Articles tagged with: stories
Stories from the road »
It smells like heaven in here.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, allowing the soft perfume to wash over me.
I step over the threshold and I’m in Macys, Myers or David Jones. This Vietnamese department store has every perfume on hand. For $100 I could smell like J.Lo.
The bright lights attracted me in off the street. Here past the Casio watches and the diamond rings is a tiny perfume lover’s utopia.
I walk slowly down the aisle, admiring the beautiful bottles neatly lined up behind the shiny glass. A …
Stories from the road, featured »
I have stepped into the twilight zone
The music is thumping, the dance floor is packed… fly boys and girls gyrate skilfully to the hip hop beats from the imported DJ’s in the corner.
My mouth hits the floor. Two minutes ago I was sharing a motorbike with 2 of my friends, dodging the holes in the roads and precisely avoiding the melee of bikes, taxis and buses. The sole of my right high heel has melted through from having my foot on the muffler. And now, here on the 20th floor …
Stories from the road »
Boring day.. studying, preparing for CELTA
Going to meet the touch team at JAFA bar at Ciputra, supposedly a 15 min drive away
I decide to take my motorbike and check the map. It looks easy and the directions get sent by text message.
At the end of my street I turn left, onto the Vietnamese highway,
Staying left – fast lane, move into the right side and cruise along “I got this”
Next thing, road splits, and I’m on a bridge to the other side of town
The sun is setting, I don’t have …
Stories from the road »
There are days when I wake up and I hate Vietnam. There are days when I love it so much I never want to leave. Today is somewhere in between.. So far
At 10pm last night I was with the crew of expat blokes I have been hanging out with lately, I won’t mention their nationalities, lest I be considered too nationality focussed (as some have accused me of!) but I will say, they are a good bunch of men.
The evening started for me at one of my favourite cafes, cafe …
Stories from the road »
Waking up this morning, I couldn’t hear the rain. I put my hand on the door handle and it starts. Hunger is a powerful thing, and I thought I would be okay outside. I stumble out the front door of the hotel; the rain is coming down consistently, not heavy.. Just enough to get soaked through.
I walk around the block, searching the streets for a cafe. The rain is gathering momentum. I take a side street, maybe there is food down there?
It just keeps raining.
More fucking rain
The streets are now …




