The Little Things
I’ve long serenaded my love of summer and barely-there beach clothes, but I have to admit, after recently returning home from the Maldives, I was ready to get back under layer upon layer of winter wear. Sometimes it feels strangely more liberating to be rugged up under black denim and sheepskin than it is to be salty and sand-covered in a bikini. Maybe I have a little more blighty in me than I like to admit…
Getting back into a normal work routine is no easy feat when you’ve been hotel-hopping and in and 0ut of airports for the last 3 weeks, but it feels strangely good to be back at it. Travelling never gets old for me and will forever be the best part of my job, but it does make you value the simple things in life. Sleeping in your own bed for a few consecutive weeks, grabbing lunch from your favourite local deli and doing your own laundry are weirdly satisfying sometimes. Plus, I really missed the act of writing and blogging while I was away… My usually steel-fast tri-weekly publishing schedule crumbled under dodgy wifi and manic travel schedules, so it feels almost like a relief to be able to get back on track.
London is feeling good right now too, even in the miserable, grey drizzle that welcomed us back into Heathrow. Hundreds of extra lights, bustling-markets, trees on shoulders, wreaths on doors; my corner of the capital has all those good festive feelings going on right now.
Come January, I’ll no doubt be thinking about where I can disappear to next but for now, I’m content to potter about under London’s grey skies in warm, Beatnik favourites.