I am back in England for a little while – a silly little while, in fact, as I booked my flight in a low period and wasn’t thinking clearly… But nevertheless it has been a clearing blast of fresh air and I have been able to realise that my life in KK is more than bearable, if it is interspersed with such breaks.
I have seen Consent at the Harold Pinter, which I liked very much, apart from the ending which was unconvincing. Then Julie at the National – what a load of old b******s. I should have read a review that said that it was a masterclass in mucking up a classic. The three main actors did their best, ramping up the agony, confusion, coke snorting, betraying and the rest, but honestly, the playwright should learn to leave well alone.
I went on the anti-Brexit march – civilised, passionate, polite and probably not effective, but at least I can say I told you so. One friend was not allowed into a restaurant until she removed her Bollocks to Brexit sticker, and another went into a pub which turned out to the HQ of the tiny little protest pro Brexit march that happened simultaneously. “I think this isn’t your kind of pub, mate” – he didn’t need to be told twice.
I am catching up with friends in Kent and London. The weather is heaven. I popped into meet someone at the Estorick Gallery. We looked around, and had lunch in the scented garden. Mmmm.
My case is full (decaf coffee beans, sandals, trousers for Glyn and more, much more), my bank balance considerably emptier, but I am happy. Back in KK on Thursday evening after a dreary 13 hours from London, four and a half hours at KL, and then a two and a half hour flight to KK. But KK is now familiar, I will see friends I have made there, our visitors start coming this month, and continue to do so regularly till the end of the year. We are back in December for ten days or so, so we will have an early Christmas with the boys. All’s right with the world.