My Dad did many things in his life but there’s one thing he did that to me, feels like he achieved the impossible. He managed to leave me and each of my sisters with the quiet belief that we were his favourite girl. That wasn't a word Dad would have used, nor was it something … Continue reading Enough treasured stories of Dad to fill a book
I’ve visited my fair share of religious buildings in my travels, but I’ve never seen anything like what I saw in Phnom Penh this week. We walked through a laneway crowded with dark, cramped homes, with children playing, washing strung out on lines and motos parked against walls. Filled with the buzz of inner-city life. … Continue reading Whenever you need shelter
Sometimes you walk into a place and there’s an undeniable sense of it being a man’s or a woman’s domain. That’s how it felt when we visited the house where my friend’s mother, Mrs C, was born in Mauritius. Men have lived here, but it’s been a significant place for women. Perhaps my perspective had … Continue reading A woman’s world
This blog was going to start with an anecdote about running… and in the next draft I wrote, it was going to start with something my Dad once said to me. Now it feels a bit self-indulgent, as I write about the struggles of writing. But if you stick with me, the wrestling I’ve done … Continue reading Why this blog has been hard to write
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