Just when you thought you were well and truly, once and for all, never again to be refuted, properly, utterly, all-encompassingly, snugly, soothingly, ever-so-comfily SAFE from my inane virtual whitters; I am BACK! And I bring glad tidings of the ilk that may well raise the odd whoop from the audience: I no longer feel the need to bang on about plane crashes and tropical-disease induced hospitalisation. (That said, I have since self-edited most of the bleakness until everything since early 2008 has been whittled down to the admittedly meagre offerings that are available to read nearby.) (Twizzle eyes ahoy!)
This is a mini one to say a great big "How do?" to you. To send you warmest wishes from a mid-summer autumnal Britain. To tell you that the world has and will keep on a-spinning regardless (please note: image is for guidance only; time is not to scale), and to remind you that that's no baaayad thang. To say that I've had the biggest most beautiful adventures here, there and everywhere: stars, sunsets and so much besides in Sri Lanka; pho pho pho and bus-beds in Vietnam; lingering and languishing in and around Laos; Chiang Mai with chums and temples; irresistible mixed-bag Malaysian escapades; star tattoos, Surinders and Sentosa times in Singapore; meditation and runnings away on Koh Samui; dipping a little toenail in stifling Delhi; then HOME to lovelies and wedding-time and the wowsome door of King's College London swinging open to greet little me.
Grumble not, little heart.
Welsh Bec does Welsh beaching... Ah!
Yes, corner well and truly turned.
With relief and relish and chutney (BAMPOTS) and pickle and every kind of condiment your wee heart could possibly contemplate wanting,
Britain-based Bec of Britain she is based
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