Farewell to 2018 and best wishes for 2019

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Wishing you all the very best.

Normal service will be resumed in a couple of days.

"Age cannot wither her"

The extraordinary Antony and Cleopatra was beamed from the National Theatre into Letchworth's  Broadway Cinema, which is fast becoming one of my favourite venues.

    The performance was simply extraordinary. Antony and Cleopatra is a lengthy play with a convoluted plot but this production managed to keep the pace going with sublime acting, innovative staging and simply beautiful costumes.
     Ralph Fiennes has always been a favourite actor - not least for his portrayal of the hideous SS officer Arnon Goth in Schindler's List - but his Antony was dwarfed by the stunning Sophie Okonedo's Cleopatra. She has more than proved her own acting credentials in the past (especially in Hotel Rwanda) but she brought Cleopatra to life as a real, intelligent and powerful woman.
     Okonedo stole the show and it was all the women who ruled this stage while the men blew hot and cold, fought and argued. With Cleopatra as a role model, both Charmian (Gloria Obianyo) and Ira (Georgia Landers) are equally strong Egyptian women, while the Roman Agrippa (Katy Stephens) and Octavia (Hannah Morrish) bring their own sense of more controlled power.
     Shakespeare, of course, creates the roles that allow these women to exert their power. Even the somewhat unexpected but touchingly brief conversation between Antony's Roman wife (Octavia) and Egyptian lover (Cleopatra) hinted at a mutual respect, despite their obvious differences.
     And it is those evident differences that made this production so extraordinary. Antithesis abounds - Egypt/Rome, men/women, land/sea, love/hate - and those polar opposites kept the audience engrossed. There was an audible collective gasp when Eros (Fisayo Akinade) approached Antony to help him die and, instead, suddenly turned the knife on himself. Moments like that are a gift from Shakespeare but take precise timing and staging, which the National team delivered.
     Cleopatra remains an icon and for all the right reasons.

Setting goals - in business and personal life

December has always been my month for goal-setting.
     Just as I set up my week on the previous Friday, I've always liked having a path through the year before everything stops for Christmas.
     This year is no different - I've had some highs and lows that are influencing my plans now to ensure a great 2019. Looking back, there are things I would do differently, but I find myself in a pretty good place. My health is better today than it's been for five years - I still have to be careful what I eat, but I'm getting stronger by the day and my stomach tumours are fading into the dim and distant past.
     Family and friends - human ones and the beasts who allow me to tend to their every need at home - seem to be thriving and for that I'm grateful.
     My business is doing well and I'm enjoying working with my clients. I'm always on the look-out for new and exciting opportunities and that's where some of my 2019 focus will be, alongside staying on top of my current projects.
     So, with less than three weeks to go until Christmas, I'll be fine-tuning my goal-setting so that I'm ready for whatever the coming months have to offer.

Camilla George - 'The People Could Fly'

So much to love about the latest release from saxist Camilla George.
    Read my review here.

Taking responsibility is never easy

My beautiful dog - Looby Loo - was sadly taken ill at the end of October and we had to make the terrible decision to put her to sleep on 7 November. It was a very short illness and she was out walking in the fields for a few days in the middle. We still miss her every day.

Now, in a surprise turn of events, we have rehomed a puppy called Zach. He's a border collie/Labrador cross and is a delight. We love having him in our home and we also know that also brings the same responsibility of long-term care.

We Will Remember Them - A Nation's Thank You

On 11 November 1918, the guns of World War One fell silent and to commemorate the centenary on a sunny autumn morning, I was part of The People's Parade, from the Mall to the Cenotaph.

Along the way, I fell in with these lovely people. We all had a story to tell of relatives who had fallen in the Great War. We shared those stories while waiting for 11am to arrive.

The service itself was sombre and melancholy, and we all queued up to file in silence past the rows and rows of wreaths, remembering individuals and teams of people who had been lost to war. The sunshine was both warming and in stark contrast to some of the conditions that soldiers have fought and died in.

We will remember them.



Wilfred Owen - still being read after a century

4 November 2018 marked the centenary of the death of poet Wilfred Owen. A new film about his life and death - The Burying Party - was screened at Genesis in London's East End to mark the day.

    I was in illustrious company, including most of the cast and crew of this remarkable film, and Kenneth Branagh. Despite a technical hitch in the middle, this was a subdued audience for a stunning film that I certainly need to rewatch.

