I've had nearly a month in Hawaii now. That's a month of space in a place where there's surprisingly little to do. (Actually, there are quite a few things to do but many of them cost a small fortune - and frankly, the food prices are crippling my budget without any assistance from Fun Stuff.)
It means I've had a chance to do even more thinking than usual - possibly a dangerous thing - and catch up with a few people I hadn't been in touch with for a while (albeit while accommodating irritating time zones). And through it all, I've come up with a bunch of random comments that I wanted to throw out to the world in general. Apply it to your own life or not as you see fit, they're not directed at specific individuals. Note: I'll refer to 'guys' and 'girls' in a particular way because hell, I'm a straight female. I can't be bothered to do the PC thing and write every variation on a theme. Just stick in the gender that applies to your situation.
- if you don't have the possibility of being around a dog and interacting with it for significant portions of Every Single Day, don't own one. It's a simple rule. You might be able to stick a kid in front of an XBox for an entire afternoon, but not a dog.
- if you choose to stick your kid in front of an XBox for an entire afternoon, don't be surprised when I'm not nuts about your parenting skills. As a non-parent, I'm apparently not entitled to have any opinions on parenting because 'you haven't been there, man'. By that token, unless you have a PhD on the subject you're talking about, shut up because you clearly don't know enough about it to warrant an opinion.
- if your child is a nice person, I'll probably like them. If they aren't - if they're manipulative or rude or unkind or just plain boring - I probably won't. I think it's criminal when parents bring up their kids to NOT be nice people. That's your job. Not the job of teachers, yours. In my mind, a child is a person: I'm allowed to choose whether or not I like people. Why is this so gosh darn horrendous when I extend the same 'limitation' to a child?
- if you think you've been abandoned, maybe you abandoned them. Maybe they think they were available one too many times, maybe generous one too many times. Maybe they feel used and fed up and frustrated, and just tired of the fact you never, ever ask how they're doing.
- if your guy is making you unhappy, leave. No 'ifs and buts', just leave. You should never, ever have to ask someone to change for you; they should want to make the changes anyway because you are important enough to them. No amount of the second part of this statement, 'I won't change - but oh my goodness, you are beautiful and wonderful and make my life complete' can make up for the first part. I've played both sides of that game. If someone won't change, they just aren't that into you. Period.
- if you think 'so and so's life is easy', well, you're probably wrong. This applies to everyone you meet in life: in some way or another, everyone is fighting a battle. Stop being bitter because their life seems to be 'easier' than yours. It's just different. All of us have battles we are hiding from the world.
- if you promise somebody something, stick to that promise. Don't lie. Don't put yourself in a position whereby you 'have' to lie. Nothing good comes of lying.
- if you can't enjoy the good things that are happening in your friends' lives, maybe that's your problem, not theirs. Revel in the positives that happen for them, because if something good is going on in your life you'd want them to revel in it with you. Don't make everything about you all the time.
- if somebody asks for your help, consider what it might have taken for them to be able to do that. Asking for help is really hard for some people. However big or small a thing it is, try and do it. You'll be a better person for it.
- if you know somebody going through a specifically tough time, ask them: 'how are you doing today?' Not, 'how are you doing', but add that 'today' in there. It acknowledges so much more about their reality.
- if you feel trapped, get out. This applies to relationships, to work, to countries, to anything. Chances are, if things have been bad for a while they're going to stay that way. Be proactive. Or quit complaining.
- if you are part of a family, eat meals together. Not on your knees in front of a TV, but at a table. Why is that such a strange and awkward expectation in today's world?
"Practice random acts of kindness, and senseless acts of beauty."
Friday, July 24, 2015
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Ranting at Three
Dear Sir/Madam,
Re: disconnection of Three services
I returned from the Emerald Isle yesterday morning – Ireland, sorely lacking in promised leprechauns – where, I was delighted to note prior to departure, I would be able to use my UK Three phone thanks to your 'Feel at Home' service. Since I anticipated the need to make a few phonecalls when there and check emails every now and then, it really was an excellent opportunity to take advantage of this service. To be on the safe side, I called 333 from my phone before I left and checked with a decidedly chatty individual whether or not my phone would work abroad. 'Yes', he confirmed. 'Go forth and phone!' (or words to that effect).
You can imagine my surprise and confusion, therefore, when I landed in Limerick airport on a decidedly freezing morning to discover that my phone would not work. It found no network. After a good deal of glaring, turning off and on again, and threatening to hurl the phone from the car window (the holy trinity of Fixing Phones, I'd say) I happened upon a Three store in Nenagh. The girl in there, burdened in a similar manner as I was at the time with a stinking cold, was incredibly helpful and managed to use the store phone to get in touch with the UK Three team.
And here is where I started to uncover a decidedly devious plot on your company's part. I was informed that no, my phone would not work abroad – despite earlier assurances by aforementioned chatty individual – and indeed I had been disconnected for 'abusing the Feel at Home service' (there's a lovely irony to that particular expression, I think you'll agree). Moreover, there was no way of reconnecting me.
Why, I asked, had I been disconnected? I appreciate that over the past eight months or so I have more often than not been abroad: France and Italy featured on there, along with Hong Kong, Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore, and China. Some of those are included in the 'Feel at Home' service (I'm sure you know which, but just to clarify: Malaysia, Singapore and China are not) and I was delighted to note that, should I wish, I could therefore use my phone abroad at remarkably little expense or inconvenience. There would be no traipsing around looking for a Sim in every country I visited.
For many years now, I have been armed with a Nokia 3310 – a solid piece of engineering that stands up to the sort of treatment I throw at it. It is bounced around on a bike and crushed mercilessly into the smallest corner of a rucsac on a regular basis, and yet it persists in working. The battery life is incredible. Frankly, it's a gem. It is just about possible to use it to access my emails (and, on particularly whimsical days, Facebook) but that is pretty much where my use of it stops. Since I'm ordinarily in a location with WiFi and my iPad, I haven't really bothered to use these facilities. The occasional text letting my long-suffering mother know that I've arrived in yet another far-off land, and the even more rare phonecall (invariably to rant about an airline, or some such thing – mother also has a Three phone, much as she loathes the company, in order that we can take advantage of the free calls between our mobiles).
In France and Italy, I barely touched the thing except to make texts to international numbers which – as you well know – do not get to take advantage of 'Feel at Home' tariffs. Rather, I was charged fairly exorbitant sums for these texts but no matter, they kept me in contact with the outside world. In Hong Kong, I think you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone without a Smartphone, and subsequently I became a bit of a social pariah since nobody wanted to contact me while having to pay for it. Look what WhatsApp has done to friendship.
I remember landing in Indonesia and making a brief call as I hurtled along in a taxi in the pitch dark to what I thought must be my certain doom. And then I went to Lombok, which is an absolutely stunning island and the perfect place in every way – including the fact there is zero phone reception there. Zero. Not only is there no reception, I went wandering around the island on my little scooter for a few weeks and completely forgot to take my beloved Nokia 3310 with me anyway. It lay there, unused, untouched, for the best part of two months.
Much against my plans, I was forced to return to Hong Kong for a few days in order to sort out a few banking issues there. I don't remember turning my phone on while in the city, but perhaps I did. All I know is that on 17th March I trotted up to China and my phone wouldn't work. Fairly obviously, I blamed the Chinese government. Blaming the government in the UK is one thing; blaming it in China is quite another. China is decidedly against people contacting the outside world, so I thought they were probably responsible for my phone-related misery at that point.
At some point in this missive, I should have noted that I am a single female traveller. I have lived and travelled around the world for the best part of ten years now and, touching every piece of wood currently in view, nothing spectacularly untoward has happened to me yet. This could perhaps be because I'm generally a practical individual, who always takes such sensible measures as arming herself with a working mobile phone.
Imagine this, then. I'm standing in a Three store in Nenagh in Ireland, being informed that I had been sent a 'notification' on 8th March (possibly the 6th, the exact date eludes me for the moment) informing me that I would be cut off from 17th March for – as I said before – abusing the terms of the 'Feel at Home' policy. A notification that I could never have received because I was using a Nokia 3310, something I imagine Three could well have been aware of since every time I've called your helpline you've always seemed to know that fact. Why is it you bombard me with irrelevant Three text messages at merry intervals, but you felt the need to send this rather important message as a 'notification' that could never arrive?
