while I dream of barcelona, I give you the english riviera

English Riviera
Originally uploaded by gorgeoux

In between Exeter and Plymouth, the train goes along the English Riviera (Torbay). I enjoyed it twice last week-end, and more so because I had no idea it was out there; sunny mornings and pink sunsets are always welcomed surprises in my life. I chose this piece of music (Danza Espanola, Op. 37, H. 142 - XII. Arabesca) because the area reminds me of the train ride on Costa Brava (Spain) and I'm in the middle of planning our escape to Barcelona. While this is not the greatest video yet, it should give you an idea of what I enjoy (and why waking up at 6 a.m. pays off sometimes), as well as what a simple camera and an easy to use processing software can do in thirty minutes.

new arrival: rays of sunshine

rays of sunshine, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Here goes the first tickseed/ coreopsis that bloomed in our balcony, making it sunnier than London would have it. A pleasure to have these flowers around since they're my summer favourite and there's no way to buy them, otherwise. A lucky find to brighten our lives for months and months.

before I could reach for my camera

A large, colourful bird like a hen of long tail was strolling calmly in the field, metres away in the sunset. And then they were four, picking at the grass randomly. Four pheasants.

A suspect somersault in the tall grass. A second one behind it, like a delayed tridimensional shadow. Two rabbits playing away. Then four, and then six. Happy and fluffy.

A black woman with the body of an athlete and the simplest, yet most sophisticate business clothes: high heeled sandals, slightly golden, cappuccino skirt, flared, a bit shiny, crisp shirt, toothpaste white, tucked in to expose a perfect abdomen, its long sleeves a wee bit flared. Floating on the street with her perfect make up, perfect hairdo, perfect suitcase, and a tiny dark gold carrier bag from Macy's. An American in London.

A minute away, a blond woman that hardly had time to brush her hair, wearing long, black linen trousers, a black top, and black flip-flops. Carrying a large black handbag that can hide the office high heels and discarded beer glasses, stomping along the sidewalk. An English in London.

A tiny, dynamic Latin woman walking with a tall, quiet Asian woman in search of a drink in Soho. A perfect body in the shortest dress. A perfect body in the longest dress. A Portorican of tight trousers and shiny hair, long to his bottom. A casually dressed surfer of exquisite accessories. A tall old man walking his bike in shorts alone, shorts that look like boxers. An executive in his forties and a suit, followed by a boy in his kakis and his teens. The world keeps turning.

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729, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Speeding up. Still in the background. On the road, UK

chez gorgeoux: tomatoe bread for the morning

tomatoe bread, morning bread, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Yesterday evening I put together this amazing new bread once its promise crossed my mind: plum tomatoes, baby leeks, and basil leaves. It came out bang on, feeding both my mind and my tummy this morning, and I'm making an effort not to go back to the drawer for more right now. I'm also making an effort to recall not to press the baking program button on the machine next time, but the kneading one: the breadmaker takes ages to bake; my tray and oven combo's so much better.

gold clouds and moonstones for the modern princess

gold clouds & moonstone necklace. Karakola, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

I've fallen in love with Karakola
jewellery in January this year and my only complaint ever since has been that I cannot yet afford it. I came across her Garland by chance and instantly desired it; I can't remember the last time I laid eyes on a piece of jewellery so simple, yet so striking. I imagined wearing it as a necklace, in more ways than one, and as bracelet, too—perhaps every day.

The designer behind this brilliant invention is Karola Torkos, a woman decided to give noble metals unique and versatile forms. Only recently has she tapped into adding beads to her creations and I find it an inspiring endeavour once again: here's my favourite necklace from her show at Coutts London Jewellery Week (June 2008, first ever), gold clouds and moonstone beads. Just like the garland, these gold clouds will change shape whenever you wish, as if you had a brand new necklace each time. Why not turn them into flowers? One day my budget will finally befriend Karakola; I'll know I invested in a piece that will startle and enchant my admirers for a lifetime.

