I’ve been back in the land of peat, rain, brick lanes and whisky for a few weeks now. Back home in the autumnal Scottish Borders where my family, friends, dogs and home comforts are busy easing me back into the normal swing of things (slowly, but surely). And somehow, somehow, as so many have already pointed out (with more than a dash of surprise), I made it nine and change months round the world and came back in one piece. Continue reading “How to rough it on the road and still come back smiling”
‘Cause when people are enslaved one of the first things they do is stop them readin’. ‘Cause it is well understood that intelligent people will take their freedom. ‘Cause if we knew our power we would understand we couldn’t be held down.
– Akala, Fire in the Booth Freestyle Continue reading “Don’t try and take The Simpsons off Bolivian TV”
invisible valleys of my fingers
are martian red and dirty
black; choked with dust & oil.
the sunset washes them pretty
in the blue dusk, but
bent on grunge and defilement
i’m caught in golden rays
working dry tobacco
into their depths.
filterless, i push the rolly
between my lips and light
it with the last gasp of day –
burn my lungs as i pull,
trance-like in the presence
of volcanoes and giants. Continue reading “Poems // Las Poesias”
Who ever said Bolivian busses were shitty? If only you could be a mosquito on the window right now, you’d see my #travelbae Luke and I snug as two bugs, wrapped up in our llama jumpers & socks, snacks by our feet, chairs reclined, blankets tucked over us, as Bolivian evening trundles by on our way to its capital: La Paz. Continue reading “Don Quixote y el Capo”
He singles in on the gentle trickle of gin over ice cubes, and the hummingbird thrum of metal skimming glass as the bartender mixes a drink. He blocks everything else out until this tiny alcoholic waterfall is the only sound in the world. And then, beat by beat, and with controlled countenance, he lets the noises of the evening back in. Continue reading “Listening to Miles Davis on a Bus in Argentina”
We’re perched on the back of a pickup truck, gazing with pride at the newly finished chicken coop we built (from foundations up), eating walnuts picked straight from the tree beside us. To my right is a field full of horses – I spot Indio, the one I’ve been riding the past few days – and behind them, on the horizon, the Andes.
I could live like this, I think. Quite easily. Continue reading “Living La Vida Buena”