Whole Roast Chicken

OK. I'm here. It's seriously hot, it's seriously humid. My back has been sweaty for 2 days and my ass has been totally drenched for much of the same time! Smoking Loon advised that, in Seoul, he has a similar curse and I thought that, as I'd be living in the desert, I'd just feel a bit flushed. Alas not. Mr Smoking Loon, I feel your (extremely damp) pain!

However, it's only been 2 days, I haven't started work yet, but I think I already really kinda like it. Last night we had a whole roasted chicken for dinner. It was delivered to the door. With chips. And a fab salad (with pomegranite). And falafel. And flatbread. And pickles. It cost us buttons. It was delicious.

This evening we went out for dinner and ate outside. Again I was soaked to the skin with sweat but loved being outdoors in the evening without chattering teeth and the need for some kind of knitwear.

This afternoon we went to the Emirates Palace, an vast 1 billion star hotel (£16,000 per night for a suite). There was a Picasso exhibition, we popped in and it was enormous. The amazing things about it (besides the art itself) were that it was completely free and completely empty! There were about 8 other people there. It was like having a private gallery. Brilliant! I was so thrilled and pleased with the whole afternoon that I had to have a sit down in the luxurious surroundings of the hangar-sized lobby and have a pot of date tea - another cheeky surprise. Who knew that tea made from dates could be so good?!

Tomorrow we're off for brunch at an huge revolving restaurant for as much as we can eat, with champagne included. Something tells me that this place is all about eating and drinking. Good news for a lardy, gluttonous porker like me, bad news for my waistline and health regime. Two things may save me.

1. Yesterday we perused the huge variety of beach/health clubs on offer. I've decided on my favourite. TOH has a different favourite so we're going to have to sit down and think hard. Whichever we choose, it means I'm going to have to go to the gym and get a personal trainer to haul me into shape. Terror!
2. I need so many passport-sized photos as everyone requires at least two for everything - work, driving licence, liquor licence, beach club membership... I went to a photo store today (they don't seem to have machines here). The man took a few snaps, asked me how many copies I needed and then set to on photo shop smoothing out my wrinkles, removing dark circles and evening out my skin tone. Even though I say so myself, I look fantastic - I was close to asking him to give me back my hair! The man is a magician! I'm now on a quest to find a surgeon to do what my photographer has done!

I'm full, sleepy and enjoying the glorious feeling of aircon on my skin. I'm off to bed.

Apologies for the lack of pics. I'm using someone else's laptop - my stuff is going to take 7-9 weeks to arrive, including my PC.

Night all.

The cupboards are bare...

...and so is my house.

Everything is packed up. There are boxes everywhere. My fabulous holiday to Ibiza is now a week old memory and my tan is fading the same way, I still have a tan line to peek at now and again to remind me though.

In 3 days we'll be closing our front door in London for the last time and heading to the airport, never to return to this house. I'm not normally a sentimental person but I've found myself doing odd things this last week. Yesterday whilst drinking a glass of water at the sink I stood watching the trees outside and the wind buffeting the leaves about and then how the resulting shadows played around our kitchen. I'm going to miss trees and the varieties of green that I see all of the time here in the UK - it rains a lot so green is definitely a UK colour. There are only palm trees where I'm going and the colours that dominate are sandy brown, sky blue and the retina-sizzling turquoise of the ocean - not a huge palette but a totally different one to what I'm used to, so I'm looking forward to it.

I've had my last Friday night out here in London.

I've said "au revoir" to most of my friends and yesterday, to my parents which was much sadder than I expected it would be.

I've been in my last tube delay (hopefully) and had to recalculate the resulting circuitous route through the London underground network to get home.

I've thrown most of my coats and jumpers away but I've dithered and still remain undecided about my compact umbrella.

I've been massively stressed that I'll forget to do something important.

I'm ready. I want to go. I'd like to go now. I still have to wait 3 more days. I don't like camels which could be a bit of an issue...

Au Revoir Jambon et Fromage... Ola Jamon y Queso!!

Erm... at the risk of further incredulous condemnation... I'm going on holiday this evening.

I can already sense the huge dip in air pressure and oxygen levels as much air is sucked through teeth as regular visitors read this revelation. I guess to many it won't come as a surprise. But you all know I love holidays and travel.

I do have a small defence though. Once I start my new job, I won't be able to take any leave for 6 months - in my terms that's almost a holiday eternity.

Anyhoo... I'm catching a late flight from Gatwick tonight and I'll arrive in Ibiza just in time to throw something light and swishy on and hit a groovy bar. Alternatively, I could put something clingy and inappropriate on and hit a club. Mind you, there have been too many pies and too much beer in the last few weeks to be able to get away with 'clingy' so it'll have to be baggy and shapeless - Europe's uber-cool set will just have to poke it!

Apologies again for my useless, infrequent posting but once my life settles into something more controllable, normal service will resume.

I'll return with a tan, more beer belly and possibly, ears filled with party foam.

Actually, that last bit isn't going to happen.