Tag Archives: husband

A marathon in Australia (Rousse)

Posted on June 29, 2018 by

The message in very untidy writing on an old scrap of paper was from HJ’s husband R. His invitation to TPR was to travel with R to Australia to run a marathon. Advertisements

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Champagne-guzzling errant husband is useless at packing (Rousse)

Posted on June 25, 2018 by

TPR and his sister SG had broken off from our main party to take seats in the hotel’s poshest bar. When I spotted them they were working their way through an elaborate Champagne tasting tray, the most expensive item on … Continue reading →

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Bigamist escapes to Africa on the cruise ship Botswana (Rousse)

Posted on June 24, 2018 by

I was a bigamist five times over and now feared detection. So, dressed in a white sailor’s uniform complete with brass buttons, I escaped the police by boarding the cruise ship Botswana in Ullapool harbour. I looked forward to completing … Continue reading →

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Wife conducts holiday affair under husband’s nose (Rousse)

Posted on May 18, 2018 by

It was hard work on holiday having both a boyfriend and a husband. Happily I found a way to accommodate them both. While TPR slept each morning, I would get up early and meet NI to play on the beaches, … Continue reading →

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Introducing the London Dockland Golden Pyramid Cinema Complex and Ski Resort – and a skier in a Brian May wig (Rousse)

Posted on May 16, 2018 by

KPMG had poured millions into the construction of the London Dockland Golden Pyramid Cinema Complex and Ski Resort. The first time that I visited it I was convinced that I spotted my school friend KC with her husband and two … Continue reading →

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An encounter with a narcissist robot (Rousse)

Posted on May 8, 2018 by

I was an unexpected, and unwelcome, guest at the house of a woman who was in my year at school. We barely knew one another. I had simply spoken to EC, a retired accountant, at a couple of reunions in … Continue reading →

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Human horse travels uncomfortably across the Atlantic (Rousse)

Posted on April 26, 2018 by

Normally a seat in the second row on a transatlantic flight would mean plenty of leg room – perhaps even a bed – but not on this service. I was sitting directly behind a mother and a baby, both of … Continue reading →

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