I am alone in the carriage when the train pulls out of Derry. I take a seat on the left by a window, the side that will skirt the water, give me the best views along this stunning section of line. As the train gains speed along the Foyle estuary three boys tumble into the … Continue reading Off The Rails (I)
There are four of them in the shed. For nine months of the year, they languish, the cobwebs build until May or June when they are taken out, one by one – rickety, arthritic, creaking – and are wheeled around the back lawn like an invalid in rehab. An assessment of what needs done to … Continue reading Eight Wheels
Heat shimmers on the ocean and the ferry pulls away from the land and dolphins dive the length of Lough Ryan only to disappear when we reach the wide-open Irish Sea. Once docked, I drive to the Antrim coast, arriving before dark, dizzy from not having drunk enough water on the journey and I fall … Continue reading July Holidays
Slow travel: there’s a lot to be said for it, taking one’s time to get from there to here so that your head and your heart can keep pace with your body; so that the emotional you and the physical you arrive as one to your destination. My first stop is on the other side … Continue reading Never Been Gone
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
This time last week I didn't even know where Clevedon was, never mind think that in a matter of days I would be wandering along its promenade enjoying the late summer sun. But life takes unexpected turns and catapults you to unforeseen places, which for me, yesterday, was the southern shore of the Severn Estuary … Continue reading Summer’s Parting Sighs
Welcome to the dawn of the summer holidays. C., a teacher, described to me her take on the summer holidays. The end of June, she says, is the equivalent of a Friday evening – it gives you that generous and spacious feeling of a weekend; time stretching ahead, filled with rest, adventure and possibility. Right … Continue reading Dry Your Eyes, Sunday Girl
According to an Ipsos-MORI poll, a large majority of people (79%) think that there is more swearing on television now than ten years ago. And here’s another poll-generated statistic: only 55% of people trust civil servants to tell the truth. I generally skim over such statistics, for, when I read claims about the pulse of … Continue reading Avert Your Eyes
He had a coffee; I had Earl Grey. His was frothy and a bit cold, he told me; mine was too hot, so I blew on it, not that it made a whit of difference. “From England? You’re walking the whole way from the North of England to Santiago?” “Yes. The one in Spain, … Continue reading There’s a Hole in my Bucket
The way through the forest to get to the cottage on Crosby Lake is definitely not a road, but it’s not quite a dirt track either. Whatever you might call it, it has ‘gateway to wilderness’ written all over it in the form of chipmunks scurrying across the path, the hindquarters of deer disappearing into … Continue reading Gratitude
My Edinburgh Press 