Street markets are as much a part of London’s heritage as Big Ben or Piccadilly Circus. I myself grew up not far from Romford Market – in London’s East End – so they feel part of my heritage also. I remember our Saturday trips as a child to the market, where everything from clothes to
There’s a special resonance to the twixmas period. It’s a luxurious and languid leftover from the madness of Christmas Day. If you’re lucky enough to get those few days off work it feels like the only time in the year when you can genuinely not feel guilty for simply just lazing around (I often find
I was lucky enough to spend a few unforgettable days last week in Marrakech. It was unforgettable because of the occasion, but also because it reminded me of my own limitations. We were visiting the red city for the first time in celebration of our twenty years wedding anniversary (where did all that time go?).