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But it seems was that this was primarily the result of Stalinist totalitarianism and did not characterise the confidence of the brand new revolutionary state that held (to some extent) its ideals intact.

We’d go past the Old Rectory where Rupert Brooke lived (and which was, slightly less impressively, then owned by Jeffrey Archer) and about which he yearningly and hauntingly wrote from the 1WW front.

Though it has to be said that the circumstances surrounding my first encounter with Brooke’s heart-breaking poem was in the midst of doing battle with the nightmare that is the Greek optative (ειθε γενοιμην)! So it was a real joy to find this extraordinary piece by Irish poet Michael O’Siadhail.

The assassination was such a fluke, so preventable, so absurd that the yearning for a different outcome of that moment is great.

As he says at the start (having summarised some of the counterfactual options), None of these what-ifs strains our understanding of the world because most royal processions do not stray from their intended routes, and most security details would have rushed the archduke and his wife to safety at the first signs of violence.

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But as well as being a deeply solemn occasion, and even a family occasion, it was an era-defining moment.Read more I set out for Greece today to do a long weekend of training in Athens: a country and city wracked by austerity measures, riots and fearful pessimism.

Read more I was very struck by this fascinating article (“Building Blocks” from the latest Royal Academy magazine) about post-revolution architecture and art in the Soviet Union.It’s an evocative meditation on the sense of history that a place like this creates – one can’t help but think of the countless, extraordinary minds that perhaps wandered down to Grantchester for some R&R, from Herbert & Newton onwards. Grantchester Meadows Across Grantchester Meadows, May has snowed cow parsnips, hawthorn, chestnut a stone’s throw from here the Cam grooves slowly towards King’s.An English heaven: ‘My real life’s began since I came to Grantchester I eat strawberries and honey. Think only this of me.’ I see you Rupert Brook blazered, flannelled, a strolling presence in this albescent funnel of young summer or picnicking under an oak with Darwin’s granddaughters: ‘We used to talk wearily about art, suicide, and the sex problem.’ A 100 rings in an oak which may have seen George Herbert brooding by the Came or Milton explaining the ways of God now Galileo’s sun no longer danced attendance on our world. Ghost Brook you could be my father’s father, yet I’m your elder.Sweet Chiara – Mega Pack (MDH)Mydirtyhobby is the world’s biggest community for private erotica made at home.Fickmieze – Mega Pack (MDH)Mydirtyhobby is the world’s biggest community for private erotica made at home.Never having visited Russia itself (despite having travelled fairly extensively through its former cold war satellites), my presumption was that architecture in that era was full of monolithic, brutalising and depersonalised buildings.