Noah’s Rover
Meg and I are sitting on the stairs outside the school. There’s a tiny wee boy from Carly’s class sitting with us, looking very shy. Meg’s phone rings. Yep. No, don’t worry. There’s only one student here at the … Continue reading
Author Archives: Kate Bailward
Make ’em laugh
A game of poker. With teenagers. Hyperactive ones at that. I must be mad. This particular class contains Simone, who had a fabled near-brush with death a few years ago. Had he not had ants in his pants, he’d be … Continue reading
Posted in Teaching Like a Maniac
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Fly me to the moon and let me play among the lobsters
Maybe it’s the English-accented Italian, or our clothes. Maybe it’s that we’ve turned up somewhere between 9 and 9.30. Maybe it’s just the fact that they’ve never seen us before and put two and two together, but as soon as … Continue reading
Travelling without moving
I’m most definitely lost. I’ve been driving for 75 minutes already and haven’t seen a road sign for the past 20. The road on which I’m driving looks like it’s still under construction and I have to say that I’m … Continue reading
Delayed reactions
Puffing into Bercy, having crossed Paris in rush hour with about five metric tonnes of luggage in tow, I congratulate myself on having made it in time for the train and without having aroused *too* much Parisian ire. This was … Continue reading
Let the train take the strain
There’s the usual scrum for the Exeter train at Waterloo. It’s always announced very late, and you can spot the people waiting for it. They stare hungrily at the departure board, poised to leap into action every time the board … Continue reading
Bon Appétit?
I spent three days in Paris and only ate one decent meal. That’s not a good batting record for a country that gave the world Cordon-Bleu and Haute Cuisine, along with the fathers of modern cookery, Carême and Escoffier. French … Continue reading
Una Gita Italiana
I’m on a blog holiday today, taking part in Michelle’s Gita Italiana over at Bleeding Espresso. Why don’t you pop on over there and have a read? There’ve been some great entries already, from writers all over Italy, and I’m … Continue reading
Posted in Travelling Like a Maniac
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Left for Love
Parisians are cold, haughty and unhelpful. Oh, and did I mention intolerant of anyone who comes from outside Paris, let alone France? Everyone says it, so it must be true, right? On my short experience of the city, however, I … Continue reading
Posted in Travelling Like a Maniac
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The power of caffeine
It may be 30 years since the Strage di Bologna, but Centrale train station still bears the scars of the terrorist bomb that ripped it apart on 2 August 1980. Outside the building the main station clock forever shows 10:25, … Continue reading
Posted in Travelling Like a Maniac
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