wanderer, wonderer, wannabe writer
La Casa Del Gato Gordo, Canary Islands, April 4th 2020. Dear Son, Well it’s morning on day 22 of my lockdown. I just had my breakfast. Yesterday afternoon was glorious, the first really warm day where I managed to get up on the roof terrace and soak in the sun for a couple of hours. … More Writing Home 2
La Casa Del Gato Gordo, Canary Islands, March 26th 2020. Dear Son, So this lockdown business, what a fucker isn’t it, I had plans, lots of plans & they’ve all gone tits up. It galls me somewhat that instead of being in India I’m 9244 kilometres away from where I intended to be & am … More Writing Home.
The real boss of the house comes to introduce himself. Cesare, the Cat, a beast of truly epic proportions. … More The House of the Fat Cat
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
“You men have it easy” she said … More Three Wishes
An August evening in Edinburgh & three Englishmen step into a black cab on Princes Street. I pull the door closed behind me with a resounding clunk & ask the cabbie if he can drop us at decent Bar in the Old Town. He cogitates and after a lengthy pause replies wth a single word in an accent as thick as a bowl of lumpy porridge: Aye.
… More Sassenach @ The Festival
I pedal away from the beach, away from the pasty skinned holiday makers from Northern Europe, the temporary migrants in search of vitamin D, past the kiosks and the shops selling knock off sunglasses and gaudy beach towels, past the boutiques selling dresses that will never be worn back home, soon I am on the … More Yannis’ Bar
Corfu saturday night & there’s a party going on in my rooms, I am the host. One solitary Englishman & all the rest Greek. I did not plan this, nor indeed did I even realise it was happening, until that is I woke up at 3.30am on sunday morning to find my entire body covered … More Bloody Karma
As my first full day in Corfu draws to a close my stomach begins to grumble & growl, the monster needs feeding. I’ve heard that there’s a little festival a couple of kilometres along the coastline with food and music so off I head off on my pushbike as the twilight comes, along little country … More Panigyri – The Feast
June 4th – Trump is coming to town, divisive- loathsome-rascist-climate-change-denying-mysoginistic-wanker-shit-house-excuse of a man. You may glean from my words that I am not a great fan. From here on I will just call him 45, this seems rather fitting on a number of levels:- (i) Two digits is all I would give him. (ii) In some … More 45 4.6 with Fried Chicken
