We sat on a patch of earth, the only nettle-free patch we could find within this scrap of woodland, and we listened. We had fallen in love with the knot of patchy trees as soon as we had climbed over the stile, and so here we sat.
I don’t feel I can say I know a country unless I have peered in to its geographical heart and seen what it is made of.
Have you ever experienced so much rain that you seriously considered evolving in to some kind of exotic marine creature? And not just the ordinary straight down rain, but the sideways stuff too? Welcome to the Scottish Highlands.
Authenticity versus making a plate of food which gets your blood pumping. Yes, I am aiming for, and excited about, the latter; the problem is that my ego always wants me to go to the former.
I just saw someone on TV who started a Cuban restaurant after visiting Cuba a few times. I laughed. Out loud. What is wrong with me?
I’m not bad with languages. I can pick up enough to cover the basics, and get by. I don’t speak German, but I do have enough to buy a sausage or a pretzel. Actually, no: that’s a lie.
As the train descends the mountain towards the lake the sun burns pure blood red, catching in the mist. Trees flow down the steep slope to the lakeside.