by Caspar Bowes

I find within myself the tendency to believe, when dwelling on such things (not often, it must be said; perhaps once a month at a most generous estimate) that our vinegar fungus (mère, in the French tongue) is a contented entity.To give you a brief, potted history (in so doing I fear I have n…

Sand gives way to limestone in the soils to the north of Châteauneuf-du-PapeThe length of Pall Mall is festooned with smart clubs, all offering the chance to step out of the hurly-burly of the street outside (more or less of a hurly burly, one wonders, than when the area was frequented by thos…

Other end of the day, but the same viewI've just come in from the garden. 22.17 and still the last vestiges of the day linger. And Being outside again gave me that feeling - a feeling I have increasingly often at this time of year - a wondering: why do we spend so much time indoors? …

A cool and persistently wet Sunday early in a Wiltshire June seems as good a place as any to talk about Bordeaux. From the depths of an en primeur campaign one gets a particular view of the market and a campaign like the present one (I say "like" although I cannot recall any precedent to this curiou…

I've just been out for a walk. It was the sort of walk that becomes essential in late afternoon to someone who has been indoors all day caring for an ill child. Isabella was awake much of last night and, after a short period of sickness, spent the hours of darkness very restless and with a raging te…