Prices vary and Karola suggests you contact her for a quote; I guess, more so for the very young moonstone necklace. There are a few indicative prices on Object Fetish, though.

This post has been initially published as a guest writer on Chloe's blog, Her Accessories and then on Splendicity.

728

728, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

The lily of the valley efect. Bucharest, Romania

chez gorgeoux: make do with what's around, and what a find

baked fennel, crisp bacon & fresh apple, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

We've canceled all the food deliveries, organic or not. We've found ways to not break our hands with carrier bags each time we're in a cool food aisle. We've filled countless jars with many pastas, rices, dried this and dried that. We've even taken serious action to keep our fridge sexy—or, as my tired self put it last evening during the picnic in the park, keep our sex fridgy (God forbid! or, for the Romanian reader, Doamne apara si pazeste!). We've yet to learn to make do with what's around, to make do beautifully again and again.

Though working at home is a bliss and the interruption of cooking lunch or dinner is as blissful, rarely do I stop to ask: could this be any better? On a day I did, last week, it urned out it could. Better yet, baked fennel, apples, and bacon were all we had around. Plus the odd lemon. Enter the tasty, tasty salad that convinced me I haven't looked good enough at fennel, though there were the soup and the first salad and the second salad. I want to start a fennel quest. Provided we remember to buy fennel. If only to make this third salad again and again.

new arrival: sunny kalanchoe

sun on sunny kalanchoe, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

There was the unexpected arrival of the first kalanchoe and there was this looping whine of mine: can we just go to Columbia Road Flower Market the next Sunday we're at home? And then there was the first Sunday we were at home, and I slept late because that's what I want to do, in fact, every morning, but can't. The second Sunday at home it rained horribly. The third Sunday at home we went to a concert. The fourth Sunday at home wasn't at home at all because all of a sudden I wanted to wake up at 6 a.m. and jump on a train. By the time I couldn't see a potential fifth Sunday at home in the calendar and the feeble summer seemed to be running through my fingers, I gave in and took a stroll to the only decent flower shop in the neighbourhood, desperate to get a baby with flowers, or more. Mission accomplished. Though I couldn't resist one without flowers, and kalanchoe wasn't what I had in mind, and that fourth Sunday? I ended up buying more plants with and without flowers. For what is a girl to do with her balcony but green it?

overheard on the street

Just don't let her see it on your face, yeah? Sweat your hands, mate! Was she a teacher? A lover? A landlord? A boss? A gym instructor? A nun? A scientologist? A colleague? A flatmate? A mother?

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727, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Mission aborted. Ha Noi, Viet Nam

what a glorious day!

By noon today I had already done a handful of things I love: had extensive cuddling, made and drank coffee (the home brew is so good that last Saturday we filled a flask with it before traveling first class, which fact brought about being called normals by my love's sister), ate walnut bread, Romanian salami, and strawberries (largest, sweetest, reddest, juiciest yet this year), did serious gardening, introduced my love to one of my all time favourite pieces (since the music teacher used the vinyl to show us how to recognise the sound of many instruments in an orchestra), Maurice Ravel's Bolero (part I and part II on YouTube as directed by Herbert von Karajan's in 1985) and remembered with equal joy Maya Plisetskaya's Bolero (part I and part II on YouTube as coreographed by Maurice Bejart in 1976), which inspired me to master my body while dancing.

The best of all, perhaps, was finishing all my gardening for the year: filling all our previously empty pots, arranging them om the balcony, freeing space on shelves, reshaping a few existing plants and planting many new babies bought over the week-end or queuing for my attention for months now, like arum lily/ calla, early sunrise/ coreopsis (my all time favourite simple flowers), fuchsia thymifolia (Mexico-Guatemala area), myrtle/ myrtus (the colour of its flowers is still a surprise), euphorbia cyparissias/ cypress spurge and cycas revoluta/ sago palm (a cute, very slow-growing Japanese palm that isn't really a palm). Enchanted and entertained, I then started working, and I will argue until the end of time that the best way to go about life is playing before work and not only afterwards. Ideally, in fact, even during work, if not instead of it.

