Over the hills, under the moon - and off the beaten path

Living in London for the last week has been challenging. The biggest strike in Britain in 30 years has created travel chaos by closing down the railways and the tube lines, and the striking rail workers and London Underground staff have taken to the streets in protests against pay freezes and proposed job cuts. Rita and I have also taken to the streets, as walking is by far the easiest way to get around these days. We have to stay local, though, as traversing the enormous  London metropolis by foot from end to end is almost impossible Fortunately, we are living in the utterly charming,  vibrant neighborhood of Islington, which feels almost like a village within the city. Islington,  popular with young, progressive people,  has a history of radical left-wing politics since Marx lived and studied in the neighborhood.  The area is generally posh and affluent, but the population is actually quite ...

  We've only had four days in Edinburg. Four days are not nearly enough to get a grip of  a city, but  easy enough to make you fall in love with it Walking the Scottish capital, it  feels like wandering into an amazing  Harry Potter wizarding world with turreted buildings and secret, cobblestoned alleys (or 'closes', as they are called in Edinburgh) There is a reason for this When J.K. Rowling began writing the first Potter book, she moved to Edinburg and, being a single mom and quite poor, she wrote the first three novels sitting in coffee houses with her infant daughter sleeping in a pram at her side. Some of the first chapters were written at a corner table inside a cafe in  Nicolson Street, which at the time was co-owned by her brother-in-law. Now the cafe is closed - and you see no Potter paraphernalia inside. As far as I could see, not even dementors were hanging around.   Quite close to the rom...

  While most of Europe this June was hit by a historic heat wave with temperatures up towards (and in some places even beyond) 40 degrees celsius, we managed to find the one tiny spot  with cold rain and howling winds. We visited our oldest British friends in their small cabin way up in the northwestern corner of Scotland and after driving for many, many hours along single-track dirt roads, we found ourselves in the most gorgeous landscape. On a vast heath, surrounded by bald mountains – and with the waves of the North Atlantic ocean hammering towards a sandy shore deep beneath us. The surrounding area has for many generations been defined by crofting, the traditional Highland type of agriculture with its small landholdings, scattered farm houses, and areas of communal grazing. After the Highland clearances in early 1800, when tenants where forced out to make room for sheep, many ruined houses now lie scattered across the hillsides.  Michael did not see mu...

.  For the last many weeks, we have been living in our town house in the small mountain village of Antraigues-Sur-Volane in the south of France Almost every day, the sun has been shining, the heat has been massive – and not very much has been happening in our lives. Our daily decisions have mostly been - what book to read,  - which shady part of our gardens to sit in,  - where on the village square to perhaps play a game of petanque,  - what  to buy for dinner in the local epicerie,  - which  local café to choose for our occasional evening apéritif. Whenever we stay in Antraigues, we experience this ‘joie simple du farniente’ - the simple joy of idleness. The only exception each year is the one single night in June, where the quiet village life  suddenly turns into  a wild party. That night was last night! Loud rock music was thundering off the walls of the old stone houses around the village square and the villagers  dan...