Land was created to provide a place for boats to visit.

Yesterday, I ran away to the sea again.  If this continues, I will have to rename this blog from “Lucie’s London” to “Lucie’s Many Attempts to Escape from London”.  The weather was lovely; we sailed from Portsmouth to Cowes on the Isle of Wight and back. Our yacht club has some new members this year, and they are all a good bunch. 

Among other news, last week I was offered a job in the south of France and now I’m standing in front of a big dilemma: to move or not to move. I’ve written down the list of pro’s (good weather, beaches, mountains, good food, cheaper rent) and the list of con’s (lack of city life, the hassle of moving all my stuff to France, plus I don’t speak French …), but it hasn’t brought me any closer to a decision. I wish I could split myself into two halves: half of me would stay in London, half of me would move to France.

The old, well-known quote by Mark Twain comes to mind: “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

Maybe I should go???

It’s okay if you don’t wanna play.

We Were Evergreen–Penguins & Moonboots

And it’s okay
if you don’t wanna play,
I can wait
for another day …

No, actually, I can’t. It’s Saturday and I wanna play today!!!

How not to be a domestic goddess, plus a little bit of music.

My friend S. has moved to a new apartment and yesterday she invited us over for housewarming. It’s London, everything is crammed, so I was warned at the entrance in a sarcastic voice: “The place is huuuuge, careful so you don’t get lost!” Afterwards, S. proceeded to give me a tour of her kitchen.

Kitchen cupboard 1: Shoes

Kitchen cupboard 2: Bags and Sweaters

Kitchen cupboard 3: More shoes, plus rubbish bin

Kitchen cupboard 4: Equipment for drink making

“Where do you keep your saucepans?” I asked her.
“I don’t have any,” she replied.
“No even one? No frying pan, no pots?”
“I don’t cook.”
“But you lived in your old place for a year! How did you cook there?”
“I had a microwave.”
“You can’t eat microwaved stuff for a year!”
Apparently you can. This young lady’s apartment is like showing a giant middle finger to Nigella Lawson. Did I ever mention how annoying I find Nigella Lawson? Something about her voice drives me nuts … she sounds so upper-class and patronizing.

The housewarming didn’t last long, I was rushing to catch Markéta Irglová and Iron and Wine playing at the Hackney Empire. Markéta Irglová is a Czech singer who became famous after winning an Oscar for the song Falling Slowly which she wrote together with Glen Hansard for the movie Once. I really love the songs that Glen and Markéta played together. They broke up, though, and now they each play separately.

Falling Slowly–Glen Hansard & Marketa Irlogva

I’m sorry to say, it was quite a disappointment seeing Markéta on her own. I wanted her to be goood and confident and entertaining and full of energy, but she barely made eye contact with the audience. Most of her performance was just pretty emotionless. One of the songs she played was called “Let Me Fall in Love”. She introduced by saying that the song isn’t necessarily about falling in love with a person; it’s about falling in love with life … and how when you’re in love, everything seems easier, you have more energy to do everything, and life just seems better. Well, that’s exactly what seemed to be missing from Markéta’s performance, that kind of energy and will to live. She was dressed like a grandma as well, hiding all that is pretty about her. I hope she falls in love soon, I really do.

>> a few rubbish phone photos of the very pretty Hackney Empire <<

Camber Sands

As much as I love London, truth be told there are days when I’m bloody sick of this smelly pit. Today was one of those days. I woke up, drank a cup of hot chocolate and fought the urge to hide from myself and my currently rather unsatisfactory life under the duvet. Finally, I forced my reluctant ass out of the house, out of the city. Off to the beach, to remind myself that I live on an island, to remind myself that there is a sea out there, and a world beyond that sea ... a world that will happily have me, should I wish to sail away. 

Camber Sands, oh Camber Sands, I love you. My favourite beach, sandy and golden and beautiful. Camber Sands goes on for miles and miles, so quiet and clean. Camber Sands, you restore my energies, you clean my lungs, you make me want to keep my eyes open.

I really should start spending more time outside.

>> Camber Sands is approximately 2.5 hours from London. You can take a train to Rye (from Charing Cross, changing at Ashford), followed by a short bus ride from Rye train station to Camber. It’s really not as complicated as it sounds and it’s totally worth it. <<

Kiss me?

Q: “Can I kiss you?”
A: “WAIT.”

Seeing things like this really makes my day. When you’re running around the city, it’s nice to be reminded there are people out there with a sense of humour. 

>> Spotted near Turnham Green <<