The funny thing is I have recently learned the difference between a 'notification' and a 'text' by merit of the fact I was given an old iPhone. Upon returning to the UK, I went into the Three store in Oxford to ask them to give me a new sim so that I could activate my whizzy new Smartphone (with the all-important WhatsApp so that I would no longer be a social pariah...). A Nokia 3310, you see, takes a Sim the size of a dinner plate. I paid £5 to get a Sim with my much-cherished number associated with it. I should note that the man who served me in the store was rude, patronising, unhelpful, and fundamentally wrong when it came to certain points about 'add-ons' but frankly those failings of his personality pale into insignificance when set alongside what Three as a company has done to me.
I have been with you for the best part of fourteen years now. I have had no complaints against you (apart from your generally useless coverage anywhere I appear to want to live in the UK) and have actually, thanks to never changing my number, been given work on the basis of a CV passed out four years beforehand. You see why I'm reluctant to change it? Who knows what might not be allowed to happen?!
Yet you have now put me in a ridiculous position. More to the point, you put me in an unsafe position. Three left me without access to a phone in China, with no way of knowing that this would happen, and with no explanation. Further to that, an individual at Three informed me my phone would indeed work abroad when clearly it would not.
As far as I can see, there are a few things due to me from Three:
- an apology. A sincere, fairly lengthy apology. I did not abuse any 'terms of service'; go and check exactly how many texts I sent or how many calls I made and try to justify that to any sane individual as 'abuse'. I have looked at the terms as detailed on your website. Read them, and try applying those to my situation and you'll see how ludicrous it is
- my phone to be restored to being a functional device that will work beyond UK shores. It's cold here and, quite frankly, I don't plan on being round much. I don't deliberately visit 'Feel at Home' countries, you know. You just have an awful lot of them.
- another apology. Because in this instance, one isn't enough. Frankly, you should be extraordinarily grateful that nothing happened to me in China during those few weeks I was without a phone because if it had, your company could have been held responsible. All because you were foolish enough to send a 'notification' to a non-notification compliant breed of phone.
I should note that, as I promised the individual I spoke to over the phone from the Three store in Nenagh, I have remarkably little to do this Summer and have all the time in the world to write to you or other potentially interested parties.
I would ask you to phone me to discuss the situation but unfortunately, I'm not actually sure my number works. Why? Because I had to buy a new Sim in Ireland in order to be able to make calls while I was there, and the girl in the store 'helpfully' sellotaped my UK Sim onto a piece of card so I wouldn't lose it. If only she had put the sellotape on the less-important plastic-only side... You can write to me at this address, or you can find me at the end of *********@gmail.com. If I don't hear back within a fortnight (30th April by my reckoning) you can rest assured that I will write again. And again. Ad infinitum.
In summary, the salient facts are these:
- without notifying me, you stopped my phone from functioning. This is in the first instance annoying, in the second dangerous and irresponsible.
- your website says that PAYG customers 'need to buy an Add-on... If you don't, you'll be charged at our special lower roaming rates'. I don't recall buying Add-ons that I actually used while abroad.
- 'If you exceed the allowances... when you're abroad in any two calendar months within a rolling 12 month period...'. I didn't. I never exceeded allowances; I'm on PAYG and can't.
- 'Feel at Home' is intended for our UK customers who are visiting... for short trips, like holidays or business trips.' My definition of 'holiday' or 'business trip' evidently differs from yours.
- '...this happens in any three months in a 12 month period, we may suspend international roaming on your account...'. I might have been abroad, but I wasn't using my phone. Punishing me for that is absolutely unnecessary and inappropriate. The use of the word 'may' implies a warning will be given. A warning was not given, because I was not capable of receiving it. That is your responsibility, not mine. I and the rest of the world do not need to be equipped with Smartphones for your convenience.
- Your terms constantly reference data usage. You can see how little I used. Look at my records.
You have until 30th April to send an appropriate reply. Without that response, I will either contact you again or some other potentially interested parties.
Yours faithfully,
Jane Thomas
Re: disconnection of Three services
I returned from the Emerald Isle yesterday morning – Ireland, sorely lacking in promised leprechauns – where, I was delighted to note prior to departure, I would be able to use my UK Three phone thanks to your 'Feel at Home' service. Since I anticipated the need to make a few phonecalls when there and check emails every now and then, it really was an excellent opportunity to take advantage of this service. To be on the safe side, I called 333 from my phone before I left and checked with a decidedly chatty individual whether or not my phone would work abroad. 'Yes', he confirmed. 'Go forth and phone!' (or words to that effect).
You can imagine my surprise and confusion, therefore, when I landed in Limerick airport on a decidedly freezing morning to discover that my phone would not work. It found no network. After a good deal of glaring, turning off and on again, and threatening to hurl the phone from the car window (the holy trinity of Fixing Phones, I'd say) I happened upon a Three store in Nenagh. The girl in there, burdened in a similar manner as I was at the time with a stinking cold, was incredibly helpful and managed to use the store phone to get in touch with the UK Three team.
And here is where I started to uncover a decidedly devious plot on your company's part. I was informed that no, my phone would not work abroad – despite earlier assurances by aforementioned chatty individual – and indeed I had been disconnected for 'abusing the Feel at Home service' (there's a lovely irony to that particular expression, I think you'll agree). Moreover, there was no way of reconnecting me.
Why, I asked, had I been disconnected? I appreciate that over the past eight months or so I have more often than not been abroad: France and Italy featured on there, along with Hong Kong, Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore, and China. Some of those are included in the 'Feel at Home' service (I'm sure you know which, but just to clarify: Malaysia, Singapore and China are not) and I was delighted to note that, should I wish, I could therefore use my phone abroad at remarkably little expense or inconvenience. There would be no traipsing around looking for a Sim in every country I visited.
For many years now, I have been armed with a Nokia 3310 – a solid piece of engineering that stands up to the sort of treatment I throw at it. It is bounced around on a bike and crushed mercilessly into the smallest corner of a rucsac on a regular basis, and yet it persists in working. The battery life is incredible. Frankly, it's a gem. It is just about possible to use it to access my emails (and, on particularly whimsical days, Facebook) but that is pretty much where my use of it stops. Since I'm ordinarily in a location with WiFi and my iPad, I haven't really bothered to use these facilities. The occasional text letting my long-suffering mother know that I've arrived in yet another far-off land, and the even more rare phonecall (invariably to rant about an airline, or some such thing – mother also has a Three phone, much as she loathes the company, in order that we can take advantage of the free calls between our mobiles).
In France and Italy, I barely touched the thing except to make texts to international numbers which – as you well know – do not get to take advantage of 'Feel at Home' tariffs. Rather, I was charged fairly exorbitant sums for these texts but no matter, they kept me in contact with the outside world. In Hong Kong, I think you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone without a Smartphone, and subsequently I became a bit of a social pariah since nobody wanted to contact me while having to pay for it. Look what WhatsApp has done to friendship.
I remember landing in Indonesia and making a brief call as I hurtled along in a taxi in the pitch dark to what I thought must be my certain doom. And then I went to Lombok, which is an absolutely stunning island and the perfect place in every way – including the fact there is zero phone reception there. Zero. Not only is there no reception, I went wandering around the island on my little scooter for a few weeks and completely forgot to take my beloved Nokia 3310 with me anyway. It lay there, unused, untouched, for the best part of two months.
Much against my plans, I was forced to return to Hong Kong for a few days in order to sort out a few banking issues there. I don't remember turning my phone on while in the city, but perhaps I did. All I know is that on 17th March I trotted up to China and my phone wouldn't work. Fairly obviously, I blamed the Chinese government. Blaming the government in the UK is one thing; blaming it in China is quite another. China is decidedly against people contacting the outside world, so I thought they were probably responsible for my phone-related misery at that point.
At some point in this missive, I should have noted that I am a single female traveller. I have lived and travelled around the world for the best part of ten years now and, touching every piece of wood currently in view, nothing spectacularly untoward has happened to me yet. This could perhaps be because I'm generally a practical individual, who always takes such sensible measures as arming herself with a working mobile phone.
Imagine this, then. I'm standing in a Three store in Nenagh in Ireland, being informed that I had been sent a 'notification' on 8th March (possibly the 6th, the exact date eludes me for the moment) informing me that I would be cut off from 17th March for – as I said before – abusing the terms of the 'Feel at Home' policy. A notification that I could never have received because I was using a Nokia 3310, something I imagine Three could well have been aware of since every time I've called your helpline you've always seemed to know that fact. Why is it you bombard me with irrelevant Three text messages at merry intervals, but you felt the need to send this rather important message as a 'notification' that could never arrive?
