Not Leaving Luang Prabang!

Paul was out of cigarette papers and so lazily tore a couple of the dryer pages from ‘The Lonely Planet’ – they weren’t hard to find! He rolled a herbal cigar and lay back in the boys’ shabby bedroom . A wonderfully tawdry chamber. Lime green cornicing skirted  the ceiling and faded lemon plaster soured the walls. A mouldy wash basin and a pea-green en-suite one wished wasn’t there completed the design. T’was full of Indochine class and Laotian filth! He and Andrew loved it. So much so that the UNESCO World Heritage […]

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Generated Paradise!

Paul woke in paradise at 1.30am, his entire body stinging from the bites of a tropical squadron of insects. The little buggers were buzzing around him like miniature Messerschmitt, each keen to land and pick up their bloody payload, punctually puncturing him every seven seconds, or so it seemed! Added to the critters fighting trench war fare amid the folds of the ancient mattress, Paul wanted to commit insecticide, but had neglected to pack any! It was interminable. There was a mosquito net but it resembled a moth-eaten piece of […]

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The Lola Boys Go To Pearl Island!

Paul had implored Andrew not to touch the oyster curry. It sounded to him both unappealing and dangerous. It turned out to be both! On the long train journey down from Prachuap Khiri Khan, heading for the jungle of Khao Sok, Andrew suddenly became violently ill in carriage 8, on seat 29. The passenger in seat 30 was not amused. Andrew suddenly developed the pallor of a stale Brussel sprout, and had already started to emit the putrid wind that is associated with that most unpopular of vegetables. After another of […]

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A Bridge Over Troubled Water.

The boys arrived in Sangkhom, a small town further along the Mekong, with just a little trepidation. They had visited the friendly workaday settlement four years previously, and had loved it for it’s exquisite ordinariness. Paul rarely liked to journey backwards, much preferring the surprise and adventure of the soi less travelled. Quite often somewhere revisited had lost the very essence of why one returned, tarnishing both the return trip and the original stay. It was always a risk. Fortunately very little had changed in Sangkhom. On pulling in to […]

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In The City Of An Artist Of Spanish Abstraction.

The Picasso museum in Malaga was certainly interesting. Some of the old Spaniard’s work really appealed – some of it did not. To be honest, if I want to see an impossibly twisted torso with a disturbingly contorted face I only need to look at Andrew laying beside me of a morning! And I don’t have to pay ten euros for the pleasure. I once had a London agent who often told me I had a face that reminded her of a Picasso – after experiencing eleven rooms of his paintings, […]

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Our Norman Conquest.

Our Norman Conquest. Well we did it! Normandy. We came; we sang; we conquered. Mon Dieu! We landed far from the famous wartime beaches – in the romantically named Charles De Gaulle Aeroport.  I know very little of the actual man, except he certainly didn’t want to allow Britain into the European Common Market, and, in my ‘umble opinion, bore a fairly close resemblance to a young Inspector Clouseau.  Touche´ Charlie ! All I know is that the aerodrome sounds terribly Gallic, and that’s enough por moi when arriving somewhere […]

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