Older and wiser

Today I turn 36 years old. Today I am nearer to 40 than 30. Today I am once again eleven years older than Chris, dammit (for four blissful days a year I am, on paper, only a decade older than him as his birthday is a few days before mine!). Yet for all this potential fuel for depressive

Elvis legs

Well, so much for the much-anticipated lie-in… Despite new sheets, I slept fitfully and, as predicted, was woken at 5am by the orchestration of chanting (the bass line), muezzin (the melody) and Danny the dog howling (harmonies of sorts) – apparently from time to time he likes to provide enthusiastic accompaniment to the call the

Frond yoga arrives in Mysore

So, I am finally in Mysore, after the surreal experience of spending eleven hours in a weird artificial limbo in the sky then being plonked down unceremoniously somewhere utterly different from when I was last on solid ground. To me, flying long-haul really is a strange form of travel, almost like some kind of dark