    The film traces the last months of Owen's life - his meeting with Siegfried Sassoon and others who ultimately helped make him the poet he became. Without Sassoon, it is unlikely that his poetry would have been collected, published and championed. The film shows their relationship - as much as can be assumed from the letters and poetry they both left behind. Sassoon was one of the first to recognise the genius behind Owen's work: the work that was just beginning to be read more widely when he was killed in combat just one week before the end of World War One.

    What the director of The Burying Party achieves effortlessly is blurring the lines between surmise and reality - many of the lines are taken directly from Owen and Sassoon's writings.

    All in all, this is a glowing tribute to both men.

The importance of sleeping - and dreaming

I was fortunate enough to spot online by chance - and then book - a retreat in the heart of London.

This was one of my mementoes from an extraordinary day.

The retreat took place in  a hotel just a few minutes' walk from London Bridge station. It was easy to get to and such a joy from start to finish.

Sessions on the day included discussions on sleep, diet and general wellbeing. The presenters were Wajeeha Amin and Dr Fairoz Miller. Between them, they explored the issues of health and wellbeing in a scientific, insightful way. The other participants on the day were equally positive and helpful - all in all, it was an intensely personal experience that I hope to repeat in the not-too-distant future.

Meanwhile, this test-tube sits in front of me on my desk. Its shape reflects the scientific knowledge of the day, while the label reminds me of the value of dreaming.

Paying respects to family and heroes

The grave of Wilfred Owen, Ors.

My ambition for October this year was to visit the battlefields of Belgium and northern France. I wanted to take my mother and father to visit the graves of my Great Uncle Tom Robinson, Great Great Uncle Fred Robinson and the poet Wilfred Owen.

In the end, it was a very moving experience, that included visits to cemeteries, the Menin Gate, Ypres' new In Flanders Fields museum and a set of trenches which are almost as if they were vacated yesterday.

The whole trip was eerie and rewarding and I was pleased to be able to help my parents pay their respects, too.

A wet and muddy visit to trenches just outside Ypres.

Mum and Dad at the graveside of my Great Uncle Tom.

Wayne Shorter - 'Emanon'

My latest blog for KindofJazz.

It was 35 years ago today

This poster adorns the wall of my office. It was rolled up in a tube for 34 years, but now it's in pride of place.
    This was the world premiere of The Style Council live in 1983. The tour began in Zurich and went around several of Europe's largest cities.
    My role as sax player was a tiny one, but we went on to record the sublime Café Bleu, which was largely slated at the time.
    Little did I know that I'd still be looking back on that time with fondness, some three decades later.

'Not About Heroes' - a century since the end of the war to end all wars

Everyone should read the poetry of Wilfred Owen. His war poems should be required reading for every politician before they are elected.

The current touring production of Stephen Macdonald's magnificent play Not About Heroes is a moving and deeply emotional portrayal of the relationship between Owen and fellow war poet and campaigner Siegfried Sassoon.

There was one moment - as Sassoon (Daniel Llewellyn Williams) sweeps a pile of poems and letters off his desk and onto the stage - when you could hear a pin drop in Letchworth's Broadway Theatre. It was one of those pieces of physical action that is a metaphor for the pointless destruction of life that is at the heart of the play. And, indeed, at the heart of both Sassoon and Owen's poetry.

Owen himself (played brilliantly by Owain Gwynn) is a man driven by the need to experience war in order to tell of its brutality. The entire poem slips between poetry and letters, with the relationship between the men themselves depicted in their own words.

We are approaching the centenary of Owen's death a year after he was released from Craiglockhart War Hospital and a week before the end of the war. It's fitting that Not About Heroes is touring the country now, and I suspect the performance in London on 4 November will be a particularly difficult one for the two actors.

A pure woman and a flawed author

Telling the story of a stage production of Tess of the d’Urbervilles and Thomas Hardy’s friendship  with its leading lady, the stage play A Pure Woman is a brilliant evocation of the era and the writer.

    Throughout the play, Hardy is writing poetry, some of it love poems to his friend or mistress, a young woman six decades his junior and half the age of his second wife. The moment Florence Hardy discovers these poems on her husband’s desk is heartbreaking. There’s no evidence that the affair was anything more than inappropriate infatuation on Hardy’s part, but even the suspicion of it is sad.
    The three actors told the story beautifully, shedding light on the man who created one of English literature’s finest novels.
    Flawed authors are often as interesting as flawed characters. Tess’s flaws are largely imposed on her by others’ actions or inactions - Joan Durbeyfield has a lot to answer for, in failing to prepare her daughter for the potentially disastrous attentions of men like Alec d’Urberville. That doesn’t mean they’re any less tragic.
    Watching an elderly man (the actor was significantly younger than Hardy’s 84 years) pursue a young woman whose only intention is to follow her dreams on stage was also somewhat tragic, although with very different results.

