back to Blighty

This is the first Christmas I can recall since childhood when I have been truly excited (not in the French meaning of the word). Travelling the lesser voyaged paths is exhilirating and wonderful. It also serves to pinpoint what is important in your life.

Although I enjoy spending what my friends deem an unhealthy amount of time in my own company, this Christmas I am more than happy to be in the warm embrace of so many friends and family members.

Four days back in the UK has seen me do some odd things. After dancing gaily around supermarkets in awe of vegetables, Harrod's foodhall in particular, I have eaten non-stop at a plethora of splendid restaurants. The food is consequential but not nearly as important as the friends I have been eating with.

Tomorrow we return to St Jean de Luz for the first time in an age. I am reliably informed that our cat is still alive. While we have been sent photos of her none of them were date stamped or had newspaper front pages to verify the time. I remain sceptical.

Until then I intend to sit in an old East End ale house, quaff beer and eat stilton cheese with a teaspoon.

Cockney of the day:- abercrombie and fitch :: bitch