There we were, out on the ocean, lilting and bouncing like the jig of the same name, quickly moving from high to low. Michael is skipper: deeply tanned face, hoop ring in one ear – a pirate look, without being too cliched about it. We’re in a RIB, a rigid bottom, inflatable around the rim, light … Continue reading Out on the Ocean
Here I am at the seaside, again. Torquay this time. Home to Fawlty Towers, and the inimitable Manuel (Qué?). Maybe we’ve hit on a particularly good weekend but I get the feeling it is often like this in Torquay: hot and sunny with endless blue skies. Eternally tanned pensioners watch knots of youngsters crabbing at … Continue reading The Running Tide
In the town where I grew up, fishing and golf were the two local obsessions. Seldom did they go hand in hand, for the amount of time required to pursue either one with the devotion deserved rarely left enough time to practice the other. This weekend, that town is hosting the British Open golf championship. The media … Continue reading Golf or Fishing?