Verbal Brand Consultant
and Advertising Copywriter

  • The Burma Campaign 2015 – 2016

    Tuesday, January 5th, 2016By annablog0 comment

    I arrived in Yangon on Christmas Eve to be met by Seema, Ian and Tristan’s housekeeper – a small person of few words who it would appear, spends most of her life locked in a cupboard, steam ironing. She escorted me by taxi back to the boys’ house, relieved me of my dirty bag and disappeared into the cupboard for a long session with her ironing board. What a relief to be in a…

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  • The last hoorah (and a big hooray for Bangkok)

    Sunday, December 27th, 2015By annablog0 comment

    My final night in India was spent at a typical airport hotel, ie overpriced but handy although I didn’t know how handy (under a kilometre away from the airport) until I’d been ripped off by the taxi driver to the tune of 200 rupees. ‘I could have bloody walked it’, I declared to my shameless driver as he parked up outside the glamorously-named Shangri-La Lodge.

    So, after five weeks in India, I’m leaving for…

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  • The Guns of Manipur

    Monday, December 21st, 2015By annablog0 comment

    On my final two days in Meglahaya, I went on a mini safari in Kaziranga National Park, home to the world’s only group of one-horned rhinos. Alongside me on my excursion I had a Bengali couple and their teenage son from Kolkata. Mr Kolkata only had two bottom teeth and belched in my face during dinner. Master Kolkata was studying statistics at University but hadn’t got the sense he was born with. When presented…

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  • Siliguri to Shillong

    Friday, December 18th, 2015By annablog0 comment

    If it’s Thursday, it must be Siliguri, a particularly grubby city whose populace seemed to converge on one long main road fringed by a myriad of market stalls, the road itself plyed by bicycle rickshaws, auto rickshaws, buses, motorbikes, lorries – and in the middle of all that, men carrying piles of bricks on their back, school kids, and some daft bint and her limping mother, all taking their lives in their hands in…

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  • The Good, the Bad, and the Downright Rude

    Wednesday, December 9th, 2015By annablog0 comment

    I left the Dracula Hotel (dark, scary, blood on the walls) in the sleepy village of Yuksom for the slightly less sleepy village of Tashiding. I was in a shared jeep with three young girls from Sheffield. They’d spent the last year mllking cows in New Zealand and were now on a world tour in an effort to find out what they wanted to do for the rest of their lives. ‘Girls’, I said….

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  • 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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