To the last man standing. To the big night out. The party isn’t over if the music’s still playing. Who did I get that cigarette…
“They are here because you were there. There is an umbilical connection.” – Stuart Hall, Black Chronicles. The following is a reluctant journal of my…
Kitsune, Kyoto. A sticky summer’s night. You’ve been drinking by the river in Gion-Shijo with your friends, Strong Zeroe’s from the 7/11 down the road,…
You’re riding the bus to Ministro Pistarini International Airport, Buenos Aires, and need to fart. You’ve successfully come to the end of five months travelling…
He bumbles aimlessly through the station, his sandy brown hair a beacon, head and shoulders above the tide of mostly black. He has no passport…
I’m in the hostel common area and they’re all here. There’s the German solo traveller in sensible outdoor clothes; the bubbly Scandinavian girls who embarrass…
What a night. Thank fuck it’s nearly over. Olivia’s sat at the empty bar waiting for the rest of us to finish. Livs works across…
Opening scene: Australia A beautiful young woman sits at her office cubicle longingly staring at a photo of the La Sagrada Familia on her computer…
It was on a winter afternoon, during a stroll through the aesthetic architecture that Copenhagen is known for, that an impulse to cultivate myself with…
Clack, Clack, Clack. I press my teeth together as I sit on a stool in the tiny, five-person bar. The edges of my vision blur…
Enormous clouds cling to the peaks of snow-capped mountains. Winking prickly pears and violet wildflowers greet us on either side of a path that looks…
When I boarded my flight to Bali as a naïve, 19-year-old solo traveller, the last thing my mum said to me was “always wear a…
