Everything moves in great, long cycles. You live and live and live and then – pop – in the midst of all that living, you find yourself right back where you started. I am in Manchester Airport. I am always in Manchester Airport.
Continue readingUncategorized
Strasbourg | Baguette Inbound
I’m back in Bristol, waiting out my two-week quarantine after arriving back from France. Jeanne is still in France for now; she’ll arrive here in a few days’ time. Then, in just over two weeks, we will leave our lovely little room in Bristol for the last time. Continue reading
Lockdown Diary: Fully Booked
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking ‘Eh? Eh!? Dan only writes once a month these days, and even then it’s usually half-arsed’. Yes, friend, you are right. But I feel a smidgeon bit inspired today, and lo: words. Continue reading
Lockdown Diary: God Help Me, I’ve Started Appreciating People’s Lawns
Today is my 34th day indoors. Well… ish. Continue reading
Bristol: Lonely Boy
How do you meet people? Continue reading
Roo
We’re driving to work in the outback, 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
Tasmania: Orchard Zen
Apple picking is existence now. Apples are everything. Stems and seeds and cores and leaves and branches and roots and ladders and wellies and bins and sacks and brambles – apples. Continue reading
Melbourne: It All Relates
I always hesitate to publish articles like the last one, because of course when I write them I am feeling emotional. I’ve learned a few things during my time on earth, and one of the earliest lessons I taught myself was not to speak in anger – I still do it of course, and more often than I’d like, but I try my best to avoid it. I remember as a kid in primary school having arguments with family and friends, and feeling rotten afterwards as the anger subsides and the empathy creeps in and guilt shades everything. I feel guilty about telling Australia to fuck off, is what I’m trying to say. Sorry Australia. You have your flaws, but so does everywhere, everyone, and everything. Continue reading
Melbourne: Grunt Work
I arrived at the shift at 5pm, half an hour earlier than the job required, as I was told that if you want more work in the future you need to make a good impression. There were nine of us; two supervisors and seven labourers. I’d been told by the agency not to expect anything too thrilling. ‘Grunt work’ was how Monique had described it over the phone. I said grunt work was fine. I just need to make a little bit of money before I leave this city behind. Continue reading
Melbourne: Goon and Graft
Through my travels in India, Nepal, Japan, Thailand and Australia, I’ve had a year of summer now. A year. You imagine it to be great, don’t you. Twelve whole months of sunshine and blue skies and warm weather. The never-ending summer: paradise. Continue reading