Open the door. Look down: see the ginger cat with sky-blue blue collar who makes a bed of the planter by the front step. She flees, hissing, down the garden path – follow her but watch your hair; the thorny arms of the rose bush are overgrown and reach overhead in a long arch. The postman caught his forehead on one last week and gave me a telling off, which I was determined not to feel guilty about because A) it’s not my fault that plants grow and B) he should watch where he’s going.
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France | Bad Times (You Know I’ve Had My Share) Pt 2
“Oh man, I feel really… whoa… okay. Not good.”
The walk back to the car was fifty metres and felt like a mile: time slowing, peripherals blurring, temperature rising. I got back wobbly and collapsed into a deck chair.
Continue readingFrance | Bad Times (You Know I’ve Had My Share) Pt 1
When Aurelle was tucked up in bed, Blanche went for a lie down as she was feeling tired – Aurelle had been poorly a couple of nights ago and Blanche seemed to have picked it up. To avoid waking them, Seth and I went out into Albi for a quiet drink and a catch up.
Continue readingFrance | Good Times
I was very careful, ahead of my hiking weekend with Seth in France, to avoid doing anything that might cause me injury. I took it easy in the gym, I skipped leg day (hiking’s no fun with sore thighs), I ate well, I rested. Acutely aware of my luck with such things, I took every precaution to preserve my bodily health; I didn’t want anything to spoil my big, restorative weekend away in the Occitanie countryside – and god, I needed it after so many months of solid work in London’s great metropolitan marsh. God must have a wicked sense of humour, however, because the evening before my flight, my phone rang. It was Seth.
“Mate, you’re not gonna believe this. I’ve smashed my feet up at work.”
Continue readingBerlin | Back in Town Pt 4
On our final full day in Berlin (Vic leaving that night, me early next morning), Vic and I met Bruna for brunch at a funky upbeat restaurant somewhere in Friedrichshain. I had a bacon sandwich and we talked about sex clubs in the city and how we’d all be far too prudish to join an orgy. I never knew I had a ‘line’ until I lived in Berlin. The city tests your limits – you can always go deeper, and nobody ever recommends you don’t. Sooner or later there comes a time when you’re faced with a situation you’ve never seen before, far beyond what you considered possible in the ‘real world’ beyond, and for the first time your mental green light switches to yellow then red – and you pause. And that’s it: you either turn back forever, or plunge in. Some people go to Kitkat and get their thighs spanked with a riding crop for the first time and think ‘Ow, get off’. And others – their irises turn to love hearts.
Continue readingBerlin | Back In Town Pt 2
I woke up to my first hangover of 2025 (not counting the weird fraudulent hangovers I get from 0% beer for reasons which continue to elude me) and sat up in bed and said hello to Vic who was awake in a separate bed parallel to mine like Ernie and/or Bert. We got ready and went outside to begin our day.
Continue readingBerlin | Back In Town Pt 1
Because I’m an idiot and have no money I booked a cheap flight out of London to Berlin which required me to wake up at one in the morning on a Thursday and take a taxi into central London and then a bus from central London to Stansted Airport with the whole thing taking two point five hours and costing me half the price again of the actual flight which of course I was thrilled about.
Continue readingCalifornia Pt 11 | Sea Lights
We said goodbye to Annie’s parents in the morning, and I wrote them a letter to say thank you for everything: thank you for the food, thank you for the hospitality, and thank you more than anything for creating the rare delight that is my friend. We set off back to Oakland in the morning, full of breakfast and with a clear sky overhead. First, however, Annie wanted to show me Las Gatos and the area she grew up (which was news to me because I thought we were already in Los Gatos but whatever).
Continue readingCalifornia Pt 10 | Thanksgiving
Next day was the big day: Thanksgiving. I’d never experienced a real Thanksgiving dinner before, and I felt happy and a little nervous. Happy, obviously, to eat a gigantic mound of food. Nervous in case I said something fucking stupid at the dinner table and ruined everything.
Continue readingCalifornia Pt 9 | Wicked
I woke up the day after the oyster disaster feeling pretty fresh, all things considered. I still wasn’t entirely over the jet-lag, though – and to be honest, I think I never really got over it the whole time I was in the States. How’s your body meant to realign its sleep cycle when you’re pumping it full of chemicals and making it run around the streets all night?
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