My 'reading list' is a stacked-up, teetering tower of books crying out to be read. Not forgetting what's on my Kindle, which includes The Blue Hour a collection of short stories by fellow writers group member, Dreena Collins and The Poppy Field by another Jersey author, Deborah Carr. And, there are those 'Dulcie Domum' books by Sue Limb I really want to re-read... so, will two weeks be long enough? I will give it my best shot.
I'm biased when it comes to The Algarve. It is my personal, European haven, the place I would like to spend more time. It's not just a passing phase, I've been in love with the place for twenty-six years... and who can blame me? I have waxed lyrical about it since I was blown away on my first visit.
I've always been a summer person and between the months of May and August, there is nowhere else I would rather be than on the beach. For as long as I can remember the sea has been like a magnet to me. Something to do with my maternal Greek grandmother's genes maybe? ... Continue Reading →
I can't believe that the iconic movie, Dirty Dancing was released on 12th May 1987. I was a mere baby at the time 😉 passionately in love with Patrick Swayze and consequently very jealous of Francis 'Baby' Housman AKA Jennifer Gray. So ... it has been thirty years since that iconic lift. I have been... Continue Reading →
Having survived my 12.5 hour trip from Jersey to Faro, with Mr Mucus clasped tightly to my chest, I started sweating him out in the glorious Algarvean sunshine the following morning. I didn't last very long in the heat and spent the afternoon in bed. I balked at the suggestion of going out for an... Continue Reading →
12 months ago, I started counting the days until I returned to the one place in the world that I would happily call my home. The place where, for so many years, I have dithered about permanently leaving the UK for, The Algarve. It may well happen. I spent 12.5 hours getting here. There are only... Continue Reading →
I apologise to Harold Fry's creator, Rachel Joyce, for the analogy in the title of this post. Of course my epic journey would have been nothing like as dramatic as Harold's. But the thought hit me, when walking along the beach around about Trafal in the Algarve the other day, in an attempt to burn... Continue Reading →
Am away for a couple of weeks and finding it difficult to switch off. I always have done. Not sure why. I am on holiday and home from home. Heart pounding, mind racing. I admire people who just flick a mental switch and go from 9-5 to mañana mode as soon as they lock their... Continue Reading →