A Postcard From The Third World
(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…]
(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…]
Kent used to be called “the Garden of England.” Perhaps it still is. The garden itself is still there — a mass of snowy blossom just now; but since I last saw it the great [more…]
If you want to see what a profound and lasting impression the war has left on the face of rural England you should make a point of travelling over that stretch of road that links [more…]
I’ve often heard Puffins lament that they would like to contribute articles to our esteemed website but are too daunted. So, I thought I’d share a few tips to encourage more Puffins to pick up [more…]
I was awakened that morning by the sudden furious ringing and clanging of bells — a sort of wild, insane music, as if some demented Dickensian sexton had been let loose in the belfry. To [more…]
I have had a particularly soft spot in my heart for Nottingham ever since an evening in June, 1940. There were about a thousand of us, dribs and drabs of a British Expeditionary Force, scooped [more…]
From Haddon Hall to Tideswell is only about ten miles. But to get from one to the other you have to travel across some of the bleakest, wildest, most God-forsaken country in England. On these [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…]
Since this journey must begin somewhere, let it begin here in Bakewell with the story of a tart. A Bakewell tart, which, of course — as they are quick to point out — isn’t a [more…]
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