Road to recovery

I forced myself to the gym last night to kick-start, ‘operation  lift funk’.  And I have to say, with the help of the man-mountain next to me who  was competing with  five foot, fiddy-fi kilo me*, I managed to finally begin the arduous process of dragging my sad and sorry, gym-less, pyjama-wearing, wine-coiffing, spaghetti-laden arse out of the […]

How I found myself in a crack den

OR: was taken by my  host  to simply pick up his scooter from a friend’s apartment. Because of your guest’s mild nervousness at being in a city where she doesn’t speak the language and is completely at the mercy of a man she barely knows (hot Frenchie), it’s not a funny joke to phone ahead […]