I've been writing for a while now, and barely told you anything about myself. Ok then I'll pull the curtain back a little. I'm midway through my forties; career path is flatter than a pancake, which is no bad thing, since it's the life of letters I enjoy the most, either as a reader, or latterly, sticking articles on to this blog. Travelling another big joy, and it's true, always the journey, never the destination. I spend a lot of time idling through an open atlas.
London on the first day of 2012 is like being inserted into the pages of some grim Russian novel; wet, dank, preternaturally dark, and full of sombre faced individuals going nowhere. How desperate a start to the New Year.
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