726

726, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

I don't know. Bucharest, Romania

every other morning

I'm barely awake when he starts talking. I certainly have no voice. When I try to shush him, I'm as successful as a fledgling bird. Significantly less articulate, less loud than a newborn child. He keeps waffling. Annoyed, having hushed the alarm already, I lock him into a blind embrace, like one would draw nearer a cat that rose before the sunrise only to pester one awake.

"You'd like me to shut up", he says. "But this is nothing compared to what you're doing at night."

I hug him closer and push his head towards my breast to quiet him through either affection or temptation. He adjusts his face so that he's comfortable and breathing.

"Right when I'm falling asleep, you're suddenly going Tell me about your business plan again."

I laugh. I have no voice, but I laugh. He's just amused me into awareness.

"Or, rather, I've come across a problem with Einstein's relativity theory that I must run by you."

"At least you can't complain my chatter isn't intellectual."

He laughs. That was it, that was my voice. I'm whole again, I'm up. He won. Just like I win when my waffle puts him to sleep much faster than his charged brain would otherwise allow. We're a win-win, I kid you not.

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725, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Rice field. On the road, Viet Nam

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724, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Aren't you funny! London, UK

this week on my professional blog

I have started updating my professional blog more seriously. Also, I have begun the lengthy process of moving across the relevant posts, published here over the years. It's hard to believe that my company is almost five years old; almost as hard as believing that it's not even my first company, or that my blog is almost three years old. All that counting aside, here's what took my fancy in the past week of the working life:

Friday reading: intelligent life
Wednesday reading: death to lorem ipsum & other adventures in content
Monday crossroads: becoming a designer, first

weekly earthquake

weekly earthquake
Originally uploaded by gorgeoux

I've explained several times at least—an itsy bitsy obsession there?—that our washing machine is close to bringing the building down; just like any other washing machine in this house, it takes off like a helicopter during its spin cycle. Here's a video to prove it, my first Flickr upload of the kind. Now that this is sorted, I expect the following ones to be more artistic and less boring. The whole editing and saving process has been very easy thanks to iMovie, so you may understand my temptation.

new arrival: umbrella tree

umbrella tree, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Yesterday I went out decided to bring home new babies. They were supposed to be colourful by means of flowers, and resistant. Well, I couldn't resist the umbrella tree though I've never seen one pop flowers. Resistance it has, as one exemplar lives successfully on rain alone, forgotten on the little terrace in the back of the house—when I leave this place, it will go with me, of course. Until then, I wanted my own, smaller version, and accepted that colourful in this case will be the pot, bought at Easter time in Ipswich. Now the teapot isn't lonely either, and the left corner of the balcony pleases my heart. To understand my level of craziness, I also got this one because it is a darker green and variegated version, unlike the one outside. Because they will live together one day, right? And you want them complementary, right? You want some variety, right? A tinsy umbrella tree collection of sorts. Even more pleasing to the heart.

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723, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Ministry? London, UK

chez gorgeoux: my first onion soup

red onion soup, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

It tasted as good as it looks, and for once I was able to cook just enough soup to serve two and leave room for a second dish. Also, it turned out so easy to make that I can't wait for another go, next time I have too many onions around and 45 minutes to kill. Another benefit? I finally managed to add flour to a dish without messing everything up. Here's looking at me!

my favourite things: shiny pins

golden doggie pin, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

This is to show how cute the similar owl must've been, and how useful in keeping closer too revealing a cleavage at times. The owl was maybe one third as big, and of even finer detail. This doggie is maybe the size of half a thumb. Both were rather inspired March 1st gifts from my cousin, in Romania, but it took me years to reach that point of view, or that size of cleavage rather. Now the poor shiny doggie is lonely, as no other pins match it. What a sad, sad story!

street finds: even more coins, and festival catch

even more coins, and festival catch, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Here's the new street (and festival grass) catch (in case the little plastic bag and the green fire lighter weren't obvious new style items). As for what I lost, there was a tiny, pretty, shiny pin in my top, and I was left with the back, uninteresting bit of it after making my way through a huge crowd with two, almost intact, pints of Carlsberg. With thousands of people at Lovebox and Manu Chao just starting to make us jump in front of the main stage, the threatening, stormy clouds just gone, there was no way to find a cute little owl pin of white and green rhinestones. It is dearly missed, and I can only hope that it is dearly loved by a new owner instead of dead forever inside some garbage bin. RIP.

