Rigby Taylor

After confirming the booking for the Sankturi monastery, Frankie had received detailed email instructions on how to get there. A direct flight from Sydney to Bagdogra, a taxi or shared jeep to Gangtok, and something similar from there to Lachung, where he’d been assured the locals would tell him how to find the path leading up to the monastery. Easy. Into a lightweight, faded blue, waterproof canvass satchel that could be slung over a shoulder so he wouldn’t look like a tourist in towns, or

Yes, it was very neat. And I hope it confirmed that I'm not a total misogynist.

Indeed - a world without trust would be a very bleak place. The trick is to make sure you can trust the people you trust.... We all trusted the banks, remember? And politicians, and the police, and your boss to pay you correctly, and the neighbours who then went and poisoned the ram that was getting into their paddock, and.... Oh dear - it does seem the world is a bleak place for very many people [sighs] I reckon if you can find one person to trust totally, then you'r ok.

You're right, Wesley - organisations that practise mind control and obedience will inevitably become just like JECHIS in order to hang onto power.

After the evening meal everyone sat on comfortable chairs in a large circle in the lounge, faces almost in shadow because Prudence had dimmed the lights to lessen feelings of embarrassment at revealing a bits of themselves. ‘I was a fat little girl,’ Columbine sighed, ‘bullied and abused at school and at home, which I left the day I turned sixteen. I decided to be strong, accept my fate and not be intimidated by the beautiful people. To celebrate my decision I bought a thong bikini and went

Ah! Timothy - at last - a man of faith! I hereby ordain you high priest of the Frankophilian Order of Innocent Believers. Your faith does you credit and I'm pretty sure it will be rewarded - somewhere - sometime.

Nest of vipers indeed - an apt simile. Prudence seems to sort of guess, but, true to her name, is acting prudently. Ah yes, Massimo - let's hope is isn't the quintessential con-man and is exactly what he seems.

Fortunately, Frankie also has no idea what - or he'd run a mile [that shows how old I am] I meant a kilometre. Yes Frankie is soon going to need all the calm introspection and monastic meditative peace of a Himalayan refuge.

A very fine tale of loss, fear, hopelessness and redemption. So beautiful the way Jack kissed away Gabriel's shame and hatred of his disfigurement, restoring his pride. Made me cry.

They parked with about fifty other cars in an unlit, weed-infested, partially sealed area next to the dull grey bulk of an old and decommissioned town-water reservoir. There were no lights or signs to indicate this wasn’t anything more than what it looked like. The elevated position provided a distant view of the city, and an unpleasantly close view of a Greyhound Track; lights blazing, loudspeakers blaring. Two scarred wooden doors about twenty metres apart had been fitted neatly into the side

Thanks, Gandalf the flea puce. Yes - suing would be almost normal today - thanks! - I'll use that idea in future. You will not be disappointed in almost-Tibet - but what is ganga? He's not going to the Ganges - I don't think.

Poor old van Dahl was a stupid vandal, too many personal problems to attract a guy like Frankie to whom nature is sacrosanct.

Yes, I agree it is a generational issue among our 'liberal-intellectual' peers in the so-called 'Western Democracies', however, I am assured by my runes that there are deep pockets of suspicion and prejudice among the wider populace. Humans can simultaneously hold two opposite opinions in their heads and believe both are true. A friend went to a doctor during the marriage debate and they talked about it - the doctor said every one should have equal rights, but he wouldn't let his young son be alone with a homosexual because... you never can be sure - can you? Religion still holds millions in thrall to their dogma, and many immigrants from non-western liberal democracies are definitely less than thrilled - voting a resounding 'NO' in Western Sydney. Meanwhile, I consider my sexuality to be no one's business and feel not the slightest urge to mention my preferences outside a guaranteed safe environment. But then I live in rural quasi-bible-belt Queensland. A friend from north Carolina assures me Naked Wrestling of the sort I describe, is popular in his area. It certainly is fun to participate in.

Massimo’s edited video about hares began with Frankie firing an arrow, zoomed in to a close-up of the dead hare to show the damage done by jaw traps, followed that with a couple of stock hare photos, the scrape, debarked saplings and a brief cooking lesson. It was amateurish - neither inspiring nor well made. Empirika said she needed accurate measurements to begin chipping away at blocks of sandstone, so she wrote numbers beside her drawings while Massimo, armed with callipers, ruler and tap

It;s funny about that, some Australians have the bizarre notion that they are frontiersmen, tough and manly, and the way to prove that is to fell a forest and plant a crop. We have encountered many on our searches for places to live in this wide brown [and getting browner] land, who say they love nature, then proceed to chop it all down. It seems that most Australians who live outside large towns and cities, see nature as the 'enemy' to be tamed. You like Empirika? Mmmmm... no accounting for taste. To me she seems a bit of a bully.

