Category: Travel
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Vicarious road trip joys
I’m nicking our daughter’s road trip experience for a little bit of vicarious joy this morning. Although the driving hours were on the long side, the joy of zipping through the French countryside, the vineyards, Air BnBs, tiny hotels and auberges, a balconied suite in Monaco and an eventual delightful destination on a remote Tuscan…
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I was with Gudrid and Agnar yesterday . . .
It was Read a Book Day on the 6th September, recognised internationally as a day in which we should all curl up with a good book. I was delighted to have timed my completion of The Sea Road for this significant date in the calendar. I’m reading through Margaret Elphinstone’s bookshelf in a chronological order…
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Never too late . . .
A decade ago, though it seems a lifetime hence, we made a return visit to Sicily. Our mission, should we choose to accept it, was to find the final resting place of a daughter of Northumberland, Florence Trevelyan, whose life had intrigued us when we encountered her bust in the public gardens of Taormina. Now…
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Oh we do love to be beside the seaside . . .
Early Monday morning, everyone is struggling to wake up and pack up for the off, after a delightful weekend of fish and chips, pizzas, and then a complete Sunday dinner. Food and drinks have been in copious supply, just like the sunshine. It seems the whole country was filled with sunshine, actually, as the reports…
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The sad sweetness of SORN
Actually, I have another couple of blogs, online spaces where I write about other things. Our travel adventures in Harry Hymer are usually recorded at HarryCarrieAndMe.wordpress.com (the pun is deliberate, but nobody is about to commit HariKari anytime soon!). And I’ve documented my wrestlings with my science fiction novels at BiomeNE47.com. Neither blog is very…
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A walk in the sunshine
We finally made a circuit of the dyke walk that extends through marshland in the Upper Ken, on the border of the Galloway Forest. There we watched a crow/jackdaw/raven dive-bombing a red kite, over and over again. Eventually, it seemed that the red kite agreed to divert its soaring flight away from the black bird’s…
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New horizons: trepidation before possible joy
There are always new horizons, I guess, and new experiences as we age. My good friend Henry reminds me that the ageing process can affect us differently, but as my erstwhile Writers Group colleague and friend Marjorie Anderson noted, the end result is the same. Not to be gloomy or fatalistic, I’m also remembering that…
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Itchy, antsy feet
Our connection for the morning’s ferry was crucial, that day we left North Uist for Harris. We had to dash on up through the Outer Hebrides to Stornoway on Lewis for the second ferry back to the mainland in Ullapool. It was to meet a sad, but not unexpected date for a family funeral. Still,…
Roads to Joy 