Catching the tail end of Copenhagen summer.

Copenhagen, again, always.

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I have been away from this blog way for way too long.

What started out as a one-month break from writing to “collect myself together” after somewhat traumatising few months has turned into a ten-month long case of a writer’s block.

My last post was 1 January this year.

In my defense, I did try to come back at the one-month mark. I have an unfinished draft from February as proof – and by “draft” I meant that I clicked on the  “new post” button and failed to come up with a title nor a single word to write. I even tried writing about my writer’s block in May, which was supposed to help writers get the words flowing again, but that didn’t help either.screenshot

I have even travelled to London (and Birmingham) in the meantime, but even they didn’t inspire me to write again.

It took a trip to my most beloved city Copenhagen to get things started again. The moment I landed at Kastrup Airport, I was miraculously already itching to write.

I have lost count of how many times I have been to the Danish capital. Yet, every single time, Copenhagen still finds new ways to charm me.

I came right at the end of the summer. Or as some people told me when I was there, summer returned for a few days just to greet me.

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You’re welcome the inhabitants of Copenhagen, for the extra days of warmth and sunshine.

Continue reading “Catching the tail end of Copenhagen summer.”

The first (and hopefully not last) English summer.

Some change in the weather, and a little more.

Summer was in its full force the past few weeks in London. The temperature went up to a whopping 31C, and the East Asian roots in me would soon take out my purple and flowery anti-UV umbrella out of fear of getting tanned (and wrinkles).

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Guess whose umbrella is that.

I took advantage of the rare glorious weather to do a lot of walks all over. I explored the streets of the City of London, from St Paul’s churchyard to little alleys filled with bars and cafes often overflowing with lawyers and bankers in their work dresses and suits, beer in hand. I also ventured further into my neighbourhood, up to my favourite Primrose Hill and then went as far as the Parliament Hill at Hampstead Heath (finally).

Continue reading “The first (and hopefully not last) English summer.”