Category Archives: photos

Weekend coming up

Love a train trip. Always have. Usually I like to get to the station early, check the departure boards and reassure myself I have ages yet, which gives me time to:
Muse on others at the station and wonder where they’re going and why
Buy a cappuccino
Peruse the magazines and books in Smiths and sometimes succumb
But mostly people watch.

I love stations and airports. All the drama, big and small in front of you. Endings and beginnings. Holidays, romances, family reunions, tired looking business people with a case full of whatever it is they do, tantrums, tears, laughter, sorrow. It’s all here.

This time I realised almost too late that my train was an hour earlier than I thought so a race across London, a quick check of the platform and a rush to my carriage. Delighted to make it with 3 minutes to go and also somehow cheated. All the usual pleasures of a meander about the station forgone.

As I got on though a sight that always reassures:


The craziness and noise of the station left behind, the reassuring quiet of this carriage. A window seat, socket for iPad, headphones and let the movie start. My train treat.

Later, movie over, we approach the border with Scotland and the view from the window absorbs me til we arrive in Edinburgh. My old home town. A life before the life I have now. And always feel like I am stepping back in time.



Love a train trip

Happy Saturday

What a fine start to a day. Breakfast with my friend Barbara a friend for more than 25 years. Precious time just her and I. We continued our catch up, started the previous night, on recent happy and sad times, news of other friends, giggles over memories of times past, feelings, thoughts, hopes and aspirations. Lovely. How much I prefer time with just one person to the party scene.


Breakfast. My favourite meal of the day when there’s time. Fruit from a bowl I bought in Poland and carried it and more in hand luggage on my cheap flight, trying not to wince at the weight as I strolled to the gate. Luscious berries.

And on our table the tulips kindly brought the day before. Already overblown. Love them that way.


A stroll in the sunshine along to the Victoria and Albert Museum for an exhibition of Italian fashion since 1945. Wonderous creations beautifully presented and black and white films full of glamour of times gone by. What a treat.




And then to the Barbican for some glorious dance.

Such strength and beauty in their movements. The human body in all it’s glory.

A head and spirit full of inspiring things and all topped up with the love of and for a long time friend. A wonderful Saturday. Lucky me.

Street art


Love some of the creative street art tucked away in parts of London. This was spotted as I was searching for a cafe I didn’t know, to meet up with a friend of 35 years. How I enjoy a late breakfast out. Especially in such fine company.

What a great Sunday. Both the street art and catch up were inspiring.

Anna – an endless source of energy with an unbeatable talent to pull people to her, entrance them with her stories and make them feel all the richer for the encounter.

We don’t meet often enough – far north west Scotland and London are a fair hike apart- but each time tops me up for the months that follow. My turn next to fly to Inverness and take the long and winding road through spectacular landscapes to the west coast and the tiny community of Achmelvich. Unbelievably lovely there.

A first meeting way back when in Morocco and we’re still friends who really care about each other after so many years and countries.

Lucky me.


Flying high


Today I watched a plane high overhead in London, on the descent to Heathrow I imagine. A clear day so I wondered whether they were being treated to the view in the photo, taken on a plane recently.

I love airports, watching all the people, wondering who they are and where they are going. Its sometimes a place of high drama. Balloons and delight greeting some passengers, others anxiously reading cardboard signs for their name, the long haul flighters looking tousled and bemused – economy more tousled than the fresher looking first ones out at the front of the plane. And the departures. Teenage sons keen to get out of their mother’s fond embrace to get through to passport control and to a new life beyond. Passionate kisses, minimal pecks on the cheek, the shake of a hand, a wave not unlike the Queen’s. You see them all. I love all that. Watching it all unfold around me.

And when I see planes in the sky I muse on those in them. On descent the relief of a long journey nearly over, a sadness that a holiday is now done and its back to work all too soon, parents with young children keen to get out of the censorious gaze of those who were deprived of sleep through their children’s sobs that went on just too long. For some a new start in this place, part excitement part anxiety. And when I spot planes ascending I think of all that expectation, settling down and trying to get comfortable, wishing you’d picked another seat or book, checking to see what movies are on, holding tightly the hand of your partner, wondering why the child behind you is already kicking your seat.

Just a plane in the sky and that is enough to set me off on a whole set of imaginings.

How about you?