Ghosts of Rahere, Betjeman – pray for me. The world is too much with us, we cannot just swipe away the pixels and the rot. Christ, I can’t even find a decent coffee at 6am in London.
Since Thomas Blood was pardoned by the king for trying to make off with the Crown Jewels, it seems a small imposture to act tourist and cross the Liberties in…
Having heard the tales of Huguenots and Dumas’ fictional Count imprisoned there, we sail from Vieux-Port to Château d’If, that brittle limestone white against the blue.
Where Eden, Caldew and smooth Petteril meet, sits England’s northmost city: Cumbrian Carlisle. The Scottish border’s close; while within reach, The Solway Firth, the Pennines and the Lakes. A border…