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722, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

From a distance. Paris, France

monica dean, wassup?

Monica Dean in Cannes, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

There was a time when I got really excited with Monica Dean (here, here, and here), a Romanian TV star that proved a good actor, out of the blue, in The Death of Mr. Lazarescu, the Romanian movie amassing 22 awards so far, including Cannes' Un Certain Regard (2005) and BBC Four's World Cinema Award (2007).

I was, in truth, excited with Monica Dean moving to Hollywood, taking acting classes, and making it to the Lost series—mainly due to her looks, I'd guess. But what happened before and after that? She actually debuted in Buds for Life (2004), a comedy rated 8.4 on iMDB that I've yet to see; not bad, it'd seem. After her appearance in Lost, however, she played in no less than five horrendous movies, and only scored a brief role in Nip/Tuck.

It is only these days that I'm getting interested in Monica Dean again, as she's starring in Out of the Night next to Peter O'Toole, among others. The movie is in production, which may mean we'll be seeing it soon, yet there's hardly any detail about it online. Hmm. Anyway, can she act?

why you shouldn't write marketing e-mails before the first coffee

Hi Ms. Mirona Iliescu, I'm Amelia from SocialMatic Team. I've came across your site [...] under the blog category "Nutrition" at BlogFlux and I'm would like to inform you that your site are interesting and worth sharing to other users online. Hence I would like to invite you to join the SocialMatic network and hope you can share your favorite sites and bookmarks through SocialMatic. [...]

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721, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Quiet corner. London, UK

amen!

One thing about technology, is that it tends to make people generally lazy about their levels of commitment. Alexandra Deschamps-Sonsino in a post titled personal ubiquity.

chez gorgeoux: dinner star gives encore at lunch time

rice noodles, zucchini, spring onion, roast pine nuts, mint leaves, chili, coconut & lime, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

One night last week we were, for reasons now unclear, in a veggie mood, so I threw together this salad with love: a handful of rice noodles, two zucchini fried-steamed in the smallest bit of oil, two spring onions, plenty fresh mint leaves, plenty roast pine nuts (a pleasure to make, but fast to brown), coconut and chili flakes, a touch of olive oil and the juice of half a lime, plus a sprinkle of turmeric, ginger powder, and sea salt. It was divine!

What's it called? No idea. I followed no recipe, not that you can recognise recipes once I'm done with them. The only temptation higher than messing with recipes is turning one good dish into another good dish, and I got to do it the day after, when lunch had to be tasty, simple, and quick as a wink. The remains of the initial salad met a crisp lettuce and the hot paprika salami, another touch of olive oil, another half of lime, and sea salt. Again, divine!

lettuce, salami, rice noodles, zucchini, spring onion, chili, coconut & lime, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

oh, dear, he called me a munchkin

And that? That was the last drop. I've read, heard, and overheard munchkin these days so many times that now I'm bound to call everything, yes, indeed, a munchkin. You've been warned.

720

720, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

That way? London, UK

mmm, mmm, so true

Sartorialist: Sometimes the business of running a blog can affect the day-to-day of blogging.

chez adrideo: bacon sandwich at lunch time

bacon sandwich from the grill, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

This is the humble (peasant?) and yet so tasty food we enjoyed today on the balcony, in the sun, at lunch time. For a brief time it felt like November again, and then it slowly turned into April and May so we're going to rush to the park for another picnic while November stays away for a bit longer. As for his favourite thing here, I'm still undecided in between these amazing bacon sandwiches and the high pitch of the fire alarm going off each time he grills something—forgetting that we have a fire alarm, a loud fire alarm, and a record usage of it, too. Also, a sash window.

over the rainbow

Sitting next to me in the bus (or was it a restaurant car?) Monique showed me a note in beautiful handwriting, attesting that she was to visit both the Lieutenant and the Colonel for one hour each. They were rather amazing tailors, and notorious rivals. I wondered aloud why she needed them.

