Doing the best that I can, at writing, running and living
I’m sitting down with a nice glass of our Biddenden wine, that we'd bought in Kent, and watching last night’s Celebrity Traitors. My calves are a bit sore because I’ve exercised today for the first proper time since Friday last. Before today I was seriously contemplating getting the woodbines that it sounded like I’d been… Continue reading Coughing My Guts Out, and Awards
Coming back home a week after the new year began has slightly discombobulated me. Of course, as the Gregorian calendar has been adopted by/forced upon the whole world, the new year happened at the same time in Mumbai, give or take a few hours. But I couldn’t just begin a new regime in the middle… Continue reading A Late New Year
All the neighbourhood Parkruns are cancelled. Anne and I are hunkered down in our living room and I’m watching the rowan tree outside wave its arms around like Kate Bush in Wuthering Heights. There’s no moorland here but it is certainly wild, and I can hear the gusts groaning inside the chimney as Storm Darragh… Continue reading HRV and Club Christmas Dos
I am having swimming lessons. I had my first one on Halloween. I was hoping that I’d be clear of the house before the hordes of ghouls and imps came knocking but they’d come and cleaned us out of our thirty-six mini packs of Skittles before I’d even got my cossie in the bag. I… Continue reading Swimming
It was a day that didn’t quite all go to plan. We hadn’t been to Stratford-upon-Avon in a while with one thing or another. So, we were looking forward to rocking up to our usual stay at the Premier Inn in town for a new performance of Othello at the RSC theatre. The hotel had… Continue reading Stratford-Upon-Avon: Othello
I immediately wondered if I was ingesting a gazillion microbes alongside the ancient waters pouring out of the lion’s mouth at St Ann’s Well because it was peculiarly warm. But it tasted pleasant, and I stored some in my water bottle for later hoping the reported healing properties might do a little something for my… Continue reading Buxton: Dr Louise Newson
My sandals send echoes down the empty hallway. The white, sterile walls and the muzak pressing into my ears, make me feel like I’m walking into that George A. Romero zombie movie, ‘Dawn of the Dead’. I’m not. I’ve just stepped out of the lift into the Pyramids Shopping Centre in Birkenhead. We just don’t… Continue reading Walking Boots
Roundabouts. Specifically, the Apex Corner roundabout in Mill Hill. Every single exit on this chaotic catherine wheel is a major thoroughfare of northwest London, so close as it is to the motorway. As week-long interlopers of the metropolis, we’re not used to the frequent honking horns as cars swing around the circle, indicating (or not)… Continue reading Dog Sitting in London
I finally saw the kite on Sunday – I have decided it’s the same one that has been popping up in the sky for Angela and Anne to gawp at each day, as we always see it around five miles out from Hay. Its silhouetted shape considerately soared above the car’s right side this time… Continue reading Hay Festival – Part Three
Obviously, because we were here on a Saturday, I looked for the nearest Parkrun. ‘There’s one in Hay-on-Wye’ itself! You two can have a pootle around the town while I go run.’ Angela, our friend and instigator of this trip, did not look as excited as me, about leaving the house at 8.20am on her… Continue reading Hay Festival 2024 – Part Two
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