For me, 2017 was about transitions and realignment. I saw in the year with a friend in the Netherlands, in the afterglow of suburban fireworks, rambling through Muiderslot and dredging through my previous year’s social media exhaust, with daytrips out to Utrecht and Rotterdam. At the end of January, my housemates and I moved to
Following the logic of spending all your money on decent matresses, sheets, socks, and underwear (as the things you spend most of your time with), this past week, I took the seamful break of an OS update to re-wallpaper my phone with a couple of memento mori for 2017. On the left, Mexican teenager Rubi
(A little late, sure, but … as is the custom in these parts.) For me, 2016 came in three distinct lumps, not easily reconciled. The first block ran from January through mid-April. Having seen in the new year from the roof of a Jaipur apartment block, I returned to Gujarat for a second round of
Set of photos from a six-day road trip round Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island with Deb Chachra, featuring ferries, loons, lobster, and tetrahedral kites.
Gallery of images from three weeks in the United States, May-June 2016.
2015 was by turns gruelling and nourishing, and I feel like I’m leaving it as a palpably different person to the man who saw in the year with housemates and boardgames. Slightly late to the party this year, but here’s a run-down of some lingering fragments and mnemonic burrs. (As is the tradition.) A collective decision to ban
I’ve been in the Gujarati city of Ahmedabad since January, laying some groundwork for my PhD research. With temperatures in the city hitting 43ºC (!) at the end of March, I was looking for some respite from the heat. Booking some flights to Uttarakhand, in India’s forested Northwest, I spent a week exploring Dehradun, Rajpur, and Mussoorie. With real estate
Ten days in Gujarat, four days in Geneva, a week in the Peak District, a week in the Lake District, four days in Linz. Nights in London, Newcastle, Lancaster, Liverpool, Sheffield. Uttarayan in Ahmedabad; a sky thick with kites, ablaze with Chinese lanterns. African tourists at the Adalaj stepwell. Drinking whisky on the roof of a friend’s
On Saturday 6th September, 2014, a stream of technology enthusiasts, science clubs, hackerspaces, and rogue makers gathered in the Brighton Dome’s Corn Exchange for the city’s 4th annual Mini Maker Faire; “a family-friendly showcase of invention, creativity and resourcefulness … a place where people show what they are making, and share what they are learning.”
The Túnel coach has been further delayed. Ducking into the public bus shelter in the hope of evading the all-permeating liquid mist, you jostle for space with a Swiss pensioner in a dated wearable, two identikit businessmen, a gaggle of furtive students, and a young African woman talking excitedly in heavily-accented Portuguese. Sliding through the