So – this is a story I wrote aaaaages ago, and completely forgot about until I just found it by accident. It’s one of the weirder stories I’ve written, and if I remember rightly, my friend Joe’s sole feedback at the time was: ‘I think you and the male gaze
Anyone who lives in or has been to Cambodia knows how fresh the wounds inflicted by the Khmer Rouge still feel today. Unresolved trauma from the civil war and genocide permeates the work of most artists who were old enough to have experienced it first hand (as well as many
DAY 4 Distressingly, we wake to find that we are still in a car, in a field, in the cold, surrounded by mist, using towels as blankets, and with only some 3-day-old bread and a slightly sad looking carrot for breakfast. On the plus side, we’re already in the car.
What a beautiful hike. I’ve almost managed to forget that I’m a 29-year-old disaster site posing as an adult human. So many seals! “Go and stand over there so I can take a picture” says Mum. “I’m not sure I should go that close to the seal colony,” I reply, nervous. Mum insists. The seals bark at me and bare their teeth. Mum tells me to stop being a wimp as it’s not as if seals can move that fast anyway. As I jog back, I notice a sign that says: ‘Keep at least this far away from the seals. They will become aggressive if you approach the colony and can move surprisingly fast”
After the best part of a year apart, I’m finally reuniting with my Mum (who is Kiwi) in New Zealand. After scooting around the North Island visiting family and old friends I haven’t seen for over a decade, we’ve now embarked on a three week road trip around the South
Who wants to hear about my latest international-travel-related drama? OH YOU DO? Well you’re in luck. Because I’m stuck at Melbourne Airport and I’ve run out of book. Here is a timeline of today’s ineptitude, for your very own amusement.
On my second night in Hua Hin, I make an elaborate show of pondering the wares of every food stall in the night market, despite knowing full well that I would end up back at the same stall as the previous night, working my way down the menu rather than
Thailand is famous for its fabulous street food… and the night market in Hua Hin, a little coastal town three hours from Bangkok, certainly doesn’t disappoint.
“This way looks pretty safe,” I say, marching ahead around the corner and straight into the trap: six, maybe seven Thai teenagers, eyes full of malice, fingers already on the triggers of their pistols. I freeze. Behind me, my companions are backing away, about to take their chances ducking through
“Tell me again where you’re going,” says my Nan, pouring me a Bacardi and coke with significantly more Bacardi than coke. “Your dad said something about North Korea?”