There’s been a couple of rainy runs, but so far this month I’ve been reasonably lucky with how the weather has fallen on my training days. This was sunset over Highbury Fields yesterday afternoon. I must confess I did have a little girl call ‘faster faster’ as I plodded past her…
It’s cold. I don’t like the cold. I am daydreaming about piles of fresh squid, spicy salads and cold beer on the northern shores of Phu Quoc, Vietnam.
On the river in Shrewsbury.
In Medieval times, towns and cities across England boasted Gropecunt Lanes. These were the days when streets were named after their main function or economic activity and here were the main centres of prostitution. The earliest recorded reference of a Gropecunt Lane was in the early 13th century but by the late 16th century all… Continue reading Gropecunt Lane
The themes continue to emerge! I’ve written before about the inordinate amount of time I spend in hotels, and hotel art has inspired some of my Sinful Sundays. Hotel art intrigues me; on occasions so stylised it’s verging on the pretentious, on others so randomly curated you wonder why they bothered. It can certainly set… Continue reading Hotel art #1
Today I meet my new niece. She was born in August, three months early and weighing just 1lb 12oz. Only parents and grandparents were allowed into the neonatal intensive care unit so I’ve had to wait until she came home to meet her. I’m so excited I cried on the bus to the train station.… Continue reading Today is a party dress day
Mmm, I’ve realised that posting a photo a day has the potential to reveal some of my stranger habits. One is snapping signs I spot on my travels that make me smile. The ones in this post were from toilet doors in Tanzania. This one was from a garden centre cafe in Wiltshire, yesterday afternoon. … Continue reading It’s a sign… #1
Pink sky, glittery fields, crisp air. What a difference 24 hours makes!
In grey January countryside colours are muted. Farmland is mired in mud, cattle are shed-bound. Now, it’s hard to believe it’ll ever look different, but that’s one of the great joys of training through winter – watching the world around you, whether that’s London parks or Wiltshire farms, come to life again.
I head out of Paddington on the train regularly. My Mum is just outside Oxford, my business partner near Chippenham, my best friend in Cardiff. On each of these journeys I pass through Cholsey, a small village where generations of my family lived and where my Dad grew up. I do this weird thing of… Continue reading A wave from the train…
