There’s nothing at Larina except dead people and gravestones. Which makes this 7th century village perched high on perilous cliffs overlooking the Bugey nuclear power station, its sinister looking reactor globes a mere sling shot away from what used to be a village hall, a very strange place indeed. Continue reading
There is nothing better than swimming in the ice cold lakes and rivers of Southern France in May. But it wasn’t planned this way. Continue reading
Today is a special day; it’s my birthday. Thirty-nine and counting. And as anybody my age reading this will attest to: how did I get here so fast. First it was 21. Then 25. Then 30. Then 35. Then 39 and suddenly the big one is only a mere 364 waking mornings away. Continue reading
