Sorting through my recently discovered pack of old postcards has provoked not only memories but also an unexpected feeling of sadness for the Facebook generation. This intrusive all-seeing all-knowing app (what a ghastly truncated word) has enabled them to bombard their army of “friends” about every aspect of their lives.  The postcards of the 21st century. They are collected into albums and stored in Instagram, Picsnap??? and similar programs. Presumably destined to be out there in the ether for eternity. Which, in some ways, is excellent. A lifetime of friendships, dalliances, break-ups, affairs, births and deaths, weddings and divorces, kittens… Continue reading

An uncrowded beach, family-run inns and guesthouses, fishing boats and genuine local cuisine: a place familiar to millions but unrecognisable in this postcard of Lloret de Mar in the 1950s. MEMORIES continue to be stirred as I return to flicking through those old postcards about which I wrote some time… Continue reading

On the tarmac at Beirut International Airport: a Comet 4C of MEA So, moving right along … The next postcard to take my eye among my recently discovered trove of long-lost messages home was another bog standard picture of an aircraft. This one is dressed in the livery of MEA,… Continue reading

Postcard from Belgrade in 1963. ‘A week back in London, then to Lebanon, Jordan etc’ We all know about the past being a foreign country [LP Hartley, The Go-Between] and in recent days I have come to realise how true that oft-quoted phrase can be. A large handful of well-worn postcards,… Continue reading