For Whom the Bell Tolls
It is just after five in the morning. The room is cool and silent, cloaked in that dense, velvety darkness … Continue reading For Whom the Bell Tolls
Wool and Wind on The Blorange
Dawn on the hills of South Wales. A cold wind is blowing in from the west. Skylarks sing above the … Continue reading Wool and Wind on The Blorange
Walk a Country Mile.
This is truly my happy place. I am somewhere above Crickhowell in Wales. The narrow country lane meanders between tall … Continue reading Walk a Country Mile.
Borderlands
Northeast of Abergavenny, the A465 climbs steadily through the soft hills of South Wales. It is a road of smooth … Continue reading Borderlands
The Winds of Andalusia
I can hear it moaning around the eaves: a hot wind blowing down from the east as the day heats … Continue reading The Winds of Andalusia
Death in the Afternoon
“There is one town that would be better than Aranjuez to see your first bullfight in if you are only … Continue reading Death in the Afternoon
THE WHITE VILLAGE
I arrive in Grazalema under a sky that can’t make up its mind — bright sun one moment, cloud-shadowed the … Continue reading THE WHITE VILLAGE
THE WHITE ROAD
There’s a white road that descends from the hills of Andalusia to the village of Arriate. At this hour—just after … Continue reading THE WHITE ROAD
A Coffee at Venta el Choza
Morning in Arriate. Seven thirty AM. A café latte, hot and hot, steaming on the table in front of me. … Continue reading A Coffee at Venta el Choza
A Coffee at Cafe Andiamo
Sunday morning in Melbourne. A clear winter sky, sharp as glass. The sun spills over Flinders Street Station like warm … Continue reading A Coffee at Cafe Andiamo
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