"I need proper dresses now" she answered with a smiling nod. "What with receptions and all that."

"But why only one hour each?" I asked. "Are they that fast in measuring and sewing?!"

"No, silly" laughed Monique. "I'm going to tea so that they can meet me and hopefully like me."

It made a lot of sense until I woke up, and so did the whole rest of the dream last night.

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719, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Holiday. Nha Trang, Viet Nam

chez gorgeoux: 'tis the season to wear purple tongues

yummy blueberries, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Because I can't say no to berries, and especially new found love, blueberries. I know I could actually cook with them, or turn them into jam and syrup/ cordial, but so far I've been more than happy to pop them raw and use them in cocktails.

street finds: more coins come my way

more coins come my way, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Though no five pound note found me yet, the latest collection does amount to 1.34 pounds and some beads, most of them useless. The cute monster badge would go on my pouch, with the others, unless it were dirty and rusty. Already amassing the next finds, and so far it looks like nearly double this lot's value. Though I did suffer a loss to be unveiled next time, so I don't know who's winning, in the long term. Perhaps the girl who picked up my lost item.

classic delights: plenty pink petals

plenty pink petals, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Once the bad aphids were pushed back for good, more roses bloomed in our potted garden.

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718, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Missing in action. London, UK

on our table: colourful weeds

colourful weeds, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Spotted in the Regent's Park one evening this week when the sun called for a picnic in tall grass.

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717, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Layers. London, UK

all that sets women apart and brings them together

London - buttons, detail on jeans, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

This year alone, I've documented woman outfits on camera in London, Paris, Viet Nam and Singapore. Amazing how much they can have in common and yet how they manage to differentiate themselves! Whenever I have the odd sitting around waiting, or having a drink by myself, I can't stop watching the world go buy and, in the case of women, think: What a dame! What a riot! What an idea! And then again: What a trend with the black and white stripes this summer! What a miracle that polka dots stayed! What a coincidence! Many times regardless of what catwalks suggested for that season in that part of the world, I give you my inspiration ladies in some 60 photos... this far. The set will keep updating, rest assured.

similar shapes: what do to do, what to do?

similar shapes, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Thankful I needn't choose, for I couldn't—I change my mind every other minute. Alexander McQueen's stiletto-heeled sandals vs. DSquared2's bejeweled strappy sandals, as seen on Manolo's Shoe Blog a while ago. What would you pick, and why?

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716, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Two faces. London, UK

there went the first wedding

Jade & Oliver's wedding, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

At the wedding last Saturday, the two ladies you see on the left hand side were among the very few people dressed better than for a picnic, unless you count the bride (sweet low key, notice the dress and the bouquet that never got thrown—or was I smoking too much?) and one of the bridesmaids (right corner, on the lawn, shiny fuchsia dress). One woman in three wore a fascinator, which created very amusing hen or cabbage pictures in my mind, and only one, as shown, a hat. Don't get me wrong: fascinators are fine, just like any other headpiece (cloth, shoe, etc.), when they suit you. Like those magnificent red shoes suited that simple green dress.

Bottom line: I've seen a couple of nice pairs of shoes, a lot of men in kilts (whether Scottish by birth or by studies), and, overall, men better dressed than women, either those sitting at what's known as the top table or guests. I'm sure anyone could see me from a mile because I had a long, shiny, pink, vintage coat over my dress, so instead of being fine or in tune, I was standing out. Good. I know what to expect from the next three weddings now, though more people from London will come and they may plan to dress at least as good as they do when going to the office.