The funny thing is I have recently learned the difference between a 'notification' and a 'text' by merit of the fact I was given an old iPhone. Upon returning to the UK, I went into the Three store in Oxford to ask them to give me a new sim so that I could activate my whizzy new Smartphone (with the all-important WhatsApp so that I would no longer be a social pariah...). A Nokia 3310, you see, takes a Sim the size of a dinner plate. I paid £5 to get a Sim with my much-cherished number associated with it. I should note that the man who served me in the store was rude, patronising, unhelpful, and fundamentally wrong when it came to certain points about 'add-ons' but frankly those failings of his personality pale into insignificance when set alongside what Three as a company has done to me.
I have been with you for the best part of fourteen years now. I have had no complaints against you (apart from your generally useless coverage anywhere I appear to want to live in the UK) and have actually, thanks to never changing my number, been given work on the basis of a CV passed out four years beforehand. You see why I'm reluctant to change it? Who knows what might not be allowed to happen?!
Yet you have now put me in a ridiculous position. More to the point, you put me in an unsafe position. Three left me without access to a phone in China, with no way of knowing that this would happen, and with no explanation. Further to that, an individual at Three informed me my phone would indeed work abroad when clearly it would not.
As far as I can see, there are a few things due to me from Three:
- an apology. A sincere, fairly lengthy apology. I did not abuse any 'terms of service'; go and check exactly how many texts I sent or how many calls I made and try to justify that to any sane individual as 'abuse'. I have looked at the terms as detailed on your website. Read them, and try applying those to my situation and you'll see how ludicrous it is
- my phone to be restored to being a functional device that will work beyond UK shores. It's cold here and, quite frankly, I don't plan on being round much. I don't deliberately visit 'Feel at Home' countries, you know. You just have an awful lot of them.
- another apology. Because in this instance, one isn't enough. Frankly, you should be extraordinarily grateful that nothing happened to me in China during those few weeks I was without a phone because if it had, your company could have been held responsible. All because you were foolish enough to send a 'notification' to a non-notification compliant breed of phone.
I should note that, as I promised the individual I spoke to over the phone from the Three store in Nenagh, I have remarkably little to do this Summer and have all the time in the world to write to you or other potentially interested parties.
I would ask you to phone me to discuss the situation but unfortunately, I'm not actually sure my number works. Why? Because I had to buy a new Sim in Ireland in order to be able to make calls while I was there, and the girl in the store 'helpfully' sellotaped my UK Sim onto a piece of card so I wouldn't lose it. If only she had put the sellotape on the less-important plastic-only side... You can write to me at this address, or you can find me at the end of *********@gmail.com. If I don't hear back within a fortnight (30th April by my reckoning) you can rest assured that I will write again. And again. Ad infinitum.
In summary, the salient facts are these:
- without notifying me, you stopped my phone from functioning. This is in the first instance annoying, in the second dangerous and irresponsible.
- your website says that PAYG customers 'need to buy an Add-on... If you don't, you'll be charged at our special lower roaming rates'. I don't recall buying Add-ons that I actually used while abroad.
- 'If you exceed the allowances... when you're abroad in any two calendar months within a rolling 12 month period...'. I didn't. I never exceeded allowances; I'm on PAYG and can't.
- 'Feel at Home' is intended for our UK customers who are visiting... for short trips, like holidays or business trips.' My definition of 'holiday' or 'business trip' evidently differs from yours.
- '...this happens in any three months in a 12 month period, we may suspend international roaming on your account...'. I might have been abroad, but I wasn't using my phone. Punishing me for that is absolutely unnecessary and inappropriate. The use of the word 'may' implies a warning will be given. A warning was not given, because I was not capable of receiving it. That is your responsibility, not mine. I and the rest of the world do not need to be equipped with Smartphones for your convenience.
- Your terms constantly reference data usage. You can see how little I used. Look at my records.
You have until 30th April to send an appropriate reply. Without that response, I will either contact you again or some other potentially interested parties.
Yours faithfully,
Jane Thomas
Sunday, January 19, 2014
On redefining respect
After a knackering few days, I collapsed in a heap at lunchtime with three episodes of this ludicrous yet worryingly addictive show. [Incidentally, it's fairly ironic that they drag episodes out to such an extent, while constantly making the observation that all the contestants previously sat around watching TV. I think they should introduce a little person in the corner of the screen who is working out in a sitting room, and all those watching can follow along. Makes much more sense.]
At some point this afternoon, I think all those ridiculous comments sunk into me. Hell, is there actually something in this American approach after all?? I had an epiphany, admittedly about 15 years later than I should have done, but still. It came.
An important point before I reveal this epiphany: the majority of you regard me as an outstandingly negative and pessimistic individual. I'm really not, nor have I ever been. I'm remarkably optimistic, in fact, and have a tendency to see the good in people far before I see the bad.
That's relevant, because with every single relationship I've had I have dismissed or overlooked major issues – purely by saying to myself, 'oh, but he gets THIS bit right.' Here are some things I have put up with from exes, and these are in no particular order:
he told me I was too fat and needed to lose weight
he told me I was too thin and needed to gain weight
he waited for me to go to sleep at night, and then talked with other women online. He met up with at least one of them
he became drunk and verbally abused me
he became drunk and was physically threatening, refusing to leave me alone even as I tried to push him away
he became drunk and tried to rape me
he slept with me, then told me he was getting back together with his ex
he slept with me days after I found out my mum had cancer, then told me he wanted nothing more to do with me
he went on a date with an ex while he was going out with me, and even asked me for cash to take with him on that date
he went on holiday with another girl while dating me, and somehow didn't think I'd find out (if you're going to cheat, make sure the person you are tarting about with doesn't have a blog where they detail anything and everything)
he made me do things I didn't want to do, by indicating that I was worthless if I wouldn't
he refused to tell mutual friends that we were dating, incase one of them in particular was 'hurt'
The scariest thing about that list? It's just the start of it. And hardly any of these guys have I walked away from when they did those things to me. I have never called time on a relationship immediately after any of those events. Rather, I have waited. I have waited and tolerated and been made miserable. I have always clung to the positives rather than face up to the negatives.
Not anymore. I don't think it's right to have a mental check list of 'what I want in a partner'; you'll miss out on some wonderful people if you do that. But it is right to have a list of things that are absolutely unacceptable to you.
As the corny, cheerleading Americans repeatedly say on that dratted TV show, you have to learn to love yourself first. If you do, you'll never put up with such utter rubbish from somebody else. I have spent my entire life living with the belief of 'not being good enough', and frankly it's time I clambered over that hurdle.
All those guys I alluded to there, I have loved to some degree or another. Some of those references are to the one I hinted at in my last blog post. How utterly ridiculous is that?
2014: I hope I make it the year where I figure out what I want as an individual, and where I can respect myself enough not to take this crap again. As the years have gone by I've felt increasingly broken by the incidents I've mentioned above – and the countless others I just don't feel like writing on here. I am going to make a promise to myself now, and if I inspire just one reader to do the same then I've at least achieved something this year.
“There is only one real misfortune: to forfeit one's own good opinion of oneself. Lose your complacency, once betray your own self-contempt and the world will unhesitatingly endorse it.” [Thomas Mann]
Monday, January 13, 2014
Where there is ruin, there is hope for a treasure
If the first two weeks of 2014 are anything to go by, it'll be a tiring year. I'm back to not being able to sleep properly. Over a decade ago I had to learn the trick of falling asleep to a flickering television screen; I had become so used to curling up next to somebody that the sudden loneliness at night after he went away was all-encompassing. A friend made a comment to me recently that he only gets to fall asleep through exhaustion these days, and I've realised I'm at the same point.
Silence becomes suffocating. My happy equilibrium has been destroyed and I've crossed over from the Peaceful Alone and taken up residence in the world of the Discontented Lonely.
There is a wonderful line in 'The Great Gatsby' (all the lines are wonderful, come to that) -
“Possibly it had occurred to him that the colossal significance of that green light had now vanished forever. Compared to the great distance that had separated him from Daisy it had seemed very near to her, almost touching her. It had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was again a green light on a dock. His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.”
