A Camino Poem

If I were to tell you something of my camino you would nod and say uh huh, as though you knew it.   But my camino is a million sights and smells, the cuckoos calling, a smile, a limp, mud, sun, breezes, flowers and snails. Rain. For hours. Hanging my laundry on a wire line,… Read More A Camino Poem

A Bleak Roman Outpost

In the very north of England near the Scottish border, the remnants of the Roman occupation live on. Vindolanda lies on a flat desolate patch of land exposed to the frigid northern UK winds.   There is a pretty gully where the cafe, modern museum, gift shop and toilets sit alongside a wee stream. The main site however, is desolate. Its… Read More A Bleak Roman Outpost