All posts filed under: Travelling


Travelling / Uncategorized

I wish I could start writing about Brussels all over again. I wonder whether I’d still have to explain that it was actually Mechelen we went to and never Brussels though we did have a golden afternoon in Brussels that ended on a high look-out – the city, framed by dirty baby-boy blue with pink stains in it, to our feet. Ashen but ready to rise as we walked back down into it. Also, I […]

an offering…

Portrait / Travelling

… of a poem that I wrote during my week in Scotland recently… my mother thinks my life is a going-round-in-circles barefeet on grass after a snowstorm I don’t feel the cold follow the bends the steps of the many before me between old stones worn smooth from pressure, friction and distance then brought up here by determined hands I imagine them large in the centre I find a stone with thin waves of sediments laid […]


Travelling / writing about blogging and blogging about writing

Not migration this time… In April I’ve travelled to a Creative Writing Retreat where we were invited to write a 100-word journal every morning. I’ve now followed the urge to re-read mine and found myself threading together bits of stories like those stones I found on a beach one day. Nowhere near as orderly… Two days of travel from London to the Isle of Iona: 3 trains, 2 ferries, 1 bus. Then 2 feet underneath the weight […]

on language & finding home


“Die Suche nach einer bewohnbaren Sprache in einem bewohnbaren Land”* The last time I travelled back from Germany to London – my Wahlheimat (which my dictionary translates with ‘adopted home’ but that doesn’t really convey that sense of warmth, choice and voluntariness of the German phrase) – was in late November, just over a week after the devastating attacks in Paris. I travelled with my friend Katharine; we had to change trains in Stuttgart and […]


Stories / Travelling

Two things came together like two rivers that merge, becoming one. Both things have a somewhat blurry start somewhere way back like those rivers that must have been streams before, and before that little trickles, and a breaking out of the underground at some distant beginning. One of the things was prompted by my friend who I first met when we both returned from having lived abroad – Madagascar in her case, Uganda in mine […]