Bon Voyage

The summer holidays already feel like eons ago.  I thought I’d defibrillate them back to life one last time with a final Thailand post.  Here are a few moments of Thailand that feel so holidays, Summer and well, Thailand.

The postbox says 'Bangkok' and 'Other Places'

Beach Rubbish Bin

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Dear Diary…

Today at gym I saw a lady who had made herself a hair sweatband out of the paper towel you use to dry your hands in public bathrooms.  She’d tied a bow at the back and everything.  She had a hair clasp but was using it to hold open the book that she was reading.  Whilst on the treadmill.  Too ameezing.

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About Three O’Clock

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Brooch from Boyfriend

Thank you, Boyfriend, for this lovely, midweek brooch.  It reminds me of my dad in the Eighties and a circus ring master and a puzzle piece.  Ameezing.

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Go sit in the corner, Joburg.

Dear Joburg,

It’s been a while since we spoke, so let’s have a chinwag.  First, the not so good.  Please can you send your taxi drivers to Finishing School, I’m thinking a My Fair Lady-esque class with wooden desks and an old chalkboard, with the whole class repeating, ‘No, after you, please’.  Also, pot holes and broken traffic lights, need I say more?  And lastly, please no more Tuscan townhouse pimples, they ruin your otherwise edgy and interesting landscape and make us feel a little sad every time we drive past them.

Now to the good stuff.  You are really keeping us on our toes with the weather, and secretly, I think we all love it.  I’m a huge fan of a mid-afternoon wardrobe change and with the skies going from blue to black to grey to hail green back to blue, its easy to go from pumps to boots to flip flops to scarves to vests to gumboots and back, all in one day.  It’s fun, so thank you.  And high five on the new places popping up all over town.  From the lovely 70 Juta Street in Braamfontein to the achingly chic Market on Main on Sunday afternoons, new places=new faces, nice.  And lastly, for the people of Joburg who continue to pour their hearts, money and minds into projects that timid ninnies like myself would blush and run away from, you are ameezing.

Okay Joburg, I think that is all for now.  Don’t forget your homework and gold star to you for the other stuff.



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When you’re travelling in a country whose language you don’t speak, read or write, words looks like unfamiliar squiggles, sentences look like a series of unfamiliar squiggles and signs, even the seemingly mundane ones,  sometimes look like modern art.  After a while even signs in your own language start to look surreal.  Here are a few of my favourite moments of illiteracy and English that made me look a little longer.

Made of straws

Tuk Tuk

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Jacqui and Ryan

For being my love plasters, Rockband masters and happily ever afters.  And more Ameezing than any of us could have asked for.  We love you.

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A ticket to Thailand for your birthday:  Unbelievable

Two weeks in Thailand:  Incredible

A trip to the dentist costing the same as two weeks in Thailand:  Priceless

Also, my dentist has excellently groomed nostrils and gives you headphones.  Having your teeth drilled to a soundtrack of classical music is a completely surreal experience.

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Once upon a time…

A while ago, when days were much darker, I wrote this as the beginning of something.  The middle is still in progress and the end is definitely a mystery.  But for the sake of living more honestly and not squirreling ideas away anymore I’m hitting copy and paste.  Page one, paragraph one:

As I watch the boiling water spurt into the mug and bloat the tea bag, it occurs to me that I don’t own any spoons.  Or knives or forks.  Or dinner plates or pots or glasses or sponges.  Chopping knives, frying pans, a bread board and that little thing you keep the plug in are all missing too.

When you find yourself, in the middle of the night, standing in a kitchen so empty  that it  feels like a Christmas tree without decorations,  you begin to wonder.  I look at my six champagne glasses, one olive pitter and empty utensil holder (never a more useless trio, even Macgyver himself would blush and shrug) and feel my heart pouring out of my eyes.

My Granny always used to say two things: “Too late, too late she cried, as she waved her wooden leg”  and “Well, that’s a Bloody Cheek”.    Neither of those expressions were ever very useful in passing wisdom down through the family tree but they are what I think about as I stand in my unintentionally minimalist kitchen at midnight, eating pot noodles with pencil crayons and straining that tea bag with my car key.

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People of Thailand

Man with Hat

Man with Hat's Foot



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