Rodin and Brussels

Here’s a little distraction from bad health (mine and the world’s): a bit of art history for your Monday. Last week, I was mooching around Paris waiting for my fellow travellers to arrive. Although it was minus 5 degrees, the sun was shining, I had many layers on and an hour to kill, so I…

Garret musings

It’s 11h15 on a Sunday morning in Paris. I could be outside getting a coffee and going for a stroll in the Jardins du Luxembourg (which I did yesterday at 8h, hence the gloominess of the below photo). But instead I’m lingering in the little hotel room up in the rafters, while the other three…

Step 3: Cork to Paris

Just to recap, step 1 was the dramatic dash from Brussels to London. Step 2 was my month in Ireland, which went by in the blink of an eye. It was a lovely relaxing few weeks, with lots of quality time spent with the family. I’m really not rushing into this massive holiday, because the…

Je suis Charlie

The rain that fell this morning felt like tears on my cheeks. When I got home from my run and turned on the television, France was holding a minute of silence for those shot and killed yesterday in the terrorist attack on the offices of Charlie Hebdo. The people standing on the streets of Paris also…

You don’t bring me flowers anymore

  In typical Sylvia style, this week I was sick while the November sun was shining and got better when the November rain began. This is all part of my so-called sabbatical: the ability to stew at home with a cold, instead of being cooped up in an office, and to change my wet clothes at leisure,…

Get me to the church on time (spicy chicken and apricot stew)

This summer, my friend Sally got married to a very nice man called Andy. Their story was all very meet-cute and if you know them, get them to tell you how it all happened. Even better, try to hear the story while drinking a bottle of limoncello made for wedding favours by Sally’s dad. Almost exactly ten…