It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a holiday must be in want of a breakdown. And so, with great dramatic flair and the sort of overpacked boot that could clothe a minor Balkan militia, I’m off to the Lake District - a land where Wordsworth wandered lonely as a … Continue reading Bogs, Beatrix, and the Bleak Sublime: A Lake District Lament
Tag: Life
Bluebird and the Abyss: On Donald Campbell and the Art of Vanishing
“All men dream: but not equally.” – T. E. Lawrence “The machine does not isolate man from the great problems of nature but plunges him more deeply into them.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry I’ve always been haunted by that final film clip: the blue hull slicing across Coniston like a bullet skimming a baptismal font, … Continue reading Bluebird and the Abyss: On Donald Campbell and the Art of Vanishing
On the Road – Jack Kerouac and the Cult of Going Absolutely Nowhere Very Fast
I’ve never had the constitution for jazz. It makes me feel like I’m trapped in a lift with a methed-up trumpet and no discernible plot. And yet, somewhere in the post-war fug of America’s caffeine-sweating adolescence, Jack Kerouac managed to convince a generation that the meaning of life could be found in bebop, Benzedrine, and … Continue reading On the Road – Jack Kerouac and the Cult of Going Absolutely Nowhere Very Fast
The Tudors Break a Sweat: My Encounter With the Most Pointless Plague in History
Is there anything more British than politely dying of a mysterious illness while sweating profusely and refusing to make a fuss about it. Enter: The Sweating Sickness of 1485 - or as I like to call it, the Tudor’s very own bout of medieval man-flu, except it killed you quicker than a court summons from … Continue reading The Tudors Break a Sweat: My Encounter With the Most Pointless Plague in History
Mastro Titta: Pope’s Little Helper with a Big Sword
Giovanni Battista Bugatti - what a name, eh? It sounds like the kind of bloke you’d expect to sell you a fine bottle of chianti or offer unsolicited advice about your olive oil. But no - our man Bugatti wasn’t swirling wine or chasing goats in the hills. He was the official executioner for the … Continue reading Mastro Titta: Pope’s Little Helper with a Big Sword
Wording 