Verbal Brand Consultant
and Advertising Copywriter

  • The Day of the Jeep

    Wednesday, December 2nd, 2015By annablog0 comment

    On the way down to the jeep stand in Darjeeling from where I was going to depart for Sikkim, a man with no teeth asked me: ‘do you want to ride a horse?’. ‘Do I look like I want to ride a horse?’ I replied, gesturing to the huge pack on my back. When one is carrying two months’ worth of gear on one’s back: long johns, short johns, lady shoes, walking boots, knitwear,…

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  • A view of Everest with sausage fingers

    Wednesday, November 25th, 2015By annablog0 comment

    For anyone who likes a bit of a ramble, sausage fingers are a perennial problem. For those unfamiliar with the condition, it’s a swelling of the digits when on a big old walk. Now chipolatas in the Quantocks I’m pretty familiar with but when faced with Mount Everest, I obviously needed to upgrade to a Cumberland sausage; after all, I was 3,636m up on the Singalila Ridge. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s…

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  • If it’s Thursday, it must be Darjeeling

    Thursday, November 19th, 2015By annablog0 comment

    Twice yesterday I was accosted by men. At the New Market (which smelt of human excrement – not what you want when you’re looking for a juicy pear), I met a man who had once been to Birmingham and was now involved in condom distribution to the poor; that was when he wasn’t running a market stall selling cheap socks and undies. He took me to meet his brother who had a stall selling…

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  • Oh Calcutta – make way for the alien

    Tuesday, November 17th, 2015By annablog0 comment

    I thought the British loved a queue but in India queues are king. The immigration queue at the airport snaked all the way back to the plane practicall. We were greeted after a fashion by a diminutive floorwalker. He was supposed to sort us into groups. Who was a diplomat? Who had come in from West Africa and might be a bit loose in the bowel department? Who was a westerner with an e-tourist…

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  • Small beds and scatting

    Tuesday, April 9th, 2013By annablog5 comments

    I’ve been in the land of cheese and novelty dildos, a land where a man in a Paisley cotton frock and cardigan can get on a tram, put a plastic colander on his head and attract no attention whatsoever . This is Amsterdam – where anything goes and frequently does. On my first night I go to Drag Central to play Deal or No Deal in a bar. Noel Edmunds is played by a…

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  • You’re nicked

    Tuesday, February 26th, 2013By annablog0 comment

    It was a dirty night on the east side of Brighton. I’d been hanging in a bar with some Swedish chick and her pooch – a scraggy canine with a shot jaw. I’d not eaten so my gut was growling and something about the bar that night was fraying my nerves. Maybe it was the weird Asian guy in a duffel coat who kept pacing up and down in front of our table, eyeballing…

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  • Dancing with lesbians

    Monday, January 28th, 2013By annablog0 comment

    Step, step, cha cha cha, step, step, cha, cha, cha. Bear with; just practising my ballroom – for I have been dancing with lesbians. I didn’t mean to – it was an accident. H, who has a Gold Medal in Rumba (from the Gay Olympics in Vancouver) invited me along to see his ‘show dance’ at the Same Sex Ball. ‘Oh, I don’t mind if I do’, says I, thinking I’d be doing a…

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  • How not to behave in an art gallery

    Tuesday, January 8th, 2013By annablog0 comment

    Another curious idiosyncrasy about the Germans – they don’t like you going the ‘wrong’ way in an art gallery. Take my visit to the Brucke Museum in Berlin; on entering I’d assumed the gait of your typical museum flaneur, ie take a few tentative steps towards a painting, stop, adjust handbag, fold arms, cock head, hitch hip and purse lips in casual contemplation, then cross legs, lean perilously to one side and at the…

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