Over the last few years I’ve been enjoying day trips out of London more and more. After getting my city fix Monday to Friday for almost 7 years now, hopping on a short train somewhere adds a breath of fresh air to the weekend and forces me to take a slower steps and unwind. I’ve had Cambridge on my list for years, it’s only an hour away from London by train so I can’t believe…

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There’s nothing quite like a British seaside town. The sound of the arcade machines ringing, the sea breeze ruffling through my hair, the promise of ice cream and salty fish and chips by the sea for lunch or dinner. It still creates the same sense of excitement in my thirties as it did in my childhood. But instead of burning off my excitement running back and forth to the sea and making sandcastles, afternoons are spent…

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As I squeezed myself onto a crammed Northern Line this morning our Spring trip to Sark felt like it could have been part of my imagination. A fictional place from a book I’d been reading even. It’s hard to believe amidst the rush of city life, where personal space comes at a premium, that there’s somewhere in the world where there are no cars, few people and the only sounds you’ll hear are birds chirruping…

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Last weekend James and I went to Rye and I can’t tell you how much more rested I’ve felt this week. I’d like to congratulate 2015 me for booking a UK break on whim and managing to keep it a surprise from James for 4 months! You see January was hectic. I was working for longer and later than usual and every weekend featured a trip or a celebration. Work aside, all good fun was had…

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  It was the night before Christmas Eve Eve and we arrived on a dark, blustery and wet Guernsey. James and I agreed last year that because our families are so far apart we’d alternate our trips between the two each year. This year was my first Christmas in Sark with James’ family, my first Christmas in 30 years without my own family and my first Christmas not spent in either London or Birmingham! So…

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