The grey skies over Britain were a fitting tribute to Maggie as she sucked a final helping of Britain’s resources down with her into the darkness.
It was a gratuitous day that wrapped up a fortnight of a very modern, cynical type of grief. In reality her death changed nothing: the Lady was long gone, but it said so much more. About the world she has shuffled off, the grey she leaves behind.
Those who still revere Thatcher choose only to look at what came before her, the rest of us see what has followed.
David Cameron got a warm pat on the back from the French National Front last week for “breaking the taboo on immigration”.
Trying to drag back drifters who have been lost by some osmosis to UKIP, he laid it on the line. No more scrounging, show the door to illegal immigrants, a rolling up of the “red carpet”.
I wonder if most immigrants notice a red carpet rolled out for them when they arrive in this modern Britain?
Where they are condemned and crudely labelled by right-wing politicians cashing in a growing nationalist sentiment.
As part of the MIPIM 2013 property conference, I am writing two features for a special supplement on Moscow. Please click on the following links for detailed background notes on each feature, one of which is a review of the Moscow office market, the second of the industrial & logistics sector.
Please contact me on firstname.lastname@example.org to discuss. The deadline for these pieces is Tuesday February 12.
A recent article of mine which appeared in TNT Magazine. I followed indie band The Jezabels for a few days on tour through Portugal and Spain, and this was the result
An article I wrote on the weird and wonderful food I ate along my trip from London to Vietnam by rail has appeared on the We Blog the World Website
A feature I wrote based on an interview with X Files star Gillian Anderson. You can download the feature here
This article originally appeard in the October issue of 'Destinations Travel Magazine', a major international travel site and a Kred 'Top 50 Travel Blogger Sites'; and here on Traveldudes, a well known travel site with a huge social networking following.
10 TIPS FOR THE LONE TRAVELLER
It can be utterly bewildering taking on a new city, metro system or train station alone. You arrive aching, dizzy and drenched in sweat, the only traveller among thousands, where nobody knows you or gives a damn, unable to find your hostel, bus or train, and not even knowing how to begin to ask a passer-by for help.
But remember, there’s always a solution. Stay calm, focus, and keep these simple common sense tips in mind and you will get over the hurdles.
One of my blogs, 'Hectic, Electric, Magnetic, Hanoi' was put forward to the last 10 out of hundreds of entries after the organisers asked writers to submit articles explaining what they love so much about their chosen cities.
Thanks Wimdu and Travel Dudes, looking forward to spending my voucher!
In two months of intense travelling I went through Paris, Brussels, Bremen, Berlin, Poznan, Warsaw, Vilnius, St Petersburg and then Moscow. From there I boarded the Trans Siberian Railway, through Yekaterinburg, Irkutsk, Ulan-Ude and on into Ulan Bator, Mongolia. All that was left from there was Beijing, Guilin in Southern China, and finally the last big stretch was Hanoi, the capital of Vietnam.
While I was travelling I wrote all the time; notes, thoughts, stories and dramas. A portion of these writings appeard in the form of a series of blogs for major US online-newspaper the Huffington Post, which has a global following of some 80 million users a month. The series was called 'Track Records'.
If I had to do one thing for the rest of time, I would walk the streets of Hanoi. There’s magic in those streets, where every sense tingles with a vivid intensity.
The colours, sights, smells and sounds you take in with every step and the thunderstorm of motorbikes and taxis that explodes every day.
And the food, ah the food. Those delicate but powerful flavours of the noodles cooked just that little bit differently in each street restaurant, the little baguettes with a myriad of mysterious fillings or the barbecued pork that smokes as it grills on a street corner in the warm evening air.
Perhaps it’s the feisty characters you meet there, whose tough fronts drift away into heart-meltingly honest, unreserved smiles that light up their faces like a firework show.
Dear all.. so it's official now I'm going on a big trip (or maybe a farce) starting in two weeks, travelling from the UK to Vietnam by rail, including the Trans Siberian Railway.
It's a reckless 'end of 20s meltdown', during which I will be spending a disturbing amount of time in small train carriages with questionable toilet facilities and no doubt a good cross-section of bodily odours. Can't wait. And before I go I was wondering if peeps might be able to give me some tips....
Three men stand on a pavement in London looking reluctantly at the scene in front of them. A pile of maybe 20 bulging sacks of waste sit festering at the edge of the Occupy camp off City Road, stewing in the morning sun.
Not that these men are dismayed about them being there. It is after all their job to take them away, and a job they do day in day out all around the city. These council workers aren’t annoyed they’re there; it is that once again the protestors have welched on the deal.
The agreement is, they told me: we give you the refuse sacks if you load the full ones onto our lorry, and we'll take them away free of charge (council tax). But this morning nobody has got up in time. So after standing and waiting, they shut up the back of the lorry and drive off, bemused.
I think we both know things haven't been great for a while now. I haven't tried to disguise the fact that I've been getting frustrated with things you do; I just don't think you have ever given me many options, whether it's ringtones, settings or anything to be honest. I have a mind of my own and you just don't let me be myself.
I look around and I see you, and hear you wherever I go, and it's just always the same thing. I REALLY don't like the way you try to guess what I'm thinking when I write texts; to be honest sometimes the things you think I'm trying to say are just so far off I don't really feel like we're on the same wavelength most of the time.
You can feel the energy around you change as you approach London. It’s something in the atmosphere; the pressure rises and the speed increases as though you were approaching some great vortex.
Perhaps it’s just nerves. It’s a journey I’ve taken too many times to count but more often than not there’s some big reason to be going back to the city I lived in for four years, the place where my career began.
Usually it’s a bit of work that’s plucked me from the forgiving easiness of Nottingham straight into the epicentre. A busy office, an important meeting, an event or gathering that needs me to hit the ground already in top gear. It’s familiar but so are the jitters.