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Read more: 148. The middle of the middle148. The middle of the middle
There’s a particular kind of humility that comes from being assigned seat 28E. The middle. The mathematical centre of other people’s discomfort, for thirteen hours, from Los Angeles to Aotearoa. To my right: a woman whose body had simply outgrown the architecture around it (and the bones buried within it). Her flesh pressed warmly against…
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137. 中国，请解释。 (China. Please explain.)
Read more: 137. 中国，请解释。 (China. Please explain.)This morning at the Vang Vieng train station, I accidentally became China-famous. A man scanned a sea of empty seats and chose the one directly beside me. Moments later his entire tour group assembled opposite us, giggling like we were about to film a talk show, and very politely asked if they could take photos……
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135. Looking for a sign? Have I got the place for you.
Read more: 135. Looking for a sign? Have I got the place for you.Today’s dispatch from Laos comes to you live from a series of signs that briefly convinced my amygdala I was in grave danger until it turned out I am absolutely fine. First up: Food is strictly prohibited in this area.Fair. Reasonable. We don’t have to eat everywhere do we?But I still felt strangely scolded, like…
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134. Vang Vieng: A little café with a big truth
Read more: 134. Vang Vieng: A little café with a big truthThere’s a reason I don’t stick to the beaten track: it has fewer discoveries. Which is how I found myself, on my first day in this small town on the Nam Song River, standing outside the Pull Mind café covered in dust in 30-degree heat, having a moment. What an inspired name. Because from where I’m standing…
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133. A Singapore birthday: sweaty, scenic and surprisingly content
Read more: 133. A Singapore birthday: sweaty, scenic and surprisingly contentWaking up on a non-significant birthday, alone in Singapore on a muggy early morning, was more than fine by me. It was a day of possibilities in a life that remains studded with them. And I think that’s about the best outcome I can ever ask for, whatever number I’m quietly ticking over. Perplexity and…
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132. 48 hours in Buenos Aires.
Read more: 132. 48 hours in Buenos Aires.I love this place. Am I becoming relentless? I especially love the freedom here; I am out of the Jill fucking Brinsdon box people like to keep me in – of a certain age, of a certain profession, of a certain expectation. I am nobody here, and everybody. My hair and eyes seem to give…
Secret Royalty On Tour 