In Case You’re Wondering What The Hell Is Going On

Hello you.

It’s been a while no?

That’s because my website shit its own pants and deleted everything I ever wrote. Guh.

Luckily, because I’m so devilishly clever, I made a backup. Unluckily, because I’m only devilishly and not angelically clever, which is the cleverest of all, I made the backup last summer and never did another. This is why I was able, thanks to the help of a very kind and technically knowledgeable friend, to restore most but not all of my articles.

Everything up to Serbia is still there, which is nice, but Hungary, Morocco, Spain, Mexico, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Costa Rica and Colombia are not. Alas. I will therefore be very slowly re-uploading these articles over the next few weeks, with a lot of grunting and sighing. But I’m gonna do Colombia first because, like, I’m here now, so yeah. It makes sense.

Okay, that’s that.

Not sure how to end this post.


On Tour with AK: Part 1

“So… this is it then.”



“I love you so much dude.”

“I love you too. Ride safe.”

Annie kissed my cheek as our hug broke apart, and with a sad smile she climbed into the taxi. In a moment she would be carried on into the night, to Manchester Airport, then on to California and home. I didn’t watch the car as it reversed and straightened up; I didn’t trust myself. I turned my back, upset, and lit my last idiot cigarette. I heard the wheels roll and the engine hum, and at the last second I changed my mind, turning just in time to see the taxi round the corner and disappear. And then the street was empty – no cars, just traffic lights changing from green to amber to red in the silence – and now I won’t see my best friend again for a year, or maybe more.

And as the taxi vanished I felt something leave me, rising from my shoulders and neck and head like smoke into the sky. It was 3:30 in the morning and there was nobody around to sigh to, so I went inside, and I looked at the two empty wineglasses on the dresser, and I went to bed.

That was twelve hours ago.

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We’re driving to work in the bush, the morning air cool and the windows down. Seven of us are crammed into the car, sitting on each other’s laps clutching our lunchboxes. There’s a cloudless sky above and a long day of fruit picking ahead. Bouncing reggae on the radio has us feeling breezy. Continue reading