Issue 142

Our first regular dentist was the ancient Dr McIntyre, who was on the first floor off Cathedral Square in the then small but undiminished Christchurch. There was a clanking open-frame lift with pantographic doors, but one felt safer taking the wide polished wooden stairs up to the linoleum landings with their doors of frosted glass….

..on the street. Nevertheless, the lunch and the chat were great fun; the world’s problems with Intellectual Property and Copyright were discussed at length and the house pinot proved quite acceptable to boot, so I charged off back to the Casino car park full of bonhomie and anticipation. Perhaps I was cutting it a bit…

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..condition, in this version at least, than just the specified young-man-driven-to-suicide-by-faithless-lover motif and of course the dancers themselves are simply spectacular, with Marie-Agnès Gillot imposingly impressive. I’ve watched it a few times now (I even showed it to Bill) and I’ve shed a few tears every time – it’s that sublime. An interesting sidelight; when…

.. their lack of salesmanship, because after twenty minutes of standing in the bitterly cold wind that was whipping round the schoolyard in a numbed kind of reverie interrupted only by the unwanted blandishments of the blotchy-faced woman in the crocheted poncho selling wax cups of tea and $2.00 raffle tickets (prizes of this year’s…

..are carried away by the northerly wind that bends the trees; the sand is now too hot to walk on in bare feet unless one adopts the hot-foot walk of a Namibian lizard; canvas is cracking in the wind and the horizon has upside down mirages of the container ships queuing to pass through the…