I'm leathery and I'm back

Awww, just had the most sentimental of times reading the hubub of activity that's taken place over the past 10 days whilst I've been away, thanks to both Dan and my other lovely friend who has been posting some gorgeous food for thought. I too jogged obsessively for a period of about 6 months last year and at best managed about 16 minutes without stopping, so when Steve asked me if I wanted to help him train for the marathon, I scoffed. I oould barely make it to the perimeter of Clapham Common with him...

So we arrived back at about 9pm last night after a 22 hour journey, one sea plane, one flight from Male to Colombo, 4 hours in Sri-Lanka and then the 11 hour schlep back to Heathrow, oh and then a bonkers cab driver who, in the most amazing feat, almost managed to enduce sickness after 15 minutes of driving after having survived 16 hours in the air. Tsk tsk. He then wanted £47, of which £10 was for 'parking charges'....he clearly forgot we'd met him outside the carpark.

Anyway, I digress, of course, I ought to be telling you about our wonderful holiday which I will do, in good time,over the next few posts. I'm going to try some technical genius and put my photos online a la Natalia, but this might take a little time and love. I am infact sitting in bed surrounded by cables and software discs....eeek, Dan might need help with this tonight!

However, what's hit me with the biggest bump since last night is....WHAT AM I DOING? In the next 5 days I have to find somewhere to live in London and maybe even move (not that I'm overly concerned I'm going to be homeless as I'm lucky enough to have a best mate as a landlord and have bought her lots of vodka to soften the blow incase it takes a couple more weeks) and start a new job, which, in all honesty, I don't really know a great deal about. Arrrgggghhh, am i having a 'Third way through life' crisis? What was I thinking taking on all this change immediately after an idylic relaxing break.

OK, so with the work thing, it's going to be a change from the incipid world of law and the boring cyclical nature of my work as a legal marketing executive, which of course, is a massive bonus, but what is it going to be like? I feel a mixture of excitement and terror, which I have to say is better than the numb, dull, laborious dread of the previous year. I have to teach myself to embrace the change and see the whole thing as a massive and extremly steep learning curve, which, of course there is every chance of me slipping backwards down, like one of the hapless kid competitors on 'We are the Champions'.

I guess its a case of waiting and seeing. I'll let you know!

In the meanwhile, I am going to try and get my pics uploaded and then start regailing my stories of holidays including my favourites:

1) 'Floater in the pool' A classic 'who-dunnit' with a twist.

2) 'Deserted island day' An eery day spent a deux on our very own island in a 'Lost' like fashion.

3) 'Shark attack' well, small fish which accompanies shark and 'attack' more like vague interest in Ali

4) Christmas anthems including 'Last Christmas I gave you my heart' soundtrack accompanying day on boat. Bizarre.

5) Reliving the 80's- including not only Wham as above, but also, Pina Coladas in carved out coconut shells, kareoke Brit style, prawn cocktails and even the citing of black forest gateux on the all inclusive buffet.

6) 'Fisherman Ali' Ali excels in her fishing prowess during a night fishing excursion in which she catches the biggest and (to her shame and extreme guilt) most gorgeous giant angel fish from the reef. At asking whether she could now throw 'Angela' back, she was told by Maldivian fisherman that 'no' because Angela was 'yum yum'. Then had to endure sounds of gasping and flapping by Angela and her big eyes piercing my sole, sorry soul. Cried. Serves me right for going. Steve did impressions of her in her dying moments the rest of the holidays. I have pictures of her, I will upload, if we could all take a moment. I would like to point out at this juncture that the Russians on our fishing trip, grabbed Angela from me just after I'd hauled her on deck and took lots of glory photos, claiming her as their own. I spat on them (mentally only, although they might have thought it was a form of fish catching celebration).

7) 3rd degree burns- Ali suceeds in burning patches of her chest, 3 times over, leaving oozing blisters and patchy redness. Bang goes the wearing of tan-showing-off outfits over the next week. I look like I have serious psoriasis.

Me and Steve only had one day of arguing which I felt, was fairly impressive, and I did have PMT. Thankfully it wasn't the day we were stranded on the desert island and then collected 10 hours later or I might have fashioned a dagger from some coral and done some serious damage.

Details and pics to follow.....