Antipodes

Depuis des années, je ne pense plus à mon attaque de scarlatine , quand j'étais un jeune garçon. C'était une maladie très contagieus...

As a boy on the rural outskirts of South Grafton, I lived just a stone’s throw away from a pristine paradise: Susan Island, a luxuriant rain...

In the middle of the 1950s, the Anglican cathedral of Grafton (my birthplace in Australia) was a focal point in my young existence. A ...

In the dark lounge room of the Walker house at Waterview, there was an upright piano. I had started to take weekly piano lessons from an old...

In the Melbourne press, an article by Leslie Cannold [ display ] draws attention to the fact that Australian school children are being bra...

This year, my home town is celebrating the 150th anniversary of its proclamation as a so-called city ... which no longer exists in reality, ...

The title I chose for my maternal genealogy notes is A Little Bit of Irish . This is in fact the title of a sentimental Irish song that I us...

On certain occasions, in unexpected situations, Google's street-view gadget (mentioned in my previous post) is capable of rising to phot...

I remember vaguely seeing a movie that contained a dialogue along the following lines: QUESTIONER : What made you want to leave England? ENG...

Whenever the Tour de France runs into cold rain, icy winds, fog or sleet, you can be sure that a French cycling commentator, to describe th...

We all need a vision of Paradise, with a capital P, otherwise we would surely be tempted to step out of the rat race, in one way or another,...

Just as few people apart from me—born beyond Waterview, South Grafton—can know that a chook is a chicken, or that a poop is a smelly human...