Today is my 34th day indoors. Well… ish. Continue reading
diary
Lockdown Diary: Bald and unproductive
Well, I burst at the first hurdle, didn’t I? After ending my last diary entry with the optimistic ‘I think I’ll write again tomorrow 😊’, I did not write a word for a full week.
I did not do it because I did not feel like doing it, and instead of being productive I got drunk for three days in a row. It was a choice that made sense at the time. Continue reading
Lockdown Diary: Yeah it’s happening
My mum recommended I write while we’re all in lockdown. So here we find ourselves! Continue reading
Jeanne
Hello again. Continue reading
Bristol: For My Imaginary Grandchildren
It has occurred to me that, sooner than I realised, everything will be very different. Continue reading
whoaaaa been a while?!
Here you,
I’ve not posted on this site in two months. I don’t even know why, I just stopped for a while! Isn’t that irritating? No explanation for my disappearance?! Hoho! Continue reading
Paris: Muggings and Riots and Notre Dame Engulfed in Flame
After Chiang Mai came two sweaty nights in Bangkok. After Bangkok came Paris.
Jeanne and Justine got an earlier flight out of Thailand, and I arrived in the city fourteen hours after them, in the evening. By the time I arrived Justine had already left the city for Orleans, an hour or two south. Won’t be seeing her for a long time now. After a year of perpetual company and a merry-go-round of familiar faces, suddenly Jeanne and I were all that remained. Weird. Continue reading
Chiang Mai: Songkran Sogginess
I left Tasmania and my darling Seth Todd, and flew for 24 stinking hours on a succession of Jetstar flights. Let it be known, Jetstar are low in cost but high in tedium; for hours unending I had nought to do but stare at the barren headrest before me. My requests for a free little glass of water were repeatedly declined, and in the end I had no choice but to splash out and numb myself with a little plastic wine bottle. Continue reading
Tasmania: Howling at the Thunder
And just like that, Tasmania is finished. Five weeks of apple picking are done, and I have left. Spending tonight in a crappy hostel in Melbourne’s CBD, after flying out of Hobart earlier today. 24 hours and I’ll be with Jeanne once more, in Chiang Mai. Got a lot of airports to traverse in that span of time – it’ll be pretty shit. I’ll live. And then it’s all joy on joy. 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