It’s not so easy to get nostalgic when your grandfather grew up on the Old Kent Road. And generally speaking I don’t hold with anywhere north (of the equator that is). Certainly I only like the M6 tollroad because it circumvents Birmingham. But visiting Cumbria with John, land of his forbears, I find myself getting …
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 …
So it feels like time for reflection. As we sit at SF airport awaiting our flight to London. I am depressed enough to cry about this journey coming to an end, though John is excited about getting back to the UK and seeing how we react and feel. I’ve already decided I will feel SHIT. …
Dear Alula Today you are four and you just told me the following things: That you love me as many houses we have lived in (that’s such a lot isn’t it mummy?) and as big as the waves and as dark as the night when you are sleeping and how big the moon is and …
There is only the road. Long, dusty, hilly, deserty and deserted. Then there is the fuel gauge – red, flashing, beeping and 2 miles till empty. ‘Crap crap crap’ ‘Don’t stress. It won’t help.’ ‘But what if we break down out here.’ (I’m so not walking is the subtext. I’ll be like those people who …
‘Are you hearing this boys? Now always wear a condom.’ The boys laugh but I see their fear. I see it hovering at the back of their eyes like kids who don’t want to be chosen for PE. The fear – it is being generated by none other than my 3 almost 4 year old …
Disneyland – the happiest place on earth. Also the fattest. I didn’t know fat like this existed. It’s not like the fat you sometimes see in the UK. It’s astonishing fat. It’s six belly folds fat. It’s humungous fat and it’s queuing in front of you at the ice cream place ordering a triple chocolate …
I think I did part 1 back in India and I probably talked about wishing that I’d packed an extra suitcase rammed with Percy Pig fizzy pig tails. Also I think I probably talked about wishing I hadn’t wasted valuable baggage weight by packing three shades of nail polish. My friend Cynthia was right. Even …
I’m not sure how exactly we ended up here. It involves marriage. And step uncles and fathers and weird shit I’d rather not delve into. And less genetically it also involved John spending as long at the Alamo car hire place choosing a Ford Focus as it did to cross the pacific and that was …
This is what 11 degrees feels like. I’m not a one for the cold. It is one of the prime reasons we left the UK. Re-entering climes of less than 30 degrees sent my body into the type of violent shock usually witnessed in car crash victims. My teeth almost shattered. The muscles in my …
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