Preparing a book on Rimbaud, hence Charleville. Rimbaud and Verlaine used to visit Bouillon and stay in the Hôtel des Ardennes. My great-grandmother and her mother were chambermaids there. It can't be ruled out that my g-g-gm changed their sheets.

Bouillon.

Another satisfied tourist leaves a review. Bouillon, Rue Saint Nicolas.

Every regular becomes a ghost in their local. Unless the local itself becomes the ghost. I used to come here and dislodge my grandfather Eugène from the bench by the window. And have been dislodged in my turn, and now finally. Café du Centre, Bouillon, 193?-2026.

A lot of what's wrong with the people who run universities can be summarised in the word 'hub', notably, as here, replacing the word 'library' (or llyfrgell as here).

Robert Graves’s house in Deià, Mallorca. His desk, his Aga, his jams (by now probably explosive) and my face in his shaving mirror while he recites 'The Face in thr Mirror' in that mirror on the screen beside me.

A bit late to this. Once again, Stefan Collini's great article for @lrb.co.uk tells the truth about the REF. I'm wondering how we across subjects and universities can start to mobilise in this direction...

Heatwave advice Belgian style: plenty of salt on those chips.

A pair of empty boots, rain and a rail replacement bus. Sunday, distilled

Sea-sculpted tree that looks like an animal skeleton, and proof that, however remote you are, however far from towns and houses and cars, the universal upturned shopping trolley will find you.

Templars square shopping centre (Cowley centre), Oxford ? Looks like same style.

Because it's going so well.

Pob lwc Cymru heddiw. It's time.

Very taken with Bristol Temple Meads Lost Property office. All these characters angry getting ready to go find their owners.

At the risk of introducing some bathos , here's the poem i published in the tls around the 40th anniversary of his death. In my 2nd book, Jilted City.

Jacques Brel, born today in 1929. Here in my home town of Bouillon, quite the young bruxellois on a day out to the provinces. My mother and aunt saw him in concert.

So he did come in the end:

From Didcot and Reading to Paris, where the Coolest Man ou No competition has been won by Gilles Ortlieb. André Chénier a close second.

Faint Mondrian vibe on the approach to Reading station

Long route from work via Osney and the gas works, lots of time to enjoy the springtime growth of pointless aggressive and passive-aggressive signage.

a few pictures from my ... ahem... 'run' yesterday: chilled heron, orders from Christ, and two skeletal leaves through which spring can finally be glimpsed.

I.M.

Cormorant, geese and road cone. Osney tableau in hesitant sun. 5/3/26. I date spring from now.

Anither afternoon gone

Fantastic evening in Palas Print Caernarfon with Niall Griffiths and @benwildsmith.bsky.social for Ben's new book with @calonbooks.bsky.social

Dal yma heddiw, Morrisons dre. Still here today Morrisons Caernarfon.

Pride of place in Morrisons Caernarfon charity book table: top trolling dre, da iawn.

Rosa road, Sheffield, Snake Pass. White peaks.