A new weekend read

The newly redesigned Guardian Weekly has become my weekend reading material. Somehow, being a magazine format makes the words and photographs work better, especially in my down-time.

    There's always been the right balance of brief articles that allow the reader to catch up on the previous week's events and opinions, together with longer features bringing the in-depth analysis done so well in both the Guardian and Observer.
    Even when they're small - like the faces on page 7 of former Interpol chief Meng Hongwei and Nobel prize winners Denis Mukwege and Nadia Murad - the photographs are of the same high standard one has come to expect from the Guardian stable. Writ large, they're even better. The AP shot of Dewayne Johnson on page 24 shows the character of the man, etched into every painful line of the man whose cancer has been proved to be caused by Monsanto products.
    I've rediscovered the Guardian Weekly this week and I'm glad I have. My subscription is in the post.

A tale of two libraries

I spent most of Thursday afternoon and evening in two of London's finest libraries.
Firstly, at the British Library, where I wrote for a couple of hours while enjoying delicious peppermint tea.

Then, I went to an event at the London Library in St James'. A very different environment for a social event as part of my membership of the Society of Authors. It was a delight to meet several other writers and an illustrator.

The surroundings in both libraries are conducive to writing and when I am bored of my various writing haunts in Hitchin, I know where to head.

A beautiful, tactile new skill

You're never too late to learn a new skill. This is proof that I'm making progress in learning chess for the first time.

After just a few days, I won a game!

That was starting from scratch, with some online learning at the weekend, before I bought my own (child's) chess set.

This is one of the most beautiful and tactile items I've ever owned.

Now I've started learning online and with the set in front of me. It's amazing how quickly you can learn the fundamental rules of the game, especially with the help of an online friend.

When I won this game, I could not have been happier. Chess is something I'll now be practising - sometimes online and most often in real life.

Friends old and new - knowing when to listen

Life is all about words and music - for me, anyway. When that is balanced with family and friends, that's a recipe for a perfect existence that goes beyond simply existing.

A couple of my old friends have recently been involved in creating a stunning piece of art - literally and figuratively. If you're interested, you can watch it here.

Listen to the lyrics - Weller has always been able to craft a great line and I love that he's done this one in collaboration. He's a generous musician, allowing others to contribute when they have something interesting to say.

It never ceases to amaze me how creative people can be with 12 notes, 26 letters or just a few colours. There's always something new.

I was also blown away last night by sax player Jon Shenoy and his latest ensemble, Draw by Four in Hitchin's Club85. He makes playing sax look much more effortless than I've ever found it, but that's because he's worked hard at it.

Jon Shenoy's Draw by Four at Club85

Dynamics and silence have always seemed some of the most important elements of music and both the video and the gig reminded me of that. Knowing when to be quiet and when to say less is probably a lesson most of us could use in more than music.

I enjoyed the gig last night with friends: and they all knew when to be quiet and just listen.

How natural is natural?

The adjective 'natural' is used with wild abandon to describe anything which once came from nature. The dictionary definition includes the distinction that it is not made or caused by humankind and yet our influence on the world means that little can properly be classed natural in those terms.

For anyone attempting to live a more clean lifestyle, this is a major dilemma, particularly when considering choices in food, cosmetics and household products.

In the heart of Hitchin, beside the resolutely-closed Hitchin Museum (just a few metres from the newly-opened North Herts Museum, which has been so badly managed that it doesn't even have a proper entrance), there lies the William Ransom Physic Garden. It's a beautiful spot, even in the closing days of September.

William Ransom began selling essential oils in Hitchin in 1846 and the business is still going today, albeit owned by a major pharmaceutical operation. His garden of aromatic plants is a fragrant reminder of the man's legacy, but his influence spreads across the town, with a local school named after him and the ever-growing Hitchin Lavender, which brings visitors to the town throughout the summer.

Even in early September, there's lavender to be collected

Hitchin Lavender is an off-shoot of the once-thriving local lavender industry, which dates back even further than William Ransom. Now we have a field of lavender that brightens the skyline from spring through to September, together with a tea room and museum. Collecting lavender from a field, bringing it home and enjoying its scent for months to come is probably as close to natural as most of us can hope to come.

