Where I’m Calling From: Manzanares

11 December 2016 // Where I'm Calling From

Words and pictures: Martha Sprackland A river does flow through the centre of Madrid. It’s funny, but when I was here as a teenager I didn’t even know that. I should’ve, not only because it’s common sense that major cities almost always germinate near a waterway or a source – so necessary is it to […]

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Where I’m Calling From: Religious Melancholy

14 October 2016 // Where I'm Calling From

Words and pictures: Martha Sprackland London St Pancras – Paris Gare du Nord I’m on an evening Eurostar train from London to Paris, the first leg of a twenty-two-hour no-fly journey to Madrid, where I’ll be living for the next two months. As I write this I find myself eyeing up my fellow passengers in […]

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Where I’m Calling From

10 August 2016 // Where I'm Calling From

In the first instalment of a new column, Martha Sprackland – one of our poets-in-residence – muses on the humble lawn When I first moved into a flat after getting married and started working the garden I was both cack-handed and idealistic, with visions of an urban paradise clearly out of the reach of either […]

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‘Wild swimming’ – it’s a bit like calling lawn mowing wild vacuuming

31 July 2011 // Miscellany

Despite his initial scepticism, Tom Cox has found himself seduced by the magic of wild swimming. Even though I always made it clear that I only used the place for its swimming pool, people often seemed a little surprised when I told them I had a gym membership. I’m not out of shape, so I […]

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Over The Border #6

26 July 2017 // Over The Border

Words and pictures by Jude Rogers Somehow, out of nowhere, it’s becoming late summer. The stitches of pale, clear lime in the farm fields next door have suddenly become tough cores of corn, their leaves flowering out flamboyantly from the stems, keen invitations for hard hands. The field beyond that is a giddy, golden blonde, […]

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