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.
The clips are out! I am on one crutch! I can walk to the shops! I have been to the cinema! I have turned the corner… Continue reading
Re-blogging this so I dont have to write this twice…the latest leg (haha) of my journey to wellbeing!)
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
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. 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