Ode to Saigon

I weave between metallic shine
Of white hot hub cap, cyclo frame
And taxi bumper: brake, and pause,
Before gearing off again.

I know these roads, littered as they are
With street-vendor, conical hat and coffee stalls.
I know this city, its adrenalin glory
Bewitches travelling hoards who
Melt the sidewalks, daring to cross.

I know this city.
Am rooted here, breathing in
A now familiar pulse.
Sentimentally I am yours.
Energetically you are the calm and constant
Backdrop to my life.

Your ebb and flow at once collide
And soothe, and guide.  And hold me tight.

Before too long I’ll view you from afar,
Becoming me, indebted as I am to all you stand for.
For all you are.


June has, and continues to be, a month of travel for me…

It is also the month I will remember introducing Florence and Martha to Shel Silverstein, whose poetry is now recited daily by them both in mock recitals at bed-times!

With that in mind, and in the hope that one day they will read this self-indulgent journal, and remember Silverstein’s “Lazy Jane” verse (Flo’s current favourite) I hope they also like this one from Daddy.


The Travelling Bishops

Jubilee weekend, and we have been in Saigon for two recovery sleeps now, since arriving back from our trip to the UK on Thursday.

We left behind us some of the most glorious weather England has been drenched in for many months, as well as leaving a general maelstrom of children’s debris and overloaded dishwashers everywhere we went.

Ten different friends, family, and hotels helped host our fly-by visit, and although executed at break neck speed, it was all incredible fun and the memories will live on for a long time.  Thank you to everyone who helped make it so.

Never to be outdone in a game of “how hot is your balcony”, Saigon greeted us off our 16 hour flight last week with 35 degree rays, smouldering humidity, and hordes of commuters biking to work dressed as if there was a chill in the air. Continue reading