There is a bottle of 14-year old Oban waiting for me at Babalus Bar when I pitch up at the Crowne Plaza hotel, courtesy of the GM – Anthony. It’s a bonhomous Wednesday evening. Alice, the barlady, pours me …
The sun sits on Tim Odero’s scalp. Tim is balding. But then again he’s 42-years old, a husband and a father of two. Make that three. His first born was with a lady who relocated to the United States …
Last year I sat next to my dad’s cousin, Ross, at a funeral in shags. Genius of a man and a recovering alcoholic. He’s been clean almost eight years now. We were seated on the stoop of a house, …
It’s the motorbike you heard first; a Yamaha Super Tenere, 750 CC. Its thunderous roar filled every room of the unremarkable building we occupied at Wilson Airport. No matter how busy you were at your desk you wouldn’t pretend …
I choose Sarova Stanley’s Exchange Bar because it’s a Sunday and I want to drive into town and feel the absence of humanity, the open-armed parking slots and the absence of incessant blaring car-horns . Plus there is something …
