Aircraft Medicine

I've purposefully not named routes, companies or people involved here. I've also tried to keep my level of detailed description to a minimum. This is to protect the dignity and confidentiality of all involved. In Five Feet Apart, love cannot be expressed by human touch. In this heart-wrenching and unflinching portrayal, two Cystic Fibrosis patients... Continue Reading →

Nightmare

Another terrible poem I hope nobody who likes literary talent bothers to read. Yet this is some way of dissipating anger at the unjust conversations taking place around me: 'I had a nightmare getting to the doctors,' says the lady, about her cosmetic surgery, on her luxury holiday. I wish to lean over and say... Continue Reading →

Essentially Complex

Language and millenialism are not easy. In fact, in this world where we must be careful about correctness, am I even millenial? Maybe I'm pre-millenial (I'm a child of the 80s) or post-millenial (as some kind of matter of personal stance on various theories and approaches). In any case, it is right that we are... Continue Reading →

Thomas Cook: A Protest Poem

This is because complaining to customer service, requesting staff be better supported to deal with bad behaviour (which costs money), or suggesting 'safety-first-flying' might come before maximising profit, would achieve nothing. So instead I resort to writing appaling poetry. Sadly, despite the best efforts of TC staff, I've still never felt so unsafe on a... Continue Reading →

A retrospective: Banjul

In Banjul: there are open sewers criss-crossed by overhead telegraph poles. there are rusty tin-roofed buildings with moats of standing water. industrial rubbish lines the streets. naturally, there is dust. At the tranquil intersection of Daniel Goddard Street and Independence Avenue, a man pisses against a wall. In any other global city this would be... Continue Reading →

Crossing the border, waking the dead

The Gambian border post at Amdallai looks the same as back in 2006. I do not have my belongings searched and am not told lies about carrying illegal materials (such as a radio) as I was back then. There is much less corruption. I walk past the detention cage to the interview room where the... Continue Reading →

Fake News Saved My Skin

Two weeks ago, I left the gleaming hotels of Serrekunda and the Gambia's smaller and dustier capital behind: After a 1.5 hour wait at Banjul's ferry terminal, I board the car and passenger ferry that takes me North to Barra and West-Central Senegal. The ticket costs 25 dalasi, or 38 UK pence. At Barra, I... Continue Reading →

Horse and Cart

We meander between the huts rooved with dried palm leaves and out towards the baobab and palm forest. The only sound is the gentle click-clack of the horse's hooves on the sand. Yaw, the toddler, is - like me - more relaxed and comfortable in nature. We are companionably silent, transfixed by the landscape. The... Continue Reading →

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