I have bike lights galore, but in the total darkness they kind of feel like the visual equivalent of farting into the wind (I desperately tried to think of a better analogy than that. But I’m just not fancy enough). They illuminate a couple of metres of road in front of me, and then I just have to trust my memory of where the potholes and the really squashed seagulls are. I only ever needed lights to help me be seen in London. In Cornwall I genuinely need them to see.

When you get to that bend in the road where the trees disappear and the bay opens up, well, it’s weird. It feels like I’m in one of those scenes in a sci-fi movie where they’re in a totally white space and you can’t tell what’s the floor and what’s the walls. Except it’s the polar opposite in real terms. Plus there’s nobody strapped to a table, and I feel like there’s quite often somebody strapped to a table when they’re in that room in a sci-fi movie. But I digress.… Read More The Darkness

One thing a lot of people said to me when I announced I was moving to Cornwall was “what about the theatre?”. You see, I like a good show. I’m not even that picky. I’ll go to the bad ones too. I wrote my own show last year and toted it around London before taking… Read More All the world’s a stage

Very occasionally, I want to experience life in the big city again. It’s mainly if I lose my mind and forget that I find Starbucks genuinely disgusting for tax and flavour reasons, or if I need to do a scout around charity shops for as many pairs of jeans as I can find.… Read More The nature train