Tag Archives: travel

And we’re done for the year

And so it’s farewell to yet another year. Compared to the crazy body punching blows of 2014 that left me broken in several small pieces and on a granola obsession, this year has been much more stable, with a few gigantic waves thrown in to keep me on my toes. Or to knock me onto my substantial big brown ass but not enough to break me. Thank GOODNESS for that.

I started this year very unemployed and on the hunt for a job and in April, I won a competitive pitch against 20 agencies/freelancers for a project which was a great confidence boost. But that was only a few days work over a few months so I also had the opportunity to work with some super clever agencies and individuals who made me fall in love with PR again (well, a bit, I’m far too cynical to drink the KoolAid and completely lose my mind!) I’m ending this year working with a fantastic team on a longer term project so that’ll hopefully keep the wolves from the door and get me back on a much more even work-life keel. (Sorry about all the maritime analogies, I think I want to be on a beach).

Speaking of beaches, I started the year, in the midst of my unemployment, in Goa with my darling wino (because there ain’t nuffink like celebrating unemployment with a huge holiday) and then over the next 12 months, we also went to Istanbul, Berlin and had a big gay weekend in Suffolk. All told, a much smaller year of travel than previous ones, but I blame that on my work shy foppishness. Goa was incredible, met some wonderful new friends, explored a beautiful part of the world and now I’m wondering where I can go in 2016. I want to end the year in Australia but I can definitely feel a weekend in New York to catch up with my buddies on the cards and possibly somewhere a bit Scandi.  But that sounds a bit like a resolution and I’m loathe to set myself up for failure before the year’s even started.

Sunset at Mandrem

We also contemplated becoming supperclubbers in 2015 but trying to hold down a 9-5 and then cooking for 15-20 people on a regular basis sent me into freefall a bit so we had one awesome trial run with friends and family and then just carried on as normal.  Maybe we’ll do it again in 2016? I’ve been told that we’re hosting the family for Christmas next year (which is possibly about 30 people) so that may inspire me to finally get the kitchen updated. Doubt it though, I’m quite lazy and scared of commitment (and also, we may run away to Oz so we don’t have to do it…)

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We’ve had an interesting year with our cat, Doris. She was bullied by another cat who was sneaking in the catflap and eating her food so decided to let us know about her unhappiness by peeing on our bed. Delightful. Put an end to that madness through lots of loving but she’s ended the year pooping in the lounge. Not sure what’s wrong with her, think she’s just insane but that was definitely one present I didn’t want to find under the tree.

Doris
Before she started to leave us poopy presents all over the house

The wino has continued to put up with my madness as well as mad times at his business but that’s his story to tell so I’ll not go into details. He’s a good, if annoying, man who I wouldn’t replace for all the tea in China. Possibly for all the chocolate in the world but not tea.

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I turned 40 too this year, which I celebrated over three weeks and loved every minute of it, so much that I may be 40 again next year – gird your livers, chums.

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And on top of all that, I went to a gin festival, I ate at some incredible restaurants, I spent a lot of QT with gorgeous people who inspire me and make me laugh till I want to pee (I am 40 after all), I baked a LOT and this year was just lovely. Apart from the four failed Amazon deliveries that have made me realise that Amazon Prime is not worth the money it costs and that their drivers are more than a little bit racist. But that’s a conversation to have with their press office rather than bitching here – unless I don’t hear back from them, in which case, bring on the bitching.

So onto 2016 – I’m in employment, I have a roof over my head, I have more shoes than a girl could ever possibly need and a lovely man by my side. If 2015 was about getting back together (after 2014 decided to break me down), I think 2016 is about bringing joy back. Which mostly means spending time with those reprobates who are my dearest framily, experiencing new places and eating lots of food. Those aren’t resolutions by the way, that’s just good sense. Oh, and I’ve got a flying lesson and a Segway experience and a cake decorating class to do that I’m hugely excited about (god bless birthday present experiences!) Thanks to those of you who have listened to my ramblings over the last 12 months, I may post more regularly over the next 12 but don’t hold me to it, I’d hate to let you down. Here’s to a 2016 that’s filled with joy for all of you too.

 

 

Recapping November… and Monkey(bread)ing around

Blimey, what a month. As I mentioned, briefly, in passing (ALL THE TIME) I turned 40 in November and as that’s apparently quite the milestone, I decided to drag out the celebrations for the better part of the month.

