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A Small Plaque on a Wall
I’m in Los Angeles for a couple of days. This morning I ran through the UCLA campus and down into Westwood. Running is how I explore a city. Between ordinary buildings, I found Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery. I went in. Marilyn Monroe is buried here. No monument. No mausoleum. A small plaque on a…
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The name on the building
One of my favourite authors, Bill Bryson, makes a brilliant comparison in Notes from a Small Island. He writes that in America, wealth and status are expressed by attaching your name to things — buildings, libraries, university chairs — while in Britain, they are expressed by attaching titles to names. I find that contrast hilarious.…
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We Know What Happened Next. They Didn’t.
Last night we arrived at Stanford University in Palo Alto. I can’t disclose much about what we are doing here. So I’ll share what else caught my attention. Before dinner, I went for a run. It’s one of my strategies for beating jet lag after the flight from the UK: get outside, move, stay awake…
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Sport Was Never Meant to Stand Still
There is something fascinating about the way sport changes. Not simply the rules, the equipment or the records. The culture around it. What we believe sport should look like. How athletes should behave. What spectators expect to experience. Even what we consider appropriate when somebody wins. And perhaps we forget how much all of those…
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The Sport We Build Together
On Sunday morning, after very little sleep, I went for a swim in the sea. It is one of those little rituals I love whenever I am in Palma. I get up, walk down to the water before breakfast and swim for a while. There is something about being in the sea early in the…
