Day Twenty-six and Twenty-seven: Two days. Two different shards. And just because I can, a shard taken from a new angle up Hampstead way. Outta control! Temperature: Groggy Greyscale: Three shards of grey. In E L James’s words: Variety is the spice of life. The more variety, the more the spiciness. In fact, fifty spices (I feel a brand extension […]

Pop songs and celebrities have cheapened the way we forgive. Like love, forgiveness is easily made, almost without care it seems. “I forgave my ex.” “Forgive and forget.” “The power of forgiveness.” Everyone’s doing it – but do we really understand what it means? And do we ever ask ourselves why we should? After Before may […]

I don’t know why I’m celebrating 100 entries. If it involves a glass of Chardonnay then I’m in. Or Dom Perignon. Now that’s a celebration. Day Twenty-five: Early rise due to work. Temperature: Warm, sultry and slightly uncomfortable, has anyone slept properly this week? Greyscale: Back to being proper grey. In E L James’s words: Look at me! I’ve got […]

Day Twenty-four: Tis a warm one, so you’ve been warned! 30c. Don’t go outside. You might faint! You might die! Temperature: In some places like India, Southern USA and Egypt – in fact, in too many places to mention here – 30c is seen as a blessed relief. Greyscale: Glistening, sharp, watery-eyed newsreader grey. In E L James’s words: Babe, […]

La Oca. You think it would mean The Chicken. But no. When I ask the waiter he says, “Goose – can’t you tell by the image?” I want to say, Where’s goose on the menu? But that’s about the only crazy thing regarding La Oca. Otherwise, everything is satisfyingly straightforward. I can claim one more reason why […]

Sitges. Home of the free pour. Can someone – please, anyone! – remind me of this for next time? The summer retreat of Picasso, Sitges has dimensions beyond its beach and bars. An impossibly idyllic old town struts out onto a headland, a church romantically at its stern as if put there for the photographs, and a meander […]

Clive James was on the box last night. Charmingly witty with his usual enthusiasm for word-play, I find it hard to believe he has leukaemia even though his face is drawn from it. Recently, he mentioned that he is too ill to travel back to his homeland, and it seems underneath the wit is a forlornness contemplating mortality. […]