A failed ascetic awakes

I was strangely drawn at a young age to the concept of asceticism.  Perhaps it was the collocation of living as a child in a country at war, where people survived against the odds in an environment of economic sanctions, and those ridiculous cotton dresses which passed for school uniforms, over which we were permitted... Continue Reading →

Lucky Number Seven

I am reminded, as I take my first sip, of the cellar at the Grand Hotel in Grahamstown (in South Africa; the country, not the region, which, by the way, inhabitants refer to as Southern Africa). For those who do not know, this treasure of wines, under low wooden-beam ceilings of various heights which leads... Continue Reading →

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