London calling - What a difference a holiday makes
Now that spring has really sprung, Joe Fountain has nothing but good things to write about.
There's nothing like a bit of sun to bring a smile to my face, and when that sun comes as part of a four-day weekend, said smile makes the Cheshire cat look positively dismal. Even though I left London on Thursday with a blue sky and high temperature, it was nothing compared to what I found at this end on arrival. Not a cloud in the clear blue sky, a temperature that makes the wearing of T-shirts and flip-flops (which Flatmate - who flew with me - was sensible enough to tell me to pack) and three full days of doing nothing but spending time with friends and family. Bliss. No, better. Double bliss.
Perhaps it's not right to say that I did nothing over my quick weekend visit. I actually managed to fit in quite a bit, including our clique's (it's been years since I last used that word) annual Good Friday picnic, this year held far down at the bottom of Sa Maison gardens in Pietà, which I haven't visited probably since I was about 10 years old! (It's a lovely place to visit, by the way. Very well kept.) And then there was my Saturday morning visit to Valletta - most of which was spent in Queen's Square, drinking Kinnie and eating pastizzi. On Sunday, after the obligatory enormous family lunch, it was time to sit in the sun at City of London, catching up with friends over a glass (or was it 12?) of wine. It was there that I was told by an old friend to "stop moaning" in this column. "Don't you have anything good to say?" she said. And no, she wasn't teasing. Sorry. Didn't realise I was such a downer!
And what joy to see that the weather has followed me back to the Big Smoke, where everyone suddenly seems more relaxed, and people have started to smile again. On the city's streets, woollen scarves and coats have been replaced by light cottons, while gardens are springing back to life again. Maybe I'm being very hopeful here, but I've already packed up all my winter clothes and put them away. The 12 tog winter duvet - which would fare well on a night out camping in Siberia - is now vacuum packed and replaced by a sheet and a cashmere blanket (a birthday present from a group of friends which has made bedtime that much more enjoyable, and getting out of bed on cold winter mornings, a bit more painful).
So all is fine and dandy. The days are longer, people are looking better (a bit of a tan makes a hell of a difference. I got mine on Sunday morning sitting in Tigné) and people have started to talk about holidays and stuff. I've got a whole summer's trips all booked and ready, which helps make things so much better. Problem is: all this flying is not going to do my carbon footprint any good. Note to self: must get down to getting some trees planted.
Perhaps it's not right to say that I did nothing over my quick weekend visit. I actually managed to fit in quite a bit, including our clique's (it's been years since I last used that word) annual Good Friday picnic, this year held far down at the bottom of Sa Maison gardens in Pietà, which I haven't visited probably since I was about 10 years old! (It's a lovely place to visit, by the way. Very well kept.) And then there was my Saturday morning visit to Valletta - most of which was spent in Queen's Square, drinking Kinnie and eating pastizzi. On Sunday, after the obligatory enormous family lunch, it was time to sit in the sun at City of London, catching up with friends over a glass (or was it 12?) of wine. It was there that I was told by an old friend to "stop moaning" in this column. "Don't you have anything good to say?" she said. And no, she wasn't teasing. Sorry. Didn't realise I was such a downer!
And what joy to see that the weather has followed me back to the Big Smoke, where everyone suddenly seems more relaxed, and people have started to smile again. On the city's streets, woollen scarves and coats have been replaced by light cottons, while gardens are springing back to life again. Maybe I'm being very hopeful here, but I've already packed up all my winter clothes and put them away. The 12 tog winter duvet - which would fare well on a night out camping in Siberia - is now vacuum packed and replaced by a sheet and a cashmere blanket (a birthday present from a group of friends which has made bedtime that much more enjoyable, and getting out of bed on cold winter mornings, a bit more painful).
So all is fine and dandy. The days are longer, people are looking better (a bit of a tan makes a hell of a difference. I got mine on Sunday morning sitting in Tigné) and people have started to talk about holidays and stuff. I've got a whole summer's trips all booked and ready, which helps make things so much better. Problem is: all this flying is not going to do my carbon footprint any good. Note to self: must get down to getting some trees planted.