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Christopher Fowler
Posted in
Great Britain
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At this time of the year it feels as if every day is like Sunday - gelid, grey, silent. We could be in the depths of the Kent countryside rather than at one of the world's most trafficked spots, partly because we are beset by national postal, air and rail strikes. A friend has no regrets; after she had been forced to cancel a Christmas holiday in Trieste she felt a sense of relief that she could…
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Christopher Fowler
Posted in
London
Yesterday was glorious, a sharp blue Manet morning, a misty pink Monet afternoon, and I took the day off to walk around the city. I went to buy charity Christmas cards in St Clement Dane. The 'Bells of St Clements' church that provides an oasis of calm in the middle of the Aldwych is one with strong RAF connections from its statue outside to the slates within for fallen pilots. The new shopping…
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