“Do you have any jeans without… *ahem*…holes in them?” I asked sheepishly. The sales assistant at Selfridges, stared in mild disdain. Then looked me up and down – appeared reassured and decided to help. Continue reading
On our way out, to get some pub lunch. For The ultimate lazy weekend wear, I adore a plaid shirt. Continue reading
Back to the grindstone folk, no more chateaux chic and no more freshly baked croissants. Continue reading
The people have spoken – but what did they say? And is anyone listening? That’s democracy in action for you. Continue reading
One of those remnants, from the golden age of travel, the Blue Train was the perfect stop over on our way back to London. Continue reading
We are chilling out and this is ‘The View’ from the bedroom window. It includes LSH’s (long suffering husband’s) foot. My apologies it accidentally got into the photo marring the period detail… Continue reading
Lunch here is the main meal of the day and around two hours long.