Dave and I went out to explore Lisbon, still wrapped up in the strange glow of our incredible coincidence.
Continue readingdiary
Waiting for Passport
After seven and a half weeks, my new passport has arrived. It was meant to take three. This, of course, has been a spanner to all my slap-dashedly laid plans. Or rather, it’s been yet another spanner in the very long sequence of spanners that have continually found their way betwixt the gears of my fragile optimism.
But hey ho!
Continue readingTonight, On Hackett News
“Good evening, and welcome to Hackett News. I’m your host, Wilkie Poots.”
“With me tonight is our resident Dan Analyst, or Danalyst, Sandra Gurtle. Good evening, Sandra.”
“Good evening, Wilkie.”
“Tell me Sandra, how is Dan faring this week?”
“Oh, he’s all over the place like a nutter.”
Continue readingParis | Reunion pt. 2
Too skint to enjoy a lunch at Les Deux Magots, Jeanne and I crossed the road in search of a cheaper alternative. We found a cute place around the corner, where for the price of a single sandwich in the first café, we were able to buy a pizza and a carafe of wine. I don’t know whether it’s the northerner in me or the millennial or just basic stinginess, but I get a giddy thrill from finding a good deal.
Continue readingLondon | Rapunzel
Well, after spending much of December chortling at all my friends getting struck down and locked away with Covid, I got struck down and locked away with Covid. I developed a cough on the 2nd of January, and tested myself on the 3rd. Within seconds the latty flow showed up an absolute wedge of a positive line, and I was very cross and upset.
Continue readingOn Tour with AK: Part 10 (The End)
“I think I’ve adapted to the roadie life, you know. Like my body has adjusted to just not really sleeping and being drunk all the time and eating crap. I feel like I could just keep going at this point.”
“I’ve got, like, three brain cells left, boys. And they’re all dancing a jig.”
“Yeah. I think that’s why I feel so happy.”
Continue readingOn Tour with AK: Part 9
“Yo, it’s Ani fockin’ Klang here spittin’ flows, come around here imma break your nose, bitches love me when I play my shows, I’m fly as hell and everybody knows.”
“Very nice.”
“Okay your turn.”
“Sorry?”
“Your turn. Spit some bars.”
“No, I don’t think so. Not my style.”
“Oh come on.”
“Where would I even begin?”
“Just start talking. Then make it rhyme.”
“Right. Okay. So like iambic pentameter or?”
“Jesus boys, no. Don’t overthink it. Go.”
“Alright. Ahem. YO, YO, MY NAME IS DAN, AND I’M A MAN AND I HAVE A PLAN. I’M GONNA GO TO THE SHOP TODAY, AND IM GONNA BUY SOME BLOODY HAY. FOR MY HORSE! BECAUSE HE’S HUNGRY AND-”
“Okay.”
“What?”
“Maybe… maybe keep working on it.”
Continue readingLondon | Circuits
London, I’m learning, isn’t any one thing. Other cities I’ve lived in have been mostly one thing. Berlin: dark artsy Neverland. Sheffield: grungy student paradise. Melbourne: affluent hipster metropolis.
Continue readingLondon | Simba
My little brother has been helping me a lot recently. Dealing with the break up, plus starting a new job, settling into a new city, and adjusting to the unavoidable loneliness of London, there’s been a lot to think about, and at times… (deep breath; understatement of the fucking century incoming) I’ve struggled.
Continue readingAvignon | Encore
The train from Marseille to Avignon was a pleasant 90 minutes. The south of France looks like Spain, and reminds me of family holidays when I was a kid – walking along in flip flops and baggy shirts down to the beachfront restaurants for an evening meal, the night air warm, crickets chirping in the bushes.
I met Seth at the station. I’d been running late, and when I found him outside he was leaning on a railing, shaven-headed, grinning at me through a pair of dark sunglasses.
“Hello mate,” he said, when I came in for a hug.
It’s always nice to be back.
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