It always strikes me how foreign tourists stick to the same handful of places. In The Netherlands, where I’m from, everyone flocks to the Red Light District or Anne Frank House, depending on their preferences. I can’t vouch for the Red Light District…
A reflection on writing and walking, and writing about walking, upon reading Robert MacFarlane’s The Old Ways
What’s the point of walking? A meditation on an early summer walk across Norfolk from Roman fort to sea front.
About halfway between Acle and Great Yarmouth lies Berney Arms. It’s hard to explain what Berney Arms is. It’s not a village. It used to be a pub, but the pub closed down in 2015. It has a windmill, but the mill is currently closed for maintenance. It has the most remote railway station in the UK, three miles from the nearest road, but the station is closed until further notice. In short, Berney Arms is nothing.
The situation: a few unexpected days off work. The desire: a holiday. The challenge: make it cheap and cheerful. The solution: a micro break.
Some musings on the benefits of holidays and doing nothing from a former compulsive worker. What’s to be gained by taking it easy?
I am a technophobe. I don’t have a smartphone. My laptop is at least ten years old. Its spelling checker… Read more The Haze of Holidays Past: Or how a Dreadful Shopping Experience Brought back a Lovely Memory
Thinking about Vienna, I thought of touristy clichés: Sissi, opera, Mozartkugeln. Naff, quaint, boring. Not to worry. I wasn’t going… Read more How I Was Almost Eaten By Fish In An Abandoned Bunker: An Unusual Travel Story
Going to a cinema to see a documentary about psychiatry does not sound like a recipe for a great night out, let alone a recommendable tourist activity, but hear me out…
What is it that makes nature writing so alluring? Can nature, or even just reading about it, be an antidote to stress? On tree hugging, daffodils and karate.
cococatani 