La Dolce Vita.

La Dolce Vita.

I taste the sharp tang of aperol spritz

whenever I see

the colour orange

feel my body uncurl in

a lazy Sunday afternoon


the fruit slice was always chunky

the prosecco as light as

that Summer salad you can’t get enough of

second helpings

third helpings

you know the score


all architecture

falters in comparison to Brunelleschi’s


the sheer marvel I would cycle past

every day

on the way to work

its shades of pink and green

its story

its history


if only I knew then what I know now

if only I knew how much I would miss you


night time isn’t night time

without the lights dancing across

the Arno

a fairytale

at your very fingertips

a story

that slips its hands into

the spaces of your chest

spaces you didn’t know existed

spaces you didn’t know needed filling


when the cold chill arrives

I wrap myself up

in the memory of Christmas on Piazza della Repubblica

my first month in the city when life took on

a whole new meaning

anything was possible

my world was infinite


and they ask me

why did you leave

why was this not enough?


how can I explain

that a city that set me soul alight

an existence full of




could not fulfill the longing

deep in the pit of my stomach

the what if that told me there was more


now my heart is full of memories and


my anchor deep in the abyss

of the many oceans I’ve passed


tell me

why was it not enough?

will anything ever be enough?


Why Travelling Ruins You.

Why Travelling Ruins You.

I’ve been home for two months now.

Two months of being reunited with my loved ones… some of whom I haven’t seen for next to two years. Laughter, tears, endless reminiscing. Beginning to make the plans that were just daydreams before. “See you soon” really means soon. The thousands of miles dissolved into but a line in our story.

Continue reading “Why Travelling Ruins You.”

Love in All the Right Places.

Love in All the Right Places.

As the plane dipped through the clouds and the miles and miles of British greenery all of a sudden spun out into the horizon, it finally hit me. That I was coming home. That, for now, my travels had been folded away neatly into my diary, pinned to the pages as a memory. A surreal picture of my past.

I didn’t know how I would feel. Would I be sad? Deflated? Numb? Would I cry? Would it even feel real at all?

Continue reading “Love in All the Right Places.”

The Importance of Travelling Alone.

The Importance of Travelling Alone.

It was going to be an apology. A desperate plea to make them understand, make them see where I was coming from. Why I gave everything up just to “keep on moving.”

Of course there was guilt. How could there not be? When you make a promise to commit the next six months of your life to share with another person, an important person, how can you not doubt your decision? The impact it has. The repercussions.

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Goodbye Florence!

Goodbye Florence!

We sat with our backs pressed up against the cool stone of San Miniato, the city laid out in front of us in all her splendour. The orange roofs, the glistening Arno and the magnificent Duomo standing tall above it all. It goes without saying: it was breathtaking.

It was my favourite spot in the city. Tucked away from the hustle and bustle of Florence life, sitting above it all offered a sense of clarity I struggled to find elsewhere. There were no tourists wielding crumpled maps, no men selling selfie sticks and no women covered in white paint demanding petty change.

Continue reading “Goodbye Florence!”