The fake British accent I would put on when ordering coffee so that the Polish girls behind the counter could understand me.
Men who whispered ‘sexy’ under their breath as I walked through the Common.
Sitting on the top of a double-decker watching Trafalgar Square, Piccadilly and Kensington roll past.
Explaining what the difference is between Americans and Canadians.
Snog, Marry, Avoid.
The Book Club Boutique, Salena Godden, Tim Clare, Tim Key, Luke Wright, Hammer and Tongue, Michelle Madsen, The Troubadour, The Poetry Cafe, The South Bank Centre and their free wifi.
Drinking Pimms and Lemonade in Hyde Park by the Serpentine.
The clicking of shoes on the concrete floor of turbine hall as I meandered through tourists, children and art lovers.
Hipster hunting on Brick Lane.
Theatre. Really good theatre with extraordinary actors.
Gordon’s wine bar, Saf on Curtain road and Pret a Manger with those delicious cheese and pickle sandwiches.
Making fun of ravers and being told that pictures are not allowed at Cyber Dog.
The self-important feeling I got when I walked past people standing on the escalators in the underground.
My morning writers group at Goldsmiths.
French New Wave films at the BFI then walking around the South Bank at sunset.
Kim, Natalie, Arlene, Jess, Heather, Chris, Kevin, Jamie, and Neal.