And in other news…

TS Eliot said that April is the cruellest month, but this January might be the longest of months, in this the darkest winter of our soul. I pray for the optimism of April, the new growth and we’ll emerge blinking into the light, cowed and ready for regenerating the broken bones of our society. I

Merry Christmas! from Queenbot and the Brexit islanders

Someone told me that Athens is the place where your usual coping strategies reach their limits, and I don’t know if that’s true but 2020 might have been the year that our dreams withered away in the face of sheer chaos. Lulu Miller writes in her book Why Fish Don’t Exist that chaos inevitably makes

lessons learned from a life less travelled in lockdown Bristol

It’s over. It’s not over. i left Bristol last week and i cried when i said goodbye to my housemate and the dog in anticipation of the separation anxiety that will ensue without the latter bounding into my room every morning to lick my face. After seven long months of lockdown and the aftermath in

Ya Beirut ya haram

My friend texts me on Tuesday evening: there’s been an explosion in Beirut, and I quickly look up the news to see what happened. I think immediately of a violent attack – a sectarian bomb, hitting the country already on its knees in economic collapse, seeking to take advantage of the corona-caused pause in the

cycling to cologne

Two weeks ago I decided to cycle to Cologne to see some friends. I wanted to escape boris-land for a time, and was curious how fast I could do the 730-ish km route. I had cycled to Cologne on the way to Turkey in 2017 and remember that I was too scared to wild camp

the smouldering ruins of racial capitalism

One Friday night in May I watched as a fire engine pulled up to Turbo Island to deal with the embers of a bonfire for the drinkers and I stopped to take a picture, noticing afterwards the fire fighter leaning out of the window smirking at me. Then I headed off up to Gloucester Road.

Eid mubarak

The Polish poet Wislawa Szymborska said that writing is the revenge of a mortal hand and today is Friday 22nd May and I don’t know what day of the lockdown it is but the lockdown seems like it’s bled out into a hazy grey area where we’re encouraged to get back to work but not

between a far right future and 80s dreams of dystopia

It’s Friday 1st May and Bristol’s looking amazing in the last hours of sunshine. I’m all over south Bristol tonight bringing kebabs and pizza to the heartland masses. I’ve been finding enjoyment in the road names this week. On Wednesday when i was doing the shopping for E in Staple Hill I went down Shrubbery

Leaving April behind and listening to news of eels

It’s Wednesday 29th April and anyone that didn’t already know it already can see that Brexit island is drifting slowly into obscurity that’s now become a tragedy we might not know the full weight of yet. I catch up on the news today and I watch the German news on DW because it’s sober and

love and trees in the time of corona

I cycle the length of the feeder to St Annes and drop off the lasagne and I remember when my friend went bridge swinging on New Years Eve once with climbing friends and they calculated the ropes wrong and she dropped straight in the feeder. The feeder canal runs from Netham Lock in East Bristol