My room in Vietnam
I have a wonderful room at the top of a house in a Saigon suburb. I always stay here - it was purpose-built for us by my sister-in-law, and it is a wonderful museum of the various stages o f my life. Filled with a collection of books brought t ogether either by careful selection (only choosing the best books to weigh down my luggage) and desperate necessity (whatever was discovered in the few second hand bookstores in Vietnam).
There is also a cupboard full of clothes that no longer fit me, in a variety of styles - all kept in the hope that one day I will return miraculously svelte.
I haven't had much of a hand in decoration, though - as you can see.
The blue polyester curtains are quite the rage around here at the moment, and the rest of the furniture and fittings are a collection of things discarded from other rooms about the house.
And outside is the world's tiniest balcony. You used to be able to enter the room from there, but now it is isolated after various renovations, and now it only offers 'street glimpses' and, if you lean out and squint, the front rooms of the brothel next door.