A dying tradition: the leg-rowers of Inle Lake

I’ve been struggling to write about my time in Burma. The magnitude of visiting this country continues to follow me. I dream of pagodas, I feel the delicate strands of silk when I wrap myself in scarves, and my taste buds dance when I indulge in tea leaf salad, the supply of pickled tea leaves I brought home rapidly dwindling. How can I do the people justice? Continue reading

Home?

I thought that relocating to a new city would have me posting a lot more. It’s sort of like travelling, only it’s not a foreign country, I speak the language, I’ve been here before, and I don’t have rose-coloured glasses. OK, so it’s not really like travelling, except that I was getting lost on my way to work for the first few days, and there are a lot of restaurants for me to slowly discover. Continue reading