Writer
You know those people you get in hostels who are by themselves and yet seem to be at the centre of everything? This guy seemed like that, firing off jokes to people who walked by or other people sitting around us, chatting amicably to the staff. Despite his age, he seemed to be in his element. He turned back to me and said, “well, are you gonna come and tell me about yourself or what?”
The other day, my friend invited me to talk on Student Radio Maastricht, the radio show he works on. The topic of the evening's discussion would be stories - what they are, how they've evolved, why they matter to us. I thought it was a great topic; I’ve always loved stories. When I was a... Continue Reading →
When I first started dish-washing at age 21 to fund my studies, I winced at the thought of coming into contact with all that half-chewed food, spilt mayonnaise and ashtray contents (it’s not just cigarette butts people put in there, let me tell you that). Then there were the obvious indignities of having a perpetually... Continue Reading →
I was flying home for Christmas. It was icy and windy in Leeds and the plane was getting thrown about so much that at one point we seemed to be approaching the runway side-on
Patrick Magee takes the floor looking more suited to lecturing on philosophy or English than blowing up buildings. Dressed in a dark brown blazer, black pants, a light grey shirt unbuttoned at the top and thin-rimmed spectacles, and walking with the help of a cane, Magee is in Maastricht to give a talk as part... Continue Reading →
Call me cynical, but I’m convinced that the people who work on trains and buses derive some sick pleasure from making people wait to board. I don’t know how many times I’ve stood on a platform with thirty other commuters, all of us glaring at a man in a reflective vest clutching a clipboard and... Continue Reading →
Did you know that on the autobahn, the German motorway, there’s technically no speed limit? There is an “advisory” speed limit of 130kph (around 80mph), but it seems that many people are happy to ignore it. Our car wobbles slightly as middle-aged men with Audis and a point to prove fizz past us. Makes me... Continue Reading →
I’m a terrible salesperson. The store manager would tell me that I gave up too easily, that every time the customer says no, that’s really just an invitation to keep asking, keep pushing. He told me to think of it like pulling a bird – his words, not mine. And here I thought ‘no’ meant no. Silly me.
September 2016 I had first come to Barcelona three years earlier as a tourist. I’d waited for two hours to get into La Sagrada Familia, done the obligatory walk up and down Las Ramblas, shuffled through Parc Guell with hordes of other sun-baked camera-wielders, and dropped by Camp Nou, home of FC Barcelona, for a... Continue Reading →
27.10.2018 My girlfriend, Emily, and I are barely two weeks into our six-week journey around Poland when our yearning for new and unique experiences, and the fact we have nowhere else to stay, brings us to a tiny village about one hour south of Wrocław that nobody — not even the locals — seems to have heard of. We... Continue Reading →
J.K. Rowling moved to Porto, married a Portuguese man and gave birth to a baby girl. When she wasn't working her job as an English teacher, she liked to sit in the Majestic Café and write stories. After her marriage broke down, she packed up and returned to England with her child. Her stint in... Continue Reading →
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