Returning from a void

Eight months ago I deleted the content from this blog in an attempt to create space in my head. This blog was becoming ultra geeky and needed to be put on ice.

Help! I’m relaxed and detached

I once met a German entrepreneur who told me he never took holidays. ‘It destroys my routine’, he said, ‘and it takes me weeks to get back to the right level of stress’. Personally I thrive on change and disruption and to me, routine feels like early internment. I often think of this German man when I deliberately sabotage a good rhythm.

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Postcard: from a war grave at St Hospice, Cap Ferrat

Today’s postcard is from St Hospice at Cap Ferrat in the South of France.

Cap Ferrat is split into two capes, a small one, sticking out like a thumb to the east and a big cape, the stretched fingers to the west. The fingers is where all the expensive properties are. On the thumb cape the properties are also in the 10+ million Euro range but they would appear to be family owned and probably never change hands. This gives this part of the cape a feeling of established continuity.

Postcard: Art in the Provence

Today’s postcard is from St Paul near Vence, just above Nice on the french Riviera.

St Paul is a medieval village perched on a hill top. Just outside the wall of the citadel is an inn named “la Colombe d’Or”, the Golden Dove. This unassuming inn became a favourite haunt for artists in 1920′ and after.

Postcard: Cannes, the old affair

Another postcard, this time from Cannes in the South of France.

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Cannes, of film festival fame. Red carpets and paparazzi, this is “spot the celebrity” land. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t recognise Bruce Willis if he punched me in the face or Nicole Kidman if she embraced me in comfort, berating bad Bruce. So, sadly I won’t be recognising any celebs today.

Postcard: when it rains

This week I will be sending a few postcards from the village of Saint Jean on Cap Ferrat, a tiny peninsula near Nice in the South of France.

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I wake up to the sound of rain.

Pocket Travel

Do you do this too? Change of seasons and you put on another coat. As you put you hands in your pocket you pull out a city map.

New York. End winter, early spring 2012. The map has pen circles on it. China town – go to this restaurant and nowhere else. East Village – great gallery. Starbucks Times Square – meet Jean-Luc.

A fractal life

Troo Adventure nominated me for an award and in return I would post answers to a Q&A about me. I tried and failed. My “me” is a fractal mess and no linear story will tell the tale. Many thanks to Troo Adventure and I love her travel blog! So instead, I will tell a fractal story.

When I travel

My awareness travels with me.

The place I leave behind disappears like a dream upon waking, and with it, the people I love.

A brush with time

A modern zen Koan: A 19th century house in the Provence versus an off-spec Barratt Home in Milton-Keynes. Spot the difference.

Duh, I hear you think but hold it right there because I’m having a brush with time.