There’s one thing I noticed about Cornwall is that the light is brighter. I thought it was my imagination until I was enlightened by a wonderful German fella called Chris who happens to be a photographer.Â He said it’s because Cornwall is surrounded by sea, the water reflects light back at all angles Continue reading May in a brightly crisp Blighty
What amazes me about the car in this picture is how little of it is left after being burnt out, and how Continue reading Burnt Out
Paris is gloriously sunny this weekend so I updated a few websites this morning, then headed up Continue reading The Perfect Spring Day
When I found my seat on the Eurostar I found a family of four were occupying all of the four seats in a cluster including mine. What happens is that one kid goes free so the train company just doesn’t give them a seat, no wonder people stop breeding. I felt so guilty about turfing a kid out of my seat that I went and sat in one of the corridor seats near the luggage. This inspired people to come and visit their baggage at regular intervals as a loitering fellow in the luggage bays is a sure sign of mischief.
And don’t get me started on the name ‘Eurostar’. Â Due to ego’s that cannot put up with anything that sounds vaguely English or French we have to name everything Â ‘Euro’ around here, like the Eurofighter or even more off the cuff the ‘Euro’. How about the ‘florin’ or for the train the ‘flyer’ in a multiple of languages depending on the day of the week. Or let’s choose another language and name everything in that, that’d make the Vulcans happy now wouldn’t it.
So I arrive and take a saunter in the sun from Le Gare Du Nord up to Stalingrad (now there is an example of naming things in a foreign language) and sat down at the end of Le Basin de Villette to dine on Steak and chips – french style of course with loads of sauce and artichoke salad. Opposite me some North Africans had made a home out of cardboard boxes and looked quite happy milling about dealing drugs and sipping on coffee in the afternoon sun.
So this is springtime in Paris, it’s getting to be a yearly event (coming here in Springtime not springtime itself of course) and so my days on the planet will now be measured in Springtimes as a birds life is measured in migrations with winter spent ambling to Australia and back through S.E.Asia and summer in old blighty. I’m bored already – I might have to try interstellar travel – or did I do that one in my teens, I can’t remember.
I arrived back to London on the morning of the 14th of Feb with nothing but a short sleeved shirt to keep the British winter out. I took a few of the blankets from the plane and wrapped myself up on the journey home looking like Clint Eastwood in my Ozzie hat and blankets.
Its not long before I was back into work mode with my head down, raising my head above water to look around and wake for a moment.
I decided to go to Cornwall to shake off this desire to work and frolic in the spring waves.
Then down to the the wye valley where the spring starts.
Travelling and working is not a new thing, we used to have Continue reading Remote Working
And so from the perfectly groomed little airport on Tioman I head back to an orderly Singapore where even the buildings have giant numbers so they won’t lose themselves. From there I get on the 23.25 plane to London and a winters chill. I’m looking forward to it really as I have been away for long enough.
At the North end of Salang Beach the footpath winds up past an impressive abandoned bungalow complex. I say impressive becuase the bungalows cling to the steep slopes teetering on high thin legs and actually blend into the hillside quite well.
The path quickly turns to a winding jungle camino that follows the electricity cables that come from the islands capital.
My T-shirt was soon turned into a sopping rag as the humidity and the heat took their toll, but after a good hike up and down you come to the deserted white sand beach of Monkey Bay.
At Monkey Bay I stripped my sopping clothes and skinny dipped in the cooler waters of the sea, floating around I could look back at the jungle wrapped around the bay like a shawl.
Continuing on was an easier walk even if the distance was farther as the slopes became kinder. Monkeys followed me in the trees making sure I wasn’t up to no good, monitor lizards scurried out of my way and I teased tree snakes with sticks as butterflies flapped dreamily around as if in an opium den. The noise is hypnotic in the jungle, a constant rythm that has kept us entertained for all time, before the electronic rythms this was our melody and it has stayed fresh.
Eventually the path reaches habitation again and after another set of stairs and a hill reaches the long arc of a bay that the small airport sits on. I came across a fellow I knew was from Salang and hitched a ride back in his boat along with his son that he was accompanying from school. Perfect timing for the perfect day.
I love the fact that Tioman has a heart of solid jungle that can be explored, but must be respected. I spent a long time on Koh Tao in Thailand but found the fact that it had evolved from one vast coconut plantation had left it featureless in it’s interior, but Tioman still has the monkeys, monitor lizards, butterflies snakes and everything that goes with this hemisphere and location.