“My mirror spoke to me. It said: ‘Man, women gonna fall at your feet’. In my uniform of blue-from the left, from the right, from behind-I looked like a god. And this uniform did not even fit me so well. But what is a little bagging on the waist and tightness under the arm when you are a gallant member of the British Royal Airforce? Put several thousand Jamaican men in uniform, coop them up while, Grand Old Duke of York Style, you march them to the top of the hill and then back down again, and they will think of nothing but women. But not this group I travelled with to America. Not Hubert, not Fulton, not James, not even me. Because every last one of us was too preoccupied with food. The only flesh we conjured was the sort you chewed and swallowed.”
Andrea Levy, “Small Island”, 2003.
A Bird's Eye View of Fashion, Food, Travel, Culture, Beverage and Curiosity 