A Wedding in Galle | Part 1

Sun House
The Sun House, Galle, New Year’s Day, 2020.

New Year’s Day, 2020

It was lunchtime, a Wednesday, and my shirt clung with sweat to my back, as I slid out of the tuk, grinning at Issy, who eased open the battered green and white door of The Sun House. We were marrying here in two days’ time, and were overdue a meeting with the venue’s manager, Rukman.

There are seven ground floor bedrooms at The Sun House, a main living area divided into two open plan rooms, a side cocktail bar next to the office, an expansive but simple kitchen, and then an eighth upstairs suite, which runs the length of the two living rooms below it.

Exploring these spaces – connected as they are by an outside courtyard, a tiered lawn running down to a small plunge pool, and a sleepy south facing terrace – is to explore one’s own sense of illusion and imagination. Sat afterwards, replete and surrounded by a century’s worth of books, in the pleasant cushioned recesses of one of the House’s regal green sofas is, in many ways, an event in itself.    Continue reading

This Morning’s Dawn

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This morning’s dawn on our bed-sheet
Glows as it did yesterday.
Summoning into consciousness
A mundane familiar –
Jumbled thoughts,
Whispered finger-tipped
Touches, stretched out limbs.
Nothing here lies
In deference to a higher code,
Nor to a haunting pandemonium.

Through our window yellow sunbeams taunt
And pierce translucent bowing fronds,
Blinking time into place.
In steeped Earl Grey,
A soothing balm – a Blessed relief! –
Nothing here pretends
Any difference need unfold,
Nor mask that which matters most
In each wondrous, sentimental stroke
Of this morning’s dawn.

Our Time

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The Sunhouse, Galle. January 3rd, 2020.

Our Time

In jasmine-drenched heat
She tilts to one side
Ever so slightly and catches me
Flush on the cheek
With a knowing smile.

Our toes inches apart
Fingers clasping strange fabrics,
And eighty pairs of eyes
Twinkle
In the fanned breeze.

Afterwards, as newlyweds
We walk together along the drive
Shrouded by a setting crimson orb
As tuk-tuk plumes
Spiral the ocean.

A bygone revelry in sepia form
These months now past,
These days before us stretched out
As lazy afternoon birdsong –
Our new paradigm unfolding.

My night out of Laos

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The Mekong River, Vientiane, 16th March 2020.

36 hours ago, after a day long workshop, and as part of a consultancy assignment for CARE in Laos, I had planned to visit my colleague and friend, Tanya, and her young family, for dinner. I’d a bottle of wine at the ready and Tanya was making chicken kiev. But it didn’t quite go to plan…

I always knew that taking a flight out of Vietnam, in these times of Covid-related travel restrictions, would be taking a calculated risk. However, this week I was to be headed to Laos – a neighbouring country with zero Covid cases reported, and I was in possession of the requisite existing Vietnam visa to get me back in.

So, my risk was indeed a well calculated one but, in truth, I was also too motivated to deliver the 3 day workshop for which I’d been hired to now cancel. My last occasion outside of Saigon on assignment was back in November.

I touched down in Laos on Sunday night and arrived at the office the following morning. The day came and went, a safety and security briefing, meeting the team, and preparing for the our time together. I took myself out that evening in Vientiane and enjoyed the fresh new surrounds.    Continue reading

Back on the road in Laos

With my nose pressed against the airplane window, I watched the sun drop down below grey candy floss clouds earlier this evening. As the turbulence pitched us up and down for a few brief moments, my toes twitched in their socks and the imposed face mask scratched at my cheek.

The fading golden disc of fiery heat closed inwards to a final, gasping dot of colour. I wanted it to come with me, to touch down on the tarmac two miles ahead, walk with me off the sky deck and onto the fusty, carpeted walkway into Vientiane’s arrivals terminal.

I could have pocketed that bright, baby orb of light, as it dwelt for five more seconds over the horizon skirting. But, instead, I blinked and it was gone.

Later, I was stood by the baggage carousel, checking the notes I needed to change at the counter nearby. There was a comforting familiarity in the metallic surfaces around me, the garish advertising and the random assortment of backpackers and silver haired tourists shuffling past.

Who was watching my sun now? I wondered.    Continue reading

Endoman

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Luang Prabang hills, December 2019

Endoman

Blown by the wind I lean in
To each next flailing stride,
Eyes creep up,
Take in the green ‘scape
Running on,
Breathing faster
Chest tightening
Bones cursing
A rhythmic shudder of coarse
Foot planting,
Legs, knees
Stretching up
Lifting higher,
Every sinew clenched,
Fighting for oxygen
With teeth grinding left and right,
Another 100 yards,
– A kilometer even –
Holding on, and holding
Just on,
Around the corner
Forest breeze surfs through my hair
And then, assured, then –
A gear change,
A release between
Then and now and why and how
Becoming stronger,
Fluid, perfectly fluid,
The strokes as if through water,
Over air,
Beyond pain and forward,
Forward, forward.

Midnight Calm

Treading softly
Turning the latch
An icy shaft blows in.
Outside, a crunch underfoot,
Peering into the silent blizzard
Effortlessly cascading
Beneath amber street-lamps,
A scene from a story of make believe form,
I pull my coat tighter,
Blinking into the snowflake tips
That prick my face,
And edge down the street.

A static coat of arms,
Frosted windows,
Tudor beams,
Parked cars entombed in snow –
Calm rings out as black clouds shift above.
If I listen hard enough I can hear the calm elsewhere –
The fluorescent entrance lights of the hospital
Behind me
Hiding the sleepy wards of old and young,
Lost in their dreams of tomorrow,
Silently walking with me
Feeling the life in their fingertips.
The nourishment of movement!

In the eerie quiet of this moment others
Lie ready
To ease out of life.
The brush of pillow on their cheek,
A final revelatory sensation
Diminishing ebb
Of pulse and current,
Minutes become seconds become darkness.
Inhabiting this new paradigm
I feel for my keys,
Their serrated edges temporarily
Escape me back to the confines of
My familiar.
I click the kettle switch and
Read each word of the last holiday postcard,
Holding onto the fridge corner to steady myself.

YOLO [in Singapore]

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Fresh faced and 0kms on our legs.

A very cold IPA is slipping down right now as I wait to board for Melbourne. The crowning of an indulgent adventure in Singapore this weekend with my running compadre, Mr Lars Grombach.

We came to tackle the Craze Ultra 55km night run. Neither of us had necessarily reached pique fitness in the preceding weeks (Lars, in fact, fractured a toe whilst playing football on the beach during my stag weekend 6 weeks back) however both of us were in fine mental fettle, and then increasingly delirious from touching down at Changi airport on Friday lunchtime and checking into our hotel (complete with McDonalds round the corner and 7/11 even closer) all the way up to our 5pm starting time yesterday.

We moved into full prep mode once we got to Singapore. No alcohol Friday night. Lots of carbs and protein. Movie. Sleeping tablets. Lie in. And then an enormous buffet breakfast yesterday morning before plenty of chill time, during which our eyes watered as we watched Eliud Kipchoge smash his sub-two hour marathon attempt.

As soon as Kipchoge was hugging his family and jumping up and down with the Vienna crowds, we were marching off to the start line, vaseline applied, energy gels packed and music playlists at the ready.

Our starting group number was 30 runners in all. A “local” race you could say – a status cemented in full as a young girl, taking our picture on her smart phone, handed out our pre race instructions: “just run straight, unless you see any signposts telling you otherwise”.    Continue reading