I was already planning to leave Paris when lockdown began and so, with Macron's announcement, I felt that I had little choice but to return to my home country; tiny old England. With a one way ticket to Athens, and a sailing course waiting for me in Corfu, I was packing up my life by March, and just starting to get anxious that Coronavirus would derail my plans. And, of course, that's exactly what did happen. Having just quit my job, and due to soon hand in the keys to my apartment, my flight was cancelled, and so instead I found myself taking a last minute Eurostar to good old London, quite unsure as to what I would do next.
When it comes to the pop culture that I was exposed to, it's safe to say that I had an unusual childhood. I clearly remember my mother blaring out 70s boy band, The Osmonds, from the kitchen while I lip-synced Spice Girls, and, later, S-Club Seven, in my bedroom. Mum introduced me to The Jackson 5, while my Dad preferred Pink Floyd and The Who.
Lockdown began as I packed my bag for a summer at sea. Plane ticket ready. Boat waiting. Life neatly packed away. It was a trip I'd been planning for months, a summer of adventure like I'd dreamed of for over a decade. All on hold, for now.
Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
Outlander is a show that has long remained on the edge of my awareness, without my ever really having heard of it, consciously. Which, as a lover of period dramas, surprises me as much as those of my friends when they realise that it took me five seasons, and several years, to truly discover it. Even more surprising, as a bookworm, was my ignorance towards the epic book series, from which the TV-show is based. The series is yet unfinished, but to date, consists of eight novels (ranging from 600-1200 pages each), a ninth oncoming, and a spin-off series, several short stories, and a graphic novel. Clearly, this is a mega-series, a brand in itself, and yet, somehow, it's until now avoided my attention.