The Confessions of a Rambling Man. Chapter 14

Landing at Fiumicino the first thing my man brain registers – bright fluorescent lights of the airport shopping mall, glitzy designer clothing stores, then the sight of women in heels, the rhythmic clacking of those same heels on polished marble floors – six months spent by the beach in Asia meant that invariably the women … More The Confessions of a Rambling Man. Chapter 14

The Confessions of a Rambling Man Chapter 12

Tim had an unfailing ability to be able to echo locate a party at will, in fact it was a given that were you to be at any decent party on a Saturday night anywhere close to Portobello Road then there you would find Tim. 

Remarkably Tim’s party nose even worked in India, A friend of mine he announced is having his 50th Birthday party down at OM beach, it’s a weekend thing, should be quite good why don’t you come? … More The Confessions of a Rambling Man Chapter 12


I don’t know about you but this Rheumatoid Arthritis business is a bit daunting to say the least, why do the simplest thing have to turn into a saga?
Take for instance getting an X-ray … More X-Ray

Growing Older

My eyes grow weaker with the passing of the years and yet somehow I find  beauty in the smallest of things where once I raced by. The voice that once boomed has grown less insistent, my ears better at listening,  I learnt to recognise the fool & the sage Wise enough now to see them … More Growing Older

Hippy Shit.

Welcome to another thrilling instalment of Martin’s arthritis diaries.  Well it’s been an illuminating week, a visit to the hospital has brought news which I was not expecting, I require a new hip, apparently one of the two that I came with is what is colloquially known in the trade as totally fuc*ed. Also an operation on … More Hippy Shit.


Tuesday morning eight a.m. & I creak the twenty steps to the bathroom for morning ablutions, my stick aids my faltering steps, knees and ankles remind me if I needed the prompt that my rheumatoid arthritis didn’t disappear by magic overnight. Business completed I open the skylight and poke my head out of the window, … More Starling

Plan B Thursday.

The days and the months are racing by and though I feel their passing my arthritis has this habit of subsuming any notion of time turning day after day into a Groundhog Day kind of repetition. My daily task more often than not just trying to cope with the pain in my joints and get … More Plan B Thursday.


I wake on Friday morning at five something, tune in to the BBC World service for the news, there’s something in my head that makes me feel just a little connected to the World I’m in if I listen to it without actually being out there and involved. Unfortunately there have been kidnappings in Nigeria, … More M.A.D.


Saturday night London, what will it hold this City of more than seven million souls on this first evening of reimposed lockdown?  Taxi’s here shouts Sam, I am the last out of the house & into the taxi,  it’s a nine mile journey from a North London house into Town, we are all in masks … More Satnite

Love Locks

The first time I remember seeing padlocks on a bridge was in Paris, on the Pont Des Arts, which straddles the Seine close by Notre Dame. When I got there I was amazed, this bridge was covered in thousands and thousands of padlocks. … More Love Locks


Its only in the last few years that I’ve begun to enjoy poetry, as a youngster it never really resonated with me, but time changes all things even my appreciation of poetry. More than anything else I found that poetry made me think and question and sometimes to imagine that I might even understand just … More Poetry

Favourite things

How my footsteps crunch on fallen snow My joy at a flight out of Heathrow That sound of a train on railroad tracks The tunes I’ve collected on my apple mac Supping tonic and vodka 40 percent proof The clatter of rain on an old tin roof A tattooed lady with a glint in her … More Favourite things

The Window

I’ve sat in this armchair off and on now for almost a year ( just in case you were wondering I do get out of it from time to time – it’s not that I am actually glued to my armchair all the time ), but truth be told it’s normally a good few hours … More The Window