A beautiful city full of ghosts and literary history.
A city crossed by the river Lee, long bus rides and the last place where the Titanic stopped before sinking.
The many layers of The Old Smoke
Cafés, the Roman Baths and, of course, Jane Austen
Punting, tea rooms, turrets and parks.
Robin Hood and Sherwood Forest, bars and cafes, mansions and deer.
“Were it not for coffee one could not write, which is to say one could not live.” —Honoré de Balzac “Coffee gives you time to think. It’s a lot more than just a drink; it’s something happening. Not as in hip, but like an event, a place to be, but not like a location, butContinue reading “Were It Not For Coffee…”
“Second-hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack.” —Virginia Woolf Aging and decay are characteristics that generally have a negative connotation. The first is a consequence of the passing of time; the second one,Continue reading “Where the Wild Books Are”