Curtain Call The sky is crying in beautiful Green Point; the adventure is almost at an end. I have enjoyed New York immensely. I have enjoyed it to the degree where I have compromised on my precious sleep, and my sinuses way heavy with the consequences. I thank all the people who made this possible. I thank Couchsurfing, not least because it bucks conventional scepticism. I don't know how I feel about returning to Britain. I am no longer sure whether it is a re...

Silence to a Caterwaul I woke up and my belly hurts. It hurts from all the ice water I consumed last night in an attempt to stop the re-enactment of Sunday's hangover. It hurts from the gymnastic troupe of butterflies that vaulted through my stomach as I took to the stage last night to sing in front of an NYC crowd in Little Italy. And it also aches a little for my own disappointment, though that could be my pride too. I swore that nothing on God's green earth ...

Farewell to the Mighty Maple I feel like I've been in Canada forever. I only arrived just over a month ago, but time hasn't slipped by as quickly as I expected. I almost feel relieved to be leaving, not because I hate the place, but because I have found myself becoming more and more drained of energy; the same drain I feel back in Hale Barns. It's partially my own fault. I really should have made more of an effort to get out of the cities, but it's so damn cold...

I, Rag Doll God, do I ache. My legs hurt; my elbows are sore; my fingers are tired; my neck muscles are strained; my ribs feel like they've taken yet another pounding; and my arse is numb. Yes, I have been snowboarding. My first time, actually, spent during a beautiful day on top of Mt Seymour, one of Vancouver's local slopes. For the past week, the city has been covered in a blanket of freezing fog, making the mountains the best places to be. Yesterday was no ...

Man Flu Both Mark and I are now in the firm and gungy clutches of that most terrible affliction to befall man, 'man flu'. 5 x more potent and at least 3.5 x more virulent than anything a woman has ever experienced, both of us have lost our voices and I am (though I expect Mark is also) hawking up plebs of green globules, the shade of which has not been witnessed since the wallpaper choices of 1970s interior decorators. Not 10 minutes ago we were communicating by...