Monthly Archives: May 2007

The Man Who Wasn’t Quite

Last night in Calais I heard my first mysterious tale. The Art Museum close to the Richlieu park has a daily visitor. He is old, perhaps as much as eighty; tall with a shock of white hair and long beard, … Continue reading

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Crossing with Thomas Coryat

Coryat gets Going My Observations of France I was imbarked at Dover, about tenne of the clocke in the morning, the fourteenth of may, being Saturday and Whitsun-Eve, Anno 1608, and arrived in Calais (which Caesar calleth Ictius portus, a … Continue reading

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Crossing Me

On the waterfrontWhitstable last night for Oysters and swanky fish and chips. No sign of the many YBA artists who live here; perhaps they are all walking to Venice as well: for this summer’s Biennale. Dover saw a little sun … Continue reading

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DAY ONE two

Passports tell stories, don’t they? The old one I have swapped to enable this trip was a litany of new lives I’ve lived over the last decade in London, New York, Cairo, Budapest and Ljubljana. These seem to be key … Continue reading

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DAY ONE

Western civilization is becoming universal, the race a homogenous one. And before we die, half the variety of the picture will be gone; as if a showman had sold his swing-boats, his hoop-las, his fat women, and even his merry-go-round, … Continue reading

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Dover, Sunday: girls, champers and guns

“When the King’s messenger came there, they gave 3d in winter and 2d in summer for horse passage. The burgesses found a steersman and 1 other assistant. If there was more labour it was hired with his own money.” From … Continue reading

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Dover and Writers

“We must love one another or die.” The poet W.H. Auden has been a source of comfort for many years. I discovered him at school, wrote my dissertation about him at University, and have returned to his works, poetry and … Continue reading

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“Oh reason not the need.”

In 1603, another plague year in London, William Shakespeare took his players on a tour. The Chamberlain’s men visited Bath, Rochester and came here, to Dover. Was this the time that he wrote, or at least visualized, King Lear? That … Continue reading

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Where ignorant armies clash by night

…really neither joy, nor love, nor lightNor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain If you are standing on the deck of a cross channel ferry headed for France and looking back to land then I reckon that Shakespeare takes … Continue reading

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He came to spread success, and he has spread it…

Above, from The Dovonian, the Dover College magazine, summer 1963. Either I mistake your shape and making quite,Or else you are that shrewd and knavish spriteCall’d Robin Goodfellow. Fairy to Puck: A Midsummer Night’s Dream Act II Sc 1. Bushy … Continue reading

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