#hot

With technology failing all around me, and jet lag dragging me into the quicksand of hungry sleep I crawled back to the apartment, and passed out.
Fully clothed.
On top of the bedcover.
I awoke with that feeling of not knowing where I was.
Or in fact who I was.
As soon as both these things revealed themselves I was wide awake.
It was 1am.
And I was starving.
And despite knowing full well that I had not bought provisions I stumbled to the kitchen in search of food. 
Managed to uncover a bag of nuts, a bag of twisties and two beers left by previous occupants.
Despite any misgivings about use by dates or broken seals, I scoffed the lot.
With a double temazapan chaser.
Out til 10am.
Finally ready to start my holiday.
49 hours after leaving home.
Of course the burning question on my lips at this time was "what will I wear today?"
Travel may provide people with opportunities to expand their horizons and immerse themselves in foreign cultures.
For me it provides an opportunity to bring out all my most fabulous fashion that I don't get to wear very often at home.
I love that in England everybody seems to dress smartly.
No matter what they're doing.
Of course the cooler weather allows for this.
This same weather also has all English people apologising for it, as soon as they discover you're Australian.
"Oh", I quip, "when you live in Australia, you don't come to England for the weather".
While secretly thinking, I love this weather. 
It's exactly the reason I come here.
To ship out all my couture.
And a Brit I met in Sydney before leaving me informed that London was having an especially cool summer.


Perfect.


So I took:


2 overcoats.
4 blazers.
3 casual jackets.
16 shirts.
5 sweaters.
6 scarves.
3 pairs of jeans.
2 pairs of pants.
2 pairs of loafers.
2 pairs of lace-up shoes.
2 pairs of boots.
4 pairs of trainers.


I was there for a week.
And my luggage had tipped the scales by half a kilo, which was sorted with a quick bat of the eyelashes at @young_cute_check_in_guy.


I was prepared for every event.


Except a sudden rise in temperature.


It was fuckin' hot.


And when I looked out my window I saw people in shorts and t-shirts, neither of which had made their way into my suitcase.


But I managed to summon my long dead but forever glamorous grandmother's three most resonating maxims:


1. beauty knows no pain
2. never let the truth get in the way of a good story
3. never let the weather get in the way of a great outfit


And thus inspired set forth into the English summer in my winter woollies.




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