--- This post is adapted from a letter I wrote to a lovely man called Carl, who received my book A Rum Run Awry as a father’s day gift. When I came to write up the story for my blog, I realised that my letter to Carl was close to being the best summary I was capable of writing, so here it is. ---...
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Today is the day I fly to L.A. Waking up is a multi-tiered and painful process. It begins at some ungodly hour, when Vikki's alarm goes off. She is catching a very early train to Birmingham. By the time she has her lunch, I will be mid-air. In a plane, hopefully. I wake up again when Vikki...
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Cuba is one of those places. Like Iceland. Somewhere almost everybody wants to visit, but never does. Of course, going to Cuba is exactly as easy as going just about anywhere. You buy a plane ticket, get on a plane and - hey presto - you're in Cuba! And yes, it's exactly like you imagine it - and...
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We started our 2014 travels in Iceland. Land...of ice. And spectacle. It seems only fitting, therefore, that we end it in the total opposite part of the word. The Sahara. By camel. Obviously. Typically, we arrive in a storm. Bad weather follows us around the globe. It's a wind st...
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We break our fast on cakes. That is the Moroccan way. Pancakes, with a side of normal cake...and bread. All smothered in jam and honey. Add to that a steaming pot of coffee and another of mint tea, a yoghurt, a cup of pomegranate, cheese, and a gallon of freshly squeezed blood orange juice...and you...
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This week, I flew back to Copenhagen to finish my tattoo at the mighty Meatshop. The plan was for three more days of dotwork (two black and one colour), followed by a fourth day when Vikki would get her back-piece finished. I knew I was in for a rough few days. But exactly how rough...? I...
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Today, I am getting tattooed. I don't know the design yet. In fact, there isn't one. Thus, the Guild. I am also in Denmark, in a shop owned by my favourite tattoo artist: a man whose work Vikki and I found entirely independently when showing each other some of our favourite pieces whilst in ...
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Vikki and I spent this weekend in Belfast. Neither of us had been there before and, seeing as she had to be there on Monday morning for work anyway, it made sense to take the opportunity to check it out. Our flight, however, was at 07:00 from Manchester. We live in Sheffield. Needless to say, whe...
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As of this weekend, it has been six months since I met Vikki on Khaosan Road, Bangkok. To celebrate, we decided to spend the weekend in the Lake District. In a Romany Gypsy Caravan. Because...well it should be obvious, really. Frankly, the fact that most people don't spend most their time in gyps...
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It's January again; the time of year when everybody 'resolves' to do something life-changing. Normally, this is because a few days of summarising our annual news for friends and family forces us to acknowledge our own inactivity and apathy, which immediately disgusts us and makes us want to chang...
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After appearing on House Hunters International a few weeks ago, I have received lots of very kind messages from people who saw the show. This rocks! I can't express how grateful I am for the show of support; it's hard to stay convinced I'm doing anything worthwhile, so hearing that some peop...
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Everybody knows that we Guildsmen honour the Full Moon and, in return, are blessed with twice our normal strength beneath its glow (when it bothers coming out from behind the clouds). I am not a man prone to 'freaking', but when I discovered that January-2014's Full Moon (the Wolf Moon) lands exa...
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This week, the Guild struck out for the Lake District in search of a secret cave somewhere in the Langstrath Valley. Simon set out on Tuesday afternoon and picked me up in Sheffield. Even if we couldn't find the cave that day, we were hoping for a sneak peak into the valley when we arrived. Alas,...
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Seriously, fuck travelling by bus in Laos. It is 600km from Luang Prabang to Chiang Rai...and it has taken us 40 hours. FORTY HOURS!! That's long enough to build my own bus, find and extract my own oil for petrol AND drive to bloody Thailand! 40 hours. Most of which were spent thus: [galler...
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After some much-needed recovery time in Vang Vieng, we catch a morning minibus to Luang Prabang. Although it isn't a very long bus by our standards, it is probably one of the worst; the road to Luang Prabang is slow and winding to a nauseating extent. It is a mere 185km, but it takes us all day a...
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24 hours after eating our Happy Pizzas, we are still pretty stoned. 48 hours later, we still feel rather strange. The last 2 days have been hell. Who mixes weed and mushrooms?! As if thinking something is trying to kill you isn't bad enough, now you can see it too! To be fair, it probably doesn't...
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After an enjoyable but harrowing few days in Cambodia, the time came for us to move on. To help us get over the sights of the Killing Fields, we went out for a drink. Being us, this quickly turned into 15 drinks as we steadily worked our way through the entire cocktail menu. By the end of the...
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After our energetic day around Angkor Wat, we relaxed for the rest of our stay in Siem Reap. The following day we ate three cakes, drank lots of beer and did nothing more active than looking around the old market, where we purchased some trousers more suited to the Cambodian climate. This was the...
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Having spent three days in Bangkok, eating cakes, drinking bad cocktails and getting excellent massages, it was clear the time had come to venture elsewhere - lest this year's foray into South East Asia turn into nothing more than an implosion of hedonism. It was, therefore, with the perverted e...
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This weekend, effectively gate-crashing a romantic getaway for my good friend Sam Steak Davis and his delightful girlfriend Rosie, the Guild descended upon Pembroke in Wales with the intention of going deep water soloing. For the confused amoungst you; Deep-water soloing (DWS) is a form of solo roc...
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