Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan - Unplayed Piano
Free Aung San Suu Kyi
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Home Again
After circling Manchester Airport nervously due to some violent thunderstorms for an age (did the old couple seated behind me really have to confirm - again and again - that it was lightning they saw outside the window?) I landed back on home territory on Sunday night. What to say?...
The sun is shining, the fields are green and gold, people are buzzing even though we got knocked out of the World Cup on penalties (again), my family and my friends are dead chuffed to see me (as I am to see them) and yesterday my mum fixed me bacon butties on white bread with brown sauce.
My mum is funny. I went to my local - the Black Bear - last night for a beer with my brother and some friends. It got to about 11pm and the pub phone rings. My mother. Now. Despite my inability to fry an egg or work out how to open the door to the washing machine, I am twenty-nine years old, fairly independent and I can look after myself when needs be. Over the past four years I've travelled quite a bit, often alone and fortunately without any major troubles. I've lived in Phnom Penh, the sort of place where you can get shot for stepping on someones toe in a nightclub. I've been alone in Dhaka, Bangladesh - a city where it's not uncommon to get hijacked in a cycle-rickshaw for a couple of dollars. And I've been in Bombay around the time of the Iraq invasion and people were burning the Union Jack in the streets. My mother calls me at the Black Bear in Sandbach saying she can't sleep because she's worried about me walking home on my own. Peace everyone, it's been a blast.
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