The end of any relationship invariably sees a smashed path of those enchanted objects stretching before us. Future moments are taken away. Memories are associated with a particular person and it is impossible to extricate them from the scene and replace them with somebody new simply because that is what we would like to do. Some music is lost to us forever. Phrases. Whatever meant something to us with 'them' becomes a barrier between any future 'us' that might be created. Everything from places to poems, scents to gestures, sends me tumbling back into a past I wish I could forget.
There are some people you'll meet who you know are playing a game. You blithely concede to become a part of that; some emotions are banished, and you are safe. Then there are those who catch you out – you don't realise until too late that it was all just a challenge to them, and once they are tired of the game they'll abruptly move on. Another 'Gatsby' thought:
“They were careless people, Tom and Daisy – they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back to their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made...”.
It's almost easier to deal with those than the third category: those you are never quite sure of. Did it mean anything to them? Are they now laughing about you; using those same lines on somebody else? Or are they also awake at 4am, wondering what the hell just happened to their dreams?
The feelings will eventually creep away. You shut them into a loosely bolted casket and come to learn how to lean heavily on the lid. Yet again, though, I find myself wanting a sneak preview of the future – just to be sure that, once more, I emerge from the other side and manage to get a little peace again. During this past week, aided by distractions and friends and drinks, I have clutched a little desperately onto positive emotions and forced myself to organise some of the practicalities of life. And now, I am somewhat inevitably going through the opposing feelings; I'll be achieving a rocky but bearable equilibrium at some as yet unknown point. It's been done before.
Until then, along with Argentine lyricist Cadicamo, I want my heart to get drunk.
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I'll meet you there.
Where the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.”
Sunday, December 29, 2013
A New Year's Eve to remember
On Valentine's Day itself, she jokingly bought me a blue plastic rose – epitomising some kind of tacky hideousness – and we went to the cinema to watch the Southpark movie. I remember it as a day when I laughed a good deal.
Since then, the 14th February has been a series of ghastly disasters. Every guy starts throwing out the excuses weeks in advance about how it is commercialised nonsense and romance can be applied to any day (why yes it can, and a demonstration of that would be nice occasionally).
Birthdays have been similarly brutal as far as guys are concerned. I'm sure I've ranted about that on here before, but suffice to say that my best birthdays have been spent with my mother – the most excellent by far being a week on Capri in the midst of me supposedly writing my Masters thesis. Let's face it, it's impossible to go wrong with sunshine, a glittering sea, and an endless supply of gelato.
I went to Australia when I was 18 and have had a damn fine series of New Years' Eves ever since with destinations including the likes of New York, Sydney, Buenos Aires and Cape Town. Because I've invariably been away from the UK and my family at Christmas that holiday has come to mean less and less to me over the years, and instead New Year's Eve has taken on a significance. I like the feeling of marking a year that has passed, looking back over the highs and lows and wondering what the heck the next 12 months have in store for me.
Yesterday, I very nearly booked a flight to Los Angeles to spend New Year's Eve over there. I reluctantly allowed the twin bores of Reality and Sanity to reach over and stop me handing over my credit card details to British Airways, and I realised I'd need to rapidly form an alternative plan.
After staring blankly at the wall for a while, with not a little rocking back and forth, I hit upon the only viable option. Armed with a bottle of Champagne and every item of warm clothing and bedding that can be rammed into my car, I'm taking myself off with my tent to somewhere or another – maybe Land's End, perhaps Lizard Point (the UK's most southerly point, if you're wondering). I don't care that a storm is brewing and for the sixty seconds it takes to erect my canvas home for the night that I'll probably be lashed by stinging rain. At least I'll feel alive for those brief moments.
And then I'll curl up inside, break out some music on the iPad, pop the cork, and quietly consolidate a year's worth of events and emotions. If you're at a loose end then feel free to come and join me. It might be cosier in your own home surrounded by familiar comforts but unless something drastic happens – a bulldozer invading your living room, for example, or the chimney catching fire – you're unlikely to remember it. I'm going to pack one more mini experience into 2013 and start 2014 on what will doubtless be a tired but satisfied high.
'Experience is not what happens to you; it's what you do with what happens to you.' (Aldous Huxley)
Sunday, November 24, 2013
A New Chapter
I said to a friend a few months ago that I find it perfectly possible to fall head over heels in love ten times a day. The guy who sits down at a table nearby and runs his fingers through his hair just so; the man who looks across from a train carriage that is temporarily adjacent in a station before you are both whisked to opposing places; the one who brushes past you in a packed bar and, for the briefest moment, there is a shared understanding of what might have been.
When you travel, life becomes an endless series of departures and separations. However brief the encounter it always lingers somewhere in the back of your mind – and occasionally, as I did just a few days ago, you'll stumble across something tangible to remind you of that moment (in this instance, a photograph of a sunset and 'without words' scrawled across the back). The thing with these moments is that you can be everything you ever thought you wanted to be: it is a meeting defined by its transience, by the sure knowledge of its imminent ending. It's an addictive feeling, everything being charged with passion and promise and the certainty of the exquisite agony of heartbreak.
Which of you readers hasn't forged your own conclusions as to why I've travelled? The Armchair Critic: everyone's favourite role to play, with lines of the likes of 'Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus' playing a starring role in the analysis. I've concluded there's little point trying to explain, since most of you won't believe it over your own versions anyway.
But I can tell you why I pulled the plug on yet another supposed 'trip of a lifetime' a few days ago. (And for the record, I don't define anything I've done in that way and I never have. It's been my whole life, not an add-on that has appeared temporarily.) Honestly, I'm just tired. I have exhausted an entire gamut of emotions by forcing upon myself a 'series of little deaths'. When you find yourself in a beautiful place and you are actively looking for a flaw, you realise it is time to stop for a while. And hey, I ended on a high: thanks to years of air miles I came back from New York into London on a business class flight, complete with a massage and a champagne cocktail to wind down and celebrate the last thirteen years of my life.
I bumped into a box of old photographs a few evenings ago and I re-lived moments from Australia to Zambia. Nobody can ever take away those memories that have defined and refined me, and no one other person will ever know everything I've seen and felt and loved.
It's time to find work that I care about and believe in, and to find peace in familiarity. The 'what ifs' I've created over the years need acknowledging. Most folks, said Abraham Lincoln, are about as happy as they have made up their minds to be – and I've a hell of a lot to be happy about over the coming weeks. There are Christmas trees and heartfelt hugs and laughter and wine and windswept cliffs, all providing the perfect backdrop to my new determination to forge a niche that takes the impact of over a decade of truly global experiences and transforms it into something extraordinary.
“I have an idea that the only thing which makes it possible to regard this world we live in without disgust is the beauty which now and then men create out of the chaos. The pictures they paint, the music they compose, the books they write, and the lives they lead. Of all these the richest in beauty is the beautiful life. That is the perfect work of art.” ['The Painted Veil', Somerset Maugham.]
When you travel, life becomes an endless series of departures and separations. However brief the encounter it always lingers somewhere in the back of your mind – and occasionally, as I did just a few days ago, you'll stumble across something tangible to remind you of that moment (in this instance, a photograph of a sunset and 'without words' scrawled across the back). The thing with these moments is that you can be everything you ever thought you wanted to be: it is a meeting defined by its transience, by the sure knowledge of its imminent ending. It's an addictive feeling, everything being charged with passion and promise and the certainty of the exquisite agony of heartbreak.
Which of you readers hasn't forged your own conclusions as to why I've travelled? The Armchair Critic: everyone's favourite role to play, with lines of the likes of 'Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus' playing a starring role in the analysis. I've concluded there's little point trying to explain, since most of you won't believe it over your own versions anyway.
But I can tell you why I pulled the plug on yet another supposed 'trip of a lifetime' a few days ago. (And for the record, I don't define anything I've done in that way and I never have. It's been my whole life, not an add-on that has appeared temporarily.) Honestly, I'm just tired. I have exhausted an entire gamut of emotions by forcing upon myself a 'series of little deaths'. When you find yourself in a beautiful place and you are actively looking for a flaw, you realise it is time to stop for a while. And hey, I ended on a high: thanks to years of air miles I came back from New York into London on a business class flight, complete with a massage and a champagne cocktail to wind down and celebrate the last thirteen years of my life.
I bumped into a box of old photographs a few evenings ago and I re-lived moments from Australia to Zambia. Nobody can ever take away those memories that have defined and refined me, and no one other person will ever know everything I've seen and felt and loved.
