I’ve been talking, dreaming, writing and thinking in metaphors. It’s my thing these days – giving in to the urge to extract symbolic meaning from all of the weird experiences and situations I’ve found myself in lately. Call it the plight of a writer (if I can even call myself that), or the curse ofRead more
On the day before we catch the red-eye back to Wellington, Mel asks me if I might blog about Melbourne. She said it would be interesting to hear how I had witnessed the city and to compare it to her own experiences. It’s Monday night. Cat and Fiona took a flight back Auckland this afternoonRead more
After spending so much time in SE Asia, the word “expat” started to take on a fairly creepy meaning. If you’ve been to Vietnam (or any other Asian or developing country), you’ve seen them. White men. Somewhere between the ages of 50 to 65 years old. Big bellied. Almost always smokers and readily spotted atRead more
For the past three months, I lived a big, free, happy, unusual life. Now, I am back in New Zealand. It’s a beautiful Autumn day in Wellington. The sun in shining. There is a light, crisp breeze running through the cleanest air I have ever known. A perfect day. And I must go to theRead more
So much to say. So little time to tell it in. So I won’t. Only this. Four days left. I am melting in Saigon. Hot, sweaty and oozing of love. Looking forward to the coming winter in that island country in the South Pacific and to bundle up with the same, delicious sorts of things.Read more
It finally happened. I got ripped off. I got played. I got screwed over. Enough with the dramatics. Here’s the story. It’s raining outside, a cold winter’s night in Hanoi. I am running late to meet a friend at a bar across town. The xe oms, or cheap motorbike taxis, that so often frequent everyRead more
A love letter to “Greg”, my 50 litre Gregory Jade backpack, who has been my most faithful travel companion over the years. Dear Greg, You’ve taken a hammering over the years. Seen too many dirty floors and dusty trails. Been thrown into many under carriages of hot buses and trains, buried underneath things far largerRead more
Writers block, writers block, writers block. How can I describe the last few days? How can I find the right words to explain how things happened, how people and families have welcomed me into their homes, their lives? How I am feeling my own existence in ways I’ve never felt before? It’s been two weeksRead more
There’s something about returning to a place you’ve already traveled to that gives it more weight. We don’t go back to places that bore us, places that don’t excite us in some way. We go back because we are looking for more. With this often comes great expectations. With less than two days left beforeRead more