The actual day, my wino and I went to breakfast at the Delaunay (amazing), saw Ai Weiwei at the Royal Academy which moved me to tears in parts, utterly emotional and beautiful and then had a mildly crappy afternoon tea because we’re old and needed a sugar hit. And then dinner with my family that evening which was also simply super (although mediocre food, didn’t expect much more from the local curry house).

My birthday gift from the husband was a trip to Berlin so we went the following weekend and stuffed our faces with German cakes and weinerschnitzel and saurkraut and stuff. Had the best time at the Photography Museum at the Frank Horvat exhib, love his stuff and went to a few other galleries and mostly just pootled around the city really. Don’t go to the zoo, it’s absolutely horrible and I totally cried at the sad lions and camels. Tinged a little bit with sadness – an old friend moved there  a few years ago and I was hoping to catch up with him and his partner but wasn’t to be the case as his partner sadly lost his battle with cancer the week before we arrived. Nic’s been bravely and beautifully blogging at his struggles with dealing with his loss here – please go read it, it’s an honest, heart wrenching and sad read (love you Nic).

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Then back to London town, to start a new job (which is awesome and huge and I think may keep me away from blogging for a bit just whilst I get my head into it) and to celebrate with a bunch of my very best family and friends.

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We’d booked out lunch at one of our favourite restaurants in Queen’s Park – the lovely Caldo. It’s a tapas place and wine bar (and my husband does some of the list so he knows them well). Sorted out a set menu and awaited the hoards to arrive – and boy did they. There were friends from all aspects of my life – school, university, work, drinking in bars, family friends, family members, all told I haven’t felt so loved since probably my wedding day. I always think it’s amazing that some of those people have been in my life for the whole of it, the experiences we’ve shared together could fill books.  It was a lovely day, there were shots done, a cake by a baker (Fondant Fox) whose creations I’d been drooling over on Instagram for a while and whilst her cakes clearly look amazing, they also TASTE amazing, which is possibly the most important thing. And then there was the afterparty. And from that I don’t remember much, but I do know that my fridge was stuffed full of fizz, a tequila station was set up in the kitchen and I had enough Doritos to feed 500 peple before we went to lunch but the next morning the fridge was empty and there were Doritos all over the floor. Lord knows what happened to the tequila. Never saw the bottle again, think it ran away. Took me the better part of a week to recover – won’t be doing that again for a while… Although I tried, the following weekend when my GBFF treated me to an amazing Twin Peaks themed dinner/immersive theatre thing (which I’ll blog separately), I had to follow a bus and a Spice Girl around in a pee yellow car for a day and I have been hanging out with X Factor stars. All told, November has been quite spectacularly full on and, frankly, awesome.

Last weekend was the first weekend we’d had at home since October and the last till Christmas so I decided to get baking – and I’ve been wanting to make Monkeybread for quite some time. For those of you who don’t know, Monkeybread is (probably) an American thing, it’s effectively enriched, sweet dough balls, rolled in cinnamon, sugar and butter and baked. What on earth about that is not to like? I’ve been avoiding my bundt tin since last Christmas when I didn’t grease it enough and an impressive cake I should have made (spiced cranberry) got stuck in it so I had to slice it to take to a party. Not ideal. So I decided to bundt the shit out of my monkeybread to break the fear. And I’m glad I did. It looked GREAT and tasted even better.

Couple of changes I made to the recipe. I have a sweet tooth but I don’t think it compares to most American recipes I’ve seen – sometimes even I get unnerved by the levels of sweetness in a recipe. So I decided to use a traditional white bread dough to make the monkeybread and hope that the sweetness of the cinnamon, sugar, butter would be enough – and it most definitely was. If you do want to go all out, a brioche style bread would probably work quite well – I had no milk in the house so couldn’t do that. Next time, I’m going to experiment with savoury flavours -I think herbed bread and cheese would be amazing. But here’s my recipe, enjoy!

