After spending much of one’s life in Carlisle, being unenthusiastic about Monaco might be a challenge. Or might it? First, a disambiguation. Monaco is the name of a principality of less than 500 acres which [more…]
In the cupboard to the left of my desk, sits a large cardboard box filled with old family photo albums. These arrived in my parent’s house in the early 1980s, after the death of my [more…]
(I) It is 5-30am and children come out of the gloom like ghosts in silent procession. They are laid heavy with satchels, wear blouses and shirts which are so white that they hurt your eyes [more…]
Le Train Bleu Last time we teased that we were arriving at a quayside in Ostend to connect with the Istanbul Express as if Graham Greene’s characters in Stamboul Train. My grandparents’ Ford Prefect was [more…]
According to those better able to describe such things than myself, decades ago the crossing to Ostend was one of drenched decks, the smell of steam and oil and of stale Bass from the bar. [more…]
It’s difficult to tell exactly where we are in old Zermatt, pictured below during my grandparent’s 1950s road trip. These days the town is short of public squares given what has to be squeezed onto [more…]
Puffins will be familiar with a truism of the lower orders ducking and diving through the mean streets of Zermatt with a dagger between their teeth looking for a cheap room while the officer class [more…]
29th December – At sea The ‘Phantom Door Banger’ was late this morning. I was up and dressed when ‘its’ door crashed at 07:20. Guess who forgot to put their clock forward? Mind you, having [more…]
We shall continue our trip towards the source of the Matter Vispa, heading south towards the mountain town of Zermatt. However, we shall no longer call it a road trip. The evidence suggests, given a [more…]
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