One Easter Sunday, many moons ago, I remember there was some confusion over the delivery of our Easter eggs. My Mum was adamant the Easter Bunny had delivered them, but being the playful bunny he was, he’d hidden them somewhere in the house. Thus ensued a frenzied search for our eggs made of chocolate. We ransacked the house for hours, but it was fruitless. The eggs were nowhere to be found.
It would be easy to move from one city to another, crossing countries and continents, taking in a festival of one kind or another every day of the year. Summer is the crest of the wave, taking advantage, no doubt, of the dry fields and grassy verges on which pagodas, tents and stages are erected in preparation of a day, weekend or even week long festivities. Read more
I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older or the fact that I live in the city, but I’d take a holiday in the countryside over a city break anytime. Walks around hidden, tranquil lakes and grassy mountain trails, drinks by the fireside in small, local bars and drives along narrow, country roads with random pitstops in tiny villages and towns. Read more
I speak from experience when I say our creative aspirations are often neglected. How many times have you heard people say “I’ve always wanted to write a book” or “I used to love painting, but I just don’t have the time now”?