Getting ready to hunt
This must be my 9th visit to Mana and I never tire of it. Growing up in Tanganyika (yes, that’s what it was called when I was little!), one of my happiest memories is going to Mikumi game park with my Dad, and camping in ancient tents on rickety old canvas beds, with a long drop, canvas basin and no shower! Dad and I would drive around the park, getting up at the crack of dawn and he would make a fire and cook eggs, bacon and fried bread. Heaven. Continue reading
The Dents glowing in the evening sunshine
Still exhausted from Covid and lying on the sofa watching Wimbledon, I haul myself off to meet Ross in Champery after his long walk. Heathrow is busy and security has long queues and we are late taking off as there not enough staff to load the plane. This is only the beginning of broken Britain – the worst is yet to come I fear. I go to Switzerland to try and forget about the state we are in….and to admire the Swiss attention to detail as below! Continue reading
A long-booked holiday with our Swiss family & friends (Diego, Christine, Tim, Annie & Janet) became a parental honeymoon following the marriage of our beloved Tommy to his gorgeous Anna. Can’t start this blog without reference to the great day – and of course some pics. The humanist ceremony took place in a woodland glade at High Billinghurst midfarm in Surrey; the sun shone and the cotton wool clouds scudded across the sky in a light breeze.
In a year where there has been little travel and many health issues I am challenged where best to post and how to write this blog! For most of us it has been a year of great uncertainties and lows, with a few highs. On the whole we don’t share our lows as we maintain our oh-so-very-British stiff upper lip. So here goes – my year in review. Continue reading
Grande Anse Beach
The first time I was in Grenada was shortly after the US invasion, when the lush island was littered with burned-out tanks, bullet-ridden and shelled-out buildings, and people were wary of strangers. Now the murdered premier Maurice Bishop has achieved hero status with the airport named after him, though the reason for his execution was his link with Castro. I have been back several times in between and seen the island in its various stages of development – from only a couple of beach front hotels to some spanking new developments…and more to come. Continue reading
Somehow managing a grimacing smile
After a gruelling day walking to the Col de Cou – 12.6 kms and 4 hr 20 – I decide an easier stroll is required. Ross, basing his choice on Tommy’s recommendation of last year, picks on the scenic Gorges du Dailley which looks fine according to the website. I’ll have words with him when I get home! Continue reading
Looking down from Les Mosettes beyond the Lac Vert towards Morgins. The GR 5 hut hut is in the foreground, just in front of the Lac Vert
The weather has turned glorious at last. We have been making the most of it and going on various favourite walks (more of those on another blog), but we decide to meet up with some old friends from Heinemann days (yes – that old) and to meet in our favourite ski rdv in France, Le Cremailleure. Continue reading
Lockdown life is different for everyone. I’m the first to admit that my cunning plan of going straight from the Maldives to Switzerland was a good one – no quarantine and a remarkably liberal attitude to social gatherings, restaurant, bar and shop openings up until Christmas, when the shutters come down on all but socialising privately with up to six people – and this is really a blessing. Continue reading
7 December 2020
Louise would have been 31 today. Almost ten years since she died. It is simultaneously like yesterday and an aeon ago. This morning – 3 am to be precise due to jetlag – I flipped though her Facebook photos and her joie de vivre, sense of naughtiness and good humour shone out to me. Of course she had her moments – we all do – and I remember when she was about 14 or 15 regularly waiting on the stairs listening for the late night bus to rumble past in the hope that she would be on it…and at some point she would tumble through the front door and I would pretend to be asleep. Continue reading
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