It's time to find work that I care about and believe in, and to find peace in familiarity. The 'what ifs' I've created over the years need acknowledging. Most folks, said Abraham Lincoln, are about as happy as they have made up their minds to be – and I've a hell of a lot to be happy about over the coming weeks. There are Christmas trees and heartfelt hugs and laughter and wine and windswept cliffs, all providing the perfect backdrop to my new determination to forge a niche that takes the impact of over a decade of truly global experiences and transforms it into something extraordinary.
“I have an idea that the only thing which makes it possible to regard this world we live in without disgust is the beauty which now and then men create out of the chaos. The pictures they paint, the music they compose, the books they write, and the lives they lead. Of all these the richest in beauty is the beautiful life. That is the perfect work of art.” ['The Painted Veil', Somerset Maugham.]
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Fifty literary feasts
Inspired by the somewhat uninspiring suggestions given on this website, http://flavorwire.com/403319/50-places-every-literary-fan-should-visit/view-all here is my own list of fifty places every fan of literature should want to visit. The original focuses rather heavily on America and merely staring at a house where somebody happened to be born. Mine is, to my mind at least, infinitely more interesting – although I am ready for the accusations that my list is, in turn, overly English in flavour... These are in no particular order, but it would be wrong to start without mentioning Shakespeare: I'm not quite sure how the author of the original list managed to justify eliminating him.
1) Shakespeare. You could visit Stratford-upon-Avon and wander around the grounds of Anne Hathaway's cottage, or head across to London and see a performance at the Globe Theatre. Alternatively, hop on up to Scotland and see Cawdor Castle – yes, Macbeth's Castle is open to visitors – http://www.cawdorcastle.com/. Or sidle over to Denmark and check out Hamlet's old haunt - http://www.kronborg.dk/english/
2) Austen. Since her home is really rather lovely and houses an excellent library (it is where I first stumbled across the works of Elizabeth Thomas, subject of my thesis) I will include this 'come and stare at a house' option - http://www.jane-austens-house-museum.org.uk/
3) Pemberly. Go and find your Mr Darcy emerging from the lake at Lyme Park: http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/lyme-park/ Incidentally, 'Pride and Prejudice' is 200 years old this year.
4) The Brontes. Here you get a bargainous 'four in one' offer if you visit the Old Parsonage in Haworth. It's a gorgeous old house in a great little village. The more morbid among you can even go and visit the grave of Bramwell Bronte, where Emily caught a cold attending his funeral; her cold rapidly developed into consumption and she died shortly after. http://www.bronte.org.uk/
5) Wilde. You can visit various homes of his in Dublin, but I'm more of a fan of Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris. Lather on the lipstick and add a kiss to Wilde's grave: http://www.bestourism.com/img/items/big/6784/Pere-Lachaise-Cemetery-in-Paris-France_Oscar-Wilde-messages_7697.jpg
6) Rimbaud. Yes, he really did wander off to Ethiopia, change his identity and try to eke out his life anonymously. Some pesky tourists recognised him though and blew his cover. Still, it's as good an excuse as any to visit a stunning country: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mytripsmypics/164716940/
7) Hemingway. He went everywhere... My recommendation here, though, is a trip to Kilimanjaro – inspiration for 'The Snows of Kilimanjaro'. Get there before the snow disappears completely. http://www.tanzaniaparks.com/kili.html
8) Hemingway and Orson Wells and Truman Capote – and a few others. Wander over to Venice and hang out in Harry's Bar. Drink a few gallons of mojito and maybe you'll come up with something akin to 'Farewell to Arms': http://www.harrysbarvenezia.com/
9) Umberto Eco. While we're in Italy, we'll make a quick mention of Eco. His most famous work, 'The Name of the Rose', is set in a monastery – arguably inspired by the Moissac Abbey in southern France, http://tourisme.moissac.fr/abbaye-moissac/
10) Browning and Browning. Another double whammy, get to see Robert and Elizabeth's home in Florence, the Casa Guidi. Not only can you see it, if you fork out a small fortune you can even stay there: http://www.landmarktrust.org.uk/search-and-book/properties/casa-guidi-5521
11) Joyce. It's impossible not to mention the annual Bloomsday Festival in Dublin, honouring Leopold Bloom from 'Ulysses'. Dress up in Edwardian costume and follow Bloom's route around Dublin: http://www.visitdublin.com/event/Bloomsday_Festival
12) Woolf. Stay in a cosy little chalet with perfect views reaching across to the lighthouse that inspired Woolf's famous book, 'To the Lighthouse'. http://www.chycor.co.uk/gwithian-towans-chalets-stives-seareach/
13) E M Forster. There are too many places to choose from, so I'm sending you back to Florence – this time, to follow in the footsteps of Lucy Honeychurch, heroine of 'Room with a View'. If Mr Darcy didn't show up on your 'Pemberly' visit, perhaps you'll find your own George in a field near Florence. Just don't forget your macintosh square: http://mmimageslarge.moviemail-online.co.uk/21879_Room-With-1.jpg
14) D H Lawrence. I could send you to the somewhat 'grim north' where Lawrence lived most of his life, but I prefer to despatch you to New Mexico. See if you can also convince the curator to let you in to the now closed DH Lawrence Ranch: http://www.sfreporter.com/santafe/article-7311-ghost-ranch.html
15) Dante. I really should have organised this list more effectively... You're now going back to Florence, and when you are done with the Brownings and Forster you can take a wonderful guided tour of Dante's world. His home is now an excellent little museum – you can buy 'The Inferno' on a single poster should you wish to ruin your eyes with the tiny print: http://www.walkaboutflorence.com/articles/dante-florence
16) P L Travers. Who the devil, I hear you ask, is P L Travers? Why, the author of 'Mary Poppins', of course! And you can visit her unbelievably cute home over in Australia (yes, she was Australian, not British – how many myths have I just busted for you?). There's a lovely article on the TravelBelles website: http://www.travelbelles.com/2013/05/mary-poppins-house-queensland/
17) Paul Scott. Again, I anticipate your eyebrows being raised. Paul Scott is author of the engrossing 'Raj Quartet', filmed by the BBC as 'The Jewel in the Crown'. If you haven't read it or seen it, move it to the top of the 'must experience' pile. Afterwards, you'll be hankering after a trip to India – I suggest heading up to Srinagar, where the British used to retreat to houseboats in the height of the summer. You can even stay on a boat called 'The Jewel in the Crown': http://www.thejewelincrown.com/
18) Confucius. Well, not an author of fiction but he did write some cracking lines, didn't he? And besides, I wanted an excuse to send you to China. His former home is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site - http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/704
19) Baudelaire. After you've left your mark on Wilde's grave, wander across to the cemetery in Montparnasse and see Baudelaire's grave. Yes, I'm a fan of cemeteries. That isn't morbid - they are just peaceful places where I like to sit and think: http://www.poetsgraves.co.uk/baudelaire.htm
20) Dostoyevsky. Visit St Petersburg, arguably the most stunning of Russia's fine and dramatic cities; it's an easy train ride from many parts of Europe. And while you are there, head to the Dostoyevsky museum. You might not have waded through any of his tomes, but honestly, who the heck has? It's still worthy of a visit: http://www.saint-petersburg.com/museums/dostoyevsky-memorial-museum/
21) Achebe. In 'Things Fall Apart', Achebe writes about the 'evil forest' where Christian missionaries have been given land to build their church; this was inspired by his time in Oba-Igbomina, where the school he taught at was built on 'bad bush', an area of land said to be haunted by unfriendly spirits. Head off to Oba-Igbomina and experience something of Achebe's fascinating life: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oba,_Nigeria
22) Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Colombian writer, known for his use of magical realism (a technique that, in all honesty, I'm not a huge fan of – and indeed a literary term that I have issues with in itself, but that is for another day). Visit Aracataca, the hometown of Marquez and supposedly the inspiration for Macondo, setting for 'One Hundred Years of Solitude'. http://www.colombia.travel/en/international-tourist/sightseeing-what-to-do/colombia-thematic-routes/garcia-marquez/aracataca
23) Coelho. Some of Paulo Coelho's books are worth reading, but I have found that his interesting ideas are generally just repeated throughout all the books. Read two, and you've read 'em all. Nevertheless, he's a fascinating author and has dominated the international literary scene for over a decade. My personal favourite is 'Veronika Decides to Die', and although you might take Coelho as an excuse to make a pilgrimage to Brazil, I'm sending you instead to Slovenia. To Ljubljana, in fact, where the book is set: http://www.visitljubljana.com/
24) Neruda. (See? There is some sense of order here – three South American authors in a row.) Visit the home in Santiago he built for his secret love, and while there be sure to learn enough Spanish to read 'Tonight I can write the saddest lines' - http://allpoetry.com/poem/8497013-Tonight_I_Can_Write__The_Saddest_Lines_-by-Pablo_Neruda - in the original language: http://www.fundacionneruda.org/en/la-chascona/history.html
