Waking up, fretting over the pandemic and listening to the Premier is a daily routine. As is wading through the political dreck and hackneyed takes that follow soon thereafter.
The last time I travelled to Mexico, I weaved my way through neighbouring Guatemala. The only problem was explaining who my guide was to customs.
With a pandemic sweeping across the globe, I’m wondering if this is the moment when we finally realise how fortunate we are.
Once upon a time, I was the chauffeur of a lady of the British upper classes. It didn’t go well.
It’s an age-old question. Why do those who ghost you still haunt the halls of your social media?