Covid tours to Sicily: Part 2
Covid tours to Sicily: Part 1
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 farm in Surrey; the sun shone and the cotton wool clouds scudded across the sky in a light breeze.
The highs and lows of 2021
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
Gorgeous Grenada – isle of spices and smiles
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
Climbing Les Gorges du Dailley – not for the faint-hearted
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
Les Crosets to Village des Chèvres for lunch and back – on foot (mostly)
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
Girls just wanna have fun – in Aldeburgh
A travelogue has not been possible for obvious reasons – but this week the girls manage an escape!
While two of our husbands (Ross and John Pooler) are walking the Cape Wrath Trail, with David Mitchell – the toughest walk in Britain, 380 kms in 17 days, from Fort William to the aforesaid-mentioned Cape Wrath – the two grass widows plan a trip to the seaside, with a fellow Cambridge girl. Continue reading
Remembering Louise – ten years on
Louise as I like to remember her, with her beloved Pom Pom and hula-hoop gear (holes in tights), in her kitchen at Evering Rd
Tuesday 2 March should have been just another day. Except that it isn’t. It is ten years exactly since we received the terrible news that Louise was dead.
On lockdown, publishing and green shoots
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
Remembering Louise in Moofushi, Maldives
Storm clouds gather
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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