Aldeburgh HighTide Festival blog


Aldeburgh HighTide Festival, Sept 2015HighTide Festival 2015

Hadn’t been to Aldeburgh in years. Having tried out the Festival last year at its previous haunt in Halesworth, was anxious to go again. Quality of the work last year was so high and anyway, who wouldn’t want an opportunity to go to Aldeburgh?! Further excuse came in the shape of dear swimming friend, Judy, who has a house not far away, near Southwold. and was generous enough to offer it as a weekend stay. Gorgeous it is too. Thanks for some splendid hospitality – as indeed was served out to us by HighTide’s PR in the shape of the inimical Borkowski agency. Thanks to them!Aldeburgh Sept 2015Aldeburgh Sept 2015

Below, some general pix of my three companions, Judy, Jess and Yvonne, Aldeburgh beach (again!) and despite thunderous weather forecast for the next day, Sunday, enjoying blue skies along the beach at Southwold along with other hearties from the great British public. Judy, ever bold, nothing daunted, even enjoyed a dip afterwards declaring it one of the best of the year. I wished I’d been braver. Brought my cossie, just in case, but cried off at the last moment. what a wimp!Aldeburgh Sept 2015Aldeburgh Sept 2015

Southwold seaside, like so many south of England beaches a throw-back in time; deck chairs, beach huts, a stroll along the pier, fish ‘n chips.  The travails of modern life slip away…

The prom at Southwold, Sept 2015

Childhood – how times move on

Once upon a time, a very long time ago I lived in a hospital, The Coppice, in Nottingham.

It was a smallish mental hospital run by my father. Keith Woddis (formerly Gideon Mordecai).The CoppiceNow it has become this

I get such a funny feeling looking at this spot where there used to be a bowling green for the patients and a clock golf green where I played.

The centre building is where we had our lodgings, my father, mother, my brother Paul and I. All so strange. 65 years ago.

Life moves on. One’s memories remain in aspic.

Summertime in London 2015

Barb Jungr: British diva extraordinaire


Summer time in London…

If you haven’t encountered Barb Jungr in the past decade or two, then you’ve been missing out on a singer and someone very special – a chanteuse in the European tradition, who hails from Rochdale in Lancashire but whose spirit roams the world. Continue reading

Greek tragedies

Greek Tragedies,

The title of Kate Adie’s collection of this week’s reports from Our Own Correspondent highlighting the awful, inevitable relevance of the Greek classics to our current day. Excellent reports, especially from Athens and Beirut’s performance of Antigone by women of the Shatial refugee camp.