As a child, I often took refuge from my life on a council estate in the north-east of England in the 1980s, by either projecting my imgaination into the future, through science fiction, or into the past, through Agatha Christie books. The 1920s and 1930s represented a world of incredible glamour and sophistication to me (though I didn't notice that only a tiny minority of people actually lived in that world). Agatha's characters lived in chic apartments in London, twee English villages or massive country houses and holidayed in Egypt and other exotic locations. My favourite novel was And Then There Were None (renamed from its original racist title). It was set on an island off the coast of Devon, where all the guests are murdered one by one. I've always wanted to visit the island - and this summer I got to do so. It's called Burgh Island, and has a beautiful art deco hotel, which is like stepping backwards in time.
I was staying in the Josephine Baker suite (click on the pictures for more detail).
This was my bedroom.
After eating an impossibly lovely meal, me and my fella went for a walk. There was a full moon.
Just like General MacArthur in And Then There Were None, I didn't ever want to leave.