Run the line

Sometimes the YouTube algorithm gets it right. This video popped up on my suggested list. Runner Beau Miles retraces 43 km of an old Australian railway line in his back yard, searching for the old line, searching for meaning.

These last couple of weeks, I’ve been discovering hidden writings, hidden stories, hidden meanings among Mum’s belongings. My dad loved railways. His mother lived in Australia. I love exploring new places and digging into the history of where I am living (only today I rediscovered a couple of maps from where I lived in Bermondsey, London in 1894 and 1914). Somehow, this video brought these strands together.

Walking through Brixton at night

Map of a walking route between Oval and Herne Hill.
Oval to Herne Hill via Brixton (Image: Google Maps)

I’ve missed a few Throwback Thursday posts over the last few weeks because of … reasons. This is one that I’ve had in draft form for a while.

It involves a visit to London and a surprising encounter with a stranger at night in Brixton.

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Moulinex blender lamp

Moulinex food blender exploded into parts
Moulinex-ploded

This week I’ve started a project to restore a very precious gift, from a very precious period of my life, my Moulinex blender lamp.

In the autumn of 1996, I moved into Flat 3, Lansdowne Centre, Law Street, Bermondsey. At the time I thought this would be a sojourn before moving in with a friend but I settled in quickly and it remains today one of the best places I’ve ever lived.

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There is no such thing as a stupid question

St Mary’s College, University of St Andrews, 1990–1991

One of the most important lessons I ever learned was while I was in my fourth and final year at St Mary’s College, University of St Andrews and it had nothing to do with what I was studying, practical theology and Christian ethics.

The lesson I learned was, there is no such thing as a stupid question if you don’t know the answer.

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“Did you see the Bears game last night?”

Me and my friend DC in Berkeley, California on the NYC World Tour 1992

It’s 1992, the National Youth Choir of Great Britain are about five weeks into an eight week world tour and we’ve just arrived in Brisbane, on Australia’s east coast.

For most of the tour—don’t ask what happened in Sydney—we were relying on home-stay accommodation with local choirs and churches, mostly. The drill was the same whenever we rolled into a new city: drop off at a church or school, meet our hosts and then head back to theirs to settle in.

My best mate Danny and I were billeted together for the entire tour, so off we headed to our new host’s house in the outskirts of Brisbane.

Continue reading “Did you see the Bears game last night?”