Today, as I write this, the world is in love with Iceland and I am transported back to the night I met my very own Viking warrior. A romantic Viking love story featuring a Japanese trawler man, a bum on a bike and a tin of mixed fruit that has stood the test of time on my kitchen shelf.
The Human League provide an eerily adept sound track to today’s tale of pianos, leather trousers and 80’s permed hair. Join me as I reminisce about my early days as a piano bar entertainer and where it all started, way back when in sunny Porthcawl…
An Icelandic tale of hidden people, fabulous outdoor art and midsummer late night shenanigans in a hot tub. Throw in the scent of burning wood and a pimp-like monkey puppet and you just might have a story worth telling.
But shouldn’t I let you be the judge of that?
I have just finished listening to Jonathan Pryce narrate Tom Jones’ autobiography ‘Over the top and back’.
And what an audible treat it is! Pryce does a cracking job regaling the mega star’s memoirs and has The Voice down to a capital T..
Join me on a musical meander down memory lane with Sir Tom Jones, Elvis and even some aliens thrown in for good measure.
Sometimes life throws the most bizarre experiences at you. This is probably one of the weirdest and wackiest that I have experienced to date. It involves me finding my own underwear on the floor of a busy office following an evening watching one of mother nature’s greatest light shows – the Northern Lights or Aurora Borealis. But how did they get there?
Read on to uncover the mystery of the knickers found abandoned on the office floor…
Today is Bun Day in Iceland. And what sounds like an unassuming and kind of ‘nice’ start to the week, is actually an interesting and much loved Icelandic tradition involving children (legally) smacking their sleeping parents around with gaily decorated sticks, so as to be able to stuff their own little faces with as many cream filled buns as possible. Bun eating aside, did you ever get the opportunity to deal your parents a few hearty blows as they lay, gently sleeping, in preparation of the ’50 hour plus’ working week that lay ahead? No, me neither..