Monthly Archives: October 2014

Wailing bagpipes and sweet guitars (Rousse)

The awful wailing sound coming from the direction of the stage was TM on bagpipes. “He should stick to the guitar”, I muttered. Then CI took the stage. Her tunes were much better. Then someone said it was TPR’s turn. … Continue reading

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From a cliff top penthouse to a pokey Glasgow bedsit (Rousse)

TPR and I lived in a tiny, but gorgeous, penthouse suite perched on a cliff with beautiful views of the blue sea crashing onto the rocks 100 feet below. We liked to leap from the cliff edge into the water, … Continue reading

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Bike crime in Humshaugh (Rousse)

My cousin N and I were cycling across Northumberland to Hexham on his blue bike. When we reached Humshaugh I asked if we could stop for a while to admire the Georgian high street. N agreed, but only on the … Continue reading

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Unwanted romantic advances, a “lost” suitcase, and death at the fun run (Rousse)

I’d loved him for some time now, but his drunken advances, although flattering, were not welcome – especially in front of my parents. When he followed me upstairs to my hotel room I was suddenly overcome with a chill of … Continue reading

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A temporary loss of digits and dancing to the Wombles (Rousse)

One of us was required to chop off all digits on the hands. TPR bravely volunteered. Then he headed off to Reading to meet MP before the big party. They spent the morning engaged in geeky conversation and activities. I … Continue reading

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A dead grandmother, a muscular tramp, and a lost wallet (Rousse)

I spent the night before the dinner at my Granny T’s house. She was looking remarkably well – and indeed fashionable – for someone who had been dead for twenty years. On the evening of the big event itself I … Continue reading

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A party castle and six in a bed (Rousse)

We’d been sharing our big double bed with four PhD students for some time when one day I found a gift bag on my pillow. Inside there was a bottle of wine and a card. The present was from F’s … Continue reading

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An audience with James Herriot (Rousse)

When I heard the exciting news that the guest speaker was James Herriot (or, more precisely, James Alfred Wight) I altered my plans so that I could stay a bit longer at Sighthill and meet the famous veterinary surgeon turned … Continue reading

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