My affair

Following my myriad liaisons in the Scottish countryside, I felt it was time for some serious fun, so headed to the bright lights of London’s metropolis, where posing as a Petit Chaperon Rouge, I found my wolf.

There followed four hedonistic days of squatting, as Bonnie and Clyde were reunited for their usual messing about on the river and aborted bike rides, from Tuscan/Jewish feasts and Jamaican jazz dancing, to thunderstorm stranding on the Jubilee Line and farmer’s chutney rave parties.

Alas, like all things fabulous, it had to come to an end, and I’m returning to the hubby on the Hudson.

As my faither would say, “Back tae auld claes and purridge”.

Or in the words of Alton Ellis, pure sorrow…..