The Night Bus
So, the night bus in London. Squabbling teenagers. Aggressive crackheads spouting bullshit at the bus driver in pursuit of a free ride home (or wherever)....
So, the night bus in London. Squabbling teenagers. Aggressive crackheads spouting bullshit at the bus driver in pursuit of a free ride home (or wherever)....
So Z got dumped by his girlfriend. Or did he? It came up the first time in a moment of anxiety atop a sand dune...
Z and I are sitting at a roadside stall in Mui Ne, Vietnam, watching a very cute, extremely solemn and phenomenally determined toddler hounding an...
We have won the long division war! Once Z started humming the theme tune to 2001 at volume, I knew we were going to be...
In South-East Asia, we’ve been spending a lot of time on the back of bikes. Call them motos, xe om or motorbike taxis, they’re generally...
The Cu Chi tunnels, twenty miles or so outside Saigon, make the trenches of Flanders look like R&R in Bangkok. More than 200 kilometres of...
There is an old Khmer saying which runs roughly as follows: “Eat anything that has four legs except a table, eat anything that flies except...
One quiet evening, Francois’ brother played Mendelssohn on the balcony of our Phnom Penh guesthouse, and he played it well. Francois is a writer, two...
Angkor Wat. The icon of a nation. One of the wonders of the world. Tens of kilometres of bas-relief. Acres of lawns. Sacred pools which...
Z will contentedly nap on motorbikes, ride the tailgate on pickups, sit on the edge of a boat and stand up in the back of...