Brighton Beach as it is normally
I have been so looking forward to this 8 days of R&R with our friends JP and Heather who live in a lovely beach-front house on the very local Brighton beach. They have been here 35 years…and we have spent many happy holidays here with Tommy and Louise, and their boys. Indeed I recuperated here after I broke my hip, and Louise came with me as my minder. Bitter-sweet memories. Continue reading
Here we are on a gloomy night…
I have always loved cricket. I learned to play it at school, but graduated to umpiring and scoring after nearly losing my front teeth to a fumbled catch. As a young publisher of school textbooks in the Caribbean, I decided early on that the perfect icebreaker was cricket, so I set about revising and updating my knowledge. It was the golden era of WIndies cricket and soon I was following Viv Richards, Clive Lloyd, Malcolm Marshall, Gordon Greenidge, Desmond Hayes, Big Bird Garner, Michael Holding et al. round the islands as they blackwashed all the teams in sight. While I was working, you understand.
Subodh Gupta’s Cooking the World – fabulous pots and pans installation – you could even have a meal inside!
From Czechia to Basel to catch the world’s largest Art Fair. Cousins Diego and Christine come for the weekend, and I find them on Friday night, sipping wine with Ross on the banks of the Rhine. Continue reading
The KaiserHaus, where my grandfather Hermann Ungar was born and the most imposing house in the Jewish quarter
We set off early for Boskovice. The drive takes us through gentle undulating hills, with verdant pine forests adorning the hilltops like crowns. Once off the main road, we pass a cart pulled by two handsome palomino horses with a pony trotting alongside and we are in countryside that looks much as I imagine it would have done in my grandfather’s time. Now there are fields of lavender pyrethrum, green wheat and yellow rape, all contrasting with the azure blue of the sky. It reminds me of Ungar’s story The Brothers which describes such a landscape. Continue reading
Bonnie on the Charles Bridge, Prague Castle and St Vitus Cathedral in the background
This was my fifth trip to Prague, but one with a difference. Eight years after discovering the existence of an older half-sister, I am taking her on a journey to discover her heritage. Bonnie has never been to Prague, let alone Boskovice where our family hail from, and she as thrilled as a little girl waiting for her Christmas presents. Continue reading
Brekekekèx-koàx-koáx! Brekekekèx-koàx-koáx! Richard Morse, our polyglot puzzler and gamer supreme, replies to the frogs’ chorus with this Aritsophenean refrain each night as we sit down to supper in our magical villa overlooking the sea at La Londe-les-Maures. Continue reading
Lining up to be judged!
If you were expecting photos of Heidis in dirndls you will be disappointed. In our village of Champery, today marks the 75th anniversary of the annual parade of the most prized local beauties – the cows that frolic in the high Alp all summer. This event takes place just before the lovelies are put out to grass. Continue reading
Man Friday
After a week on the boat we treat ourselves to a few days of pampering at Soneva Fushi. This is a ‘barefoot luxury’ island, with secluded villas adorning its outer edges like a string of pearls, encompassing verdant rainforest, populated by fruit bats, bunnies, a few chickens and white-breasted waterhens which cluck around followed by fluffy tweeting chicks, and poo liberally on the verandahs. This is our third visit; the last time we came was within a few weeks of Louise’s death so it has bittersweet connotations. But we do remember it being a place of beauty and tranquillity. Continue reading
We are missing our diving now we are based back in Europe. So I booked a sneaky two-week holiday in the Maldives, the first week on a live-aboard, and the second in Soneva Fushi, a ‘barefoot luxury’ resort we repair to when our souls and bodies need replenishing. Continue reading
Baselworld! I should have known something was up when my flight was packed and I was as ever squeezed in the back row by BA. I simply refuse to pay extra to book seats and the punishment is banishment to the last row of the plane. Continue reading
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