The Irresponsible Traveller

First-hand destination reports, news and editorial

  • Arab Spring

    Arab Spring

    At the risk of appearing … er … irresponsible, and being shot down by those with greater knowledge I’m minded to vent my spleen.  Right now I’m feeling guilty.  If I were  Libyan I’d feel betrayed.  Downwind of continuing debacles in Afghanistan and Iraq, and dazzled by the speed of events, the international community is

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  • Live Every Day

    Live Every Day

    A stooped old woman leans on her zimmer, eyes unfocused, mouth flapping like a clockwork tortoise – I doubt she knows where she’s going or why.  From an adjacent ‘activity’ room a painfully earnest piano hammers out All Things Bright and Beautiful, the chords mixing with an odour of stale urine that manages to overpower

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  • Italy With Kids, Without Sex

    Italy With Kids, Without Sex

    An early morning amore is arrested by three small children, only partly unaware of their poor timing, leaping onto the bed like puppies. ‘They’re becoming more intense aren’t they?’ remarks my wife in one sustained exhalation.  Time to get up and at least take pleasure in smelling the Segafredo. I light the gas and charge

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  • Curry Paste to Italy

    Curry Paste to Italy

    Mango chutney – twelve jars, curry paste – ten jars, HP sauce – twelve bottles, basmati rice – 25kg, mature cheddar – a box, baked beans – an entire shelf, brussels sprouts – a sack, dog wormer… don’t ask.  You’d be forgiven for thinking our next stop was a local newspaper photo call followed by

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  • It’s All Nick Clegg’s Fault

    It’s All Nick Clegg’s Fault

    A long-awaited child-free few days in Malta with the girlfriend I married has turned into one night in Eric Tweddle’s caravan over in the Lakes.  Now, not that I have anything against Cumbria, but swapping a 5-star press junket for a night in a stationary tin tent located in England’s wettest county doesn’t seem the

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  • Fair Lady?

    Fair Lady?

    Until recently my only sighting of The Lady was a glimpse of a mid-September edition which had filtered down though the mixed media detritus of our verging-on-the-out-of-control home, to reside semi-permanently on the cistern of the downstairs lav.  This was a one off voucher copy following the placing of a speculative small ad describing our

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