I felt like a bit of me died with Dave Greenfield’s passing – my rebellious, non-conformist past, my youthful grasp for sex, drugs and rock n’ roll.
5:15 am on a dark and stormy Perth morning – I stagger out of bed into my training gear and into the blinding light of the living room, collapse into a chair and pick up my phone that has been on charge overnight.
I read the single WhatsApp message from my friend Rebecca back in the UK and my heart plummets with dread. “Oh no Ben – so sorry to hear about Dave Greenfield. Terrible news (sad face emoji) xx.” Horribly awake and panicky now I quickly tap in his name into Google and there’s the headline on the Rolling Stone website “Stranglers’ Keyboardist Dave Greenfield Dead at 71, After Coronavirus Battle.” Continue reading “Loss, Love and A Lime Tree”
Out into the big blue, all my feverish thoughts of imminent disaster and incompetence fell free of my mental propeller – here was freedom.
Ever since going out on my first charter fishing trip 15 years ago on a visit to Perth, I have harboured (uh-huh) a deeply held dream and yearning to be able to journey out on the ocean in a boat of my own and catch fish. Continue reading “Das Boot (The Boat)”
Most of the time, I feel like my sleeping and waking hours are spent in the dreamtime.
Moving from inner-city Manchester in the winter to suburban Perth in high summer was like staggering out of a dark, dank cave into dazzling sunlight – both figuratively and literally.
Continue reading “Move into the light”