I was lucky enough to be 550 meters up, at the top of Bozburun Tepesi. It was just before sunset and the resin from the pine forests mixed with the Land Rover's diesely, oily, metallic tang. The old thing had had a tough climb up the gravel track, dotted with rocks big enough to take... Continue Reading →
Dalyan Dolmus station
A Formica-wood topped table, a plastic chair and one of the worst cups of coffee I've had in my life. But a view of the local dolmus station across the road from the bakery-cafe. Ancient white Renault 12s rattle past full of families, the back seats wedged with bodies. The short cough and whir of... Continue Reading →
Episode 4 – and so it ends
So, my month of self-imposed watch austerity is up. I’ve done it. No watch but the F has passed my wrist in the last 31 days. What have I achieved? Well, clearly absolutely nothing. This is first-world stuff. Wearing a £7 Casio is not deprivation in even the remotest sense. However, a glass of decent malt... Continue Reading →
Episode 3 – The Devil’s Watch?
A little over a week ago, I decided to lock my watchbox and forsake my usual vintage mechanical, and high-end quartz serious tickers for just one watch. And not any old watch at that - I chose, from Amazon, a £7, resin-cased Casio F-91W, the cheapest of the cheap. A watch for less than the... Continue Reading →
Episode 2 – The Arrival
One thing is guaranteed to brighten up a standard, nose-to-desk sort of day. The arrival of a new watch. Our postman (for we still have such things in Burford as ‘our’ postie) handed over a package this morning, with his usual grin. “Another five mill thinner and it’d have gone through the letterbox,” he said.... Continue Reading →
Episode 1 – Living on the plastic – for a month.
Episode 1 - July 9, 2013 And so it begins... As a self-confessed watch addict, I know I spend too much time, money and effort pursuing the latest Ideal Watch. I spend hours talking with watchie friends, comparing ideas and thoughts on new and vintage watches. I even spend too much time in the morning... Continue Reading →
There’s not been a lot of time for two or three-wheeled ambling recently. Instead, a pretty solid wall of work-borne rush, stress and frustration has kept me off the bikes. So, with an unaccustomed free Sunday afternoon and some sun, I decided to stop beating my head against it, hoiked the keys off the peg... Continue Reading →
MMC Musings in Cotswold Life
When I popped an e-mail over to Cotswold Life offering them a few snaps and some airfieldy musings, I didn't really think they'd publish them. But they have. May edition and a whole double page spread too. I'm delighted. It's so good to see some of these old WWII bases getting the sort of recognition... Continue Reading →
A spring evening’s bimble, being scared and perspective.
I fancied a ride this evening. It's spring. It's light. It's Wednesday. It's been a bitch of a day in the office. That's good enough for me. I had to drop our entry fee for the Village Quiz in at a neighbour's house so thought I'd call by on the Ural. As I set off,... Continue Reading →
It’s not Urals that are unreliable. It’s their owners.
It was the rain that did it. That, and me buggering off for Christmas, leaving the Ural alone, outside under its cover. By the time I’d got back, half the UK’s annual rainfall had found its way into the carburettors. The Ural has two, one for each cylinder. Most of the water was, of course,... Continue Reading →