A Few Kind Words

4.30 am. After five days in the mountains we have spent the last seven hours trying to snatch sleep as the train rattles and sways down from the north. Now a lady with a singsong voice and cut-glass diction comes … Continue reading →

It’s one of the great clichés of travel-writing that India is an assault on the senses, but stepping outside the terminal building at Delhi airport, I’m lost for any other way to describe the experience of arriving in the sub-continent. … Continue reading →

I met my first grandchild on Tuesday. She was four-and-a-bit days old. It also happened to be my sixtieth birthday. What a birthday present. It won’t be too long, I expect, before she discovers that she is quisquillosa. This is … Continue reading →

I’m on the train to catch a plane to fly to Spain where the rain, I hope, stays mainly on the plain. We, the Dark Angels, will be in the mountains of Andalucia – where fellow writer John Simmons and … Continue reading →