Archive for the 'Postcards' Category
When do you know you’ve arrived? In Sweden, it was the first crunch of snow underfoot in the Landvetter carpark and air so cold it could bite your face off. In Borneo, it was the hot, clinging humidity in the air bridge. In Greece, it was the undeniable whiff of cheap aftershave mixed with dubious [...]
As the child of migrants, I became inured to biennial 40-hour flights to Sweden, punctuated by those character-building 7-hour stopovers in Changi or Schiphol. My body learnt the rhythms of this journey, where a flight to Sydney was an hors d’oeuvre, the trip into Asia merely an entree, the stint to Europe an impossible braise [...]
From the heart of Bangla Town in so-hot-right-now East London, crammed between Shoreditch twats and Bank district suits, comes a postcard of indefatigable nonsense and misplaced perspicacity. I’ve never before had quite so long to explore one city, so it’s been an indulgent affair of aimless wanderings, suburban jogs, swims at London Fields and naps [...]
Fellow travellers, vicarious eavesdroppers and others foolhardy enough to give me their email address, here comes another prolix postcard to warm the cockles and stroke your id. Once more, the winter that blights Melbourne has sent me scurrying for warmer climes and the chance to tiptoe through the excrement of other backpackers. Why Borneo? Well, [...]
We set off early saturday morning and Anne-Louise woke me with her arrival to pick me up. As i frantically got ready, she and Benedict zipped off to the Queen Vic markets for some spicy lamb boreks, which certainly suited my unkempt state. Picked up Stu and away we went to Wilson’s Promontory. It started [...]
Having enjoyed two sensational nights in Faralya, we were reluctant to miss “mamma’s dinner” the next night, but another adventure called. We left our packs at George House and with nothing more than board shorts, towels, sleeping bags and the sound of Sander singing “How Deep is Your Love” we boarded a dolmus bound for [...]
After a week with John on that special hunk of Mediterranean rock known as Symi, i bid my short, hairy father adieu and crossed a border that is undemanding in distance but perilous in political terms — the waters between Greece and Turkey. But before i regale you with startling stories featuring fezzed, monobrowed men [...]
Watch out! A small greco-swede from the antipodes is once again sitting at a far-flung keyboard and composing ‘postcards’ that are far too long for the myspace generation’s attention spans …… Flying from the third-largest Greek city in the world (Melbourne) to the largest Greek city (Athens) was always going to be a woggy affair. [...]
The Commonwealth Games here in Melbourne brought thousands of athletes and officials to town. It also brought a bevy of pin-wearing, aqua-clad volunteers who over-eagerly pointed people in random directions and man-handled them into trams and buses. Lanyards became the hottest accessory, with the fashion-conscious finding ways to wear them like a rifle slung over [...]
A recipe for adventure: Take one small Carl Nilsson-Polias, add a pinch of Anna and Ross Kingston, simmer for fifteen minutes slowly stirring in a cup of Robin Tatlow-Lord and serve with an eye-catching garnish of Alexis Buxton-Collins. What do you get? A hiking party in Tasmania’s wilderness. And, no, I didn’t pilfer those names [...]