Rhona Cleary: The Last Book I Loved, Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch


Was there ever a place greyer, wetter or lonelier than Paris in the fall? For an Irish person, that’s a weighty question to consider. I guess that in some other incarnation of myself I might have found the glistening cobblestones of Montmartre immeasurably romantic but with my fiancé away on tour and being (scarcely) self-employed, […]