A couple of weeks ago, for a miniature holiday, my partner Susie and I went to stay in a caravan at Ringstead Bay in Dorset, lent to us by my kind friend Vickey. It poured on the way down and when we stopped, mid-afternoon, at Tolpuddle, to pay homage to the Tolpuddle Martyrs, transported to …
I’ve been back from my holiday less than 24 hours and, weirdly, I’m already having trouble remembering exactly what happened. I know that sounds ridiculous but it’s really hard to get an overall sense of the thing. We stayed with our friend Isa and her family in Laramie, Wyoming, but instead of a sweeping cinematic …
Yesterday, my holiday began. I didn’t get up early. I didn’t ride my bike to Victoria. I didn’t catch the bus to Oxford. I lay in bed till 8 o’clock. I had coffee. I watered the pots in the garden, ate some sultana bran, sat at the kitchen table and all was well. And then …
I went camping this summer, in Dorset with my eldest, Miriam and my youngest, Silas. We pitched camp in our usual busy field a couple of miles outside Swanage, but then on our way to town for fish and chips, we passed a beautiful, empty, wide-open site, and our heads were turned. So back we …
I’m a very possessive person. Not that I don’t like to share my stuff. Come round to mine for a barbecue or a cup of tea and it’s ‘mi casa es su casa’. You want to borrow a book? Fine. Drive my car? Go ahead. No. I’m possessive of my space. I have my spot …
Bank holiday is like therapy. In the middle of busy and ordinary, there’s suddenly a moment for special, for the seaside, for friends, for beer in the garden, for a deep breath and a sigh of contentment. A bank holiday is good for the national psyche. Now, I have a group of psychiatrists who I …
The end of term comes in dribs and drabs in our house. Miriam and Esther finished ages ago because they’re at University. I’m still in Oxford, but all the students have gone. Sam has been taking exams so he finished before Silas and Linus, whose schools drag on till the end of this week. And …
This summer I didn't have a 'summer holiday'. I camped for a couple of days each in Wales and Dorset. I visited friends for a couple more, and I volunteered at a festival. In every case, someone shared. Some friends shared their garden for camping and others their house for more refined sleeping. To prove …