Places, Running

197 – The Lanton Pancake Run

After five days here, I’ve realised that I don’t live in Andernos-Les-Bains at all. I live in Taussat-Les-Bains, which is the next village up.

And to add to the confusion, I was just about to change the title of the Blog, when I noticed on a letter that my official address is actually in Lanton, another village 4 km down the coast. So I left it as it was. For now… Continue reading

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Places, Running, Writing and Books

196 – Andernos-Les-Bains

The Blogley Roadshow has moved on. Or to put it slightly less dramatically, I simply shoved a few pants into a bag and drove down the D106 to my new home in Andernos-Les-Bains on the Arcachon Basin. Famous for seafood, gentle weather and the setting for countless French films depicting well-heeled Parisiennes sitting around eating oysters, arguing and drinking wine. Continue reading

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Places, Running

182 – Running in Bordeaux

I love to run because it makes me feel better. Keeps the wolf from the door as it were. Wolves in the form of Demons that tell me I’ve ballsed up my life and should change course immediately. Get a job in an office. Get my own parking space. Buy a 3D-TV. You might be familiar with them? (Demons not 3D-TVs.) Continue reading

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Random, Running

142 – Birthday MegaSuperWatch

When I was eight my father bought me a digital watch for my birthday. It had the time and date. That was it. But it was the best present I’d ever had. It stopped me being late for roll calls and having to write out hymns as a punishment all night in the dark cellars of the boarding school I went to. Continue reading

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Running

122 – The Run in Queaux

A perfect morning. As still as a train in an abandoned station. So I stretch next to the pond flexing my back high into the air like an awakening cat. I feel like a ballerina looking forward to a dance. Beech leaves falling helplessly from their branches into the cold water. Confetti fluttering down onto a flawlessly crafted mirror. Continue reading

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Running

108 – The Run

It’s 37 degrees. The track around the park is like an avenue of hot coals. Burning the rubber on my running shoes as I hit the long straight that leads up to the Orangery. The short shrubs along the route providing zero shade as I increase the pace, sweat already dripping from my brow like I’m running under a shower. Continue reading

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Running

52 – Stretching

This weekend the Parc de la Tete D’Or became a giant stage for the entire cast of Lyon to act on. Never seen it so busy. Every corner and cranny. Every patch of grass and verge. Every bench, seat and log. Every café, restaurant and bar. Crammed solid. From the wealthy holding up their cold champagne flutes, to the beggars holding up their trousers with cable ties discarded from building sites. Continue reading

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Places, Running

14 – Running

I walk down to the Rhone and start stretching. It’s Saturday. As mentioned previously, this is the best part of my week. Not that the other parts are bad; it’s just that this is what I like doing more than anything else. Hard to imagine I know, but since my first week at boarding nearly 30 years ago, I’ve always ran. It got me through those tough years then and still serves as the perfect tonic when life grinds me down. It’s a safety valve and I’m never as happy as when I’m on a run. Continue reading

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