It's heartening to see so many major businesses embracing sustainability and they're listening to consumers, who are searching for the natural. William Ransom's garden is a beautiful reminder of the natural that is around us all the time.

Lunch in historic Horsted Place

A family celebration took place this weekend at the striking Horsted Place. Previously a private home, this is what can only be described as a mansion - a Victorian Gothic building where HM the Queen and HRH Prince Philip were regular guests.

None of my family is quite so grand, but the hotel itself is certainly imposing. It sits with a quiet grace close to Uckfield in the countryside south of London and close to Brighton. On the first day of autumn, the grounds were a little disappointing, as the rain cleared and the sun appeared, but I should imagine at the height of summer it's just beautiful.

Sci-Fi for the music fan

I thoroughly enjoyed hearing Science Fiction themes played by the London Concert Orchestra at the Royal Festival Hall. I've never been a massive fan of the genre, but there's no denying the beauty of some of the music involved.

The LCO did a fantastic job with music from Strauss to Elfman, with lasers and pyrotechnics to add spice to the mix. The brass and wind sections throughout performed beautifully and it was good to hear piccolo, bass clarinet and contra bassoon used to great effect.

What a summer! The last day heralds autumn

As the sun can barely put in an appearance through the clouds on the last day of summer, it's a time to reflect and to look forward to autumn.

Although not always well enough to always do everything I wanted through the summer months, I'm feeling a lot better at the end rather than the beginning of the season. Long may it continue!

I always love autumn as it eases into winter, possibly because a January birthday makes the run-up to Christmas even more enjoyable. Age is just a number and I'm glad to be still adding to that number.

Today may be grey, but crunching through the early autumn leaves while out walking Looby Loo brings joy to my soul.

Ten questions for Madeleine Peyroux

They say "Never meet your heroes", but I enjoyed meeting one of mine. Madeleine Peyroux was an absolute delight and we ran out of time SO fast!
    I wrote a blog for Kind of Jazz as a result.

Racism in early modern London and today

There's something deeply unsettling about the racism in Shakespeare's Othello. It is, however, probably as much a part of life in London today as it was in early modern times when Shakespeare chose to include it in the play.

I was fortunate in being able to take 16 young people from Stevenage to Shakespeare's Globe last night. 13 of them had never heard of the play and knew nothing of the story. Three of them have studied it in some detail and had a very different response.

For the 13 new to it, Othello was at first confusing. Once they'd worked out who everyone was - including a stunning Iago from Mark Rylance - they engaged completely. They were shocked by the racism and saddened by the tragedy itself.

An added bonus was fellow audience member Jeremy Corbyn, whose hand I managed to shake briefly before the play began.

An interview with a view

I was delighted to be invited to interview one of my heroes this week.


And this was the view as I waited for her to join me on the sofa at The Heights, just off Oxford Circus.


The following interview will form a blog in due course, but I did spent all my waiting time trying to work out which building was where.

On setting a target - and hitting it

I have spent the last five weeks aiming to complete my first novel (which has been on the back burner for the last ten years) by the end of August.

There was a plan in place, including spending the last week on a personal writer's retreat in Crete.

This was my office - for an hour or so before breakfast and more snatched moments before and after dinner - in the beautiful Aquila Rithymna Beach hotel on Crete's north coast.

Now I have returned home with the first draft of A Satisfactory Conclusion completed. It needs editing before I submit it to agents, but we'll see how far it gets.

My deadline for completing the editing process is just another 11 days, in the rather more prosaic setting of home. That is probably right - I need to focus on the polishing of this draft to achieve my best work.

Playing Othello discussion at Shakespeare's Globe theatre

I enjoyed a fascinating evening in the audience of an erudite discussion between four actors who have taken on the role of Othello in the eponymous play.

It was part of the 'Shakespeare and Race' season at Shakespeare's Globe and it was good to hear an open discussion about the deliberate racism in Othello, which can make the play difficult to watch. As I'm going to see the current Globe production in a couple of weeks, this was a great opportunity to hear from some past actors who've taken on the role, as well as Andre Holland, the current Othello.

 

Hertfordshire at war

A great exhibition at Hitchin British Schools Museum takes visitors back 100 years to the First World War. By following the experiences of real soldiers, it's possible to experience something of what our troops went through.

The recreation of a trench is chilling, except for the probably unrealistic cleanliness. I suspect most trenches were much dirtier and smellier than this one. When visiting the battlefields of France and Belgium, I've seen trenches which have been restored in situ, but it does no harm to have even a sanitised reminder.

