Goodbye, hello

I walked along the Thames. On the very firt morning of 2011. And saw a balloon floating along. And a French bakery.
I drank lattes. Waiting for them to cool down, with the wind and cold.
I turned the lights off to a kitchen I still miss every now and then.
I walked him home.
We drove to Cornwall. And saw the most beautiful lighthouse. Both wearing our hats against the mist and the fog. I think I left my heart there. Or at least a piece of me.
I crossed London by night. Possibly crying.
I walked through a forest made of white blossoms and mud at my feet.
I started working in another restaurant. And whether I realise or not, it shaped me.
We spent the most perfect day ever. Summer in April. It was almost wordless, but words don’t always matter. I left my pink ballet shoes in the grass and he left his flip-flops. And there we had tickle fights.
I went home. Or at least, that’s what they call it. We had a lunch made of sun sparkling on the sea. A pistachio sponge was served with smoked chocolate and green tea ice cream.
I swam with jellyfish.
I swam even when they were not in the sea.
We ate at Northroad. It was a roller-coaster. But mostly inspiring.
I wrote on stones.
I kissed him goodbye. In the rain. It doesn’t get anymore cliché than this.
I woke up to the most beautiful view of the London skyline line. It felt like walking on a cloud. Right above.
I introduced myself, with a possibly already stained apron and a hat ever too small or large. Why do I always have hat issues?
I woke up to a sunny and quiet Knightsbridge during the riots.
I flew to the smallest airport.
I cooked with my grand-mother. I listened to her stories. I rode my bike through a land I know by heart.
We ate at a restaurant in China Town. He burned my sequined top with his cigarette. And then we sang, mostly off key. He walked me home. We laughed all the way. I said good night over a garbage bin. It can’t get any less cliché than this.
I swam in the sea. Again. I slept a lot too.
I looked up. And wondered what Peterkin custard was.
We kissed. And went for a night-time exploration of London. I took a cab. Then came back.
I wore my leopard leggings. And cat’s eyes. He wore a wool hat. And we stood by a red door. Until the lamp poles went off. He kissed me goodbye in the cab.
I got ill. And lived in a world of hallucinations and dreams and nightmares. I didn’t hear or see when 2011 turned into 2012. But I know for sure it’s going to be fine.

Happy new year! x

16 comments

  1. D’après le titre de ton article, je croyais que tu étais pour annoncer que tu abandonnais ton blog. Je suis très soulagé que ce n’est pas le cas! Bonne année à toi Fanny, je te souhaite tout ce que tu veux! Beaucoup d’amour, de beau temps, de farine et de chocolat :P

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