Obviously the writing gods must know I’ve been a bit lax about working on my novel lately. Who would have thought there’d be an actual crime scene out the front of my house on Christmas Eve, followed by a medical…
Category: solo travel
It’s time. Like now
Remember back at start of the FOT, I was on a reconnaissance mission. I had a year’s head start on my friend Jane in the “what do we do with our lives once the kids finish school” game. Well, today…
50 ways to leave your lover… or your job.
I must admit, I’ve become somewhat of an expert at dropping the microphone. I probably have done it in 50 ways. But in the last few years, even I have taken things to the next level. I still rate this…
Thwarted yet again
I came back home from the USA with a spring in my step, ready to restart my writing career and continue with my fitness regime. I should have just laid on the lounge and waited for the feelings to pass.…
Husband – comma – 6
Last night I met an Existentialist in a bar. Really. What are the chances? Could this be Husband, 6? Spoiler alert – it’s a ‘no’ from me. But I have made a new List. Now I’m just asking for a…
The reverse bower bird strikes again
I really am having a gap year. The amount of lost underwear is extraordinary. Just this week I lost more of it in Atlanta. And it even comes with a decent dose of embarrassment too. Rewind a few days and…
You know it’s a sign
You know it’s a sign when you’re in the airport queue and you see someone you really, really like but haven’t seen for 20 years. Nearly 30 years ago I had the best job ever. I was part of the…
The art of PIE
It’s amazing how close humans are to a riot at all times. It only takes one PIE (Pusher-In-Erer) to cause an orderly group of airport queuers to lose their shit. The hardest part of the whole overseas trip was, you…
Lost and found
The Festival of Tina is not like a typical Australian 18 year old’s gap year, where you leave a trail of destruction across the globe. I’m more mature than that. Instead I’ve left a trail of stuff around the world.…
Danger of morte and merde
The two main dangers in France are death… and stepping in dog shit. I’ve been living here in Villefranche-sur-Mer for nearly two weeks now and I’m shocked that I am still alive. I’m even more shocked that my shoes are…