I'm a great fan of the poetry of Wilfred Owen, Siegfried Sassoon et al, and this recreated trench doesn't come as close to bringing it home as their work does.

The wider exhibition tells the stories of people at home and at war, of men and women and how the war touched them. As we approach 100 years since the final end of fighting, it's always worth remembering the people who lived through it and those who died as a result of it.

'Mary Shelley' - finding her voice

I watched the film Mary Shelley more feeling I should than with any high expectations. In fact, it was a delight, not least for its portrayal of a strong woman who - almost exactly 200 years ago - created one of the most brilliant tales of science, medicine and abandonment.


Mary Shelley is less about Shelley the poet and more about Wollstonecraft the feminist writer and thinking - for the writer of Frankenstein clearly owes more to the influence of her mother and her writings than they do to those of her then lover.

In fact, it would appear that her writing of Frankenstein was influenced more by Dr Polidori, who she met in Geneva while visiting Lord Byron with her lover and sister. Discussions with the doctor seem to have fuelled Shelley's dreams, which are portrayed in the film as both intense and realistic. She sees not only a scientist bringing the dead to life, but also her own dead baby being once more alive.


Many critics of Mary Shelley have felt a distance between the novelist and her writing and yet that's precisely what I saw. It's incredible that she was just 19 when she began writing Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus. Casting an actress of a similar age - Elle Fanning - results in a stunning portrayal, showing a young girl willingly led astray by a glamorous, philandering poet. Her father's piece of advice on first seeing the writings of the younger Shelley was to ignore everyone else's work and "find your voice". That progression from young scribbler to mature novelist is shown in agonising detail by Fanning.


It is the men of Shelley's life who are less kindly portrayed. William Godwin (Stephen Dillane) is a weak father who takes his wife's side over that of his children. Percy Bysshe Shelley (Douglas Booth) is the genius poet who believes strongly in free love until there's evidence that his lover might actually have feelings for someone else. Lord Byron (Tom Sturridge) is simply vile.


Director Haifaa Al-Mansour creates more than a biopic. The film demonstrates little of the context of Mary Shelley's life, but goes some way to explaining one of her guiding principles: "I do not wish women to have power over men; but over themselves."

Sunny days remind you to look for beauty close to home

Hitchin, looking north into Bedfordshire

Why 'The Happy Prince' made me cry

I'm not a frequent crier but there were tears throughout the sombre beauty of The Happy Prince. Rupert Everett's portrayal of Wilde is matched only by his writing and directing of the film, which is simply stunning.

Firth, Everett and Thomas - the early days after Wilde's release from prison

Anyone who is unfamiliar with the story of Oscar Wilde - and I am sure such people exist - will be thrown in at the deep end. The story sheds light on the least glamorous part of Wilde's life, following his release from prison, while offering only flashbacks to the former glories and his downfall at the hands of the Marquess of Queensberry.

What is joyful about Everett's film is the many reminders of Wilde's writings. The thread running throughout is the telling of The Happy Prince, first to the author's two sons and then to the Parisian orphans he befriends (if that is entirely the right word) in the last few months of his life. As the short story comes to a close on Wilde's deathbed, the parallel between its subject and its author is only too painful. Once beauty is gone, all that remains is the heart, which can be discarded or it can be treasured.

Throughout the film, there are references to - and quotations from - other Wilde masterpieces, including The Picture of Dorian Grey and The Ballad of Reading Gaol. The fact that one of the best film adaptations of Wilde's finest play, The Importance of Being Earnest, also features Everett and co-stars Colin Firth and Tom Wilkinson, adds a further layer to Everett's passion.

The inevitable death occurs, with Wilde's last stalwart friends Robbie Ross and Reggie Turner close by. Everett cannot resist the humour of Wilkinson's priest, who received the dying author into the Catholic church and administered the last rites. There is a tragic beauty in the scene which is only enhanced by the subtle comedy.

Facts begin and end the film. The mention of Wilde's pardon in January 2017 under the new Turing's Law only makes the tale of his downfall more poignant. Who knows what further great works he might have written, had he not been sentenced to two years' hard labour in 1895 for gross indecency? If his infatuation with Lord Alfred Douglas hadn't been so criminal and controversial at the time, it perhaps would have fizzled out and not brought about such a catastrophic downfall. So many 'what if' scenarios. So many tears to shed in the dark beauty of The Happy Prince.

When the inspiration leads to hard work

Inspiration is all very well, but if it doesn’t lead to either a change in behaviour or some pure hard work, it’s pointless.

