Today we bid farewell to Alba. As we rise, early doors and pack up the car, I am overcome with reluctance to leave our beautiful little piece of paradise here in Piedmont. But alas, we have places to go and things to do, and so we say our goodbyes, heading off to our intended destination, and the final stop on this Tour Italia, Genoa. Continue reading “Down and Out in Genoa”
Now I like it hot just as much as the next person. For example, the current pleasant weather we are experiencing across the UK? I very much like this hot. I also like a good cup of hot strong coffee, hot peppery chillies in food, and a hot glowing fire in deepest darkest winter… Continue reading “Some like it hot.”
April came to a close as if it were deepest darkest winter, the weather changing from a subtle spring sunshine, to a ferocious biting cold; bringing with it snow, hail and a dense milky fog.
My morning commutes to work offered a glimpse of the moors above me, their usually colourful and tree-lined foresty hilltops out of sight, masked by this uncustomary meteorological shift. Continue reading “Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes”
I recently agreed to take part in a lifestyle survey about how I spent my time over the course of an entire week, logging my daily activities in half-hourly increments throughout the day. Honestly? it drove me completely frickin’ nuts. Not least of all because the bloody app sent me constant reminders to log my movements, but because this Orwellian style checking up on me was creating massive amounts of anxiety and claustrophobia by counting and recording the moments of my life in such microscopic detail. Continue reading “About: Time”
So it’s not quite 5pm here in Spain and I’m somehow several vino tintos down and have joined an impromptu singing session, despite my companions being several decades my senior, and me unable to converse in their shared tongue.
Let’s rewind a little and see how I ended up in this-really rather glorious-situation. Continue reading “The Golden Age”
As I wait on the platform for the train this morning, which is invariably running late, I look out across the still-inky sky to the rolling purple hills beyond me. I watch Wordsworth’s clouds wandering lonely across them, weaving between the dark spindling trees, casting shadows, and I think about how sometimes we all fail to attend to the beauty that is right in front of us. Continue reading “There is a light that never goes out.”