My school days were plagued by the annual July ritual of the French mistress asking each girl in turn, “Comment vas-tu passer tes vacances?” I grew up in Kent’s gin-and-Jag commuter belt, so Italy, Spain and France were favoured destinations. …
How Outlander resurrected Culross
If you stumbled across Culross on a summer’s day, you could be forgiven for thinking you’d wandered into a Dutch master’s painting. And you wouldn’t be entirely wrong. The charismatic, curiously foreign-looking Fife village could be the lost cousin of …
Why Scotland sacrificed its wilderness
When my aunt met my uncle, he was a pipe-smoking deerstalker, employed by a Highland estate to manage a herd of reds across some 20,000 acres. He had a team of terriers for fox control, he often rehabilitated injured birds …
Geordie Shore is bourgeois now
“And girl it looks so pretty to me, like it always did; Oh like the Spanish City to me, when we were kids”, purred Mark Knopfler on the Dire Straits track “Tunnel of Love”. “So rock away, rock away; Cullercoats …
Escaping the Seventies class war
It happened in Teignmouth. Drizzly Devon on a summer’s day in the early Seventies. We’d come back to the coach park early, Mum and me, having explored the town. In a shack at the gate was a man selling Mars …
How Butlin’s set us free
In August 1957, a 15-year-old boy, on holiday with his family at Butlin’s camp in Filey, Yorkshire, jumped on stage for the first time during the thrice-weekly morning audition for Butlin’s National Talent Contest. His brother Mike joined him in …
The snobbery of Brits abroad
Few of the many holidaymakers photographing their artisanal breakfast for a sunlit post on Instagram will have heard of Albert Smith. But they owe him a moment’s reflection: for if anyone can be said to have perfected the packaged visuals …
France, the last bastion of bullfighting
Bordeaux might be the capital of the French wine industry, but visit in summer and you can entertain yourself with another kind of claret. Blood. I don’t mean from the broken noses of the city’s Top 14 rugby team, Bordeaux …
Italy’s corrupt beach politics
Italy has almost 8,000km of coastline, but going to the beach is a bit like trying to sneak into a nightclub: the cool cats and slick service are enticing, but it’s also crowded, expensive and sometimes depressing. Even on a …