Notes on…
The touching traces of the past in church visitors’ books
I am memorialised twice in my village church. Not in some premature lapidary way, but in the visitors’ book. The…
Hang on to your hat – they’re making a comeback
‘Thank goodness for racing,’ says Rachel Trevor-Morgan. She is a milliner — a hat maker — so it’s no surprise…
From Amazon to Waitrose: how do companies get their names?
Poor Mr Bergstresser. He put up the money to start the financial reporting company but his name wasn’t as snappy…
The magic of the Chelsea Flower Show
Chelsea, the most famous flower show in the world, pulled in its devotees once more this week, with its accustomed…
How do Britain’s pubs get their names?
An easy one: what links Jack Straw’s Castle, The Labouring Boys and The Jolly Taxpayer? No, not the parliamentary expenses…
Windermere, a voyage into Swallows and Amazons
‘A love of boats and sailing is the surest of all passports to a happy life,’ wrote Arthur Ransome. Standing…
Scilly season: Shipwrecks, seclusion and Harold Wilson’s house
‘You can get away from everything,’ said Harold Wilson of the Isles of Scilly, ‘not only in distance but also…
The weird and wacky world of Goop
The other day, as I walked with my partner through Notting Hill, we came across a shop which deserves to…
The holy pedigree of cats
It is claimed that the prophet Muhammad loved cats. His favourite was called Muezza and he would do without his…
Celebrities, cars and chickens: Inside the Connaught hotel
You may have noticed the Connaught a little more since 2011, when ‘Silence’, the steamy fountain by Japanese ‘architect philosopher’ Tadao…
Newmarket, where the fastest horses in the world thunder past
Standing on Warren Hill in the morning mist, watching Britain’s finest thoroughbreds thunder past, you realise what makes Newmarket so…
Rhubarb: the most eccentrically British fruit
The tale of forced Yorkshire rhubarb has the makings of a David Lean film. Frosty Slavic beginnings, wartime devotion, steam…
The triumphant return of the British beaver
I know a magical West Country woodland where a sunlit stream meanders through the great oaks, with a series of…
The unique, bittersweet beauty of Irish ruins
The Celtic Tiger has come and gone. Over the past 30 years, billions of pounds poured into Irish houses and…
It may seem incredible, but I’d trust an Italian over a Frenchman any day
For a few years before coming to Italy, I lived in Paris and I cannot tell you the life-enhancing difference…
‘Too English, bizarre, and what are the rules again?’: Cricket in Buenos Aires
For most Latin Americans, who are themselves no strangers to sporting eccentricity, cricket remains a baffling proposition. The game is…
Everyone hates Maggi Hambling’s ‘Scallop’ – but I love it
Benjamin Britten was adamant that he did not want any memorial sculpture of himself in Aldeburgh, the Suffolk coastal town…
The eerie beauty of London’s abandoned Tube stops
If you’ve ever travelled on London’s Piccadilly Line, you may have noticed that on the stretch between Green Park and…
The teeth-chattering joys of cold-water swimming
The woman on the path has come to a dead stop. She’d been shuffling along in that bunched-up posture we…
The big difference between a pile of stones and Piles of Stones
There are piles of stones and then there are piles of stones. Anyone can place one rock upon another, but…
In Constable’s ascension, Jesus just looks quite awkward
Constable painted only three religious paintings, and when you see the one in St Mary’s Church in Dedham you realise…
In praise of Booths, the north’s answer to Waitrose
If you mention the word ‘Booths’ anywhere south of Knutsford, you will usually be met with a blank expression, followed…
The homesick Brit’s guide to Paris
‘Yes, it’s here!’ says the sign above the English épicerie in Paris. ‘Yes, at last,’ thinks the starved expat wandering…
Julie Burchill: Why I’ve given up cocaine
It always amuses me at this time of year to observe the fuss people make about quitting booze for a…
After five days of being snowed in, awe and wonder starts to wear off
It took three hours for cabin fever to set in. Last Christmas, snowed in at the Oxfordshire homestead, my brother…
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