A selection of our photos is now available for viewing on Flickr. Do have a look and let us know what you think!
I’m starting work on a website for the Natural History Museum at Edinburgh University (old website here) and I came across the work of Samatha Clark, and artist who’s doing some work in collaboration with the museum. One of her other projects, A Year of Breathing, seems relevant to mention here: Continue reading
Graham Stone kindly informs me that in Papua New Guinea pidgin, ‘My hovercraft is full of eels’ becomes the epic:
Balus em i no goupim bilong me em i pullup long liklik pela snek bilong solwarra
(Literally: My aeroplane (balus) that can’t fly (no go up) is fullup of little saltwater snakes.)
Aeroplane maintenance is quite a mouthful too. Propellor becomes ‘tingting bilong balus em i go raunraun’. If damaged, this becomes ‘tingting bilong balus em i go raunraun em i buggerup tru’.
All of which is just and excuse to say that we will be adding more to the blog soon, having just about recovered from the journey home. And the photos will be up on Flickr very soon, with a link posted here of course.
- Abstract nouns I-spy.
- Prison cell hide & seek.
- Underwater blow football.
- Meltemi Monopoly in a sandstorm on the beach at Serifos (chocolate pieces to make it more challenging).
- Paris Gare du Nord: flip flapflapflap of the train indicator board — a “lost sound” according to the BBC sound archive.
- “Passaporte! Passaporte!” at 2:30am on the Bulgarian border.
- Cicadas everywhere we went in Greece.
- Through Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary: the bell clang of the wheel tappers’ hammers going down the train.
Guidebooks are of course an essential staple of the independent traveller. Continue reading
Chalk and clay, astounding eroded rock formations. No campsite here at all, but free camping on the beach. Very much quieter here than the other islands, and we are having to practise our Greek. Continue reading
The campsite is big and commercial, tents packed close together. There’s a swimming pool — the kids would spend the whole time there if we didn’t drag them out to the beach! It’s much too hot to sleep in the tent, so Callum and I sleep on the beach under a tamarisk tree, blasted by sand blown by the meltemi (the hot seasonal wind). Continue reading
A busy campsite, but very relaxed atmosphere. People sitting playing chess and backgammon, 1970s rock music playing in the cafe, five minutes to the (swimming costumes definitely optional) beach. Continue reading
When I first talked to our friend Rachael about our journey a few months ago, she described it as a “sacrificial” action. Rather an interesting choice of words, I thought. “Sacrifice” these days tends to have unfortunate connotations of ostentatious self-deprivation, or empty ritual. Continue reading