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Bordeaux, oui.
Cognac, oui.
But Angoulême… Still yes?
Unless you’re an avid cartoon fan (I’ll explain more about this later), Angoulême may be somewhat of an enigma. A sign-post flashing past, the “Is it worth us stopping by?” question fleetingly hopscotching through your thoughts.
Well, to save such indecision, I’ll answer your question for you. Yes, indeed it is.
I loved Verona and Lake Garda as the perfect week away.
Especially before Easter, as the season starts and when the traffic is reasonable and it’s all round not too taxing, when things are just opening up and the staff have more time and there’s a catching undercurrent of excitement for the season ahead when it’s quiet around the lake and when the boats are a rarity upon it. Take a copy of by far the most interesting and informed book on the area ‘111 Places in Verona and Lake Garda That You Must Not Miss’ by Petra Sophia Zimmermann.
An Eclectic Collection of Latin American Craft: From Designer Bowls To Tequila
I was warmly greeted by Brendan as I ambled out of Dublin airport security. It’s been a while since I was last in Dublin and his easy charm and humour made me regret that as he escorted me over to the Jameson's Bow Street Distillery, for a couple of days whiskey blending and tasting to launch the new Bow Street 18 YO Batch 2. In half an hour we had covered our similar family histories, Brexit and exchanged a jokey tale or two. It was good to be back.
What a blessed, fertile, cultured and cultivated island Madeira is. This ‘island of eternal spring’ was a ‘paradise of naturalists’ with its exoticism attracting Thomas Cook and Joseph Banks. I’ts immensely fertile, everything seem to grow here, having been colonised by Henry the Navigator who introduced the sugar cane from Sicily and the Malvesia (Malmsey) vine, mentioned by Shakespeare’s Falstaff, from Crete. And it’s a big enough island to house different dialects with some pronouncing the second syllable of Madeira with an ‘E’ and others with an ‘I’.
Danesfield House and Spa evoked 50's movies as we cruised up the steep winding hill through the gardens in the Aston Martin Vantage, before stopping at a tree lined drive dominated by an imposing gothic clock tower. This vast sprawling and imposing Neo-Tudor mansion was completed in 1991 by architect W.H. Romaine-Walker for a soap magnate's son, Robert Hudson. Later during the war it was requisitioned by the Air Ministry as a reconnaissance and photography unit and was known as RAF Medmenham.
One word “friendly” sums up Banff’s Sunshine Village ski resort, but do not be fooled by thinking that all its slopes are flattering even to the lazy skier. There is a good spread of runs to keep the interest of all skills within a mixed abilities party across three mountains, all within the UNESCO World Heritage Site - Banff National Park. Cruise to your heart’s content through tree lined trails, take the lifts to the top of Lookout Mountain for some more demanding slopes, or tackle the ‘Double Diamond Blacks’ on Goat’s Eye Mountain.
Well, I was born there, so I figured I should spend my stag weekend there too. I called up my oldest chum and soon to be best man, whom I used to party with in New York many years ago, and told him we were getting the band back together and returning to the Big Apple for a last blast.
The flight over with British Airways was smooth and hilarious due to my companion Mr D Lynsdale, who charms everyone with his laid back, gentle nature and infectious good humour, abetted by some some moderate drinking of fine Champagne.
The mere mention of “the largest ski area in the world” gets a surprisingly mixed reception. The span of reactions is wide whilst some skiers feel threatened and daunted by the sheer scale of so many elements, through those who feel they have to cover everything to be able to match their peers, to dedicated skiers who relish the prospects of skiing their hearts out.
‘What beauties doth Lisboa first unfold,’ gasped Byron’s Childe Harold and certainly the city is highly reminiscent of Paris decades ago. Her special quality consists partly from the exhilarating light falling on her blue-tiled walls and white stone pavements: a clarity assisted by cloudless skies. Indeed the climate was fabulous as, over the New Year, the sun not only shone it penetrated with a refreshing breeze coming off the Atlantic off whose coast Lisbon is the only European capital.
