Memoir

Roberto rolled out of his hammock and felt the soles of his feet against a mud floor. He could hardly stand up. An empty bottle of local brew fell from him and bounced by his [more…]

I’m in my hotel room, above the ‘Anglo Philippine’ office in Davao City, having my siesta. I’m in the dangerous south of the Philippine islands to, amongst other things, make a delivery of school books [more…]

For a recap of the story so far, please click here. We’re plodding around Lille on a cold Sunday afternoon at the end of November 2018. There are six of us in a wedge. Five [more…]

For a recap of the story so far, please click here. For some reason, Sister thought that things were, ‘Pretty shitty’. She’d just met the Pope, was flying first class and was eating a delicious [more…]

We are a family of six taking a late November weekend break in chilly Northern France. It is the year 2018. We are split into three teams as, unfortunately, I have accidentally booked us into [more…]

We’re in a taxi. It is the middle of the night. There is myself, the driver, uncle Jesus from Bacolod and a hired, senior police officer who is pointing a gun at me. Uncle Jesus, [more…]

There may not be a Santo Domingo and Macapagal intersection, suitable for bus spotting after a courier drop. There is a Roberto Orca and Bonifacio Drive and that’s where we’re stood right now this minute, [more…]

Sunday got off to a strange start, as I hadn’t changed the time on my phone and the rotter hadn’t changed itself. My team turned up for the rendezvous an hour late. We’re stopping in [more…]