Category Archives: Travel

Waking up

Last year at the Edinburgh International Book Festival I chaired Michael Ondaatje as he talked about his latest novel, The Cat’s Table, a fictionalised account of the journey he had made as an 11-year-old in a passenger liner, from Ceylon … Continue reading

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Falling in love

‘Grecia no!’ A border policemen lifts his chin in that peculiarly dismissive way the Greeks have of signifying a negative – in this case that there is something wrong with the bewildered Italian backpacker’s passport and he’s not going to be … Continue reading

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On the road

In 1967, my last year at school, I discovered that there was a bursary for classicists to travel to Greece. It was one of those things that no one told you about but I got wind of it somehow and … Continue reading

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Train of thought

While waiting for the train this morning I was speaking to a recently retired neighbour who now lives most of the year on the Greek island of Skiathos. ‘They’re really in a bind now,’ he said. ‘I know,’ I said. … Continue reading

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Tongue-tied

It’s unpleasant to feel a language slipping from one’s grasp. There was a time when I was a confident French speaker. I was taught it very well at an early age by an inspired teacher who showed us large pictures of … Continue reading

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La Maison du Kilt

Here’s a good air travel story, for a change. My wife and I are currently en route for a wedding in Corsica. The bride’s parents are my wife’s oldest friends, Hughes and Caroline. He’s French, she’s English and they live … Continue reading

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Constant craving

I was talking to my eldest daughter about last week’s post and my South American travels. The conversation moved on to the 60s and 70s in general, and the music in particular. Sophie is 31 and the mother of my … Continue reading

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Halfway to heaven

Watching the YouTube film of my Latin American trip opened the floodgates again. There are still so many moments that remain clearly imprinted on my memory, almost forty years later: sailing to the Galapagos Islands on a cargo steamer, driving … Continue reading

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Close encounter

In December 1972 I quit my job at Hatchards bookshop in Piccadilly and flew to Argentina with my girlfriend. There we met up with 30 other travellers of all nationalities and stripes who had signed up for a trip with … Continue reading

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Breaking up is hard to do

I’ve been dismembering one of my books, painstakingly taking it apart, page by page, so that each comes away from the glue of the spine cleanly, a perfect rectangle. It’s a strange, not entirely comfortable, feeling. The book in question … Continue reading

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