuries to develop to a level of maturity.

I hesitate, given the global financial turmoils of the last few years or more, to use the word security in any form linked to money. Not all lessons from the past have been taken to heart.

I do however remember not to leave silver foil wrapped chocolate coins in my pocket as that leads to a meltdown.