Une Generation Perdue

The house on Gunnersbury Park was the first place I lived in London and it was one of the filthiest and most unfortunate grub holes in the whole city. For a start, it was much too small for purpose. There were over 25 bodies under that roof and we only had 8 rooms between us – and that’s not…

Giving life the runaround

Of all the tortures to which an otherwise sane person could willingly submit themselves, there are few activities I dread and despise more than jogging. Everything about this most sadistic of ventures fills me with equal measures of distain and revulsion. And yet, as soon as I arrive home from work, I waste no time in…

Don’t Grow Up

For the past few weeks, the weather in London has been –  what the Irish would describe as – “desperate.” Making my way to the work, a few soggy mornings ago, I caught glance of this shop front and despite the soaked and depressing concrete grays of the city at this time of year, it…

Travel Fatigue

The exact logistical requirements of a journey from my flat in London to my parents house in Ireland include a 2 hour bus ride, a 55 minute express train, an hour long flight (taken on a budget airline), a 30 minute airport bus transfer service followed by a three hour cross country train and finally…