I worry about more stuff here. I stress more about silly inconsequential things. I have to think more – What time train? What shoes? Umbrella? Where’s my oyster card? Can I really afford this second Frappacino? Who are all these people in Heat? Why are they still doing up the same escalator on the Victoria …
Here’s the cliff notes version of the last four days… Singapore airport ‘I’d like to check in for my flight to Bali please.’ ‘Sorry your daughter’s passport is three days under the six months validity required to enter Indonesia.’ ‘You’re kidding right? Kidding yes? Right?’ ‘No, sorry ma’am. Please step away from the counter.’ On …
I have twelve minutes to make it through Bintang picking up whatever it was I wrote on the list and left in the kitchen and get back across town to pick Alula up at the library. I slide the car into a sweet spot in the shade, jump out and am heading, keys in hand, …
This is government office. Dress respectfully. Oh dear. I look down at my dress. Topshop maxi. Slit up the thigh on both sides. Slit at the sides, to the waist. At least I am wearing a bra though. And knickers. You can see both. They’re black. Fail in the respectfully dressed stakes. Shit, I think. …
Today I introduced a Western evil to the civilised land of Bali. I feel like a Spaniard bringing smallpox to the New World. Except I brought Road Rage and not a disease that will decimate the population. Unless of course everyone starts driving each other off the roads and into the drainage ditches – which …
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 …
Before – once upon a time – when I used to be a professional – I knew what punctuality was. It seems that in the last nine months punctuality and I have become estranged. Possibly permanently. It’s quite amazing how quickly it happened. John and I have never worn watches and for a time whilst …
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 …
‘It is not my fault. It is the map’s fault.’ ‘A-ha,’ John murmurs from the driver’s seat. ‘No. Seriously. This map is totally fecking shite. Joshua Tree could be 5 metres away, it could be 5 miles or it could be 500 light years away. Want to know why it could be any of those? …
The thing about being back in ‘civilisation’ is that it’s quite stressful. The capitalist gene kicks in and everywhere I look I see things I want to buy. Ok, not everywhere I look. When I look in the clothes shops the communist gene kicks back in. But everywhere else I see things I want to …
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