“Basil Brush” English.

We use them without thinking about it. Little phrases that make non native speakers look at each other in complete puzzlement. They have similar phrases in their own language, but they are never quite the same. “Vive La difference!”, as we say in English. German couple on recent holiday had excellent English and an enthusiasm to speak to us. Musicians by trade, or more profession perhaps one might say, they had a good ear as you would expect. Teachers back in Germany where many teachers are classed as civil servants. My teachers, way back, were never that civil to me. … Continue reading “Basil Brush” English.

Montague Burton wouldn’t have had to deal with this sort of thing, but his suitcase wouldn’t have had wheels.

  Off to Italy for a walking holiday. How to get there. Flight from Heathrow, sounds good but it takes off at some ungodly hour in the early morning. This means spending the night in beautiful downtown Hounslow so tha t one can be early enough to be at the airport at 4.30 in the morning. That’s 4.30 in the morning. When all good people should be ticked up in bed rather than milling about in an airport lounge. Bus to Heathrow the day before was generally uneventful apart from the temperature of the bus, one minute Baltic, the next … Continue reading Montague Burton wouldn’t have had to deal with this sort of thing, but his suitcase wouldn’t have had wheels.

A day out in Huddersfield,bone dust and drama.

I’m in the frozen north but it’s mildish. I came prepared for draughty railway stations with many layers. Living in the soft south has got me used to mild days in winter, and in the past I’ve been caught out on northern visits. It’s not that the cold is colder, but it is, it’s that there’s generally a wind blowing that gets under any flimsy coat and catches the kidneys. I’ve learnt my lesson and am prepared with layers that come below kidney level. I’m here amongst other reasons to visit my grandsons and to take trip up from near … Continue reading A day out in Huddersfield,bone dust and drama.

No such thing as a Greek postcode?

I’ve had a break from blogging as we took a trip to Spetses in Greece to visit a long standing friend and fine printmaker/artist. It’s a long trip that’s worth it. Flight to Athens and a night at Piraeus, the nearby port, before departure the next morning on the ferry. The joy of dropping in on a couple of other islands on the way including Hydra, where Leonard Cohen found himslef in the 60’s. What was he so bloody miserable about? I was in Manchester where one had the rain to be miserable about, and his bloody records did not … Continue reading No such thing as a Greek postcode?