When reading through travel diaries from twenty years ago leads to google searches for your long-forgotten travel companions; sometimes you come across disturbing information.

Diana and I shared a tent throughout our three month trek of Africa in 1996. We were instant besties. She was friendly, funny, adventurous, kind and level-headed, and took care of me in Zanzibar when I was so ill I barely knew my own name.* We caught up a few times in London on our return from Africa but then she went off travelling and I never heard from her again. Now I know why.

What a truly awful end for someone so full of life.







* Malaria, giardia, dysentary, bilharzia and severe dehydration. All at once. It wasn't pleasant. Thank god for Diana taking me to hospital, realising said hospital was a filthy cesspool of disease, and tracking down Dr Mario, the Italian doctor in Stonetown who loaded me so full of medication in his private clinic that I was able to continue our trek a couple of days later. I owed them both big time.

So. Many. Cockwombles. 

I don't even know where to start... except to say Adam Goodes is the best kind of person, while Shane Warne, Dermott Brereton, Jason Akermanis, et al, are the worst kind.

COCKWOMBLES. The three of them. 

I do feel like I'm the only one who actively contributes in our Virtual Classrooms for my Lit subject this trimester. Why bother 'attending' if you're not going to even answer the lecturer's questions? Puzzling.

You know what? If I have my office door almost completely closed and you can hear me typing away furiously, then you should probably assume that I'm a bit busy. Which means if you come barging in demanding I drop everything and pay attention to you without so much as an "excuse me - may I interrupt for a moment?", I'll probably be a bit snarky.

Al. Gore.

I do love my workplace.

(I also loved that I was a mere 6 rows from the front. Fangirling like a mofo.)

Note to self. If the weather looks like it might be a bit dodgy, then it will be, so dress accordingly. Also, wear a cap when going for a 6km walk. That way when it rains, your glasses won't get (as) wet.

Avoidance is my middle name.

(Too many demands on my time, too scared to tell people 'no')