Three days of solitude – the first time in nearly sixteen years that I’ve been left at home all on my own. It’s quiet. It’s still. I have space. And time … to do whatever I want. So I clean the house from top to bottom in a fast-paced frenzy – tidying, scrubbing, hoovering, shining the … More A Crude Attempt at Solitude
Our guide shakes our hands, and introduces himself with a smile. His name is Mohamad, and he is from Syria. He doesn’t disclose his surname, and when I ask if I can take photos of the tour he is about to give, he says, “Of course, but please none of me.” Mohamad is here to show … More Mohamad’s Berlin
You could spend all day here, but we have just one hour. A stolen hour. No. 4 should be at school, but technically he’s unwell. We reckon a spell at Riverhill Himalayan Gardens might work wonders (for us both). As ever, it does. Today we find dens designed by experts, with bluebells for decorations. And a coppiced chestnut spiral by Tim Norris to … More A Stolen Hour at Riverhill
Have Paprika, Will Travel 