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Monkeybread 

For the dough:

  • 400g strong white bread flour (plus more for dusting)
  • 1 tsp fast acting yeast
  • 1 tsp fine salt
  • 300ml warm water
  • Oil for kneading

For the cinnamon sugar

  • 100g butter melted and slightly cooled
  • 200g light muscovado sugar
  • 2 tsp ground cinnamon
  • 1 tsp ginger
  • 1 tsp mixed spice
  • Pinch of salt

Put the flour into a bowl and add the salt and yeast, making sure these two ingredients don’t touch. Add the warm water and bring the dough together to a sticky shaggy mess. Scrape any dough from your fingers and then cover the bowl and leave in a warm place for 30 mins. After that time, turn the dough onto a lightly oiled and dusted board, and knead. Use whatever method you’re most comfortable with – I use Dan Lepard’s, it’s easy to follow and usually comes out with a great bread. Knead for about 5 mins, return to the bowl, leave covered for 15 mins, then repeat this process twice more.

After the last knead, put the oven on a low-medium heat (around gas mark 4 or 170C) to preheat and make your cinnamon sugar – simply mix the sugar and spices and salt together in a bowl. Grease a 25cm bundt tin.

Turn the dough out onto a board and start rolling small dough balls – you want to get at least 30 small balls (golf ball sized). Dip and roll each ball into the melted butter and then dust them in the bowl of spiced sugar and then placed them into the bundt tin. 30 balls comes up about half way up the tin – don’t worry about this, once all the sugar coated balls are in you need to leave it for its final prove so it’ll fill up.

The final prove takes around 30-45 mins (the doughballs should spring back when you poke them!), then put the tin into the oven to bake for one  hour.

Let the monkeybread cool in the tin for 15 mins, then turn it onto a serving platter and give the base of the tin a good whack, it’ll release and leave it ready for serving. It’s a lovely indulgent breakfast cake but equally good when still warm with ice cream. Enjoy!

 

 

Lovely Loutolim and Casa Susegad

I’ve mentioned it a few times but it deserves a post all of its very own so here’s week two in Goa and our stay at Casa Susegad. 

The entrance to Casa Susegad

Beautiful ornate entry

The wino and I require very different things from our holidays – whilst he’s happy to lie on a beach or by a pool for a solid fourteen days, moving only to dip in the pool or go to sleep, I get a little bored of this after… well, usually a good 12 hours. So we agreed that week one would be beachside and week two would encompass a little more culture. What I hadn’t put into this equation was how much Goa would make me into a gigantic beach bum and as such, I was quite happy to sleep and hang out on the beach and not do much else.

We’d booked our week at Casa Susegad based on the lovely i-escape review and amazing Trip Advisor comments and thought it would give us a different pace of life from Jamboree Creek and Mandrem.

And that it did. We got a car from Mandrem to Loutolim – it’s about an hour and a half away but the vibe couldn’t be more different. It’s in a little village where there’s nothing apart from monkeys in trees and a Friday market. When you’ve been in a place where it was rare to see an Indian face and even rarer to see anyone over the age of 40, it was nice to be somewhere that felt more removed from the tourist trail.

You’re greeted by lots of dogs (and Carol and Norman, the owners) and whilst I won’t pretend to remember all their names, my two favourites (ie the ones who paid me the most attention) were Basil and Lisa – just lovely friendly dogs that hung out with the guests all day long. Don’t fall for their food begging though!

The balcao

There are only five rooms at Casa Susegad but the house itself is palatial. All the rooms are situated around the pool, with the bar close by too. We were in the pink quartz room – and very pink it was as you can see below. The floor tiles were gorgeous too – discovered when the work was being done to the house and left in their original state. Loved them.


The terrace Glorious floor Pink room

Next door to our room were the turquoise room and the sunshine room. Norman and Carol live in private quarters in the main part of the house and in the opposite wing is a full size snooker table and a large dining room, as well as a lounge where you can escape the heat and read or watch TV. We shared a terrace with our turquoise neighbours and got to know them really well – fabulous fellas.

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Having spent most of the previous week just speaking to the wino, it took a couple of hours to get used to the openness at Casa Susegad – because the rooms surround the pool, you get used to speaking to your neighbours and having drinks with them and then sitting around the dining table to eat with them. And we loved this – it was so friendly, the owners are delightful and had old friends staying (who I mentioned before) so it felt very much like you were staying with friends. I wonder if I can say ‘friend’ another time in this sentence? Terrible grammar!

The pool is bordered by jungle – literally. You can see all manner of beautiful birds and families of monkeys jump across the roof to steal figs from the tree in the front garden. I’m sure there are creepy crawlies and snakes in them there woods but we didn’t see anything so I’m going to pretend they weren’t there. Oh, apart from a flying beetle that was the size of a small bird. That wasn’t terrifying at all.

