We wanted to go somewhere typically Tokyo. We choose Senso-ji, the city’s oldest temple, thinking it would be calm; hoping it would give us a glimpse into the life of Tokyoites and a gentle intro. to the mega metropolis. Approaching the great Kaminarimom or Thunder Gate we were taken aback by the number of people. Rickshaw drivers touted for custom. Japanese students asked if they … Continue reading Surprising Senso-Ji.
I’ve never researched a place so intensively as Tokyo. I spent hours pouring over the Lonely Planet, and many, many more on the internet. Usually in this planning stage, things stand out for me, hit me in the gut. I know where I want to go, and what feels right for me. Once I have a springboard, I leave the rest to fate. With Tokyo … Continue reading Monkey Mind, Zen Head in Tokyo.
Two pairs of grey slippers on a round green mat. Lined up and waiting for us to step into them and our new life in Kaminoge, Tokyo. We’d been travelling for three days, delayed by fog in Istanbul. The slippers made an impression. ‘Leave the outside behind you’, they seemed to say. ‘Your’e home now. Turn your attention inwards’. We did and collapsed into bed. … Continue reading We’re in Tokyo!
February. We’d arranged to look after Sophie and Bobby in the New Forest. Two labradors. One golden. One chocolate. Both gorgeous. Sophie is nine. A dog with selective hearing. Always hanging back, rolling in something unsavoury, eating something disgusting. She’ll come back when she’s ready, tongue lolling, looking up at me as if she’s laughing; sticking her nose into my pocket hoping for a treat. … Continue reading Out of Season. Out of Time.
‘I’m naughty Kate’, she said, extending her hand, and looking at me over the top of her glasses. Her eyes sparkled, but it was clear she was a force to be reckoned with. She continued making her jewellery, painstakingly threading beads onto cotton, as she told me her story. ‘I have two children,’ she said, a boy and a girl, but there’s sixteen years between … Continue reading Kate’s Story.
Travelling so much has it’s downsides. Lack of regularity, lack of habit, lack of roots. To compensate we establish our own traditions when we stay a while. In Cape Town, visits to the Oranjezicht City Farm market every Saturday morning became a looked forward to treat. It was (nearly) all about food. And mostly about eating it. Some even took their own plate! The raw stuff looked … Continue reading A Market Within Sight of the Ocean.
Kruger National Park is a bubble. A fantastic bubble. But a bubble nonetheless. Real life is suspended. ‘Won’t it be nice to get back to a normal routine? You know, get up, have a cuppa, slow breakfast and a shower, instead of shooting off looking for animals’, said Jim. Some things to think about during a trip to the park. The Early Bird Catches The … Continue reading The Kruger Bubble.
‘If a tea-bag can be given a new lease of life, I think a human being can’. Lynette Torbit. Tucked away in Hout Bay, just along the road from Imizamo Yethu is a heritage Cape Dutch property. Set back from the road, it’s not so noticable, but inside magic happens. Lives are transformed along with the tea-bags, rubbish becomes art, creativity and confidence surge, and … Continue reading The Power of a Tea-bag.
The Waterkant ‘Second palm tree on the left please’… that’s what we tell taxi–drivers. I love ‘living’ in the quaint Waterkant, a.k.a. ‘the village’, a Disneyfied version of the Bo-kaap. It’s quiet, genteel, an ex–pat enclave, and supposedly Cape Town’s gay quarter, but you’d hardly know it. It’s rainbow-shaded eighteenth century cottages are a kaleidoscope of colour; they are also gated, barred and patrolled by … Continue reading A Tale Of Two Hoods: The Bo Kaap And The Waterkant.