128 – Bleakness

Walking through the lanes yesterday afternoon, I realised how utterly bleak it is around here. Everything dead and disfigured as though someone had gone nuts with a muckspreader loaded with creosote. Continue reading 128 – Bleakness


127 – Montmorillon

The nearest town to here is Montmorillon, 25 kms away. Well known locally for its status as a Cité De L’écrit. One of fifteen such places in Europe dedicated to writing, reading and books in general. Hay-on-Wye being another of the fabled fifteen. Continue reading 127 – Montmorillon

126 – Chip Shops and Expats

With thousands of English expats living in this part of France, I’ve often thought that it would be a good idea to set up a chippy. So it was both pleasing and galling to see one yesterday as I drove through Confolens. I stopped the car and gazed blankly at it like I was a young boy watching the school bully take all the glory in a conker tournament with my prize-winning conker. That should be me I thought. Continue reading 126 – Chip Shops and Expats

125 – Return to Queaux

Since my return here on Sunday, it’s been unusually warm. Confusingly warm in fact. A tropical breeze blowing against my wintered face as I sit by the pond on the jetty writing this blurb. If I half shut my eyes and let go, I can see myself dangling my legs into warm seawater holding a fishing rod full of clipper and bream on a beach in Curacao. Continue reading 125 – Return to Queaux