Yorkshire Coast & Wolds in August
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1952-1970: amid stiff competition the Rother of my boyhood and youth was the filthiest river in South Yorkshire. While the Don was home, below its oil slicks and sludge yellows, to a hardy stickleback or two, the Rother was officially … Read More »
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Brilliant weekend with old and very dear friends near Aberystwyth … [wds id=”34″]
Like Dalat and for similar reasons Hoi An defies easy summary. It has its brash, kitsch and rip-off aspects but also a warmth never far from the surface, together with a kaleidoscopic abundance of contrasting ambience, culture and rhythm. I … Read More »
To the beautiful people of Danang after an afternoon on its streets, in a fish market and at a wonderful cafe where the young woman running things made me coffees between delivering a master class in checquers. [wds id=”28″]
The old woman watering her kitchen garden smiles through blackened teeth. I know about that. In India you see similar, though there it’s not black but blood-red. That’s from pan, the areca nut paste served on betel leaves by a … Read More »
A kilometre from bustling and hustling Hoi An is Can Kim Island, as different as Cambridgeshire fens from Cambridge Town. Two years ago you had to go by boat but could bring a bike to tootle on sleepy lane, dirt track and … Read More »
Poker face made of stone, among friends but all alone. Why do you hide? Say something, say something; anything. Your silence is deafening – give me a sign. James: Say Something So we’re drinking and we’re dancing and the band is really happening and … Read More »
Across the white tiles of the loo it darts for refuge. I could take umbrage – haven’t pissed on a lizard in years – but remind myself its behaviour is procedurally sound in a land that prides itself on eating … Read More »