Snow run

First snow run of the season. Freezing low mist merges with the white-flecked ground. I skid down a mud-slush path, then skate to the side in search of firmer footing. There is none. It’s a hop, skip and slide run. Only a few well-wrapped walkers and some skittish deer are out, plus a father and … More Snow run

A Serious Case of Escapism

In an attempt to take my life a little more seriously than I habitually do, I make coffee, then grab a pen and a whimsically-covered notebook. I plonk random pieces of fruit next to me for colour and inspiration, and read snippets of this fabulously escapist and informative book (another Oxfam bookshop gem). Funny and … More A Serious Case of Escapism

Sunset slows the day

I am rushing along a featureless fast road rising high above the London orbital, my mind muddled by a million different mundanities. I am half-running, half-walking, needing to be somewhere else, blindly ignoring the faceless cars swiping too close and too fast. Then I look over my left shoulder, primed by I don’t know what. … More Sunset slows the day

Meeting Monday

I complain about the Monday gloom, from the warmth of my kitchen window. So dank, so dark, so uninviting out there. So I go out to meet it. It’s mild. I don’t need gloves, but a gust of wind tugs back my hood and I let it go. The rain has stopped. Branches reach above … More Meeting Monday

A Walk in the Park

Cold, bright and still. It was all about light, shadows and textures at Knole today. A brisk run for me and a walk in the park for the deer.  

Tapeando in El Tubo

Zaragoza’s tapas quarter is small and perfectly formed in a web of old streets called “El Tubo“. The narrow lanes of Calle de los Estébanes and Calle de la Libertad comprise its core, with bar after bar offering gastronomic delights, and then more spin off into the neighbouring streets. Its a fine way to follow the Spanish … More Tapeando in El Tubo

Bodegas Almau

In the heart of El Tubo de Zaragoza is a small place with a big reputation. Its name is Bodegas Almau. Old and atmospheric (it’s been here since 1870), bottles and barrels adorn its yellow walls. Groups of friends crowd the floor, and the few tables are crammed.  Squeeze in at the bar to order … More Bodegas Almau

Solo in Zaragoza

My husband sent me to Zaragoza. He insisted – said he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. I wondered what I had done wrong, or had I done something right? “A break”, he offered with gentle conviction. “You can think, you can write – just get away. Take two nights.” “But …” I had a … More Solo in Zaragoza