All the things I do instead of writing…
The thing that makes travel writing so difficult is that one starts to live in the moment so immediately, and absorbs the reality of a very different environment. I then no longer think to make notes of moments that would be utterly bizarre if they happened in England, but so unremarkable here that it seems... Continue Reading →
In a bored moment, I wondered whether climbing really is all that dangerous - so of course I googled it. As most people know - or certainly most people who've worked with Google AFS - the predictive text that shows up when you type in a search phrase is ranked in order of search frequency,... Continue Reading →
I spent a week in March 2012 on a Jagged Globe Introduction to Winter Mountaineering, based in Ballachulish, near Glencoe in the Western Highlands of Scotland. On the whole, it was a great course and a really good holiday. Unexpectedly though, its major feature was a lot of reflection on the nature of aging, and... Continue Reading →
I don't know what planet Danny Boyle was on when he accepted the screenplay for Sunshine. I have obviously completely forgotten about The Beach, and my dislike of anything involving Alex Garland. In fact, I think I'll try to weave the question of whether people like The Beach into all first dates from now on.... Continue Reading →
Like many people my age, I was very sad to hear of Whitney Houston's death. It seems ridiculous being really upset all week about the premature death of someone you never even knew, but the voice is so familiar, and such a long background soundtrack to people's lives, that you can't help feeling like something... Continue Reading →
The ballerina Marianela Nunez was in Trevor Sorbie this morning, having her nails done. First, I saw a bright pink trainer walk past me; it barely seemed to touch the ground, moving along on springs, rather like people do in Nike ads. The way she walked, and her absolutely emaciated frame, made it very obvious she... Continue Reading →
Another night in the giant multiplex at Westfield, watching Sherlock Holmes. In the first few frames of the movie, I see that familiar gothic typeface, known in Germany as Frakturschrift, and my heart sinks. The scene is Strasbourg in 1891, and the German inscription says something like "1. Jubiläum Elsaß-Lothringen" - which means "first anniversary... Continue Reading →
I don't suppose I'm that close to American politics - not living there and all. An American boyfriend of mine got really irritated with me for expressing my views on the absolute greatness of Clinton, even in 2001. "You don't know anything about it", he said, but was pretty vague about what exactly I didn't... Continue Reading →
Friday night came around again, and once again I was busy trying to clear out my inbox, in an effort to attain the elusive "strategic" Monday morning. This is the as yet unfulfilled vision of having time to think about process structures, and figure out a cohesive plan, rather than the headless rush I'm in... Continue Reading →
It's not been a great week for my sole new year's resolution. I had resolved to spend more time with my friends, whom I increasingly miss in the melee of my 12 hour working days, but of course a "quick" 6 pm meeting with a senior manager ran on until 6.50, and I was supposed... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 