I’ve neglected this lately. For six weeks I’ve been trying to get a blog out but have failed in every way. I’ve seen so much I could have ummed and erred on about, too. Like why do they make white goods white and electric things like stereos black? I’ve been learning a bit about the fragility of sanity – and how much can change so very quickly when the strings holding our minds in their normal static solidity are compromised. And seeing the effects of elastic independence.
I’ve been picking elderflowers in Vicky Park, scrambling through banks of wild garlic in Wales, slurping oysters in West Mersea, sleeping late after long Dalston nights and all the while steeling myself for big changes ahead.
I’ve been frying some other fish and nfan has taken a back seat. See, I’m moving to Australia and I’ll be blogging my moves for the Evening Standard. The aim is to leap into the abyss and immerse myself in lonely terror, taste what it feels like to have excitement and fear coursing through me, meet things, see people, try stuff out and perhaps learn a little on the way. It’s scaring me throughout most of most days but it feels good to be doing something.
I am freelancing from the end of June and will be specialising in writing about food – in the same vein as my Independent articles – and of course keeping an eye on all things eco. Check out this month’s National Geographic Green magazine to see my latest article, Britain’s Greenest Festivals – which reminds me, reminds me good, that Glastonbury is just around the corner.
Here’s to my last British summer for a while and to the blossomy stink of the elderflower cordial that I have stewing away in the fridge.