Luckily for me, dear reader, last week’s inspiration has brought me to the point of actually writing. Writing the novel I started several years ago. Luckily, the inspiration gave me more than a kick in the proverbial pants - it also gave me ideas for how to get my novel finished.

And I have a plan. 2,000 words a day for the next couple of weeks should get it finished. First draft finished, that is. Then there’s a lot of checking, editing, re-reading and careful proof-reading.

Until it’s ready to go to an agent or two. There will be rejections. There will - certainly - be criticism. But the novel will be written and it will possibly be published.

In the meantime, I’ve done today’s 2,000 words, sitting in the Members’ Room at the British Library.

I was surprised that the bare bones of the story are clearly mapped out. I’d obviously done more of the preparatory work than I’d realised.

Now it's onwards towards the finish line. Working hard.

On being inspired

Inspiration seems to come from different directions. On two occasions this week, I have made a last minute decision to attend an event to hear an author talking about their work. Ideas are coming like buses - nothing for ages and then two come along at once.



On Monday night, that spontaneity took me back to The Groucho Clun in Soho for the first time in 30 years. The speaker was Holly Bourne, author of several teen novels and also How do you like me now? Tonight, the venue was Hitchin Library and the author was Zoe Folbigg, talking about The Note.

With Zoe Folbigg

Both authors were not just vaguely inspirational but specific in their nuggets of wisdom.  I feel focused on how I can get my own novel completed. There are approaching 20,000 words languishing on my PC and it's time to get the rest written. Then I can move on to novel number 2.


Hearing Holly and Zoe speak has given my renewed impetus and also some clear pointers in terms of what I’m writing.



Watch this space ...

Writing about writing about writing

I spent yesterday evening in the very pleasant company of The Trouble Club, hearing from a panel on the growing (or diminishing) power of influencers.

One of the panel was Holly Bourne, whose book I bought because it sounds interesting. How do you like me now? is the tale of a young woman who lives her life online. A book about a modern writer. It traces the disjoint between reality and fantasy which has always fascinated me. Reading the opening on the train home from London was a little uncomfortable, but Bourne's style is easy to read and I'll be persisting.

 

The Groucho Club - a haunt from the 80s revisited.

Hitchin Lavender - looking and smelling beautiful

If you’ve never visited Hitchin Lavender, now is the time to do so. Especially since they’re open until 9pm every Tuesday and Friday.

The lavender looks and smells wonderful. And there’s a great selection of tea and cake available. Although my parents are not fit enough to walk up in the fields, they enjoyed looking around the museum and gift shop.



It was great to see so many tourists from far and wide - the car park has been moved and extended to take care of a huge increase in visitors since my last time, a couple of years ago.



Next time, I’ll take my real camera, not just my phone.

An otter in the sunshine

While undergoing tests for my irritating (in so many ways!) stomach issues today, I found myself relaxing in Cambridge's Addenbrooke's Hospital outpatients garden, where I found this beautiful otter sculpture.

In the blazing heat of this heatwave we're experiencing, the water feature bought a real sense of calm.


'The Otter' is a piece specially commissioned for the garden by sculptor Laurence Broderick, who also created the iconic 'Bull' centerpiece in Birmingham's Bullring shopping centre.


With half a dozen benches - some of which gave much-needed shade - the garden is a real haven. It was a pleasure, especially in such potentially stressful surroundings.

We all need sanctuary from time to time

On the edge of Brownsea Island lies a lagoon containing five hides for humans to observe the vast number of birds that seek sanctuary there. Just a few nautical metres from a busy shipping lane, any number of species find protection.

I was on my own little sanctuary yesterday morning - the bright yellow ferry that took me and my parents around the five islands of Poole Harbour. It's always good to find some peace. However you get there.

Catching up and taking the bigger view

Having been unwell for several months, I'm taking steps to regain my vitality. I may not be feeling much better, but I am at least kicking this illness in the teeth and getting on with life.


The day started with the longest dog walk in 2018.


Meanwhile, I have blogs coming out of my ears for a number of different sites. Just a few hours and I might get there.

The Globe Theatre - always a delight

International Music Museum

Today's highlight in Bologna was the International Museum of Music in Bologna. I have now found myself surrounded by so much that was fascinating. It was a little overwhelming.

Although I spent a couple of hours wandering the rooms, there was so much to see and read (and listen to) that I will have to plan another visit soon.

Dexter Gordon discovered in Bologna