Exhibitions are an acquired taste, and as I age, going to them tastes better and better. Ice Age Art at the British Museum is one of the best. Not because of its design - I found its juxtaposition of original artefacts with more contemporary art infuriating - but because it set me thinking. Then, over…
A stake in the ground
A few weeks ago I stayed in a rather grand seventeenth century merchant's house in France. It had walls a metre thick and backed on to a hill, which was all very fine for protecting against the biting north wind but, 350 years later, made phoning or texting a lottery. Unless, that is, I went…
Tomato wars
Frank is a thoughtful man who rarely smiles. He also happens to be the owner and chef of Le Symphony, a favourite café of mine. His menu is limited but his omelettes are a dream, and when I am in Brittany it is with him that we - Bernard and I - have lunch most…
Reluctant mermaid
It was more than sixty years ago; I was twenty and on my way to a party on a summer evening in Wonderful Copenhagen, as Danny Kaye had taught us to call it. Why Copenhagen? The University, you see, had organized a course in Danish for foreign students, most of who turned out to be…
A minimalist wedding
The whole wedding scene has gone too far. This year, couples and/or their parents will be spending an average of £16,000 for the pleasure. Hiring out castles, buying matching dresses and suits for those close to the bride and bridegroom, and for lots of couples paying the cost of wedding/bridal consultants/planners who jostle on the…
When words failed me
It has been a terrible few weeks and I am writing this blog in the saddest of circumstances. At the end of February my wife and I were completely thrown by the death of our eldest son. It has all been very painful, but one way that has helped us deal with our grief has…
Sin and Mr Parker
Yesterday morning, just after eleven, I suddenly realized that I now been sinning for at least seventy years. I had already emptied the contents of my supermarket trolley into a shopping bag, but I continued to stand there, observing with more than a little fascination the purchases made by the amply proportioned lady fumbling in…
Spring’s hope eternal
Some see me as an angry man, and I concur. In my defence the anger is usually focussed on only one or two themes at a time and at the moment the issue riling me is the sloppy way we define the seasons, how we are letting skewed reasoning dominate common sense. As I see…