Across Continents

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Into the Wild

July 20th, 2011

Today’s Kiwese word or phrase: "Veerjun". Fast footed French lass

Thought I might have seemed a bit abrupt. I’d been late to bed. Engrossed in conversation with Gurnam in the hostel lounge. Retiring close to midnight. Room mate Johanna already in her bunk. Quickly extinguishing the light. Drifting into conversation. Until I’d said I’d really needed to get some sleep. Early morning bus to catch.

Had I heard of a little-known film "Into the Wild" she’d asked? No doubt to her surprise, I explained I had. Brief synopsis of the story. I’d enjoyed it. Brief anecdote. Anonymous friend who’d not been so taken by it. Watching it alone. Save for a bottle of whisky and a handgun. His only companions in an otherwise inhospitable place.

She’d plans to visit London before her eventual return home to Germany. I’d suggested she might like to stay at Holland Park Youth Hostel. Peaceful spot, not too expensive, and well-placed for exploring the Capital. And be sure to pick up an Oyster card for getting around on public transport. Sensed a smile. A fellow hosteller proffering the same two pieces of advice.



Punakaiki Lisa

July 8th, 2011


Today’s Kiwese word or phrase: "Fitter cheney". Type of pasta

She liked languages. Spoke five. Dutch. Her native German. Italian. English. Fluent. And the Swiss dialect I can never quite remember the name of.



Provocative mutterings

May 22nd, 2011

He despised everyone. Or so it seemed. But especially the French. And the Germans. Both of which there were quite a few at the campsite. If he disliked the English he didn’t say. Far too cowardly for that. Instead, a steady stream of provocative mutterings. Confident in the knowledge that he’d not be challenged by those he lamented.

Deuusi had been staying at the site for some weeks. Fruit picking locally. But soon to return to the Paris suburbs. One week left. And then the park’s cleaner cum gardener consigned to history. Where he belonged. She smiled.



German psychology

May 20th, 2011


Had he pushed buttons? No, I replied. With a teasing grin. If that had been the case, I explained, then he’d know about it. I’d be standing on his head, I added. Half jokingly.

Ralf was Australian. But unmistakably German in his origins. In later years he’d studied psychology. Was I running away from something? Shouldn’t I get a motor car? Raise my self-esteem? Was I cycling around the world? Actually, yes, I replied. Smiling.



Curious case of the bank note

December 31st, 2010

Curious case of the bank note from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.

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