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My Friend Tim
[Left to right: Jo, Anna, Tim at the White Lion Inn on our last night in Dorset] It was August of 1984. I was about to begin a year in Dorset, England, when I first met Tim Ovenden. He was destined to be my house-mate in Wimborne Minster (actually a burb of Wimborne, Colehill). He…
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Smoke and Paper
Everyone knows about the effect smoke can have on…well, nearly everything. Smoke damage can be responsible for the loss of furniture, art, clothes and so many other objects. Cigarette smoke is truly an evil presence. Before the smoking ban in pubs of NYC, I would come home stinking of the left-over Marlboros. It was disgusting…
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All Things Must Pass
I’m profoundly glad that I wasn’t home alone when it happened. Most likely the sad event occurred when we were away for three months. No-one was present. Perhaps when our friend Nora came by to water our begonia named Rosie…perhaps it happened then. I hope so. It is not a nice thought that something so…
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The Statue
This post is not about anything that happened on our most recent trip. This goes back to a time, over a year ago when we were having dinner at an outdoor restaurant In Brussels. At the end of the final course, I excused myself to go to the loo. On the way to the back…
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Journey’s End
Pick a window…any window. There’s nothing to see, only white. We entered a fog bank. Fog as thick as whole milk. We’re sailing due west, nearing Long Island. Visibility from our deck window is about ten feet. The end of our three-month journey is about to end. Nothing left, except to get through customs and…
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In The Land of Pooh, The Badger, King Arthur and Beyond: The Excursionist XIII Finale
magic (n) A mysterious quality of enchantment. England is a land of mystery, magic and myth. It is a land of legends of kings and villains of all sorts. Consider this quote: As one wakened suddenly from a beautiful dream, who struggles to recall it, and can recapture nothing but a dim sense of…
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The Glastonbury Tor Blog: The Excursionist XII
[The Tor at the start of our climb. St. Michael’s Tower crowns the hill] Glastonbury is an ancient town nestled on a broad plain near the Mendip Hills in the county of Somerset. It comes with a reputation, like that guy that sat in the last seat of your school bus. You can shop for…
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The Circus: The Excursionist XI
Really great adventures always start with a sign taped to a window of a shop or to a wooden pole along the curb. At least that’s how I found out about the circus. We’re not talking about Barnum & Bailey here or even the Big Apple Circus that visits Lincoln Center every winter. No, this…
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Words From A Footpath: The Excursionist X
[Older footpath signs] It must be my age. It could be my imagination. It certainly is something I don’t fully understand. But, the truth is I think that the English Public Footpaths sometimes call my name. There is a legend among the Northwest Indigenous People that when you hear an owl call your name…you will…
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Barcelona To Bristol: The Excursionist IX
[On the approach to Bristol Airport] The rain wasn’t falling anywhere near us on the morning we boarded the EasyJet plane in Barcelona. I was stuck with a window seat (ok, I had a chance to move to the aisle but I chose to have a view). We soared out over the Mediterranean before making…
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patrickjegan 