After having to cancel a planned mini-break in Bruges due to illness, I’m now settling down into near-hibernation mode for the winter, at least in terms of travel. Not that I have travelled much this year, with short breaks in Norfolk and Scotland. Even so, I’m glad to raise my metaphorical drawbridge and spend a few months on my home turf.
Physically, that is.
I’ll still be travelling far and wide, but only in my imagination, by the power of reading–the most environmentally-friendly form of transport.
Of course, I’d jump at the chance of a real-life equivalent of Enid Blyton’s fictional Wishing Chair, whose legs sprouted wings, before ferrying young Mollie and Peter to enchanted places. When I was little, the Wishing Chair trilogy was my favourite Blyton series.
Even so, I preferred the actual destinations of the young voyagers in E Nesbit’s The Phoenix and the Carpet, although their trips often got them into trouble. The Phoenix and the Carpet is the second in a trilogy. Sandwiched between Five Children and It and The Story of the Amulet, it’s a timely read for November, because the story starts in the run-up to Guy Fawkes’ Night. When the unruly children ruin the nursery rug letting off fireworks indoors, the replacement carpet turns out to have magical powers to transport them anywhere they choose.
The five children’s access to fireworks may surprise modern readers, but even when I was their age, I could legally buy low-powered ones. Bangers and jumping jacks were popular, but my favourites were boxes of coloured matches, each burning with a different jewel-bright flame.
Written over a century ago, E Nesbit’s witty children’s fiction still feels fresh, not least because of the children’s apparent freedom, unthinkable in 21st-century Britain.
My vintage Pfufin edition of E Nesbit’s “The Treasure Seekers”
You don’t have to be a child to enjoy E Nesbit’s good-natured, escapist stories. I thoroughly enjoyed my recent binge-read of them.
This winter, my armchair travels will take me through grittier territory. By spring, I plan to reach Constantinople (now Istanbul) via yet another trilogy, this one written for adults. In 1933, aged 18, Patrick Leigh Fermor decided to walk from the Hook of Holland to Constantinople–a journey that took him two years, through regions rich in history and culture, amid ominous signs of impending world war. So far, through the pages of the first volume, A Time of Gifts, I’ve reached Prague. Between the Woods and the Water and The Broken Road await my onward connection for the second and third legs of my journey. These are remarkable books. Although I’ve travelled a lot within Europe, I could never absorb and learn as much as Leigh Fermor imparts within these pages.
Thus, I don’t consider armchair travel second best to the real-life kind, but a welcome addition, and I for one am happy to sit back and enjoy the ride.
Another favourite place in my cottage to curl up with a book – my reading nook
This column was written for the Tetbury Advertiser’s November 2025 edition. I’ve since finished reading A Time of Gifts, of which I’ve shared my review below.
In Other News
After I’d spent a large part of October being unwell with various minor ailments, all now resolved, thank goodness, it was my husband’s turn to be poorly in November. That’s why this is the first blog post I’ve had a chance to share this month, and I’m only just starting to catch up with myself.
Which is just as well, as my diary is packed with events between now and Christmas. (So much for my planned hibernation!)
In the meantime, I’ll be putting the finishing touches to my next cosy mystery novel, The Importance of Being Murdered, to be published on 26th March 2026. The copy edit has just come back from my publisher, and my editor says it’s in great shape already – hurrah!
Meanwhile, there’s a 99p/99c special offer running for a limited time on the ebook edition of my latest novel, Death at the Village Christmas Fair, in the UK, USA, Canada, and Australia, so if you haven’t read it yet, now’s a good time to snap it up for next to nothing!
What I’m Reading
I adore Folio Society editions of favourite books – expensive at first hand, though, so I always look out for secondhand copies
I’d been meaning to read more of Patrick Leigh Fermor’s travel writing for a long time, and spotting a beautiful hardback Folio Societyedition in a National Trust secondhand bookshop prompted me to do so at last.
This book is the first in a trilogy of memoirs about his walking tour of Europe, from the Hook of Holland to Istanbul, in the mid 1930s, based on a journal he kept at the time, but with much more material added decades later to enhance the historical, geographical and cultural aspects of the narrative.
His elegant, precise prose makes for a dense but rewarding read, and it’s not a book you can rush through. Instead, I savoured it over several months, reading so slowly that at times I felt it was taking me almost as long as it did him to do the original journey.
Written in the run-up to the Second World War, it is peppered with references to the rise of fascism, and that’s chilling to read, knowing how that particular story will end. But the historical aspect goes back sometimes as far as the Roman Empire, so it’s far more than a reflection on Europe between the two World Wars.
Highly recommended for anyone interested in how European society evolved. Even though I studied European history for A Level, I learned so much from this book, and am looking forward to embarking on the onward journey in the second and third volumes.
Having enjoyed Sathnam Sanghera’s earlier “Empireland“, about how British Imperialism shaped Britain, I was keen to read this too for the other side of the story.
“Empireworld” was another dense but fascinating and worthwhile read, looking at imperialism through different lenses, eg botany – my favourite section, focusing on how the search for useful and valuable plants was a major incentive for explorers. I’m following up on that section by reading one of the books he recommends about the history of the palmhouse at Kew Gardens, Palace of Palms by Kate Teltscher, and a historical novel, The Orchid Hunter’s Daughter by Jane Anderson. (Reviews of those books to follow soon.)
Highly recommended – and if you want to read more on any of the topics, there’s a huge bibliography and also extensive footnotes at the end.
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