I’m afraid I can’t actually remember it. It must have been September 1959. I was just six. I should have been seven, but somewhere along the line I missed a year. I moved up from Marlborough Infants School, putting Mrs Brock and Mrs Edwards safely behind me. A lot of my friends came with me […]Read Post ›
Looking at this bowl this morning as it catches and reflects the light in the most beautiful ways, I was reminded of my sojourn in Reggio Emilia about fifteen years ago. People who knew me then will roll their eyes at this point, because I returned from a week’s educational course so full of unbearable […]Read Post ›
It promised to rain. But I have an umbrella. It was an early start (for me, anyway). But our house is only a couple of hundred yards away. The weather was looking iffier. But I wanted to go. So rainbow umbrella in hand, my most comfortable green shoes, warm yellow coat and blue gloves, (unlikely […]Read Post ›
Maybe that’s a bit of an abstruse connection, but yesterday one of my husband’s dreams came true. It was our 44th wedding anniversary and we decided to escape the Coronation and come to Soller so he could do a course in copper patination. A few years ago we were in Malaga and happened to wander […]Read Post ›
No. Not the band but the area of London. Walthamstow. The Far Eastern end of the Victoria Line. Not difficult to get to from where I live. Ealing. The most western end of the Central Line. But a long way nevertheless. I went in order to make the typical Polish Londoner’s pilgrimage to the William […]Read Post ›
I like being a tourist and doing touristy things. I don’t go as far as wearing a kissmequick hat, but I like to see the sights and take the photos. Most of all I like quirky forms of transport. This holiday has been no exception. Now that we’ve settled in to our charming hotel, we […]Read Post ›
Life Through Basia's Eyes 