6 December 2011 / Cough, cough

There's no beating around the bush in London pharmacies. There's no "chest congestions" or "stuffed up sinuses". Over here, they just tell you like it is: you, my friend, have mucus.



Mucus aside, I'm sitting in my room at Isobel's house, freshly showered and pyjama-clad after a rousing evening of BBC1's University Challenge and Master Chef. British television really knows how to reel you in.

I had lunch at Blue Brick Cafe today, a lovely, tiny cafe in East Dulwich. It's vegetarian, and I had the most velvety, squash and carrot soup, drizzled with a garlicky olive oil, and a de puy lentil salad with roasted peppers. I really wish I'd saved room for the carrot cake, which I saw sitting on the counter too late. It was covered in frosting and leaned slightly to the left in a way that said "I'm homemade and extremely delicious".

The afternoon was blustery in every sense of the word, and bitingly cold, but the air was still clear and the sun was out. There were swirling leaves everywhere, and everything was red and golden.

I only have a few days until Lauren joins me, and then, a few days after that, Thomas arrives. I can't wait to say those hello's.