Moderation has never been my strong suit, so to avoid the slippery slope from one to six drinks, I’ve allowed my social life to wither and when I do go out I stick to abstinence
Pulling a cart loaded with bricks? Put on your blazer. Running with buckets of concrete? Only with a jacket. Repairing a broken down bus on the side of the road? Make sure you’re wearing a collar
Our act includes getting people to do traditional American barn dancing with us. To my suprise, people gamely navigated the narrow rice paddies and tethered bovines to join in
Things are going uncharacteristically well in comparison to the rest of the trip, until around twelve hundred hours, when our plan unfurls itself like a runaway toilet roll
Back home in Europe the pace of change is so snail-like that you barely notice it happening. Not so in Beijing. The rapid pace of development keeps you on your toes.
The realization that some malignant force is brewing comes late one night when I accidentally knock a pair of once-black shoes off the rack to find them a new shade of dusty green