I had never felt more relaxed while watching England play football. Born just two days after its one and only global triumph, 55 years have taught me to expect the worst. It has become a kind of self-preservation technique. However great the anticipation, there was always a Polish goalkeeper, a divine hand, or any number…
Under the partial shade of a tree there sat an old plastic garden chair. Many years ago, the yellowish chair had probably been white and, more likely than not, each of its legs had connected to the ground in a reassuringly simultaneous and sturdy manner. On this day, those properties were lost to time. The…
This was going to be a travel story. And then the world changed. Leafing through the pages of my journal, the varied memories of last summer’s self-directed tour through seven European countries jumped from the pages; vivid and distinct again, as if each event had happened this morning. The lines of often illegible scrawl and…
Journeys And 