Danger comes from unexpected places in India. Perilous roads, the ever-present risk of shitting oneself. We had a long list … More
Budget travel brings an unavoidable level of intimacy. Oversharing in extremis. De-briefings requested and given after each visit to the … More
Carried by a motorcade of tuk-tuks through the dark, dusty streets of Delhi looking for a hotel room. It was … More
Age 22, I wrote a letter to my future self. I’d had a moment of transcendent clarity. I committed my … More
I’m naked. Well, almost. I’m wearing only a fig leaf.
In a world of divisive politics, orange presidents and Brex-shit, we can at least agree on one thing. Garden gnomes are tacky.
You’re unaware your arm is resting up against a boiling kettle. The skin is burning but you can’t feel it. When and how do you realise? When you smell your skin crisping up like pork crackling?
My tour of the English Language Teaching Centre was interrupted by an old lady who seemed to know everyone.