Nostalgia

In which I pretend to be some sort of writer

What's in the room?

I awoke from sleep at 9am sharp, my puritanical soul rebelling against the very concept of rest that my tired bones so desperately desired. Checked my phone and smothered myself with a pillow block out the light, and to an extra two hours sleep. Some time last year, while living

Alone in Andalucia

Given enough time, any cosy hotel room becomes a prison cell, total freedom a desert. The reverse is also true. It's all perspective, and perspective shifts. Neither the yearn to roam and the need to be home can never be a panacea for people like us. Having liberated

Across the Waves

I've been living in Gibraltar for three weeks now. With only two weeks notice, I packed everything up, said my goodbyes, and off I went. Before that I dropped everything and travelled cross country for a new job in the south of England. And for some people, it&

February

February 2020. A quick trip to Brussel, via Amsterdam. Pleasure, not business. The budget flight is packed with English tourists. Brussel seems normal. Quiet, the off season. Bruxelloise drink biertjes in the café. Rain. News about a far away new virus circulates. Signs in the airport about reporting illness and