Browsing: Tipples

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Gerrard Street is filled with the Friday night throng. Lights shimmer and glint and delicious smells swell up from busy basement kitchens. The rain pours down in heavy torrents, the streets look like a scene from Blade Runner, steam and smoke rising from the drains.

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In my dreams I have a herb garden like the one I visited recently at…

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“Outsize ants crawl over crazy paving at the Klinec homestead’s terrace. The vista in their midst – Medana’s vineyards…” Ahead of London’s RAW fair of ‘natural wines’, Douglas Blyde visits participating country, Slovenia.

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Might I point out that sprint has sprung. Isn’t it obvious? Cold wintery nights, grey…

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We stroll up to the front of the hotel, searching for a likely entrance. There’s nothing. We enter the hotel through the revolving door and search the foyer. Still nothing. We find a doorman and discreetly make enquiries about a ‘Luggage Room’. “Ah” he says, sizing us up. “Outside, look for the small, black door to your right – you need to knock”.

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“Picture the following scene. I’m standing in the top room of a Dublin pub, late on a Thursday night. Nothing that unusual about that, but there’s a coffin in front of me.”

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January 24th usually passes without significance – falling, as it does, between Burns’ Night on the…

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