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Tripoli, Lebanon When I next see a piece of soap lying lonely in a dish, I swear I will spend a moment in reflection. After all, soap was always something simple, nothing special, and designed solely to help me wash. When out for my weekly shop, wandering aimlessly past regimented supermarket shelves, I would head straight for the shower gels in their fancy plastic containers. For a gift I would buy something classier. But the key was always simplicity and convenience. Soap was nothing remarkable. It was there merely to keep me[...]

Chamonix, France You are near a mountain summit, your skis are on, or perhaps a snowboard is underfoot, and you have decided to venture off piste. Before dawn, you heard the crump of distant explosive as local rangers cleared the pistes of powder crystals, but for you it is different. You enjoy the fresh, uncleared snow, which is so thin and light that when you ski it rises to your knees. Below you extends a gleaming slope, twinkling in the morning, and you cannot wait to get started. Briefly, you check around[...]

London, United Kingdom I have done it. I have survived my first Christmas Fair, the Spirit of Christmas at London’s Olympia. Me, Mr Grumpy, who has long claimed Christmas is for others and he should have nothing to do with it. It has always been too difficult. I am the one, actually one of many, who leaves shopping until the last minute. I am the one running down the High Street last thing on Christmas Eve, panicking because I have yet to buy a present. Each year I promise to do better[...]

Young and Jackson Hotel, Melbourne, Australia I am unsure it is good to see a naked lady before lunchtime and, if you are the lady, I am certain you would be distressed. I could see her from my table in central Melbourne down one end of the room. The Australians call her Chloe, she has become a household feature, and as I gazed at her near-perfect female form a tidal wave of sympathy began to pour from me. Chloe looked so terribly sad. Her real name was Marie, although even that may[...]

Chagford, Devon, United Kingdom Let me own up from the beginning. I live in fume-filled London, maybe four hours’ drive from Devon. I am one of those a Devonian might call a grockle. Yet thanks to a lifelong friend’s suggestion, I decided to visit Chagford. It was then I began to wonder. There is no question, Chagford is a beauty. On the face of it, life is a wow. As a premier tourist destination in Devon, horses do clip-clop through its narrow streets. Meanwhile the buildings look so old English, they could[...]

Dunmail Raise, Cumbria, United Kingdom Walking in the footsteps of history can make me behave oddly. I realised that, as I scrambled up the bouldered path leading to the Lake District’s Grisedale Tarn from the busy main road below. The path had so much history, it was impossible to avoid being drawn in. I was following the same route, passing the same waterfalls, listening to the same crunching beneath my feet, as did King Dunmail’s warriors, more than a thousand years before me. The year was 945AD and King Dunmail was ruler[...]