Three, they say, is the largest number you’ll never need to count. Your eyes decide the Threeness or Unthreeness of things at a glance, along with Twoness, Oneness, Zeroality. Fourness and everything above is different, except when patterned like the spots on ladybirds and…
On a small patch of green beside the library in this close community on the hill, once a year we tell stories in a marquee while the sun blazes, the rain beats and the wind howls.
“Because I just can’t take anymore.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic, we’ve walked round this shopping mall ten times, we’ve been in every shoe shop there is.”
We pull up outside the house and look over at this pale sandstone building in the corner. A For Sale sign leans to the right and trees bend in from the left. It’s an odd looking house. Small church-like windows dot the stone as…
It was my first time in Brighton this summer, sometimes known as little London by the sea. I love coastal cities. I love the way they bring two worlds together and offer everybody everything all in one beautiful sprawling landscape. But Brighton has more…
In Whitby, North Yorkshire, England, the old ruined abbey on the hill overlooks the bay and pulls tourists up the 199 steps it takes to reach it, like the tide pulls the sea. The focal point of the town and a major tourist attraction, this ruined abbey was originally built in the 1200s and is an incredibly atmospheric ruined building to wander around, not least because it forms part of the backdrop for Dracula’s arrival in England in Bram Stoker’s classic.
Belton House is a Grade I listed building in Lincolnshire, England, which sits amid beautiful formal Italian and Dutch gardens. Once the home of the Brownlow/Cust family, it now belongs to The National Trust who open it to the public and run tours. The house is fascinating both outside and in, but the incredible gardens and vast grounds are truly stunning.
He thought, more than anything in the world, that there was nothing worse than holes.
The last straw came when he was walking down the street one day in London. He was looking at how Tower Bridge stood majestic against the pure blue spring sky, its two sibling towers tall above The Thames, and then the next minute his knee hit the pavement and his hand darted out in front of him to take the strain, and he was staring at the stone path so close to his face it took him a moment to fathom what had just happened.
From one side of the building, down the sandstone steps, the library hugs the corner and the theatre waits below a yawn of concrete plaza. On the other side, through the double doors, fountains leap from the pavement in the square and Italian restaurants work from lunch till late at night.