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Category: Down And Under

Down & Under Pt4 – Cricket ground coffee

Melman is Lebanese. If you like you can picture the animated, hypochondriac giraffe from Madagascar, but this Melman is short, dark and has no spots. Perhaps the only similarity is that like his cartoon namesake, he’s far from home and is no longer sure where home is, having moved around from America to Syria to […]

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Down & Under Pt3 – The Greek crisis

Four of us. Car share. Middle of nowhere. Until the large modern conference centre rises up out of the bush landscape we think we’ve missed a turn. It’s plush, air conditioned and has a swimming pool odour about it. We change into our uniforms for the day. Collarless shirts should make us look like the […]

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Down & under Pt2 – Get busy frying.

It’s come to this: I’m cleaning out deep fat fryers with a dish cloth and window cleaner spray. My supervisor is a small weasel of a man and as we talk we hold onto available surfaces for support as the floors are slippery with oil. I know George Orwell had to deal with things like […]

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Down & under Pt1 – Chefs just wanna have fun.

“Do I look like a cunt?” Head chefs can be bad tempered bastards with a prima donna streak a mile wide. Bernie was no exception. “Err No.” I reply. “Well then don’t insult me with piss-poor presentation. If Salmon was meant to have that much fuckin’ dill on it we’d call it dill with fuckin’ […]

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Down & under – Explanations and excuses

“Never apologise, never explain”. Or so they say…but I’m sorry, I feel that without a small introduction, what follows may read like the rantings of a man slowly going mad on the other side of the world. Actually maybe that’s a better title for this whole saga. Let me at least set the scene… I […]

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