I find buying small things about as hard as buying expensive things. Mostly because the benefit is less clear-cut, and so it’s harder to know if it’s a good use of your money. Buying something large and expensive is clearer - what kind of cycling do I need a bike for? how big a car do I need? How powerful and expensive a computer? But for something small? Is the extra 10% worth it for a slightly nicer wine? Do I notice the benefit of slightly nicer seats in the cinema? Are these branded jeans actually better?1 The solution is Whimsy Money.

As usual I’m not limiting myself solely to what was released in the last twelve months, just to what was new to me. 2014 has been surprisingly difficult, so the Spotify playlist Best of Newly Heard in 2014 is longer than the six songs I’ve high-lighted below, but everything is worth a listen. I Wanna Be Forgotten - Bass Drum of Death What’s not to love in the unstoppable energy of the drum intro and garage rock riffs? Pure energy and no-nosense.

It took nine hours of driving to reach this chain of unhappy camels sat in the thick yellow light of the late afternoon. Ours was one of the many long-wheelbase white tourist Transit vans climbing through the winding roads of the High Atlas. We stopped, along with the others, at the bends with the most spectacular views and were sold packets of dates and dyed geodes by small groups of souvenir sellers who waited at even the most remote curves.

The crowds on the square move in eddies and whirls, dragged in arcs by the gravity of drummers, snake charmers, fortune tellers and food sellers. The square of Jemaa el-Fnaa is the heart of Marrakesh, surrounded by narrow twisting souks it sits in the middle of the old city. We watch the sun set from the Grand Balcon du Cafe Glacier. As the traders and crowds change from day to night the skeletons of food stalls rise, square steel frames hung with long sheets to cover rows of dining benches. Electric lamps and gas powered kitchens make them glow from within.

The compartment went black as the electricity failed. The emergency stops came on, filling the train with the hot bitter smell of brakes. The other occupants in our compartment barely reacted; the lady on left carried on texting, the white glow of her iPhone now the only light. The children opposite carried on sleeping on their mother. The young man on the right swore once in arabic, but he seemed in a hurry. Muttered complaints filtered through the carriage, but no-one reacted with surprise. Moroccans react with a calm fatalism that makes it impossible to tell if you’re experiencing a rare bad event, or if that’s usual and everything going to plan is the exception.

“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,” Howl by Allen Ginsberg, 1955. I don’t read much poetry. I struggle with the density of meaning in verse and find it hard to hear the correct stresses and syllables that give meter. Each line needs long digestion and examination to expand the imagery and intent out of it, something I feel ill equipped for and takes more energy than I usually have.

Verona’s streets are a complete tangle; running around grand buildings and ancient stonework, overlapping, flowing, then snapping at right angles around an immovable church, little eddies of streets form courtyards without warning, run on and burst suddenly into a sunlight Piazza. Everything in the city shows you its age, ancient monuments or careworn apartments with crumbling plaster, peeling paint and worn wooden doors. The occasional freshly painted building seems alien and film set fake in its newness.

Eighteen months ago I joined the future and bought a shiny slab of technology, a 2012 WiFi Nexus 7. Since then many newer and shinier models have appeared on the market, so a long detailed review is less interesting than looking at the useful niche it has found in my everyday life: replacing paper. Still, for the curious, here’s the short opinion on the Nexus 7 itself: very nice screen, good battery life and a solid feel. Other than the screen I don’t have any physical comments to make as a few days after I bought it I put it in a Smart Cover derivative case that it has never left since and works a treat. That it wakes when you open the cover is a very nice touch.

Wednesday 11th June When I ask the receptionist for the best public transport route to Connelly Station I get a puzzled look and am told it’s a 20 minute walk. Setting off on foot I decide that this means Dublin’s public transport is awful. If a city has good public transport its inhabitants work hard, and with a sense of pride, to avoid walking anywhere, even if that means three convoluted changeovers and waiting for longer than it would have taken to walk. Think London, Hamburg, Paris or Zurich. If the locals mostly prefer to walk then there’s a lot of room for improvement. Think Bristol.