the mango season is long in the tropics. every week they seem to get bigger and juicier. every night after dinner we cut one of them up and eat it for dessert. sometimes they are so good i can feel my saliva glands going haywire when i put a piece in my mouth. i know some people will call this heresy, but i think mexican mangoes are better than australian ones.
i’ve been fantasising about being able to sit down and eat a whole mango just by myself. today my dream came true. while i was out surfing brenda bought me a mango on a stick. it was just an amazing as i imagined it to be. maybe even better. so good, in fact, that i had to start french kissing it. there’s not such thing as shame when it comes to mangoes, especially if they are on a stick.