In front of me, a sea of lads in bucket hats and Adidas, with pints. Behind me, a sea of lads in bucket hats and Adidas, with pints. A luxuriantly barneted Richard Ashcroft is concluding his warm-up act and tells us to give it up for the greatest rock’n’roll band in the world, which those
The American girl was listing her reasons for moving to Ireland in protest at Donald Trump. ‘I cannot stay in a country where Roe vs Wade has been overturned. Did you know abortion is restricted in a lot of states? Oh no, I cannot wait to live in Ireland.’ We are becoming used to Americans
Kenya The poster for the Edinburgh University Shakespeare Company’s production of Much Ado About Nothing had a hippie design, with flowers and psychedelic colours. ‘In a false quarrel there is no true valour,’ announced one flyer. Quite pointedly, I had not been invited to see the play, but I decided I should go and so
I admit to feeling a little intimidated by charcuterie. I have a clutch of books on my shelf all laying out in step-by-step detail how to craft your own salami or whip up a perfect pancetta. They’re well-thumbed, but not a single one has a cooking stain on it. I’m just too nervous when it
Lunch at the Academy Club with my wicked chums Mark Slemeck and Charlie Grey was probably not the best preparation for tasting a dozen or so wines for this offer from Corney & Barrow. Mark likes his wine but likes his caipirinhas better and Charlie is more of a Pinot Grigio/Newcastle Brown Ale kind of
I’m just back from Vancouver, where I was speaking at a fundraiser for the Free Speech Union of Canada. At the dinner afterwards I sat next to an Alberta separatist, a movement I was unaware of until now. Dating to the 19th century, it advocates for the secession of the province of Alberta and has
Q. My friend has had an irritating experience in our local cinema. She speaks fluent French and teaches it in secondary school. Her enjoyment of a very good French film with English subtitles was ruined by a group of women in the back row laughing loudly each time a joke was made in French, before
There are at least two Long Islands. One of them, eternally famous for The Great Gatsby, is a fascinating blend of glamour and meretriciousness. It is separated from the other one by 3,000 miles of ocean and a totally different culture. In this Long Island – actually about 70 islands of various sizes, also known
‘Spook or spoof?’ asked my husband, throwing a copy of the paper over to me, and only missing by a foot. When I’d picked it up, I read the headline: ‘Fully Chinese-made drone spooking Ukraine air defence.’ Then I read the introduction of the report: ‘A new Russian decoy drone used to spoof Ukrainian air-defences
I wanted to be a writer, but instead of sitting down I strode out over the shingle ridge and saw the sun coming up pink, pushing the thick clouds away, and felt the cold wind forcing the morning’s door, hurrying everything along, even the tiniest stones, which rained down in little landslides no bigger than
Sometimes nothing would do but the jug band from the swamp stomping the dirt road down the bayou grunting bass and wailing mouth-harp chain-gang holler and low moon riding the cypress trees hauling along that long-time sorrow crying out in that strange joy sometimes nothing else could hope to bring it home
So much steam and shaftsof sooty light. The porterslook like Laurel and Hardyand I like the train driver’sleathery smell, the glowof hot coals, the crowdedplatforms. Our mumsand dads are on the move,escaping wars, seekinglost weekends, travellingsomewhere sad alongwith the dead. WhenI blink whole epochsare shunted off. Onthe holiday specialwhere I once satthere’s a dazed, aged
‘The Somebody Else’s Problem field can be run for years on a single torch battery. This is because it relies on people’s natural disposition not to see anything they don’t want to, weren’t expecting or can’t explain.’ The SEP, as I hope many of you remember, is a cloak of invisibility featured in Douglas Adams’s
