There’s the usual scrum for the Exeter train at Waterloo. It’s always announced very late, and you can spot the people waiting for it. They stare hungrily at the departure board, poised to leap into action every time the board is updated. The collective adrenaline is enough to kick start a whole carful of elephants into action. There’s a tangible slump every time the board changes and they realise that the platform still hasn’t been announced.… continued…
“It’s like we’re high,” said my friend Eileen, and I laughed because she was right. We had headed out for a walk in my neighborhood but it was impossible for us to move forward, everything was wrapped in a sparkling clear layer of glassy ice and we needed to look all of it. Twice. Up close. We gawked at the little black berries on the hedge that lines the west side of my yard — they were like eyeballs on stalks.… continued…
Sunny, our affable hiking guide, told the Brazilian Princess (BP) and me we had two options: spend the first trek night in a local villager’s home, or sleep over in a Buddhist monastery.
Immediately visions popped into my head of spunky young novice monks waking us with gentle Burmese chanting in a bright, sunlit building domed with flowers and bells gently ringing in the breezy courtyard under frangipani trees. Elders would meditate with us, peacefully emancipating our attached western minds and inviting us into an enlightened state of nirvana – all before breakfast!… continued…
Somewhere in a flat or house in China is a Lonely Planet phrasebook in Mandarin which used to belong to me. It has ‘Anis Ibrahim, Feb 2005’ in big, happy letters on the inside cover.
I met Fan on the T56, the overnight train from Xian to Beijing. When I first saw him, he was sitting at the window bunk in my compartment, cleaning his glasses with one end of his t-shirt. He nodded and gave me a brief smile.… continued…
We interrupt this month of guest posts for some pictures from the ice storm in Seattle.
