Whoo-eeee!

innit!

wwww

wwww

Cairo Bus

You knew it would come to this!

kkk

kkk

going and gone

gone and been

Salma

My friend Salma El Masry.

trip to aswan

aaa

Arrived in Cairo

Arrived in Cairo

fgfg

fgfg

hhhh

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father: Patrick London 1947

mother: Elise Rangoon 1955

me: London 1983

ddd

ddd

well...

well

So Far So Far

It's OK with Rob so far. Better than OK in fact. Christmas was wonderful and now we're going away to spend New Year's Eve in a country inn, snuggling up under the duvet in a four-poster bed. Rob and I have been flying a lot these weeks and months and not just in bed. We have been on short breaks to Bruges, Barcelona, Luxor and New York. I loved all of them, even New York, though I think that was because it was covered in snow. Anywhere covered in snow makes me feel warm and cheerful. Which is why we are going to the country, hoping it will snow all week long, Rob and me.

Sailing and Flying

God, that last post was so long ago. And Matt is so long ago too. But he was good while he lasted, and I was good to him, so neither of us has anything to complain about. Matt has this thing about boats and he's now somewhere in the Indian Ocean. Sailing to Australia. What a thing to do! He asked me to come with him, but I hate even looking at the pond in St James' Park, all those little fish and things. So he went with Gilda. Gilda and Matt giving it to each other all the way across the Indian Ocean. If only I was braver about ponds and fish and boats. I would give anything to be where Gilda is now, not with Gilda of course but alone with Matt, but not really anything - not having it off on the bottom of a boat with all those fish swimming just under me. On the other hand there is now Rob, and Rob is a pilot. Rob flies me, which I rather like, and I fly Rob.

Promising Encounter

I met Helen on the bus the night before last. Right on the top of the bus. I was in the front seat, on the left, my favourite position, and she came and sat on the front seat on the right-hand side. I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye, and I noticed too it was a female figure, so I wasn't bothered. We travelled that way for several stops. Then I noticed her turning her head to look at me and so I turned my head to look at her. 'Helen!' 'Lucy!' And we laughed and hugged. We haven't seen each other since we were at school. I went back to Helen's place and we talked through the rest of the night. I stayed over, going to sleep as the sun was rising. As it happens Helen has this dishy brother, Matt, and that was one reason I was happy to keep talking and to stay over. I am seeing Helen and Matt again in a few days. I wonder what will happen.

Riding Night Buses

I'm fed up. What a way to start a blog. But maybe that's why I'm doing it at all. In fact I started last October but thought it best to delete all those earlier postings. They were shall we say indiscreet. Too indiscreet, as it turned out. Anyway, Stephen and I have broken up. That is the third man in the last year I have broken up with. I got fed up with Stephen just like I got fed up with Jake and Tomasso. Sounds like sauce: Jake and Tomasso. A sort of Jamaican-Italian sauce for hot pasta dishes. I have felt a bit like a pasta at times and have not minded being made to feel hot. But neither Jake nor even Tomasso (don't say I haven't gone out of my way) really cut it. Nor Stephen as it turns out, though he was pretty good in many ways, mind and body you know. But mechanical. No soul. For that matter no tenderness, no sensuality. Just mechanical. He thought thrusting was enough. I liked the thrusting too, and I gave as good as I got. But I wanted something else too. So I'm fed up. But it's also because of my job. Human resources, they call it. I can't say more at the moment. But nothing human about it at all. Instead I ride the night buses. London at night from the top of a bus is the most beautiful place in the world.