Remembering Gallipoli
The sense of overwhelming loneliness is what I remember most. Just row upon row of flat marble headstones, flanked by cypress trees and watched over by…
A Christmas pudding made with love
The pudding bowl is on the table, filled with luscious dried fruit and glace cherries, soaked in rum. As my daughter and I arrive for the…
My love affair with London
“When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life.” So wrote the 18th century essayist and poet Samuel Johnson. He could easily have…
Buying into the ‘burqa’ debate
At the back of my wardrobe, in a place that no-one ever sees, hangs a shiny voluminous black cloak. It’s an abaya – or what many…
A letter to my sister
Dear Anne, This was a day a long time coming. Your family had been planning it for a while but suddenly the timing was perfect. It…
Memories of a dogsitter (For Ollie)
For six wonderful weeks at a time when my heart and mind needed space and serenity, dear friends allowed me to look after their house and…
Home…where the heart is
I’ve just moved house. Something to be done as infrequently as possible, if you want my post-move opinion. It’s less than two years since I last…
Hunting for a new home
Tentatively, I have dipped my toe into the piranha pool that is the real estate market. Yes, I am looking for a new home. Now settled…
We will remember them
Tomorrow – like tens of thousands of other people in Australia and New Zealand, and other places too – I’ll be getting up early. I’ll pin…
Goodbye Frommer’s, I’ll miss you
After more than a decade of writing for the US-based guide book company Frommer’s, I learned this week that the popular titles that have accompanied travellers…
A Glass Half Full 