So another fine year draws to its inevitable close. New Year’s Eve. And with it the obvious need and desire to work out whether this year past was a good one, whether improvements need to be made to ensure next year might be made even better. Changes to lifestyle, to diet, to plans and aspirations. – Read More-
This is hell. (Should be a lovely pic, still having upload issues; think ‘beach, sun, gorgeous’) Ok, not very hellish, long as you don’t mind heat. Intense heat of the tropical variety. Soothed only by the intake of copious drinks. But man can’t live on sunshine and rum-based cocktails alone. Though thinking about that… hmmmm… – Read More-
So morning one we swim. Before breakfast. Because its hot and sunny and because you can. So easily. And even a floundering splasher like me can make a bit of an effort. Morning two, the pattern continues. Morning three; pre-morning really, I wake up at about 5am with a blocked and uncomfortable left ear. The – Read More-
Its true. Jamaicans call everyone ‘mon’. As in ‘y’areet dere, Mon?’ Its like living in a Bob Marley album. And its cool, chilled and laid back. Considering its about 30 degrees day and night. But when we leave the somewhat rarified atmosphere of our little resort, which only really happens when we walk the beach, – Read More-
You never know about Boxing Day football. Would Harry Kane go for the extra pigs-in-blankets yesterday? Would Deli Alli have seconds of roast potatoes? Mousa Dembele hit the Christmas pud to excess? Leaving them all fat and sickly and floundering round the pitch, all hung over and over-loaded? Obviously not. As we seem to be – Read More-
The odd thing is not that Christmas in Jamaica is cloudless and hotter than hell, but that for Jamaicans, this IS just, Christmas. Reindeer would melt, Santa would hyperventilate. The elves would be too stoned to help. Christmas is so culture specific that whilst New York celebrates it in overcoats and scarves and snow, just – Read More-
So we have a 9.45 flight from Gatwick. No problem. Be there 7.45… allow hour and a half… ok, leave at 6, up at (fucking!!!!) 5. No problem. What could possibly go wrong? All planned, all packed (Mrs C insisted that we pack on Sunday, for some unaccountable reason other than by Wednesday night I’ve – Read More-
Coming out of the station on my bike last night on the way home I nearly had a crash. A car was pulling out of a driveway and decided not to look in my direction. Where, if he had he may have noticed lots of flashing lights and hi-viz jackets and all the shit cyclists – Read More-
Yet still they sodding win. I was riveted to the match on tv last night. Riveted. So enthralled by the first half of the first half that I went out. Had some pre-Christmas stuff to attend to. Not shopping. Never shopping. Mel had in fact gone to Brent Cross (now open til 11pm!!! oh joy) – Read More-
I love it when newspapers find something, for which there’s no conclusive evidence, and decide to let you know what’s probably going on. But in the absence of much in the way of fact (which never got in the way of any good story), they just paint it out for you, IN BIG LETTERS, and – Read More-