To the happy few who have followed this blow-by-blow account of our Interrail adventures, I bring good tidings. This is the final instalment. There is light at the end of the tunnel. Monday 24 June (cont.) When we're away from home for more than two nights we like to choose a "local" in which to…
No Flixbus today Our first Italian train of this trip would be the 09:39 Frecciarossa (red arrow) from Trieste to Milan. Friday 21 June The first-class seats were comfortable, though when the brakes were applied it was a bit scary. The complimentary "meal" consisted of a stupid cardboard box containing two biscuits and a tiny…
After two nights in Zadar, an insanely early taxi for the 07:00 Flixbus to Ljubljana. Seven and a half hours' travel, including a wait at Zagreb for our connection, but such is life. Tuesday 18 June How lovely to see Zagreb bus station again - just enough time for a snack and a breakfast beer…
It was hot - well over 30c - when the Arta Line catamaran from Split docked at Hvar (the trip takes exactly an hour). The Pjaca, or Trg, one of the largest squares in Croatia, is surrounded by fine Venetian buildings and the Cathedral of Saint Stephen. There were plenty of souvenir shops and restaurants but…
I refer to the so-called Festive Season. Myself, I quite enjoyed it - although it wasn't so good for Anne and her father, who both caught Norovirus. Somehow I avoided it. We went up to Wirral to see Mum before Christmas, then endured a long and complicated train journey home (storm damage to the overhead…
Regular readers (both of you) know that I come back to visit the Wirral, or just "Wirral", as some prefer, most months of the year. This is where I went to school, and where my parents still live. I sleep in the same room I slept in when I was six. Space is the depository…
Grampa Hugh Wight was always smiling. I have a photo of him as a goalkeeper with his local amateur team, in the ubiquitous jersey and cap. My grandparents lived in King’s Park, Glasgow, less than a mile from Hampden Park, where cup finals and international fixtures were held. At one time it was the biggest…
In 1979, at the start of my second post-graduate year in Oxford, I was awarded the prestigious and lucrative Osma Studentship. I was required to spend at least six weeks in Madrid. Not that I was complaining. I immediately spent a good chunk of the money on a Shergold double-neck guitar (so far, not a…
The Wight Stuff 