I first travelled to Asia, from Britain, in 1973. I hitch-hiked across Europe, then took a ferry, trains and buses to Nepal. It was a long way. One miserable January afternoon, my mum dropped me off at the top of Blackheath Hill to hitch to Dover and catch the ferry to Ostend in Belgium. I …
I’ve lost my voice; it must be all the shouting for the Canadian girls in the soccer Olympic semi-finals and against the ref’s questionable calls. It was an exciting, tension-filled night (and, as a bonus, in one of the best stadia in the UK, Old Trafford, without having to watch Manchester United) and the girls …
My mother’s eightieth birthday, celebrated at the Ashburnham Arms: a short stagger from the house where I spent my teenage years (and where my mum still lives). Happy Birthday, Mum!
…almost built a gate to fill in the gap in the fence I built last year. If it doesn’t rain, we’ll have a gate tomorrow.