25) Antal Szerb. One of my favourite authors by far, the few books he managed to write before his murder (let's just say he was Jewish at a bad time in history to be Jewish in Europe) are little segments of perfection. You'll have to go to Budapest in Hungary if you want to see where he grew up. One excellent spot for a pilgrimage would be to visit the beautiful University of Szeged where he worked for a few years, http://www.inf.u-szeged.hu/~chollo/Kepek/rektori.jpg
26) Goethe. While wandering around Europe, you may as well hop up to Frankfurt and visit the birthplace of Goethe. I'm not a great one for staring at a house where somebody was born, but architecturally this is really rather stunning: http://www.altfrankfurt.com/Goethe/
27) Lorca. The Spanish playwright gives us an excellent reason to wander through Andalucia (avoid those lemons Stewart warns us of while you're driving around). 'The House of Bernada Alba' could be set in any of the white-washed hilltop villages, so you can head off to a number of them and choose which you think is the most probable location. http://www.andalucia.com/
28) Lessing. Doris Lessing's 'The Grass is Singing' is an incredible read. And for this, I'm posting you off to a little known game park in southern Zimbabwe. Us literary geeks want an excuse to go on safari, too: http://www.expertafrica.com/zimbabwe/gonarezhou-national-park
29) Westminster Abbey. I am of course referring to Poets' Corner, the ultimate site to visit when searching for the tombs of famous authors. Tennyson, Dickens, Shakespeare, Kipling and Hardy jostle for elbow room here, and there are memorials to Blake, Milton, Gray, Keats – oh, everyone. They charge a fortune to get in, but I guess it's worth it for the sheer number of literary greats you'll be in close quarters with: http://www.westminster-abbey.org/visit-us/highlights/poets-corner
30) Waugh. I can't get enough of Evelyn Waugh (and particularly love the fact he was married to somebody called Evelyn, too). There are so many places you could visit in honour of 'Brideshead Revisited' – the botanical gardens at Oxford to 'see the ivy', or Morocco to find where Sebastian ended up, or Venice to follow their footsteps through the galleries – but I love the film as much as the book so am sending you up to the gorgeous Castle Howard in Yorkshire: http://www.castlehoward.co.uk/
31) Derek Tangye. Yet more querying looks shot my way, but I love Cornwall and I loved Tangye's books telling the tales of his life running a daffodil farm on the Cornish coast. I visited him for my 13th birthday and we exchanged letters for a while, with him sending me photos of his donkeys Merlin and Suzy from time to time. Head down to Lamorna Cove in Cornwall and, for a truly perfect day out, finish round the corner watching a play at the Minack Theatre – a stone amphitheatre cut into the rocks with the sea serving as a dramatic backdrop. http://minack.info/ and http://www.minack.com/ will help you plan.
32) Du Maurier. While in Cornwall, take a chance to visit some of the sites du Maurier wrote about. You can hop in a small motorboat and head up the Helston River, inspiration for 'Frenchman's Creek': http://www.falriver.co.uk/things-to-do/walking/frenchmans-creek
33) Hans Christian Andersen. He penned the fairytale 'The Little Mermaid', and whether you're a fan of the book or the Disney film it's worth heading over to Denmark to see the statue in Copenhagen harbour: http://www.mermaidsculpture.dk/
34) Anne Frank. If you are in Europe and longing to see anything of importance to writers from the past, it would be wrong to miss out on Anne Frank's home in Amsterdam. It is a haunting, sobering experience: http://www.annefrank.org/
35) Agatha Christie. Stroll around the grounds and sit at her desk at Christie's beloved summer home down on the Devonshire coast. It is a beautiful home and well worth a visit for anyone who has ever been caught up in one of her twisting plots: http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/greenway/
36) The Eagle and Child. I like to give value for money, and by visiting The Eagle and Child in Oxford you get to spend time in the pub where The Inklings used to meet – that would be CS Lewis, JR Tolkien and their other literary friends. http://www.nicholsonspubs.co.uk/theeagleandchildoxford/
37) Scott Fitzgerald. He spent plenty of time being horrifically drunk in Paris, and he offers yet another good reason to go to the ultimate romantic city. On one occasion, he hijacked a baker's bike and went on a joyride down the Champs-Elysees, wielding a baguette at the doormen as he sped by. Take a literary tour if you can't be bothered to find all the places by yourself: http://www.blouinartinfo.com/travel/slideshow/city-walks-f-scott-fitzgeralds-paris/?image=0
38) Klein Constantia. Including a vineyard could come as a surprise – but I have good reason to. Klein Constantia in Cape Town was mentioned in books by both the Bronte sisters and Charles Dickens, and that seems like a viable excuse to head down to sample some of their finest wines: http://www.kleinconstantia.com/
39) J G Ballard. Typically known for his gripping dystopias, 'Empire of the Sun' tells the story of his childhood growing up in war torn Shanghai. It's a city worth visiting anyway, not least because it features a railway that 'floats' thanks to scary magnet technology that I don't even want to think about, but this book gives you another reason to head off to China: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56674.Empire_of_the_Sun
40) McEwan. He went from writing saucy short stories to some of the most beautifully crafted novels of the present day. I'm not generally a fan of the authors who are currently churning work out, but Ian McEwan is formidable. 'Chesil Beach' is a perfect novelette, and you can wander along the beach too. Stay here for some stunning views of the beach: http://chesilbeachlodge.co.uk/
41) Orwell. Born in India, raised in Henley, and spending his life travelling to some wonderful far flung corners, I've decided to whisk you away to Myanmar where he spent the war years. He was initially stationed in Pyin Oo Lwin, now known as the 'city of flowers': http://www.pyinoolwin.info/
42) Larsson. Head over to Stockholm to take a tour of the places featured in 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo'. The Telegraph have summed up the options pretty well, so I'll just link to their article: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/cruises/9111563/Stockholm-on-the-trail-of-the-Girl-with-the-Dragon-Tattoo.html
43) Kundera. He was born in the Czech Republic but now insists he is French. Still, his love letter to Prague, 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being', means you have an excuse to visit the Czech Republic after all. Go to the Globe Bookstore for top tips on where to go and what to see on a literary tour of Prague: http://www.globebookstore.cz/
44) Kafka. While you are in Prague, you'll doubtless want to take the time to see the endless sites devoted to Kafka. Go everywhere from his place of birth to his tombstone, and use this site to help you find the bits that matter in the middle: http://globaltravelauthors.com/145-2/
45) Camus. Visit sprawling Algiers and follow Meursault's footsteps to the beach. Perhaps try to avoid any particularly bright patches of sunshine if you're in a tetchy sort of mood... http://0.tqn.com/d/goafrica/1/0/o/E/dv676195.jpg
46) Tolstoy. Go to Moscow and visit the train station, where Anna Karenina first met Vronsky, and where she threw herself under a train. Alternatively, if you actually liked the recently released film, you'll have to go to the slightly less glamorous Didcot Railway Station that was used: http://www.didcotrailwaycentre.org.uk/filmandfunction/filmtv_credits.html
47) Borges. I love Buenos Aires – it is a city that is alive with an unashamed and intense passion – and a pilgrimage to see something of where Borges lived much of his life means you'll get to experience it, too. The NY Times has done this better than I can in a few short sentences: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/05/14/travel/14foot.html?pagewanted=all
48) Somerset Maugham. 'The Painted Veil' will send you over to Hong Kong, where the expat lifestyle today is dubiously unchanged from that described in the novel set in the 1920s. (In fact, it was so close to the truth that with the threat of being sued hanging over him, Maugham changed the name of the city to Tching-Yen.) John Le Carre's 'The Honourable Schoolboy', sequel to, 'Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy', is also set in Hong Kong. Wander through the streets and see where they drew their inspiration from: http://www.discoverhongkong.com/login.html
49) Tennessee Williams. Finally, I'll put in something truly American. New Orleans has an annual literary festival dedicated to this formidable writer, and while you are there you can wander round and try to find where you think Stella and Stanley may have been living – and, although it doesn't follow the original route, you really can ride on the streetcar named Desire (albeit in San Francisco): http://www.tennesseewilliams.net/ and http://www.streetcar.org/streetcars/952/
50) St Vincent Millay. Her poetry often brings me to tears... And you can wander around her former home in upstate New York. https://www.gardenconservancy.org/garden-preservation/gardenpreservationservices/preservation-projects/steepletop?view=standardlayout&title=68
And there you have it. If you actually read through all of those, congratulations. I apologise for not having the fancy skills to put photos for every place, but hopefully the weblinks suffice for now. I would love to lead a tour of all these sites... Ah, some day!
