back to life, back to reality…
Genuine apologies for my tardiness in posting the latest missive, but whilst the city of Liverpool (from where I had planned to report) is undoubtedly a joy for anyone still counting themselves among the living, the same was unfortunately not true of my very nicely appointed apartment, which upon arrival I discovered to have not only no working Internet (wireless or otherwise), but also a mobile reception roughly equivalent to an underground car park in Turkmenistan, the net result being that any caller who got as far as making the telephone ring in the first place would be treated to the type of hissing, crackling and echoey gibberish more usually heard in wildlife documentaries. Not ideal, in other words.
Suffice to say that after the first day of vainly attempting to arrange appointments by text message whilst pondering the legal and practical implications of smoke signals in a city centre, I graciously threw in the towel and went to the pub. Fortunately for me, the couple of gentlemen who had thought to book well in advance provided delightful distraction enough for the first day and the city itself along with my new friend, the wonderfully warm, intelligent and very obliging Sarita more than made up for the unanticipated lack of further gentlemanly company and a fine time was had by all; indeed so cheered was I by the combination of fabulous restaurants, unexpectedly stunning architecture and the friendly superlambananas peeping out of every other corner that I almost regretted my decision to leave a day earlier than planned.
Unfortunately, amusing oneself in a new city is rarely free (this would include amongst other things the Beatles Story at the Albert Dock, which cost £12.50 and entertained me for under ten minutes as soon as I realised that the majority of it was underground and thus out-of-bounds to anyone with a pathlogical fear of suffocation, the dark and being without at least two bars on the mobile at all times). Without the means to earn replacement funds the only sensible thing to do in the end was return home to more glorious sunshine, sadly no lambananas but a warm welcome from visitors old and new. And thank God for that.
My visit did have a dual purpose, and I had a delightful girly evening with the lovely Rosie Campbell of the UK Network of Sex Work Projects which included, amongst other things, a brief and distant-ish but nevertheless welcome encounter in a posh bar with the rather easy-on-the-eye (but not as tall as he looks on the television) Ricky Whittle, and a chat about some new involvements for yours truly – the UKNSWP links projects which provide support, advice, healthcare and various other services to working persons up and down the land. The other exciting news (and in a similar vein), I am proud to report that SAAFE, the information and advice resource with forum moderated by you-guessed-it, has been announced as a finalist for the Best Website gong at the Erotic Awards 2010. The awards ceremony takes place at the Night of the Senses ball on April 30th with proceeds going to Dr Tuppy Owens’ charity Outsiders (and I promise that is the very, very last link). Needless to say, the outfit is already being planned…
Availability for this coming week is trickling away but as I will be comfortably nesting here in Scarborough now for a full two weeks before my brief (three day) refurbishing flit back to Champneys, all is far from lost for those who have been patiently waiting for me to stop dashing about and attend to my local callers (and quite right too). Following that, a new one on me in the shape of a day in Manchester, where I will be on Other Business, but nevertheless available for limited appointments in the city centre should the opportunity arise. In the meantime though, domestic bliss beckons. I admit, I was beginning to forget how much fun can be had on this settee…
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