what a difference a day (or so) makes…
And to pick up where I left off last time, a hop skip and a jump in an even-minier plane than last time (and see above; yes that is the pilot) and over to lovely Guernsey, or at least what I have thus far seen of it – even after four visits, still not much. Thankfully this was less to do with the weather (which had calmed down considerably) and far more with the usual enthusiasm of the menfolk, which ensured that any free-time recce was limited to popping out to get lunch, and some very enjoyable outdoor-ish Kindle reading from the comfort of my lovely hotel, where the sun had his hat on all day Wednesday and lifted my mood no end.
My (woolly) hat stayed resolutely off until touchdown at Gatwick on Thursday lunchtime, whereupon it was hastily found and replaced as the reality of my good fortune a few miles further South sank in along with the chilly drizzle and grey skies. However I had a lunch date at Dim T (again) with the lovely Kinky La Rue and we were celebrating – for those who haven’t seen her blog already, my friend has got ‘erself a Proper Job after a ten year break from the 9 to 5! Despite having a stinking cold on interview day (an unenviable prospect at the best of times and I don’t even remember the last one I had) she managed to impress them so much that they rang the next day offering the job – no messing about. 
We celebrated over lobster gyoza, pork buns and duck-with-all-sorts and after green tea and a banana fritter (and a pic – see left; the new Prada sunglasses I bought at Jersey airport for a treat seemed less optimistic at the time) I sallied forth to my very bijoux Kings Cross mini-room (for one night only) and a quick shoe-change later (rain again) I was on my way up to Kentish Town for the English Collective of Prostitutes’ Rights Sheet launch. Those who know me will probably be aware that public speaking is very much not my thing, and that whilst I have no trouble at all prancing round a hotel room in front of a total stranger wearing nothing but six inch patent heels and tinted lipbalm, any more than two eyes on me (clothed or otherwise) and something in my brain begins to shut down as a defence mechanism.
I can’t honestly recall a word of whatever I babbled, however, everyone was very kind and to be fair it mattered not – the main speakers from organisations all around the world including Guyana, India, Ireland and the USA amongst others were all wonderful and I left on something of a high that can only come from the act of standing on a stage in front of a few dozen strangers and explaining that you are a happy and willingly working prostitute who is very proud to spend some of her free time helping support other prostitutes. And is not a little hacked off that even in the 21st century we may still not work under the normal conditions that everybody else is entitled to (namely with Another Person there) unless we want to get them, ourselves or both arrested, prosecuted and relieved of whatever property we may have been fortunate enough to amass; the Know Your Rights sheet may not change the law, but will at least provide even more working women (and men) with a bit more back up in the event of police interference or misunderstanding in much the same way as SAAFE aims to do, and in turn, hopefully give us a little more power back. Never a bad thing.
Friday morning saw me headed for home via the shiny new Kings Cross concourse – more on this next time as I had forgotten about my planned exploration and left only enough time to board my seat and await my free tea and shepherds pie, but the place is looking better than it has in years, and I promise to get some pictures (although these will not distract me from the progress of my new favourite building, the Shard, which I was beside myself with excitement to have a clear view of from my hotel room window and am planning a trip around as soon as the tickets go on sale). In the meantime, the Londonist (linked above) has plenty.
To this week, and not a lot to say really – I will be away Thursday and Friday, am already busy Wednesday and Saturday bar a couple of scant appointments and the next twenty four hours are pretty much spoken for too! Belfast is the next port of call before a couple of days in Dublin (and a far better organised departure from the lovely Dublin airport this time – orders for soda bread, white and black puddings and other delights have already been taken). Normal service will be resumed in Scarborough on Monday 21st, or possibly the 23rd depending on a flying dash back to – yep – London. You’ll be the first to know…
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