When was the last time you used the word, Repose? When was the last time you even heard it?
Repose is one of those old-fashioned words, like eventide or winsome. It conjures an era when there was time in the day for restful contemplation.
Is that why we don’t hear it anymore? Because we’ve run out of time? Because we’re so busy doing all the things that make up our twenty-first century lives that the moments in between this, that and the other thing are just not long enough? Or is it because when we do stop – exhausted, brain dead, pooped, shattered – we fill the quiet with noise, or pull our gaze from the unfocussed distance to the blue screen?
The last time (perhaps the only time) I heard someone use the word repose, I was in Tuscany, working as a volunteer on an organic farm. Lunch was over, it had been drawn out and delicious and full of conversation, as lunch at Il Mulino
tended to be, and our host, Ulrike, declared that she was going for repose.
‘I’m going for repose,’ she said. And she rose from her place at the old wooden table and left the room. Just like that.
I … Continue Reading ››
PIP WILLIAMS – 16 JUNE 2015
Old Dubrovnik is beautiful, but the scars of war remain. War was not what we expected when we arrived in Dubrovnik’s Old Town. We had come to walk the medieval ramparts, gaze at the sapphire blue of the Adriatic Sea, and stroll narrow lanes and the wide thoroughfare of the Stradun, stopping for ice-cream whenever the whim took us. Continue reading
I love trains.
Inside and out they reveal so much about a place and its people.
The train from Rome to Naples is hot and crowded, a far cry from the air conditioned comfort of our journeys north. Before we even start moving, scents of life begin wafting through the carriage. Italy is suddenly more interesting (and a little smellier). As the train idles a man makes his way through the carriage leaving notes written in English on the window sill of each seat. Continue reading