The grave of three men: Jobo, Cabo, Baco. They all look alike. Two could be brothers, the third could be the son of one, or a nephew, or a much younger brother. This youngest man (Cabo) died in 1943 at the age of 23. The 23-year-old man of a different family looks thoughtful and resolute. … More Montenegro Lives
I had all of Saturday to travel from Swansea in the West to Cambridge in the East, so I decided to stop mid-way. A refuge from the fast lane which promised to peel back the centuries. All the way to the sacred oaks of Awsty Wood, the marching feet of Roman legionnaires, and the group … More A Sanctuary
Some hours ago I went for a walk. I put on a podcast about pilgrimage (a subject pertinent to the project I was avoiding) and played a childish game: if I took the long route to the two-shelved mini-library three roads away, I might discover a book that would help. Stories of pilgrims filled my … More Miracles and games
A year ago, I wrote that the curators of the Mass Observation Archive were making their annual appeal for our 12th May diaries. Here we are again, twelve long yet quick months later, and the Project is keen to know how we have fared. Its aim remains to collect glimpses of our lives on one … More 12th May
(A short walk through a Sevenoaks churchyard) Hestor was a wife. She was remembered with love by her husband, after she died in 1802. Her gravestone still stands and her name is still legible, despite the threat of a colony of white spots. Other names are invisible, swept away by the elements. Or have dates … More Memories and Daffodils
Perhaps it started with Sister Laurie at St Joseph’s School in North Battleford, right in the middle of the Canadian prairies. Sister Laurie was petite and neat and the gentlest soul. When I was six and the new girl from the Old World, she was my teacher. She welcomed me into her classroom and nobody … More (Bewitched by) Nuns
In anticipation of later. I’m not a poet, but I am weary, so this is the best I can do. … More Friday Night PX
A love story from Andalucía (adapted from Lorenzo Valla’s 15th century version of the Legend of La Peña de los Enamorados). A young man once served as a slave in the house of a Moorish leader in the Kingdom of Granada. The man’s name was Tello, and he was a Christian soldier who had been … More Tello y Tazgona
I didn’t think I was writing a love story. I didn’t think I was writing a sad story. Nor one with uncomfortable truths. I thought I was writing a sunny story set in a Spanish Sierra, and I started with someone very similar to Elena, the Tortilla Maker. A story intended to be life-affirming and … More A Love Story
They don’t exactly make a gripping read (my waking thoughts on Tuesday, 12th May): Rubbish out. Washing on. What shall we eat today? Should I shop? With a face mask? I check my phone for the news. Face masks are not yet mandatory, but are “advisable in some enclosed spaces.” I want to shop local … More Love Letters and Marmalade
Have Paprika, Will Travel 