A bit of Isle-Wight (Alright)

I met Percy on Thursday. It was a little past midnight, we were at a table downstairs at Le Baron and I was sitting cross-legged, barefoot, with my loafers folded neatly behind me. It had been a night to grieve; just before Le Baron I was at the 'launch' of Voodoo Vault---which, by the way, was as dead as the crypt it was named after---in the club formerly known as Salon formerly known as Le Baron. Is that space cursed or what? Ever hopeful, we moved on to our trusty standby, Maddox. However a departing Molaroid and his flock of corseted females duly informed us of the futility of seeking any such amusement there, as it was d-e-a-d, dead-er than my love for The Box

And this is how I found myself downstairs at Le Baron, not even bothering to put on my dancing shoes or really any shoes at all. As my loafers poked my back, I gazed out at the dance floor. It was devoid of all that we loved about London nightlife; our friends (can you all please come back from Dubai/Paris/your full-time relationships?), the electric magic, and...something, perhaps the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a once easily pleased ingenue new to the London club scene yet to be jaded by endless rounds of free tables, free drinks, and scores of men begging to dance with her.

So Percy and I introduced ourselves and we talked; about mutual friends, about his label (PPQ), about the gentrification of Shoreditch, while I lifted my glass of champagne and toasted, sardonically, to the strangers on the dance floor. London. "When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life." I don't think so. I still love London, I'm just tired of the same-old same-old parties, the blah nightlife and dying clubs...

Happily, last Saturday a brief respite from London was offered when Percy texted "Be at yours with Benjamin in an hour. We're going to my country house." Of course nobody would tell me where we were going. They did solemnly suggest that they were going to France to sell me into slavery.

Thankfully the truth was far less exciting, we were in fact spending the weekend at P's country house in Ventnor, on the Isle Of Wight. 

Kindly excuse the poor quality of the photos; I left my Leica in London and had to make do with my iPhone. And Photoshop...lots of it.

July 02, 2013

A bit of Isle-Wight (Alright)

I met Percy on Thursday. It was a little past midnight, we were at a table downstairs at Le Baron and I was sitting cross-legged, barefoot...

Wyndstock

On Saturday I went straight from Royal Ascot and embarked on what I can describe as a bit of a mission. An hour and half from Ascot to London Waterloo followed by a half hour tube journey to King's Cross (no Nothern line service, we're ready for the weekend!), and an hour train ride to Stevenage later I was picked up in a car by a very nice young man who I was meeting for the first time. (We were introduced on Facebook by a mutual friend)

And then we went on a three hour drive---shortened to 2 hours thanks to my insisting on singing Disney songs the whole way---to the grounds of Houghton Hall, Norfolk, for a midsummer party of sorts.

June 27, 2013

Wyndstock

On Saturday I went straight from Royal Ascot  and embarked on what I can describe as a bit of a mission. An hour and half from Ascot to Lo...

Royal Ascot

On Saturday I finally broke 'The Ascot Curse', said curse being that for the past 6 years since I've moved to England I've never quite made it to Royal Ascot for the races. Something always happens, it's like the universe is conspiring against me....or maybe it's as simple as 'scheduling problems'. I prefer to think of it as a curse, a little touch of melodrama never hurt anyone, and if not a melodrama Royal Ascot is really a pantomime of show ponies dressed to the nines. Oh, and there are horses too. 

June 25, 2013

Royal Ascot

On Saturday I finally broke 'The Ascot Curse', said curse being that for the past 6 years since I've moved to England I'v...

Balkan So Hard #8 Kotor Old City

The curtain closed on my week of Balkan So Hard adventures with a beautiful sunset in Kotor.

Fatigued by Porto Montenegro's rows of same-y looking yachts, supercars, and overpriced (but delicious!) restaurants that only expats and tourists could afford, H and I wanted a more 'real' experience of Montenegro. We took our most expensive cab ride yet---€15! I love this country!---and left behind the glossy glamour of the port for the old-world charms of the medieval city of Kotor.

June 23, 2013

Balkan So Hard #8 Kotor Old City

The curtain closed on my week of Balkan So Hard   adventures with a beautiful sunset in Kotor. Fatigued by Porto Montenegro's row...

Balkan So Hard #7 Bay Of Kotor

On Monday morning, H nudged me awake.
"Wake up, Disney princess! BK texted. He's taking us for brunch. You have half an hour to get ready." 

