The cattle dealer (1912) reflects Chagall’s homesickness as well as his adoption of expressionism – everything is floating
There are two unmissable exhibitions on show in Basel right now – Chagall at the Kunstmuseum and Klee at the Beyeler. Last wet weekend, we took in both. Continue reading
Blue-grey tanagers
We leave lovely Ometepe by the ferry, and arrive at the border after an hour or so. Here we say goodbye to Bayardo, our driver for the past 10 days, and lug our bags through the Nicaragua border formalities – all smiles – and into Costa Rica – all grumps. It’s blazing hot and there is no sign of the rental car, which Diego has nobly volunteered to drive (great job Diego!). We mooch around in the scant shade looking in wonderment at the massive pantechnicons which ply the Transamerica Highway from north to south. Their line to cross the border is at least 1-2 kms long. Awful. Continue reading
View from Le Merced bell tower over Granada
The drive from El Jaguar to Léon, Nicaragua’s capital (founded in 1524) until Managua took over, takes us through fields of maize, legumes (the famous red beans for the staple dish of pinto gallo – or rice and peas) and the usual motley array of horses (sometimes with dashing gauchos astride), cows, dogs and pigs. Round here where it is poor, they are all a bit thin, ribs sticking out, apart from the pigs who root around contentedly. Sometimes the animals are tethered, but mostly not. The houses are as poor as ever, with the occasional school, and people going about their daily business. Religion plays a huge part in daily life – and the bigger churches are full of effigies of saints and, of course, the Virgin Mary. Continue reading
Concepcion volcano in Ometepe
Nicaragua and Costa Rica: our holiday destinations this autumn. Central America is terra incognita for us. Luckily we have cousin Christine and her Chilean husband Diego as our tour guides, who are both Spanish-speakers; Tim and Annie, also from Champery, make up the six. On arrival we are greeted by the electric trees (cost $25k) which line the main road from the airport in preparation for the Pan-American Games next year. And a huge portrait of Hugo Chavez! Continue reading
Panorama from the top of the funicular over Lugano
My phone rings on the way to Heathrow. Husband: ‘It’s going to be wet all weekend in Basel, so I thought we’d go to Lugano, where the forecast is fantastic.’ Continue reading
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
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.
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