The days spent dreaming of a future

And say then, that was my life.

For the days are long –

From the first milk van

To the last shout in the night,

An eternity. But the weeks go by

Like birds; and the years, the years

Fly past anti-clockwise

Like clock hands in a bar mirror

J.P. Donleavy’s Dublin, by Derek Mahon


The adventures of Max Senior

Next month, I have a birthday that ends in a zero. I’ve been casting around for some sort of project to mark this occasion, and two recent transport developments have, I hope, put me on the right track (or tracks). Firstly, since the start of this year, Railcoop, a new railway co-operative, has been offering…

‘Do you want Parmesan?’

Sharp-eyed readers will have noticed that, after Turin, my travels through Italy went by without any mention. There are various reasons for this, the most significant being chronic bone idleness on my part. We have now been back in Poitiers for two weeks, and already the trip is receding quickly from my memory. In order…

A post-card from Rome

For the past ten years or so, our holidays have consisted entirely of weekend breaks, four nights maximum, in some British or European city. As a result, this month-long trip to Italy has taken a bit of getting used to. The first week was very strange, as it consisted of four short city breaks jammed…

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