A Trip to the Woods

Still, here was some drama; the sparse, beautiful yet harsh surroundings; the fact that the red light had just appeared beneath my petrol gauge; the intimidating realisation that I had to make a 360 degree turn in a mud sodden field in my tired little 207.

Dear Mr man in the Van #2 of 3.

You pay me no attention and I don’t blame you but I wish you good luck and want to remember your call. The lights have changed now, Mr ‘Bring out your dead’, you’ll be needing to unfold the legs you raised and rested on the ‘crossbar’, release the brake, ring your bell, call and leave.

Does boot camp mean no more pubs?

I am not a typical ‘boot camp’ kind of person. I do not respond well to being shouted at; I do not like to fail and my vacillating commitment level to exercise varies somewhere between stubborn refusal and fearful avoidance. Still, I knew no one would expect me to do it so this grim assumptionContinue reading “Does boot camp mean no more pubs?”

Room 101: My Favourite place in Shanghai

Mad Cat Lady only ever knocks gently on my door. It’s as if she’s nervous, half wandering whether she should knock or not. I was outside scrubbing my rough clay Arabic water jug, which was playing welcoming host to a thin green moss, a moss encouraged to grow by the creeping dampness invading my caveContinue reading “Room 101: My Favourite place in Shanghai”

A year ago: there appears to be a theme…

A few older posts to paint a picture of a weekend a year ago while I construct a blog that tells of the summer of 2016; a return to Shanghai when everything had changed but nothing had changed and finally finding a foothold in this most colourful of places. 10th September 2015 Crickey! Three wholeContinue reading “A year ago: there appears to be a theme…”

From her Poppy

It’s a very different ‘blog’ I write today. You see, I left Shanghai for summer in London and the jet lag barely subsided before we were called to the hospital: my nan had suffered a heart attack and was critically ill. Perhaps one day I will write about tubes, vigils and being lost but forContinue reading “From her Poppy”

From one home, through another, to another.

29th June 2015 During the 48ish hours it took me to get home this weekend, I took notes. If something struck me as particularly interesting, I would reach into my pocket for the phone with the fluid speed and intent of a determined experienced cowboy. A brief, infuriating, amusing or soul destroying moment would be billetedContinue reading “From one home, through another, to another.”

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started