1) Shakespeare. You could visit Stratford-upon-Avon and wander around the grounds of Anne Hathaway's cottage, or head across to London and see a performance at the Globe Theatre. Alternatively, hop on up to Scotland and see Cawdor Castle – yes, Macbeth's Castle is open to visitors – http://www.cawdorcastle.com/. Or sidle over to Denmark and check out Hamlet's old haunt - http://www.kronborg.dk/english/
2) Austen. Since her home is really rather lovely and houses an excellent library (it is where I first stumbled across the works of Elizabeth Thomas, subject of my thesis) I will include this 'come and stare at a house' option - http://www.jane-austens-house-museum.org.uk/
3) Pemberly. Go and find your Mr Darcy emerging from the lake at Lyme Park: http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/lyme-park/ Incidentally, 'Pride and Prejudice' is 200 years old this year.
4) The Brontes. Here you get a bargainous 'four in one' offer if you visit the Old Parsonage in Haworth. It's a gorgeous old house in a great little village. The more morbid among you can even go and visit the grave of Bramwell Bronte, where Emily caught a cold attending his funeral; her cold rapidly developed into consumption and she died shortly after. http://www.bronte.org.uk/
5) Wilde. You can visit various homes of his in Dublin, but I'm more of a fan of Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris. Lather on the lipstick and add a kiss to Wilde's grave: http://www.bestourism.com/img/items/big/6784/Pere-Lachaise-Cemetery-in-Paris-France_Oscar-Wilde-messages_7697.jpg
6) Rimbaud. Yes, he really did wander off to Ethiopia, change his identity and try to eke out his life anonymously. Some pesky tourists recognised him though and blew his cover. Still, it's as good an excuse as any to visit a stunning country: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mytripsmypics/164716940/
7) Hemingway. He went everywhere... My recommendation here, though, is a trip to Kilimanjaro – inspiration for 'The Snows of Kilimanjaro'. Get there before the snow disappears completely. http://www.tanzaniaparks.com/kili.html
8) Hemingway and Orson Wells and Truman Capote – and a few others. Wander over to Venice and hang out in Harry's Bar. Drink a few gallons of mojito and maybe you'll come up with something akin to 'Farewell to Arms': http://www.harrysbarvenezia.com/
9) Umberto Eco. While we're in Italy, we'll make a quick mention of Eco. His most famous work, 'The Name of the Rose', is set in a monastery – arguably inspired by the Moissac Abbey in southern France, http://tourisme.moissac.fr/abbaye-moissac/
10) Browning and Browning. Another double whammy, get to see Robert and Elizabeth's home in Florence, the Casa Guidi. Not only can you see it, if you fork out a small fortune you can even stay there: http://www.landmarktrust.org.uk/search-and-book/properties/casa-guidi-5521
11) Joyce. It's impossible not to mention the annual Bloomsday Festival in Dublin, honouring Leopold Bloom from 'Ulysses'. Dress up in Edwardian costume and follow Bloom's route around Dublin: http://www.visitdublin.com/event/Bloomsday_Festival
12) Woolf. Stay in a cosy little chalet with perfect views reaching across to the lighthouse that inspired Woolf's famous book, 'To the Lighthouse'. http://www.chycor.co.uk/gwithian-towans-chalets-stives-seareach/
13) E M Forster. There are too many places to choose from, so I'm sending you back to Florence – this time, to follow in the footsteps of Lucy Honeychurch, heroine of 'Room with a View'. If Mr Darcy didn't show up on your 'Pemberly' visit, perhaps you'll find your own George in a field near Florence. Just don't forget your macintosh square: http://mmimageslarge.moviemail-online.co.uk/21879_Room-With-1.jpg
14) D H Lawrence. I could send you to the somewhat 'grim north' where Lawrence lived most of his life, but I prefer to despatch you to New Mexico. See if you can also convince the curator to let you in to the now closed DH Lawrence Ranch: http://www.sfreporter.com/santafe/article-7311-ghost-ranch.html
15) Dante. I really should have organised this list more effectively... You're now going back to Florence, and when you are done with the Brownings and Forster you can take a wonderful guided tour of Dante's world. His home is now an excellent little museum – you can buy 'The Inferno' on a single poster should you wish to ruin your eyes with the tiny print: http://www.walkaboutflorence.com/articles/dante-florence
16) P L Travers. Who the devil, I hear you ask, is P L Travers? Why, the author of 'Mary Poppins', of course! And you can visit her unbelievably cute home over in Australia (yes, she was Australian, not British – how many myths have I just busted for you?). There's a lovely article on the TravelBelles website: http://www.travelbelles.com/2013/05/mary-poppins-house-queensland/
17) Paul Scott. Again, I anticipate your eyebrows being raised. Paul Scott is author of the engrossing 'Raj Quartet', filmed by the BBC as 'The Jewel in the Crown'. If you haven't read it or seen it, move it to the top of the 'must experience' pile. Afterwards, you'll be hankering after a trip to India – I suggest heading up to Srinagar, where the British used to retreat to houseboats in the height of the summer. You can even stay on a boat called 'The Jewel in the Crown': http://www.thejewelincrown.com/
18) Confucius. Well, not an author of fiction but he did write some cracking lines, didn't he? And besides, I wanted an excuse to send you to China. His former home is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site - http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/704
19) Baudelaire. After you've left your mark on Wilde's grave, wander across to the cemetery in Montparnasse and see Baudelaire's grave. Yes, I'm a fan of cemeteries. That isn't morbid - they are just peaceful places where I like to sit and think: http://www.poetsgraves.co.uk/baudelaire.htm
20) Dostoyevsky. Visit St Petersburg, arguably the most stunning of Russia's fine and dramatic cities; it's an easy train ride from many parts of Europe. And while you are there, head to the Dostoyevsky museum. You might not have waded through any of his tomes, but honestly, who the heck has? It's still worthy of a visit: http://www.saint-petersburg.com/museums/dostoyevsky-memorial-museum/
21) Achebe. In 'Things Fall Apart', Achebe writes about the 'evil forest' where Christian missionaries have been given land to build their church; this was inspired by his time in Oba-Igbomina, where the school he taught at was built on 'bad bush', an area of land said to be haunted by unfriendly spirits. Head off to Oba-Igbomina and experience something of Achebe's fascinating life: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oba,_Nigeria
22) Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Colombian writer, known for his use of magical realism (a technique that, in all honesty, I'm not a huge fan of – and indeed a literary term that I have issues with in itself, but that is for another day). Visit Aracataca, the hometown of Marquez and supposedly the inspiration for Macondo, setting for 'One Hundred Years of Solitude'. http://www.colombia.travel/en/international-tourist/sightseeing-what-to-do/colombia-thematic-routes/garcia-marquez/aracataca
23) Coelho. Some of Paulo Coelho's books are worth reading, but I have found that his interesting ideas are generally just repeated throughout all the books. Read two, and you've read 'em all. Nevertheless, he's a fascinating author and has dominated the international literary scene for over a decade. My personal favourite is 'Veronika Decides to Die', and although you might take Coelho as an excuse to make a pilgrimage to Brazil, I'm sending you instead to Slovenia. To Ljubljana, in fact, where the book is set: http://www.visitljubljana.com/
24) Neruda. (See? There is some sense of order here – three South American authors in a row.) Visit the home in Santiago he built for his secret love, and while there be sure to learn enough Spanish to read 'Tonight I can write the saddest lines' - http://allpoetry.com/poem/8497013-Tonight_I_Can_Write__The_Saddest_Lines_-by-Pablo_Neruda - in the original language: http://www.fundacionneruda.org/en/la-chascona/history.html
25) Antal Szerb. One of my favourite authors by far, the few books he managed to write before his murder (let's just say he was Jewish at a bad time in history to be Jewish in Europe) are little segments of perfection. You'll have to go to Budapest in Hungary if you want to see where he grew up. One excellent spot for a pilgrimage would be to visit the beautiful University of Szeged where he worked for a few years, http://www.inf.u-szeged.hu/~chollo/Kepek/rektori.jpg
26) Goethe. While wandering around Europe, you may as well hop up to Frankfurt and visit the birthplace of Goethe. I'm not a great one for staring at a house where somebody was born, but architecturally this is really rather stunning: http://www.altfrankfurt.com/Goethe/
