There’s lots of things to love about living in a country like Croatia. And one of my favourite things is printing. Yes, printing. No one likes to own a printer. They’re expensive and they die after about 45 minutes, and the cartridges never really work, and they are just in...
I saw that there was a hole in my bag, from shoving too many things in it. I must get that fixed.
My office moved locations this week and of course, as I must go where it goes, so did I. My 45 minute walk is now closer to an hour, through largely the same space and along the same roads, but where it differs it really does… differ. I still walk...
I popped into the pharmacy yesterday to get some cold and flu pills. “Hello,” I said, in Croatian. “I need something for a cold.” “What symptoms do you have?” asked the pharmacist, also in Croatian. I pointed to my nose, my eyes, my throat. The usual suspects, I thought. “Vitamins?”...
I love Australia, I do. I just spent four weeks there and some things are just so easy. Friendships and socialising, shopping on a Sunday, no cigarettes or smokers, an actual variety of excellent dinner options. But it’s also expensive. Bloody expensive. I’m working from home today, back in Zagreb,...
I learned this week that Croatia is in the top five alcohol consumers of Europe. The list looks like this: Truly, I’m surprised. C and I often talk about how rarely we see drunk people roaming the streets of Zagreb. It just doesn’t happen. As far as we can tell,...
It’s the time of year again when I walk down Ilica going “gosh it’s quiet, there aren’t any trams” and then realise that the Zagreb Marathon is on. I took a bunch of photos – most of which are shit because, as it says right there in my byline, I’m...
So one of the reasons I’m hanging out here in Europe is so I can work on my writing career. Ha! Career! Anyway, writing is tough and making money from writing is even tougher. Here, then, is a quick reflection on what I’ve learned, lost and succeeded at over the...
In Australia – I dunno, maybe this is a cliche – but in Australia men with physical jobs, say plumbers or builders or painters, will pack their Esky full of leftovers, sandwiches, soups and bring it in for their lunch. Mostly it’ll be last night’s dinner or whatever their partners...
And here I am, back at the Dolac, as though time had never passed. The weather is warmer than when we left, the sun is shining, people look less miserable as they stand about hawking their wares. The air of desperation that wearies you in winter is gone. Today they...