The pool

Dinners at Casa Susegad are full three course affairs, with food whims taken in the morning and cooked up by Joanita to please all the guests. Admittedly, we hadn’t realised how little there was to do in Loutolim so whilst the meals are lovely and worth every penny, it’s best to budget as though you’re going to eat there every night as there aren’t many nearby places to enjoy a more cost effective meal. It’s great sitting around the gigantic dinner table, getting to know your fellow guests and shooting the breeze. Dinners can either be served on your terrace or in the main dining room – we mostly opted for the terrace it was slightly less formal but both are lovely experiences.

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Norman and Carole know the region really well so can happily help you plan days out and arrange drivers and recommend places to eat. With our turquoise room neighbours, we went to Margao for a day of exploring including a fantastic lunch at Longuhino’s. And as previously mentioned, Helen took me out for a day to Panjim which included lunch at Hotel Vineet, the home of the Goan revolution. The nearest beach is 20 mins drive away and worth it for a day out, it’s beautiful and the food at Zeebops is amazing.

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I’d happily go back to Casa Susegad – it’s a great location for chilling out, reading by the pool and enjoying some delicious cocktails and dinners. The staff are super friendly and on hand to help with anything you need. It’s also a small hop skip and a jump to the airport so even if you don’t want to spend a whole week in the jungle village, consider spending a couple of nights there before you fly, it’ll leave you feeling ever so zen. Particularly if you indulge in one of the massages, so very good.

And that’s my last Goa post. Sorry for being so indulgent but there was so much to share. Cannot wait for our next trip!

Private beaches and hammocks by the pool…

In the week we’ve been home, it’s snowed and I have been struck down with a terrible virus from which I may never recover. Well, OK, I’ve got flu and I’ll be fine in a couple of days I’m sure but right now I’m feeling utterly sorry for myself and the warm sandy beaches of Goa seem like a lifetime ago.

I’m hoping, however, that writing about it and looking over photos will bring back the warmth to my bones and a song in my heart. Or at least help stop the runny nose for a few minutes

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Because I love a good chronological timeline, I’m going to start with week one in North Goa.

The thing with Goa is that you can spend a lifetime looking at hotels on TripAdvisor and Hotels.com and i-escape and everywhere else and you can never be sure what you’re going to get. There’s a lot of truly awful looking places and lots of truly amazing looking places and a huge amount of places in between. So I set parameters…

  1. We’re not teenagers so Anjuna and the clubbing bits of Goa were no go(a)
  2. I wanted air conditioning (because I’m a big wimp)
  3. Marcel wanted a pool AND proximity to a beach (because he’s demanding)
  4. A maximum of one 1-star and two 2-star reviews on Trip Advisor (the three, four, five star reviews could be as many as possible)

So we looked. The hotel I loved the most was way out of budget.Turns out Brangelina stayed there. We are not Brangelina.

From there it was a hop, skip and a jump to Instagram to see if there were other nice places near Elsewhere. I searched for Mandrem + Pool and found two places that fit our needs – Lazy Dog and Jamboree Creek. And to be honest, because Jamboree Creek responded first, we booked it. And I’m so very glad we did.

The entrance to Jamboree CreekOur hut

Close up of outdoor shower

Jamboree Creek is equidistance between Ashvem and Mandrem beaches but far enough removed that you’re not disturbed by clubbing and traffic and other people. The hotel is made up of 11 thatched beach huts with incredible outdoor showers and cute little terraces. The rooms are basic but clean – don’t book here if you’re looking for ultimate luxury (for that, book Elsewhere and tell me how it is!) The creek is right at the end of the property, just past the pool. Turns out creeks are tidal (I’m guessing cleverer people than me already knew that) so whilst it’s interesting when the tide is out, it’s stunning when the tide is in – you can watch birds and fish and butterflies and all sorts of nature just being all nature-y and stuff (I’m not particularly outdoorsy, can you tell?)

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There are hammocks and cushioned benches by the pool so you can while away hours, sipping on a hibiscus juice from the organic garden. So we did that a lot for our first couple of days, then we went to the beach.

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Jamboree Creek shares a bridge to a private beach with Elsewhere so rather than having to negotiate busy roads and other people (ugh) we could walk to the bridge, cross the creek and arrive at a beautiful, quiet stretch of beach all to ourselves.