Half an hour and a full face of makeup later I was still not quite awake. Grumbling, I dragged myself out the house cursing and wondering why BK couldn't just pick me up from the front door instead of making me walk down to Purobeach.

And then I saw BK and H standing on a speedboat and thought, 
OK, fine, I'll forgive them this one time for making me walk down to the jetty. 

But still, they could've learnt a thing or two from The Wolfpack and landed the boat in the garden.


Like so.

So we left Porto Montenegro and drove to the Bay Of Kotor.

June 22, 2013

Balkan So Hard #7 Bay Of Kotor

On Monday morning, H nudged me awake. "Wake up, Disney princess! BK texted. He's taking us for brunch. You have half an hour to...

Balkan So Hard #6: Purobeach

Despite S insisting we forgo Purobeach for Almara Beach Club not one, but two days in a row I simply had to go, if only to see in person the iconic gazing man.

June 20, 2013

Balkan So Hard #6: Purobeach

Despite S insisting we forgo Purobeach for Almara Beach Club not one, but two days in a row   I simply had to go, if only to see in perso...

Just Flew Back to London.


I miss Montenegro. But it's good to be back.

More backdated Balkan So Hard adventures to come...

xx

June 19, 2013

Just Flew Back to London.

I miss Montenegro. But it's good to be back. More backdated Balkan So Hard adventures to come... xx

Balkan So Hard #5: ONE

Every (party) animal, even on a quiet vacation, needs a watering hole. 
I think I've found the ONE. Quite literally.

June 18, 2013

Balkan So Hard #5: ONE

Every (party) animal, even on a quiet vacation, needs a watering hole.  I think I've found the ONE . Quite literally.

Balkan So Hard #4: Teeing Off

Last Friday I reluctantly peeled myself off the floating bar in Almara Beach Club and dragged my dusty heels to a party of sorts at Lustica BayI had no idea what the event was for. I only vaguely remember hearing the words 'BMW---launch---canapes---champagne---golf---archery'. Archery! Alright then.

June 17, 2013

Balkan So Hard #4: Teeing Off

Last Friday I reluctantly peeled myself off the floating bar in  Almara Beach Club  and dragged my dusty heels to a party of sorts at   Lu...

Balkan So Hard #3: Almara Beach Club

On Friday I expressed my desire to go to Purobeach. S, ever accommodating and in-the-know, rolled his eyes and said "Forget about that. We'll go somewhere with a better view." We bundled into a taxi---I called shotgun---and drove from Porto Montenegro to Oblatno beach, through winding mountain roads that yielded the most breathtaking sights, wide expanse of ocean and sweeping views of Koto.

We arrived at Almara Beach Club, from here on referred to as Paradise.

June 16, 2013

Balkan So Hard #3: Almara Beach Club

On Friday I expressed my desire to go to Purobeach . S, ever accommodating and in-the-know, rolled his eyes and said "Forget about th...

Balkan So Hard #2: Porto Montenegro

I'm staying with a friend in Tivat, a tiny little coastal town in Montenegro, population 14,000. The kind of provincial paradise where you leave your doors unlocked and everyone knows each other by name. I also happen to walk out the house every morning singing Belle's song "Little town...it's a quiet village, everyday like the one before..." but that's just me, I'm a Disney princess on steroids.

Porto Montenegro is more or less my base for the week that I'm here. Enclosed 'within the walls' as the expats put it, it's a tiny but well-formed (that's what I said, hee hee) waterfront development and luxury yacht marina. A parking space for boaties bored of St Tropez and jaded by Monte Carlo, if you will. I predict hipsters with yachts all over Porto Montenegro wearing skinny jhorts and Instagramming their calamari lunch. By the way, my hashtags for Instagram are #BalkanSoHard and #ILiveToSerb. I'm very proud of that.

Thursday morning I dragged my pale London butt out of bed and stumbled ten meters out the door to the beach to join H for breakfast.

June 15, 2013

Balkan So Hard #2: Porto Montenegro

I'm staying with a friend in Tivat, a tiny little coastal town in Montenegro, population 14,000. The kind of provincial paradise where...

Balkan So Hard #1 : Arriving in Tivat

Yesterday afternoon I pulled up in Porto Montenegro.

June 13, 2013

Balkan So Hard #1 : Arriving in Tivat

Yesterday afternoon I pulled up in Porto Montenegro.