I love being lost. Not the phone-dead, shops-closed, only-other-person-in-sight-is-picking-scabs-and-shouting lost, or the bears-will-eat-me-and-no-one-will-ever-find-my-bones lost, but the I'm-not-quite-sure-where-I-am lost. The coming out of the underground and not knowing which direction to go lost. The heading in a general direction but no particular path kind of lost. London is an easy place to get lost, of course. … Continue reading Lost in London →

I wander the backstreets of Wimbledon and Morden, on my way to the train or underground station, going to the post office or just ambling, and am struck by the row houses. Space is at a premium this close to London, but I've seen row houses in small villages where there would be room to … Continue reading The Row Houses of Merton →