The beautiful bridge to the private beach Boats

We headed to Ashvem on our first trip which was a bit of a culture shock – banging techno or terrible trance which gave me significant flashbacks to my clubbing youth and had to leave after a very mediocre lunch (I’m not going to give up eating opportunities).

On our next visit to the beach, we headed right up towards Mandrem and this was a much more pleasant experience – we’d been recommended traditional Goan food at a beach shack called End of the World and whilst it didn’t end up being the best food we ate, it was definitely the best we’d eaten at that stage. I’ll do a whole separate post on the food in Goa because the thing we discovered is that food in Goa can be very hit and miss but when it’s good, it’s fantastic.

Sunset at Mandrem

This bridge was my nemesis. In that I fell off it into waist height water. It didn't come after me and try to kill me.
This bridge was my nemesis. In that I fell off it into waist height water. It didn’t come after me and try to kill me.

This was only the second season for Jamboree Creek but Priyanka (the owner who is only 25) and Vishnu (the manager) were both so incredibly helpful and good that it felt much more established. Couple of tiny niggles. It’s a lovely little boutique experience so we would have liked to see a menu that reflected that. Whilst the food was absolutely fine at Jamboree Creek, it would have been nice to see a little more flexibility, variety and local dishes – Russian salads are quite boring after a while. Our room had a TV and a four poster bed. Both great, but realised that when you lie back in bed, unless you’re both in the top most right hand corner, you can’t see the screen! But that’s about it – if you’re not a nature lover, you are very close to it (in that we had a lizard in our sink and a frog in our toilet on separate occasions) so it may not be the place for you. I am truly terrible with nature and insects and this was all fine for me.

Tiny frog in toilet Sink lizard

If you’re looking for a place that’s a little off the beaten track, with great service, a lovely pool and proximity to one of the most beautiful beaches in the world (probably), then go here. I’d happily go back. Please, someone, send me back. Now. Please?

Us

Introducing Goa

Given the year of monstrosities that was 2014, we decided that we needed to start 2015 with a bang – and so we agreed to escape grey January in London and head to sunnier climes. Initially we were talking about taking a month off, heading on a tour of the southern hemisphere, ending with being hobbits in NZ, but then reality kicked in and responsibilities reared their ugly heads so we agreed upon a 15 night tour of Goa. I know, hardship, right?

I’ve been to India a few times before – when I was a kid, we did the Delhi-Agra-Jaipur tour, my cousin lived in Bangalore for a bit, we’ve family and friends in Chennai (Madras) and I had a fantastic girls holiday to Kerala in 2007 (despite the gigantic cockroach inside my mosquito net on the first night that made me want to run back home screaming). We wanted heat, we wanted a chill out and so, making like we’re crusty hippies in the early 90s, we packed our backpacks with our finest tie dye (read: matching suitcases filled with subtle shades of white and grey linens) and off we went.

So, Goa. According to many people, it’s well past it’s heyday of the 1960s and the 1990s put paid to any semblance of culture, with dirty beaches and angry locals and bad tourists. And whilst I’m sure parts of Goa are like that, I literally spent weeks before departure researching where to go, where to stay, what to do and, most importantly, where to eat so we loved every bleeding minute of it (even the bit when we had a row in our less than soundproof hut in our first location that ended with the wino sleeping on a hammock by the pool! Again, poor us, fights in hotels, hammocks by pools. Tough break.)

The one thing I didn’t do, was really think about were the stopovers in Mumbai (on the way there) and Delhi (on the way back). Bejesus, hanging out in an airport for 8 hours (Mumbai) and 11 hours (Delhi) can really make you lose your will to live. Particularly if every time you try and walk outside to get some fresh air, there’s a machine gun armed security guard checking your tickets and passport.On the way back home through Delhi airport, we had to go through 12 different security checks before we got on the plane, from the entry into departures to actual boarding. And queues. So. Many. Queues. And Indians have a very different queuing sensibility to Brits.

That’s all I’m going to say about that. Although it’s probably worth noting that I did put on my best 1950s teacher voice on many occasions to explain ‘THE QUEUE STARTS HERE YOU KNOW’. Which I’m sure was hugely appreciated.

We’d planned a two location tour, the first week between Ashvem and Mandrem on our own private beach (sort of) and then our second week was slightly further inland and south in Loutolim.

