Tag: France

Nightmare in Béziers

In dream I woke and stood bewitched Before a door of oak and cedar To hear a voice that played upon A song of keys, part lost, part won And tugged and pulled my heart to be there With haunting glimpse of lifetime fixed As though my past had been remixed ➰ Who knocks? – In truth, I had not yet A saving grace … Read More Nightmare in Béziers

Wanton Whimsy: 2CV

And on summer evenings, rich with sun absorbed, We will slip through the CV gate, the two of us, and with a ripple of space-time, find ourselves in Burgundy, where, in a small cafe, hidden from the unworthy, Nicole pretends to be married to a burly chef, though she, too, is chef, and also front of house. And after water iced with lemon as … Read More Wanton Whimsy: 2CV

A Hundred Years of Calais

You took us to your window To see the cliffs of dawn Across the miles they shone like sheets Hung on a washing line We knew, you said, beyond the chalk On scribbled boards you waited And prayed that you were searching, too For those who searched for you… ©Stephen Tanham

#NightMoves : Sodium Stroll, Wimereux

Like most bloggers, I enjoy writing. I also enjoy taking photographs – as many as my long-suffering wife, Bernie, can tolerate, on our travels. One of my favourite styles of photography is black and white – particularly the high-contrast ‘Noir’ mode offered by modern cameras. I recently suppressed the urge to upgrade my ageing Apple laptop in favour of spending the money on a … Read More #NightMoves : Sodium Stroll, Wimereux

Voices in the Mist (2)

Continued from Part One. From a distance it looks too stark to be a monument. The eye is, initially, disappointed as the form makes its modernistic impact. Both the height of the pylons and the width of the base ( a massive 6,000 tonnes of steel-reinforced concrete) look devoid of detail… but this is an illusion, for the Canadian National Monument on Vimy Ridge … Read More Voices in the Mist (2)

Voices in the Mist (1)

We had never been to the First World War monuments and graves in northern France. As a young man, I considered them part of a national mindset that glorified war. But, over the decades, that view was moderated and I realised that such places are the result of something much deeper in the national psyche. And not just national. Like a vast whirlpool, WW1 … Read More Voices in the Mist (1)

#ShortWrytz: Lille Sundance

It was late afternoon in the city of Lille in northern France. We were making our way back to our relative’s house on the outskirts of the centre when we turned a corner and found the sunset breaking through the heavy clouds at the ‘end of the street’. Being January, the sky was rapidly darkening, but suddenly the street was filled with golden light … Read More #ShortWrytz: Lille Sundance

A game of three halves… (2)

It is, still, all of it, only one day… Though now the winds that buffeted the bed-and-breakfast farmhouse have abated. I look at my watch. We have two hours to go before we need to leave to drive across Anglesey to meet a young woman named Juliette, who holds the key to this entire story. She will be waiting, at noon, by the red … Read More A game of three halves… (2)

A game of three halves… (1)

It is, after all, only one day… Have you ever re-assembled a day into a different sequence? Been so involved with its contents that the threads seem to weave themselves, again… and differently. But it is only one day… and at the halfway point she will be waiting; waiting near the red tower where we will meet for the first time. And then the … Read More A game of three halves… (1)

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