Monthly Archives: May 2017

Hunter S. Thompson and Scratching the Surface.

Whatever the ballpoint does, it’s just scratching on the surface. ‘The voice of his generation,’ trumpeted the blurb on the back cover of a dog-eared Hunter. S. Thompson collection of letters. This sentence and its accompanying bombastic hyperbole spun my … Continue reading

Posted in Indo-China | Tagged | Leave a comment

Pedalling Taipei

Roadside insurance claims: Blood money Summer was an overripe melon that year; it dropped heavily and without warning and flattened everything beneath it. But that wasn’t unusual, here in Taipei: seasons don’t slowly fade into each other in the subtropics; … Continue reading

Posted in Taiwan | Tagged | Leave a comment

Tryin’ to Get to Mexico

Part 1: North into the Jaws of El Nino I was still cold from the night on the sodden earth and the spitting rain looked like it would wax into torrents. I got off my bicycle. “Let’s turn back south,” … Continue reading

Posted in The Americas | Tagged | Leave a comment

At the River Kwai

One-way Ticket Gracefully, a smiling, blue-shirted employee of the Royal Thai State Railway proffered a ticket over the counter. Victor Offord, gruff and unshaven, snatched it back through the semicircular hole in the Perspex that separated the two of them. … Continue reading

Posted in Indo-China, Short Story | Tagged , | Leave a comment

O’Keefe’s Dog Day

The company man’s GRV Corp. tie clip clanked against the smoked window of his car, a ¬†company car, as he stooped to unlock the door. He’d had the electronic key disabled after successfully copying the signal into his own home-made … Continue reading

Posted in Short Story | Tagged | Leave a comment

Paul S. Davey (writer and traveller)

Several decades ago, snow-fresh sober, I heard a chattering telling me that I needed to fix things — break through the ice and trudge off. Perhaps it was the voice of Buddha-like Marlow, Conrad’s narrator drawing me into the Heart … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

The Fate of Ivan Bidditch

For no other reason than a profound taste for the absurd, Ivan Bidditch liked to trace back the important events in his life and discover the preposterous coincidences on which they depended. At twelve ‚Ķ At eighteen, he landed his … Continue reading

Posted in Short Story | Tagged | Leave a comment