|
Have you missed Namibian, protagonist extraordinaire of 2009/10? No, neither have I. Were you wondering if he’d expired? Ooh, don’t be silly: obviously I’d have blogged his funeral. In fact, knowing my luck, I’d be one of the seventy-two pallbearers buckling beneath the weight of his coffin. He is, as far as I can...
They’re a prickly lot, the Italians – like human fumaroles, their lava dormant until the opportunity of a dispute. I mean, take a piffling molehill of an issue, add two Italians and a pinch of balmy weather, and watch the sparks fly. Shaken fists and waspish expressions soon crescendo through beetling eyebrows, unquenchable scuttling...
How long have you got? If you’ve dropped by for only thirty seconds or so, shirking Excel spreadsheets or whatever it is that people who work for a living do at desks, then you may as well biff off again and come back later. This is a guest blog of epic proportions. Coming in...
It tasted a little like sawdust. I coughed, liberally doused my feijoada in black bean sauce and managed another mouthful. The second one was better – in fact, mixed up with some juice, the pork meat, white rice, orange and flour tasted quite delicious. ‘This dish comes from the slaves,’ said my friend Barbara,...
Do you know what my younger brother said one Christmas? I’ll tell you. It was back in my diving days when emerging from a dry suit in a tuxedo seemed to me the epitome of cool. Logbooks, snorkels and PADI paraphernalia adorned every nook and cranny. When I’d unwrapped my present from my brother...
We’ve had some monstrous drives on this Prince Tour, you know. One of them – Dublin to Oslo – required five drivers to get the truck there without stopping. Now, I never know whether this sort of information is as dull as dishwater and you’d rather I shut up. Or mildly fascinating because I’m...
‘Where does Bus 16 go?’ asked the bus driver, nonchalantly munching an apple-core. The route, admittedly, was not one of his, but I was hoping for a more reassuring response from a staff member. Inside Perth Bus Station, two adjacent offices offered conflicting information, both encouraging me to secure a timetable from the other....
Ever wondered how I got into rock and roll? Check out my latest article, published today.
“What goodness Zesta?” asks my perfectly-postured waiter. He beams, almost imperceptibly shakes his head, and hovers unnecessarily at my breakfast table. Beneath a high-ceilinged veranda, the conversation has reached a stalemate. A light breeze blows as I sip the finest cup of tea I’ve tasted so far in Sri Lanka, and I look at...
“The train officially leaves at 10.30 a.m., but it will be late.” Nimal, the manager of Wathsala River View Inn in Dalhousie, beams knowledgeably. “It is always late,” he adds. In the background, Adam’s Peak, an important pilgrimage site, looms imposingly at 7,360 feet. The air is clear and tranquil this morning, punctuated only...
