October 2009

Time to update the list of things that are bloody marvellous about Blighty!

1/Crisps – Surely these are the best little wafers of heaven in the world? Can anyone anywhere beat the delight packaged into each and every Walkers Cheese and Onion crisps?

2/The BBC – Yay for Auntie! How brilliant to have the wonderfully eclectic (sometimes eccentric) BBC. The politics shows are dramatic and the dramas are political! I particularly like the weird and wonderful programming on Radio Two that means ‘Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree’ and ‘Sex on Fire’ can play in the same hour!  Read more... (294 words, estimated 1:11 mins reading time)

Time to update the list of things that are bloody marvellous about Blighty!1/Crisps - Surely these are the best little wafers of heaven in the world? Can anyone anywhere beat the delight packaged into each and every Walkers Cheese and Onion crisps?2/The BBC - Yay for Auntie! How brilliant to have the wonderfully eclectic ...

Why do our taste buds miss home the most?

I know it’s not just me. I know that other expats literally dribble at the thought of home cooking irrespective of whether they hail from India, or Hong Kong, South Africa, Botswana or New Zealand. I well remember as a kid when we returned from Fiji to live in NZ we missed the taste of fresh mangoes, and my Dad (bless him) imported a whole crate so we could pretend we were still in the tropics. One taste of the fruit (despite being fumigated to within an inch of its sell-by date), took me right back to the dusty dirt tracks of the Fijian hinterland. I remember too as a student going to Pacific Island get-togethers that featured taro (intestinal glue!), and my favourite curry and roti. All the sunshine of the Pacific inside, all the chilly Dunedin snow outside!  Read more... (791 words, estimated 3:10 mins reading time)

Why do our taste buds miss home the most? I know it’s not just me. I know that other expats literally dribble at the thought of home cooking irrespective of whether they hail from India, or Hong Kong, South Africa, Botswana or New Zealand. I well remember as a kid when we returned from ...

I didn’t think this day would come. I thought my passport was gone for good, but on Friday there was a knock at the door and there it was. My old friend. My old statement of legitimacy, my good old Kiwi passport with all the correct stamps. Its only taken NINE MONTHS (and over £10k!) to get it back endorsed with the re-issued visa. I heard on TV last night an illegal immigrant saying it cost £15k to get people-smuggled from Afghanistan into the UK. I wonder how long it took before he was working here (illegally). How many months of salary earnings did he lose whilst he was waiting to reside here legally? So why is the law so punitive for those who wish to do everything correctly?

I didn't think this day would come. I thought my passport was gone for good, but on Friday there was a knock at the door and there it was. My old friend. My old statement of legitimacy, my good old Kiwi passport with all the correct stamps. Its only taken NINE MONTHS (and over ...

In form, if not function, I’ve been an expat for as long as I can remember. You could almost argue that it is my natural state. I spent my early life living in Vatakoula, a gold mining community in the centre of Viti Levu, Fiji. Such was the multicultural nature of our community, I knew words of eight different languages before I was five. The second youngest of a gang of eight kids who hung around together I remember wonderful adventures. Crazy. Unfettered. We made our own fun in the days before PS3. We didn’t need to create our own reality in Little Big Planet, we just created huts in the cane fields, or in mango trees. We spied on naughty neighbours who visited the house of ill repute next door. We sat on fire ants’ nests, for the dare. Our bikes didn’t have brakes. It was a great life. Or at the very least, they are fantastic memories. We had adventures – house fires, intruders, miners’ strikes that turned ugly and required emergency helicopter evacuation, hurricanes, and bizarre tropical illnesses where all my hair fell out. Each month we had a turn at ‘Fiji tummy’ despite our regular ‘chocolate water baths’ doused in Dettol.  Read more... (646 words, estimated 2:35 mins reading time)

In form, if not function, I’ve been an expat for as long as I can remember. You could almost argue that it is my natural state. I spent my early life living in Vatakoula, a gold mining community in the centre of Viti Levu, Fiji. Such was the multicultural nature of our community, I ...