No Sacred Cows
Scepticism served medium rare
Category: France
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I spent a night recently at the Sofitel Le Faubourg in Paris, invited by someone I am very fond of and respect. The hotel is next door to the American Embassy, in that small and polished part of the city where wealth, power, diplomacy and fashion seem to have gathered together for mutual reassurance. Approaching…
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British tabloids once claimed expats were “fleeing France in droves.” The truth? Most stayed – for sanity, not sunshine. From Provence to Thailand, I found perspective. And as for returning to 2025 Britain, with neo-fascists leading the polls – non, merci.
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Well, if one must wait for a delayed TGV, this is surely how to do it – sinking into a leather armchair beneath chandeliers and gilt, in the quiet splendour of Le Train Bleu. 10€ may seem steep for a double shot of caffeine – even a Finca El Platanillo 100% Guatemalan Arabica, cultivated at…
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Sometimes the best way to silence the newsfeed, the static, the murk of thought, is to lace up your shoes and head for higher ground. This morning, I did just that – setting off early with my indefatigable four-legged companion, Glo, for a fast 9.6 km hike through the garrigue behind the Colline Saint-Jacques in…
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A wry look at the British dream of Provençal life, from sun-drenched optimism to bureaucratic reality – and what became of one couple’s costly escape to the French countryside.
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Take your pick – CouchSurfing, HelpX, WWOOFing. Different acronyms, same broad principle: a kind of barter network for the twenty-first century wanderer. Travellers exchange their labour, skills, or mere enthusiasm for food, lodging, and a taste of local life. No money changes hands – just goodwill, elbow grease, and a pinch of cultural curiosity. CouchSurfing…
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New Year’s Eve. The local hunters were out in force, already well into their celebrations and firing potshots at anything that moved faster than a snail. Fortunately for the region’s fauna (including us), most creatures with the good sense to keep their heads down survived intact. The kids and I managed the hundred-metre dash from…
No Sacred Cows 