Maryland: Sheep, Wool, and Mead
If I had a fiver for every time someone said “I was a great knitter,” during my two-year stint working in a wool shop, I would not have needed to keep working in a...
Tagged: America
San Francisco: An Epistle
Dear San Francisco, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I went to Seattle and said it was just as good as you but without the price tag. I’m sorry I was seduced by...
Connections: Houston
“People in IAH are rude today. Passengers, anyway.” Travel journal, 11 April 2014 After my ill-fated attempts to transfer through sexy airports like SFO and JFK, I quickly realised that the road less travelled...
On flexibility and the potential for delight
The forced flexibility of standby flight awakens you to unexpected discovery and delight, if you allow yourself to open to them. You don’t know if you’re going to get onto a flight, in many...
Portland: Echoes of the familiar
“This is because I didn’t sit before leaving my sister’s flat…” — Travel journal, 26 April 2014 Although no one I know lived in Portland when I visited, almost everyone had an opinion on...
On Coffee I
For a country that allegedly runs on coffee, it is surprisingly difficult to get a good cup of it in the US. It’s ludicrously easy to get coffee, as long as you’re not picky,...
