The hometown of my Mayor’s wife
I’d driven past this part of the Cote d’Azur a few times without stopping. Then The Belgian made an appointment for us both and it appeared on my map. But it wasn’t new to my […]
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Mountain biking before the comfort years…
I was always of a singletracked mind. Riding mountain bikes in England usually turned the bars toward hidden technical trails like a water diviner finding a stream. That was what the bikes I owned sought […]
Read MoreGreg Lemond, Kenny Dalglish and me.
There was a strong smell that inhabited the room. Warm, sweet, familiar and slightly burned. It more than filled it, defining the space – like a fog. I didn’t know where I knew it from […]
Read MoreTo Visit England
The call came and the plane left. France to Belgium, Belgium to England, then England back to France. Mostly with The Other Belgian. He was writing about visiting the UK for a day for a […]
Read MoreOver a not so dry mountain with friends in yellow
In a way I wish I had a map of all the places I’ve photographed people. I suppose in the bicycle years it’d largely be a map of the Alps, Dolomites and Belgium. I have […]
Read MoreOver a dry mountain with friends in yellow
Not so much four seasons in one day, but perhaps two. In that way a mountain can close it’s weather in when it’s had enough of you, the bottom of the ascent was blissful and […]
Read MoreA moment of sadness in an upturned world.
A couple of days ago I learned that the mum of my ‘Italian family’ passed away this week. This left me numb with sadness as my virtual sister told me on the telephone from Italy. […]
Read MoreTo visit your homeland as a tourist. In the rain. In the seventies.
In a once familiar pattern of answering the batphone to Specialized, being given a fly by wire brief and packing co-ordinates and cameras onto a plane, I landed in my previously native London and took […]
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