by Ian Cochrane | May 3, 2018 | Africa, Europe, Oceania, Utopia
Grandma was a short, stooped lady fond of telling stories in her Scottish brogue. In that blue, white and green MacDonald tartan pinny over a floral dress, she cooked up batches of potato scones, fried fruitcake and black pudding. No one in her family had seen...
by Ian Cochrane | Apr 18, 2018 | Europe
Broken walls topple, the last defenders with them. Canal bridges, city gates and the cathedral burn. Steel clashes with steel, horses’ hoofs pound stone roads and women drag screaming children, the old and infirm towards the hills and mountains. Columns...
by Ian Cochrane | Jun 15, 2015 | Europe
In the crowded hotel lobby, my daypack zipper sounds conspicuously loud. I poke a hand inside: a woollen vest, an apple and a light rain jacket – nothing more. I rummage about. Still nothing. Everyone looks when I tip the contents out. A single euro coin rolls across...
by Ian Cochrane | May 14, 2015 | Asia
The Tokyo bar is a circle, Teppanyaki hotel chefs in tall hats and shirtsleeves in the centre; their shiny cleavers deftly dealing with slabs of beef, cabbage, prawns and abalone.The air smells of garlic and warm vegetable oil. I sip a Sapporo, the man across the way...
by Ian Cochrane | Feb 8, 2015 | Americas, Europe
There’s a raspy laugh, parted purple lips, a toothy gap and shining silver orb perched on a pierced tongue. “French? Me?” Mascaraed eyes shine from an impossibly pallid face. “Like… God no.” There’s a slight lisp, the word...