Thanks for being amused - All my stories start out as comedies but fall over at the first hurdle. Clearly you are an exceedingly attractive man if you can't shake off an admirer - it seems to me that the cold of Canada is well worth enduring for a lover of that tenacity! The point about Almost Tibet - if there is a point in anything we do, is that it will be [he innocently hopes] a totally different culture to that he is used to, filled with danger, adventure, romance and intrigue, and he sort of wonders about meditation that served him so well in Tasmania and why he's lost the art and hopes.... Ah! stop making me think about my heroes' reasons - he's twenty, doesn't need reasons - he's young and that's all he needs.... youth. Europe [including Scandinavia Timothy] - if he had even considered the idea - is the 'mother culture' of his upbringing so not yet interesting enough to visit. He thinks it'd be sort of like visiting a boring old great-aunt - not realising it's the most 'awake' place on earth - if not the only place that remains 'awake'..

This is a very sensible and rational outlook. I don't recall ever looking at things in this way before - it is very liberating. Thank you. I missed it on the first reading in my unseemly haste to justify myself - Sorry.

A niggling worry played with Frankie's thoughts as he drove. What would he do if Prudence hadn't disposed of the few million cells that had begun to organise themselves in her womb after their artistic insemination? He had no sentimental attachment to the microscopic bundle, and hoped she hadn't developed any. No child deserved Prudence for a mother, and he wasn’t ready to be a father. No child deserved to be thrust onto this earth, if it came to that. He took twenty deep breaths to avoid talkin

Thank you Bart! I'm pleased you like the names - they're fun to make up. I'm even more pleased you enjoyed the story and told me so - it's this sort of feedback that makes writing a pleasure. I hope you also enjoy the other stories as much. Rigby

It's banter, Canuk. You are far too nice to rant. I said I was Europhile - not you - although it is clear that you are. Like you I have travelled all over Europe, also from Vienna through Slovenia, and on to the middle east - hitchhiking, staying with locals, sleeping under bushes... I have admired the ancient buildings, churches and fortifications. I was referring to the mountainous wilderness areas still home to wolves and bears that I didn't see when in Slovenia. Europe, and France in particular, was where, living in Paris as a callow youth, I first felt so totally 'at home' I never wanted to leave. I adored everything, the culture, the architecture, the people, the open backed busses, the caped Agents de police, languages and all the different currencies... But it was 'old' Europe and surviving traditions that so entranced me - not the modernity - that's practically the same in every county. I agree that great works of art and architecture can be admired for themselves - the knowledge of the slavery required to build Pont du Gard didn't mitigate my delight in it. I was writing as a jaded old fool who resents the changes that have literally transformed the bits of Europe I was so in love with. So many patisseries, charcuteries, boulangeries, old shops and ways have been replaced by giant supermarkets... The freedoms we had, even during the Algerian troubles, that no longer exist in this age of fear of 'terrorism'. Frankie's opinions, and choice of how to extend himself, are not necessarily my opinions - he's a messenger expounding on certain human foibles that intrigue me. However, it is interesting to speculate on what Europe would look like today if there had been no colonies; if every country had remained more or less within their borders and traded honestly with each other.

Ah yes, I'd forgotten Eastern Europe - in my backpacking days they were no-go zones - we went to Hungary, Bulgaria and Yugoslavia, but it was not pleasant for visitors. Turkey was exciting, because we were among the first hitchhikers, but now - according to a friend who went recently - it's all packaged tours everywhere. If I was young now I'd love to visit the wilds of Slovenia.

In what way would a trip to Europe be enlightening - you are speaking to a total Europhile here - at least I was last century [gosh, that sounds a long time ago] Europe is a mess, awash with tourists, cleaned, sterilised, pasteurised, orderly [usually] and as Frankie now realises, all that grandeur, all those beautiful spaces, all that art and architecture was built on the utter misery of millions of slaves in all their conquered colonies that have been left to rot and their survivors forced to become refugees - unwelcome in the countries that enslaved their forefathers, raped their land and economy and left them destitute. [Ha! I'll bet that misanthropic view of Europe's charms cheered you up ] Yes, getting photographed was foolish. Frankie is in danger of his own developing hubris and needs to be more careful. Thanks for appreciating that line, I was brought up by a mother who had a 'wise' word for every occasion. As I gaze into my crystal ball, I see dark times ahead for young Frankie - so keep the handkerchief handy - for a bandage if nothing else.

Mmmmm... but he's not looking for fun - he wants excitement, a genuine challenge to his comfort; to have his resilience tested without the support of a concerned parent. He isn't naturally gregarious - his popularity among his peers is their response to his clever act - it is not reciprocated, so he is put off by the thought of joining hordes of young people all on their 'adventure of a life time' bussing or driving from hostel to hostel - must see monument or gallery to the next, lying on crowded beaches, trekking the alps with a zillion others and kept on a leash by a guide who's terrified of losing one. Europe in the 1960s could be exciting when hitchhiking, and sleeping rough was possible. But now? On my most recent visit I decided all changes have been for the worse.

Thank you Ancientrichard for those very kind words - I hope the rest of the tale lives up to it. Readers like you make writing a pleasure.

When the adrenalin surge triggered by the confrontation with Anne Thrope retreated, Frankie felt flabby—mentally and physically. He also missed having people his own age around to chat or swim or go for hikes with. Not that he'd ever got emotionally close to anyone at university apart from Laurent. A wild storm threw a tree across the path to the swimming hole. Refusing Sylvan’s offer of a chainsaw, Frankie set to work with axe and bowsaw and in four days it was reduced to a pile of logs rea