The “Actually, Do Mention the War” Tour Continues. (Not about gardening.) 1

(Written this morning) Oh, hey, I’m in Paris now. Two hours in and I’m sitting in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower having just finished a religieuse. Mentioned to the woman at the bakery that I hadn’t had one in about 19 years. She smiled at me in a ‘don’t engage with the lunatic’ kind ...

“Espresso doppio, proszę.” “Yes, anything else?”

(Written in the Old Town this afternoon, between rainstorms) I kinda feel like I’m on that school trip to Quebec City in grade 7; even when I try to use a word in the local language, I get a reply in English. Sitting in a café (my second of the day) listening to seemingly the ...

Sopot. (Also not about gardening.) 1

So I didn’t write about London. Here are a few words: 1. Annelouise, Joe, the other Jo, Alan, and Mark Watson are great. 2. Paul Merton touched my leg when making his way through the Comedy Store with a tray of drinks. This is slightly better than making an arse of myself by babbling in ...

Polská. (Not about gardening.)

Poland so far. I’m in Poland. Here’s some stuff I wrote yesterday in my French school notebook: —- So, Poland. A land that makes fools of us all. At least of me, anyway. The last  few weeks of work have made me extremely stupid and deeply unprepared for this much-needed holiday. A key thing that ...