27) Lorca. The Spanish playwright gives us an excellent reason to wander through Andalucia (avoid those lemons Stewart warns us of while you're driving around). 'The House of Bernada Alba' could be set in any of the white-washed hilltop villages, so you can head off to a number of them and choose which you think is the most probable location. http://www.andalucia.com/
28) Lessing. Doris Lessing's 'The Grass is Singing' is an incredible read. And for this, I'm posting you off to a little known game park in southern Zimbabwe. Us literary geeks want an excuse to go on safari, too: http://www.expertafrica.com/zimbabwe/gonarezhou-national-park
29) Westminster Abbey. I am of course referring to Poets' Corner, the ultimate site to visit when searching for the tombs of famous authors. Tennyson, Dickens, Shakespeare, Kipling and Hardy jostle for elbow room here, and there are memorials to Blake, Milton, Gray, Keats – oh, everyone. They charge a fortune to get in, but I guess it's worth it for the sheer number of literary greats you'll be in close quarters with: http://www.westminster-abbey.org/visit-us/highlights/poets-corner
30) Waugh. I can't get enough of Evelyn Waugh (and particularly love the fact he was married to somebody called Evelyn, too). There are so many places you could visit in honour of 'Brideshead Revisited' – the botanical gardens at Oxford to 'see the ivy', or Morocco to find where Sebastian ended up, or Venice to follow their footsteps through the galleries – but I love the film as much as the book so am sending you up to the gorgeous Castle Howard in Yorkshire: http://www.castlehoward.co.uk/
31) Derek Tangye. Yet more querying looks shot my way, but I love Cornwall and I loved Tangye's books telling the tales of his life running a daffodil farm on the Cornish coast. I visited him for my 13th birthday and we exchanged letters for a while, with him sending me photos of his donkeys Merlin and Suzy from time to time. Head down to Lamorna Cove in Cornwall and, for a truly perfect day out, finish round the corner watching a play at the Minack Theatre – a stone amphitheatre cut into the rocks with the sea serving as a dramatic backdrop. http://minack.info/ and http://www.minack.com/ will help you plan.
32) Du Maurier. While in Cornwall, take a chance to visit some of the sites du Maurier wrote about. You can hop in a small motorboat and head up the Helston River, inspiration for 'Frenchman's Creek': http://www.falriver.co.uk/things-to-do/walking/frenchmans-creek
33) Hans Christian Andersen. He penned the fairytale 'The Little Mermaid', and whether you're a fan of the book or the Disney film it's worth heading over to Denmark to see the statue in Copenhagen harbour: http://www.mermaidsculpture.dk/
34) Anne Frank. If you are in Europe and longing to see anything of importance to writers from the past, it would be wrong to miss out on Anne Frank's home in Amsterdam. It is a haunting, sobering experience: http://www.annefrank.org/
35) Agatha Christie. Stroll around the grounds and sit at her desk at Christie's beloved summer home down on the Devonshire coast. It is a beautiful home and well worth a visit for anyone who has ever been caught up in one of her twisting plots: http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/greenway/
36) The Eagle and Child. I like to give value for money, and by visiting The Eagle and Child in Oxford you get to spend time in the pub where The Inklings used to meet – that would be CS Lewis, JR Tolkien and their other literary friends. http://www.nicholsonspubs.co.uk/theeagleandchildoxford/
37) Scott Fitzgerald. He spent plenty of time being horrifically drunk in Paris, and he offers yet another good reason to go to the ultimate romantic city. On one occasion, he hijacked a baker's bike and went on a joyride down the Champs-Elysees, wielding a baguette at the doormen as he sped by. Take a literary tour if you can't be bothered to find all the places by yourself: http://www.blouinartinfo.com/travel/slideshow/city-walks-f-scott-fitzgeralds-paris/?image=0
38) Klein Constantia. Including a vineyard could come as a surprise – but I have good reason to. Klein Constantia in Cape Town was mentioned in books by both the Bronte sisters and Charles Dickens, and that seems like a viable excuse to head down to sample some of their finest wines: http://www.kleinconstantia.com/
39) J G Ballard. Typically known for his gripping dystopias, 'Empire of the Sun' tells the story of his childhood growing up in war torn Shanghai. It's a city worth visiting anyway, not least because it features a railway that 'floats' thanks to scary magnet technology that I don't even want to think about, but this book gives you another reason to head off to China: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56674.Empire_of_the_Sun
40) McEwan. He went from writing saucy short stories to some of the most beautifully crafted novels of the present day. I'm not generally a fan of the authors who are currently churning work out, but Ian McEwan is formidable. 'Chesil Beach' is a perfect novelette, and you can wander along the beach too. Stay here for some stunning views of the beach: http://chesilbeachlodge.co.uk/
41) Orwell. Born in India, raised in Henley, and spending his life travelling to some wonderful far flung corners, I've decided to whisk you away to Myanmar where he spent the war years. He was initially stationed in Pyin Oo Lwin, now known as the 'city of flowers': http://www.pyinoolwin.info/
42) Larsson. Head over to Stockholm to take a tour of the places featured in 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo'. The Telegraph have summed up the options pretty well, so I'll just link to their article: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/cruises/9111563/Stockholm-on-the-trail-of-the-Girl-with-the-Dragon-Tattoo.html
43) Kundera. He was born in the Czech Republic but now insists he is French. Still, his love letter to Prague, 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being', means you have an excuse to visit the Czech Republic after all. Go to the Globe Bookstore for top tips on where to go and what to see on a literary tour of Prague: http://www.globebookstore.cz/
44) Kafka. While you are in Prague, you'll doubtless want to take the time to see the endless sites devoted to Kafka. Go everywhere from his place of birth to his tombstone, and use this site to help you find the bits that matter in the middle: http://globaltravelauthors.com/145-2/
45) Camus. Visit sprawling Algiers and follow Meursault's footsteps to the beach. Perhaps try to avoid any particularly bright patches of sunshine if you're in a tetchy sort of mood... http://0.tqn.com/d/goafrica/1/0/o/E/dv676195.jpg
46) Tolstoy. Go to Moscow and visit the train station, where Anna Karenina first met Vronsky, and where she threw herself under a train. Alternatively, if you actually liked the recently released film, you'll have to go to the slightly less glamorous Didcot Railway Station that was used: http://www.didcotrailwaycentre.org.uk/filmandfunction/filmtv_credits.html
47) Borges. I love Buenos Aires – it is a city that is alive with an unashamed and intense passion – and a pilgrimage to see something of where Borges lived much of his life means you'll get to experience it, too. The NY Times has done this better than I can in a few short sentences: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/05/14/travel/14foot.html?pagewanted=all
48) Somerset Maugham. 'The Painted Veil' will send you over to Hong Kong, where the expat lifestyle today is dubiously unchanged from that described in the novel set in the 1920s. (In fact, it was so close to the truth that with the threat of being sued hanging over him, Maugham changed the name of the city to Tching-Yen.) John Le Carre's 'The Honourable Schoolboy', sequel to, 'Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy', is also set in Hong Kong. Wander through the streets and see where they drew their inspiration from: http://www.discoverhongkong.com/login.html
49) Tennessee Williams. Finally, I'll put in something truly American. New Orleans has an annual literary festival dedicated to this formidable writer, and while you are there you can wander round and try to find where you think Stella and Stanley may have been living – and, although it doesn't follow the original route, you really can ride on the streetcar named Desire (albeit in San Francisco): http://www.tennesseewilliams.net/ and http://www.streetcar.org/streetcars/952/
50) St Vincent Millay. Her poetry often brings me to tears... And you can wander around her former home in upstate New York. https://www.gardenconservancy.org/garden-preservation/gardenpreservationservices/preservation-projects/steepletop?view=standardlayout&title=68
And there you have it. If you actually read through all of those, congratulations. I apologise for not having the fancy skills to put photos for every place, but hopefully the weblinks suffice for now. I would love to lead a tour of all these sites... Ah, some day!
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