Egypt, after the Revolution
escritto: Cruising is a peculiar way of seeing the world. Budget cruises, like that which I joined last year, tend to be overwhelmed by plump oldies straining the ship’s stores of Twinings and slowly, chirpily melting on the poop deck. When the ship docks, they’re dumped on the harbourside and bundled into buses, which whisk them inland for half a day of numb-bummed wonderment. Then they leap...
Britain in the Snow
escritto: A few years back, it snowed in London. Not limp, half-arsed proto-slush that’s just ugly and annoying, but proper, knee-deep fairy fluff that turns everybody into chums. We headed to Regent’s Park, which was just swathed in the stuff, immaculate and bewitching. Now, there are two ways to react to the prospect of a square-mile of manipulable raw material. One is to build podgy little...
escritto: I’ve wanted to write this piece for a while; to be precise, since I first stumbled, gawping, into the Piazza del Duomo, Florence, about this time a year ago. The trip came on the back of a tough few weeks in London. I had to miss a day of it because of a sodding interview in the City, and I’d brought a little keepsake from home: a malicious, bulging ulcer searing angrily at the...
Follow this blog. It’s for your own good really.
Sorry to yammer on, but check out my new blog here. It’s full of wisdom like this: ‘cyclists have the most useless, flaccid tool imaginable for communicating anger: the bell. You can go blue in the face and frothy-mouthed and properly bonkers with the meandering sightseers in front of you, but your only recourse is a benign, terribly polite little tinkle. It’s the meek, metallic...
It’s early days for my new writing blog, but please take a look if you can. A few followers makes all the difference. It’s called ‘E Scritto’, and can be found here. Wishing you all a great day, Will.