When travel plans are sabotaged.
This week I have serious travel envy. While I have a trip to London on the horizon, the flatmate – One Who Shall Remain Nameless – just announced that she’s off to Afrikaburn around the same time. While I’ll be dragging my weary carcass around the London Marathon (which, if I ever sign up for again, someone please shoot me), she’ll be heading off to dance until the sun rises in a remote but beautiful setting surrounded by like-minded music-loving souls, having the time of her life.
To add insult to injury, my plan of (hopefully) completing the marathon and then taking a cab to a favourite London watering hole to catch up with a squad of old friends and paint my old stomping ground every shade of red known to man has hit the skids – courtesy of a couple of geriatrics on tour.
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Issue 169, 2017