I started my sixth day in Augsburg with beer for breakfast. Happily I wasn’t partaking in morning drinking alone as a way of surviving fish-tank living. This was our introduction to a traditional Bavarian breakfast. Since I’d spent half the night up knitting pigs I was up for some revenge on pigkind. So booze and […]
Sew. I don’t really sew. The art of brandishing such a tiny needle makes my neck ache just thinking about it. But there is something about a city like Augsburg that beckons different sides of you from the dark places you shoved them and lets them out into the sunshine. In fact I hadn’t been […]
Yesterday morning I was art. It was all the fault of Mr Antony Gormley, whose cast-iron sculptures scared the bejesus out of half of London in 2007 by peering down from South Bank rooftops like rusty angels of death.