Sweet Fennel, Pure Silver

On March 19, 2016April 3, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Ibiza, Life, Travel/vacationsLeave a comment

P1070497 The first thing that struck me was the dogs. They were everywhere.

A meeting place of Las Dalias in the heart of the Ibizan countryside for the Silver Mines Walk had a group of about 30 of us gathered to tackle the14km jaunt ahead. Collies, a Basset hound, a few smaller dogs whose breed I couldn’t identify, and a small white rough haired puppy accompanied us.

Attached to their owners by leads on the side of this busy road they were eager to be off. Greeting each other sometimes tentatively with a sniff here, a nose rub there, the occasional growl – overall blatant friskiness and exuberance was the shared canine mood.

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Taxi ride

On March 10, 2016March 10, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Life, LondonLeave a comment

FullSizeRender 23 I hopped into an Uber. One of my first. Would the driver be ‘black cab’ chatty, or would the whole process of booking a car through a phone app remove that human element?

I sat back appreciating clear blue skies after another frosty London night. Glorious sunshine encouraged conversation and I couldn’t resist on reverting to that classic opening line.

“Oh yes, it’s beautiful alright. How long will it last though?” said Afonso.
“Well, I guess we get the good and the bad, the latter makes you appreciate the first – right?” I commented.
“Oh yeah, that was brought home to me very recently by my son.” I caught his eye in the mirror.

I’ve had a notion to ask an Uber driver his story for a while now and this was my chance. How had he come about this work I wondered and had he always been a cab driver?

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Blackberries and tea

On March 3, 2016March 3, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Food and drinks, LifeLeave a comment

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For my Mum.

“I can’t understand why it’s so hard to find tea cosies, or tea caddies for that matter” I said to M, as we meandered through the streets of Oxfordshire in search of either.

Our first stop was the local hardware store. “You might find something in here” M said, as the ding ding of the door sounded.

I’ve always loved a hardware store. The utilitarian nature of the ambiance – to say nothing of the products is deeply appealing. Bygone weekly Saturday morning trips to one of the most interesting shops in small town Ireland may be partly responsible. I’d cycle in, eagerly anticipating what I would find there. My trusty Dawes bicycle left to lean up against the shopfront window, I’d open the door to wood-infused scents, the steel of nails and screws, drawers and aisles of everything you could possibly need to do and fix with under a ceiling that seemed endless.

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A meeting of minds

On February 25, 2016February 25, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Art, Life, LondonLeave a comment

I arrived five minutes early and asked the librarian where the writing group was meeting. She pointed to a corner where two elderly people sat – one reading the newspaper, another with a large stack of books indicating fervent research. “It starts at six thirty – right – until eight?” I asked.
“Yes” she said.

Ten minutes passed. Not much was happening. The same two people still sat at the table. I asked again. “Oh, the group doesn’t usually turn up ‘til about seven” she told me.
I held her gaze, wondering why this information had been slow to materialise. “Are they part of the group?” I asked pointing at the corner.
“No, they’re in the wrong place. There should be a sign on that table to indicate that they have to move.”
“Oh, yes, I saw one, but it said something about a reading group.”
“That’s the wrong sign. I’m just making one now” she replied. Continue reading “A meeting of minds” →

For Sir Terry Wogan

On February 12, 2016February 12, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Entertainment, Life, London, People you may have heard ofLeave a comment

Snorkers chomping; tennis balls popping; cones stopping; poisoned dwarf on windswept patio; Abba’s arrival, nurtured my thriving.

A chemist in Great Portland Street, a ‘Hello Terry’ from me,

a glance upwards from where you sought something on a shelf below,

‘Hello’ back with a warm smile.

To now.

Pips on time.

Missing is your grace, and a wit that celebrated our foibles in so many elegant and kindly ways.