I’m sorry. I’ve been lame. I’ve been distracted by Vivienne Westwood, the deli counter at Sainsbury’s, trying to buy credit on a pay as you go phone and driving to Norfolk and back. In the last week I have: Bought a 300 pound dress I can no longer fit into Eaten too much so now …
I worry about more stuff here. I stress more about silly inconsequential things. I have to think more – What time train? What shoes? Umbrella? Where’s my oyster card? Can I really afford this second Frappacino? Who are all these people in Heat? Why are they still doing up the same escalator on the Victoria …
Bird song Cool air South east accents (lots of fucking this fucking that) Pints of beer Kettle chips Roast lamb Strawberries and raspberries Croquet Beer bellies Bad fashion (I’m in the provinces) It’s light still at 7pm! Aggression Wine wine wine Goat’s cheese An English country garden complete with roses and um, I don’t know …
I never was very good at having girl friends. I had an older brother, was more of a tomboy, hated my all girls’ school, am a Sagittarius…for whatever reason I made my way into my twenties with just a handful of girl friends to show for twenty years of living. In my twenties I did …
Everywhere we go we are watched. I feel furtive. As if a hand is about to fall on my shoulder and ask me please to come this way. I feel as if I’ve got a piece of priceless art stashed in my bikini (some might say I do, but you know I like to be …
John asked me. No, I told him I would. Let’s get this straight. I offered. Because, given that we’ve run though my book advance as though it was on a self-destruct timer, we’re now living off him. And I’ve never lived off any man (other than my dad…thanks dad!). John paying for stuff – as …
‘So Pooja,’ I say, ‘I’ve been really good. I’ve only had a banana smoothie this morning.’ Pooja looks at me confused. ‘Are we starting our juice fast today?’ she asks. ‘Yes,’ I say, ‘though I am bloody starving and it is only 9.30 am.’ ‘Hmm,’ Pooja says. I look at the plate by her side …
Here’s the cliff notes version of the last four days… Singapore airport ‘I’d like to check in for my flight to Bali please.’ ‘Sorry your daughter’s passport is three days under the six months validity required to enter Indonesia.’ ‘You’re kidding right? Kidding yes? Right?’ ‘No, sorry ma’am. Please step away from the counter.’ On …
For those of you who’ve followed us since the beginning you’ll remember that our reasons for leaving the UK were numerous. We wrote these reasons on post-its and stuck them on the wall of our bedroom in south east London before we decided to up stix and get the hell out of dodge. The reasons …
When we were travelling, moving around every few days or weeks, Alula started displaying worrying behaviour traits. Every time we would arrive in a new hotel or guest house she’d gather up a random assortment of belongings – her toys, hairbrushes, shells, books, her tutu, her Barbies – and place them all in a carrier …
canwelivehere.com 