‘It’s like being in Midsomer Murders,’ remarked our friend Sarah after her first day staying with us. By the end of her visit, she tasked...
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The socialist newspaper the Morning Star popped up in my Facebook stream last week. The post involved a report criticising Paul Nowak, General Secretary of...
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Despite two periods of living and working close to where the Gallaghers lived in Longsight and then Burnage, I never met or saw Liam or...
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One of the categories on my website is ‘Life in another country.’ We were living in Portugal when I launched the site, so it was...
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For months, we meant to formally identify a yellow bush in our front garden. It’s a haven for birds and bees and adds a vibrant...
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The car is right up my backside. I’m doing 30mph in a 30mph zone, yet I’ve watched the car gaining steadily on me for the...
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We’re almost British again, almost but not quite, not really. When you live abroad you get to keep your British passport but, in a way...
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I’d had my eyeballs sandblasted by storms while crossing endless barren deserts; my shins nibbled by tetchy piranhas when wading through tropical rivers; and my...
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Mentioning The Beehive bar in Puerto de la Cruz in my last post about travel writing brought back memories of Harry. Harry appeared in the...
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A patch of woodland on a winter day. Silent as the grave. Not even the slightest breeze to rustle the layer of oak leaves strewn...
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