As Travelling To The Frozen North Goes, You Could Have Worse Days Than This:

As travelling to the frozen North goes, you could have worse days than this:

Ramadan observations -

* “I know our lesson’s usually at 3pm but can we make it 1pm for this month? I just... I just really need my afternoon nap.”

* *two guys washing a car, one hurls a bucket of water over the top that splashes into the face of the other* “Bruv! Aw, maaan! That went in my mouth, man! I swallowed that! You broke my fast, man! Aw, screw you bruv, I may as well just go get a sandwich now. Gonna eat it right in front of you, man.”.

* Evening train; within the space of about 30 seconds something like five separate phone alarms go off in our one carriage. A little old Bengali woman immediately dives into her big bag, cracks open a huge tupperware of dates and starts offering them around to everyone within reach regardless of race, creed or colour. I don’t even particularly like dates but I take my three because it seems to make her happy.

FTR, that picture below of the snowy valley is the one that fried my phone’s SD card and irretrievably lost me about 18 months worth of photos that I hadn’t backed up.

I hope it was worth it, you bastard.

Me: It must be nearly SPRING because for the first time in a long time I am home and I am WARM and TOASTY.

My Brain: You live in a badly-heated and appallingly-insulated flat. It’s February in London. You are sick, and you are running a temperature.

Me:...which makes me WARM and TOASTY.

I’m not saying I’ve found my spirit animal (pace actual bunnies), but never has there been a clearer picture of me first thing on any given morning.

My last tutoring place of the evening sent me home with a mango as a sort of combined iftar / sorry-for-cancelling-the-next-three-weeks-of-lessons gift but it was really ripe and I was scared to put it in my bag as it would squish so I was walking down the Whitechapel Rd and then sitting on a bus just sorta... gingerly clutching a single small mango.