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Overall, we loved our Indian experience. If you’re going, ignore all the haterz (innit) and do your research. Decide what you want from your trip and you’re sure to find it. Our only ‘must-haves’ were not too expensive but with a pool, not in clubland and near good food and beaches. And we found it.

Goa is like the rest of India – it’s busy. The traffic is insane, people drive like lunatics but it’s rare to see a car with a dent, going with the flow seem to work. Obviously, there are cows everywhere, monkeys can be spotted in the trees, goats on roundabouts and water buffalo in the fields. Oh, and frogs in toilets and lizards in sinks. It’s all good.

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The people are as nice as you could find anywhere –helpful, friendly, not put off by the rude tourists who appear in the peak of the season.

The food can be a bit hit and miss – and is probably worth a blog post all of its own. Our main issues in the North were trying to find a good Goan curry, more difficult than you’d expect. No problems finding chicken nuggets and burgers though. Not that we tried any of those though.

There’s some beautiful architecture but you have to go a little further inland to find it.

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So overall, don’t write off Goa – it’s an easy entry into experiencing India and will leave you wanting to see much more of this beautiful country.

More to come… I’ll try not to be too boring.

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Reasons to be thankful. 1, 2, 3.

I’ve been doing a lot of complaining and bitching and moaning this year. In fairness, it has been a crappy arse of a year.

However, on Sunday, I officially entered the last year of my 30s and for the last month I’ve been on gardening leave, so it’s been a long period of reflection and contemplation. A little like Lizzie in The Walking Dead, I’ve been looking at the flowers (thankfully, I don’t have a Carol in my life though) and I’ve realised I’ve got a bucketload of things to be utterly grateful for. So here they are in no particular order.

  • My family (immediate and extended). They are an utter bunch of weirdos but I wouldn’t change ’em
  • Mr Wino (aka the husband). Slightly less of a weirdo than the above, but still peculiar in his own special and indeed fabulous way
  • Forever buddies/chums/gangs of awesome. Yes, sometimes they drive you insane, yes sometimes they let you down but let’s be honest, you’ve done the same to them. Ultimately these people are your brothers and sisters and whilst they may take a bullet for you, they’re just as likely to laugh at you when you fall over. Perfection
  • Rekindling old friendships and forging new ones
  • Autumn. Living in a world where seasons exist is something to be stupidly grateful for, particularly in Autumn when the skies are blue and the clouds are fluffy and there’s dew on the grass and a nip in the air
  • The Supermoon. This summer’s supermoon was incredible, watching it rise and glide across the skies above my garden was a treat
  • Discovering far flung places. We’re so lucky to live in a time where it’s affordable to jump on a plane and in a few hours, experience something so utterly different to the world we live in and learn from that. Or just to go shopping.
  • The internet. If you can’t jump on a plane, you can still learn about the world at the click of a button or a well worded search. And you can buy clothes and look at pictures of cats/food/clouds/doge or watch videos of animals doing ridiculous things. What else do you need?
  • Books. I’ve had a Kindle for a number of years, but I’ve recently rediscovered the joys of actual physical books. I’m in awe of people who can craft words into beautiful phrases that make your heart sing with joy
  • Being a woman. This is a short list, so I’m not going to go in depth here, but being a woman is fucking awesome for reasons that I’ll explain in a future post. I’m sure you all agree with me anyway
  • Being a woman of colour. As a woman of colour, fast approaching 40 who felt like there was nothing out there that spoke to her as a teen, I’ve been inspired by the likes of The Aerogram and Brown Girl magazine for giving young Asian women today a voice and hopefully helping them realise they’re not alone
  • Having a roof above my head and food to eat. Obviously.
  • My cat. She’s got a number of curious quirks and strange habits due to being abused (we assume) but there’s nothing that makes you feel more loved than when she miaows at you until you feed her. And then ignores you.
  • Being frivolous. Often it’s wise to ignore the voices in your head that tell you that a beanie with a veil is utterly nonsense. If it’s going to make you happy and you’re not going to starve yourself for a month to afford it, buy it. We all deserve a treat now and again.

I’m sure there’s more but I’m leaving it there for now for fear of becoming one of those list people who can only write in bullet-ed form. Which is a distinct possibility.

What are you grateful for? Let’s fill this page with joy and wondrousness. And until then, here are some pictures of my ridiculous cat. It is the internet, after all.

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