Our lovely housemate who is staying a few weeks comes into the kitchen one morning and asks: ‘What time does Bintang open?’ (Bintang being the local supermarket on a par with Lidl). ‘8 I think,’ John says, ‘But if you need anything for breakfast just help yourself.’ ‘I need butt lube,’ she says. ‘Right,’ says …
Alula and I drive past a fifty foot high horse and Alula asks: What’s the horse for? – The King died. A real King? – Yes. He died and they’re having a cremation. What’s a cremation? – It’s something they do when people die. So will they take him to the not dead doctors and …
It was when I had just finished school and was taking a year out to work and to go travelling, except I had no work so I joined this posh temp agency in Clapham who found posh sounding girls like me and matched them with even posher, rich people who needed people to walk their …
Crazy cat lady spots me as I stand next to the ice cream in Bintang (think local supermarket on a par with Lidl). I am talking to my friend who I’ve also just run into when I see her heading towards me at eleven o’clock. And I think about ducking but I’m cornered between a …
A list of the people I have met in the last five days: Iridolgist Raw food cook Colonic irrigator Sexuality through yoga teacher Tarot reader Theta balancer Ecstatic dance teacher Feng Shui Balancer Soapnut evangelist Where are all the accountants and lawyers? They are not here I have figured, because there is no place for …
Shower, I say (in Indonesian). Wayan nods. I flick hurriedly through the pages of the dictionary whilst I stand in the bath demonstrating. ‘Long’ I say, pointing as I say it to the shower lead. I search frantically for shower head holder. It’s not included in the concise dictionary. I settle for to hold. So …
I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. And that’s nothing to do with reading the Air Asia inflight magazine in which they discuss what happens when planes crash into the sea and try to comfort you with all the rescue paraphanelia that would ditch into the watery abyss with you. It’s ok, you’ll plummet …
London. It just exhausts me. Last night I found myself drenched, numb, bone tired and hating on the whole transport system. And all I could think about – to the point that I almost burst into tears as I stood at south ken tube staring at macaroons in the window of Paul that cost £3.30 …
I have re-entered the depths of an area I will refer to only as the Compton of South London (no, not Peckham). I am walking down the street. A fourteen year old boy is coming towards me pushing a pram (I don’t think the progeny therein is his own – possibly it belongs to the …
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