Confessions of a Theatre Snob

As is the way of things, Corinne and I are sitting in a pub in York, talking about theatre productions we've seen recently (in her case,...

1895, Thor Bridge, Hampshire, the night of the full moon. A gunshot, a locked door, and behind it a woman lay dead. Only the famous detectiv...

Last weekend was the Robin Hood’s Bay Victorian Weekend. J and I went two years ago , when I had so much fun that I hatched a plan to hire a...

‘What do you mean you don’t know how to pin curl?!’ Dean sounds slightly aghast. 'Well, I don’t!' A week or so ago, I bought a prett...

Corinne and I are sitting in a pub in Lamb’s Conduit Street. She has a glass of wine, but for once, I’m on the lime and soda. We’re waxing a...

‘We need to go and look for snoods. Now that’s not something you hear us say every day!’ We’re well into the afternoon of our second Pickeri...

Back in January, when we started walking the Wolds Way, I said I'd update as we went along (*cough* sorry about that). Today, we final...

Every year, on holiday, there is a moment where I consciously think ‘this is the moment I want to save for later’. The moment that I can rec...