Nan 30.12.1918 – 11.01.2018
Only in death is a life story fully known, and in Peg’s own words her’s was long, sometimes bloody hard work, and toward the end a bit boring.
New Year derring-do
Tomorrow we’ll sing auld lang Syne, which isn’t an obvious time to go trail riding around Chichester, but there you go. It could’ve been different, but family got fraught, enough for me to head for the hills.
Getting there
The plan was to fly to India, buy a new Enfield, and ride it back, holding tea parties along the way. But that changed when Rob, the dad of one of Theo’s mates, invited me to the Adventure Travel Film Festival – where I was smitten by motocross. Now an old Suzuki scrambler, that just qualifies as…
Peaks
It was M’s idea to go away, so here we are in the Peak district atop the ridge behind Hope Valley just before the wind blew up and turned us back. We played a lot of pool, in the oh so swish Loosehill youth hostel, and a lot more on the super swish table in…
“Bear Grylls celebrates a masculinity that is useless.” – Grayson Perry
Mr. Grylls’ antics in the wilderness, remind me of Johnny Weissmuller’s Tarzan back in the day.
“One more time with feeling”
The post is titled after Nick Cave’s latest film. In it he talks about how he’s come to realise life can’t be understood as a series of linear narratives, despite all its many beginnings and endings.
Returning to India
An idea is brewing, to once again fly to India, and ride back to the UK, perhaps this time accompanied.
Indian stories don’t end
I recently helped with a show comprising a slapstick version of King Kong performed by The Smallest Theatre in the World, Bhangra drumming and a story about an ordinary child.
Au revoir France
Early morning hours spent waiting for any form of transport are especially hellish, and there’s yet four more to be had here in Calais before the ferry leaves. Time to sing the praises of a 14 year old Mk IV VW Golf, reflect upon a great road trip and… … wonder where next. Namaste
“We are all in the gutter… looking at the stars”
We ate what should have been our end of holiday treat-feast on a park bench in the drizzle, much to the bemusement of passing joggers.
Kings for the day, more like “Down and Out in Paris”
Something about boys 