Middlefocus

Books are like old friends. That's certainly the case with this one that an old (and still) friend presented to me as a gift 60 or so years ago. It says something about the nature of gifts back in those days - the pleasure of the printed word. It's on my reread list and I'm wondering whether it will feel dated by today's standards. That's because I reread King Solomon's Mines a while ago and felt that some of its themes and attitudes were of their time and could be considered inappropriate by today's standards. So in preparation for my reread I did some background research into the Coral Island. That's a story in itself. I'm still going ahead with the book and will try to recover the experience of that first read. Six decades ago. I love the gift of the printed word.  A gift that keeps on giving. Yes, books are like old friends...the older the nicer. More: Interested in the book, its author and creation? Check out the  Wikipedia a...

For a place such a short flight time from home and only one hour's time difference, Marrakech is a world apart. We were staying in a riad in the Medina and had not the receptionist arranged to come and meet us somewhere central we would never have found our way through the warren of narrow, packed streets. Saying that, at the end of our stay we could easily find our residence and return to places in the Medina we had marked for a return visit. The first task after some rest was to get oriented and what better to do that than getting lost? Really? Friendly passers-by shouted out directions, even urging us to follow them and suggesting visits. The pungent odour of where we had been directed to was not what we had been expecting. It was an open air camel tannery with stone troughs where the hides were pummelled and stretched. We were offered a large sprig of mint to sniff away the smell but politely declined and made off. But to where? The friendly passers-by were nowhere to be seen. ...

The Western Wind by Samantha Harvey Glad I stayed with it. **** I almost gave up on this book as initially it moved too slowly for me but I'm glad that I stayed with it and almost wish it hadn't finished. The story unfolds in 15th century Oakham, a village backwater in Somerset. Its central character is a priest, John Reve who narrates the story in reverse chronological order about a wealthy parishioner, Thomas Newman, who has been swept away to his death in a nearby river. I wondered about the unusual chronological device and the reason for it becomes clear in the final chapter. I found myself going back to the beginning to try to ascertain the ending! Much of the story takes place in the village church and particularly in the new confessional booth that has been constructed there. Parishioners confess litanies of sins in the run up to Lent but will anyone confess to the killing of Newman? It becomes clear that the priest John Reve has a secret of his own, something he d...

Could not see at first Pictured where others pointed Lone tiger resting. - Ranthambore National Park, India