☰NOVEMBER 2025

Old friendships and the kindness of strangers

I've always been attracted to travel. As a young child I discovered the word 'wanderlust' and realised that I had that itch that made me desperate to explore new places. I have it still which means that my reading passion is translated crime fiction - a way of discovering different cultures without leaving the country. It also means that I accept invitations to overseas events even when it would be far more sensible to stay at home.

In the past, I'd often travel with my husband. Since he died I'm usually alone. I'm lucky that I'm still healthy and confident enough to organise planes and trains, and to navigate my way round strange cities. But it's much more fun if I'm with a friend.

In early November my school friend Sue and I set out on a rail trip across Belgium and Germany. We stayed in Brussels for a couple of nights. I did a signing in Waterstones there (who knew that Belgium had a Waterstones?) and loved chatting to the cosmopolitan young people who showed interest in the books. They were from different backgrounds and had different languages, but they were all optimistic and enthusiastic. And their English was flawless.

The following day, we took the next train to Cologne. I'd been awarded a glass dagger by a small town close by - Rheinbach - and we had a fascinating tour round the glass factory where it was made before the awards ceremony. Then, it was back to Cologne for a wander round the city and to experience the magnificent cathedral, before taking the Eurostar home.

I've known Sue since we were twelve and we're easy in each other's company. We understand each other. We laugh at the same things, enjoy unpretentious food and unpretentious wine. And she's much better at navigating her way round Google Maps than I am.

Sometimes, though, solo travel is necessary. Last weekend, I was in Uppsala, Sweden to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the English Bookshop there. I was tired and I'd picked up a bug on my earlier travels, and this was an event that I wished I'd politely declined. There were no direct flights from Newcastle to Stockholm, I had a horribly early start, and when I arrived in Arlanda, the airport signage made it impossible to find the Central train station where a train would take me to my final destination. I arrived in Uppsala tired and grumpy.

But I found an attractive city as I walked through the frosty streets in early dusk, the hotel had a quiet calm that was just what was needed, and Jan, the bookshop owner was warm and welcoming. He'd planned a glorious dinner in his home for visiting authors and the staff who worked in his three stores. I slept beautifully that night and the next day, I was ready to work.

The event was held in a theatre in the centre of the town. There was local beer. The audience all seemed part of the wider bookshop family and my fellow English and Irish authors were witty, engaging and taught me a lot about their writing process. The evening started with Charles Cumming talking about spies to the British ambassador, then Karen Campbell and Ferdia Lennon, a debut author from Dublin, discussed research and fiction. I wanted to read them both after hearing them speak.

I was on stage with Lisa McInerney and the legendary Sarah Waters. I'd met Sarah before and knew and admired her work, but Lisa was new to me and a revelation: clever and funny and honest. I came away with a very new perception of the novel I was writing, a way of coming to it with a different perspective.

There was another long trek home the next day. Lots of hanging around in airports. But I had good books to read and many great memories.