All the things I do instead of writing…
I often feel as if, with all the time I spend away from my family, my life revolves around planning holidays with them. Little islands in the hideous swirling maelstrom of tides of fortune that my working life feels like. Our whole family unit is built on the hope of adventure, of some vague idea... Continue Reading →
I have a backlog of posts describing the best holiday spots for family climbing (brief recap: Fontainebleau, Frankenjura, Costa Blanca, Peaks, Corsica), but like many other things, these potential gems of insight are stymied by their author's lack of application and pesky work commitments. So instead, here is a brief sojourn through what it means... Continue Reading →
My father died on the 17th June, 2017. He probably would have quite liked that, a palindromic date. He died in Berlin, on the commemoration day of a riot against communist rule in 1953. It's the sort of date people like to choose for weddings. He will be buried on the 7th July, which also... Continue Reading →
As ever, when anything changes in my life, I descend into introspection. For no particular reason, I start to find my gilded existence tragic, and turn into a navel-gazing drama queen, nervously necking champagne at a wedding and sloping off home in tears because they’re playing Oasis and I have just drunkenly stepped on my own... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 