Are you excited about the Olympics? Are you cosying up to the hearth, enjoying a pinot noir in icy, icy Melbourne, or celebrating Mid-Summer in Europe? Did you read 50 Shades of Grey yet*?
Don't worry, this blog isn't going to suddenly morph into an upbeat, uber-friendly, insta-bestest-buddies site a la Meet Me At Mikes (which I love, but whose relentless perkiness can be a bit much sometimes).
I've been in London and Sweden for a couple of epic weddings, where a friend told me she missed reading my blog posts. Cherry Merry Muffin Cakes, this one goes out to you.
It was such a weird feeling to be back in the UK - like being transported to a parallel universe where everything is just as you remember it, but slightly changed. I felt like I was in a bubble, removed from my surroundings for much of the first week. By week 2 however, I was fully re-assimilated; hopping on and off buses, weaving expertly around the dawdling crowds on Oxford street, perusing the weekend Guardian and visiting favourite haunts.
And of course, it was a joy to catch up with my lovely London crew and attend the various wedding-related events.
It's funny - since I've been back in Melbourne, I've not felt the slightest inkling to return to my former life in London.
It turns out I did miss that dang town. It just took a whirlwind trip there in the middle of Summer, post-Jubilee celebrations, pre-Olympics craziness to remind me. London in the Summertime is a thrilling place - I missed that big-city feeling of anything can happen. Not knowing what urban adventure you might stumble upon next. The feeling of being surrounded by life, spilling out all around you. The low, endless cityscape rendered in - well, 50 shades of grey.
All the things I have written about London before, still hold true. And then some, because now they are brushed with a soft, beautiful wash of nostalgia.
*I haven't and probably won't, because I prefer my literary erotica to be a little more highbrow, if you know what I mean.
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