The Horns – Book One of The Zambezi Trilogy by Jill Baker
This copy was given to me by a friend.
I finished The Horns on a Thursday, and that Friday, the day I set aside to review the book, Mugabe died.
The news hit me like a wave full of debris – no joy, no relief, no anger – it just thudded me on to a shore that was no longer there.
The little boat – metal hull, room for four, and a fine engine – edges out past the sport fishing boats in the harbour to the curves that stretch beyond.
Here, the ‘no wake‘ signs behind us, we accelerate on towards the pale line of the Cape Cod National Seashore.
Blind darts player (thanks to the archives at Blind Veterans UK for the image)
A query landed on The Phraser, linked to a piece I wrote seven years ago about an organisation that supports blind veterans.
No, I thought when I read the question. Surely not.
Then I thought again. If I’ve learnt one thing it’s that you should never underestimate an old soldier.
Here’s the query:
Wheels within Wheels – The Making of a Traveller by Dervla Murphy
I bought this book a while back and then left it sitting in the bottom of a drawer. Bad idea. If there’s anyone who shouldn’t be shut away, it’s Dervla Murphy.
She flew out of the pages.
Seaview on the Isle of Wight
The sun shines, the island is brand new to us, and the day is ours…perfect for a wander. We decide to search for Priory Bay.
“Our favourite, not far, and you can probably get a cup of tea at the hotel there,” was the advice from a frequent visitor to the island.
So off we set, via the High Street and the purchase of a few supplies.
Frances Simpson – Kenyan watercolour artist
‘Interview’ is quite a grand word for what was really a snatch of questions, but I did manage a few. Here’s what I found.
Frances Simpson (known to many as Franny) has painted in watercolour for years, encouraged, she told me, by her husband’s wedding gift to her…a studio.
View of Kilimanjaro on the road to Taveta, near the Tanzanian border with Kenya
We knew Kilimanjaro was there – we’d glimpsed it behind the clouds many times – but the first time we met for real was the day we left.
The early morning was fresh as washing on the line, with the great volcano high in the blue above us all. It was stunning.