Before I make this post entirely about fashion (I think it was the chic that truly lacked), let me say that yes, that is peacock, rather bored with us as it must've attended too many receptions over the years. And, yes, that is an old car, which makes sense when the National Motor Museum is within driving distance—the wedding took place and the guests were accommodated in various places around the New Forest. As well, yes, that is a ride in a tiny steam train, while we all listened to songs enjoyed by the happy couple. And that caged thing next to the train is a tree (of many) planted by Liz in the large Exbury Gardens belonging to the Rothschild family.

While we're at it, and because I love all things counter-intuitive, I must insist that the wedding hasn't been posh; perhaps aspirational. Or am I spoiled by the Romanian habits? Foremost, it hasn't been a wedding for young people, in style, though one needed vast resources of energy to spend the first half of the day (church at 11 a.m.) waiting for the party, eating next to nothing, and drinking much too much dangerously sweet champagne, and the second part of the day (3-4 p.m. onwards)—queuing for food, drinking some more, and dancing until midnight. Instead of dancing, I strolled in the gardens among lilies taller than me, smoking, enjoying the rare ray of sun, and praying it would all be over as fast as the buffet food vanished. It didn't happen.

I don't know when I started hating weddings so much, but the first English one didn't help change the situation. I recall enjoying weddings at 4 y.o. (when it was about strangely elaborate ballet-gymnastics solos on the dance floor and bossing older boys around) and 11 y.o. (when it was about the bestest outfit already, and dancing with even older boys). Everything that followed was... yack, as far as I haven't already deleted the memory of it. It's hard to count just how many weddings I managed to avoid, some purposely, some because of earlier, firmer plans—thank God!

Imagine me last Saturday having to stand up and sit down, stand up and sit down, stand up and sit down every time we switched from singing (hymns, but not me) to listening in the church and from listening to clapping in the marquee (tent sounds so uncool, they thought). That's the essence of an English wedding for me: stand up, sit down. By now, you'd have asked several times: Isn't there anything you liked? Anything at all? There is: one of several bridesmaids of complex responsibilities (main, chief, etc.) read Us Two (Winnie the Pooh can always charge me a tear) in the church, an A. A. Milne poem she'd slightly modified for the bride and groom.

Then she got drunk at the party, shown her husband the finger, and thus made him dance.

it's been a while: more things mirona

Mirona, originally uploaded by mono vattier.

It seems I share the name with this device in New York; how cool is that?

Alice Chess Set, originally uploaded by CSM Product Design 08.

It seems I share the name with a material that turns transparent when light shines through it.

La Mirona , originally uploaded by Oh darling~.

It seems I share the name (and big eyes?) with la mirona = the watcher, staring girl (Spanish).

Best yet, though unrelated, this story about the Miro player: When Democracy Player launched back in February 2006, the feedback received was that the name evoked different, yet equally negative responses. For many Americans it conjured up an image of yet another left wing media project, and to the rest of the world it was, rather bizarrely, being associated with the policies of the Bush administration. In contrast, the new name is purposely abstract. (source)

Because, as we've learned, Miro means nothing in Spanish, not even the name of a painter.

in search of the perfect bed

second day, second bed, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Having lived for a year in this flat already, it feels like our quest for the perfect bed takes a bit too long. The landlord had a silly, cheap divan in here that broke our backs for free night after night after night. The nth day in the row when we woke up more tired than we'd gone to bed, we had enough. The quest started the following week-end, with desperation and dedication.

We tried countless mattresses and beds in many shops down Tottenham Court Road, and ended up at John Lewis, exhausted and hopeful. There, the best mattress we could afford was special: handmade and to be delivered in eight weeks. We made the reservation payment and braced ourselves; a bed was still needed, and theirs were ugly and/ or expensive.

My long hours of online search paid off, eventually, when deciding to visit Warren Evans in Camden, as they build reasonably priced, proper wooden beds to order, deliver them within a week, install them in a few minutes and also take away the bad or dead item filling your room. On top, they're kind, sweet, and fun, and our lovely bed is guaranteed for ten years now.

Once the amazing mattress arrived—we painfully counted the nights—we had to find a way to protect it, because it's been a fortune and we expect it to last, as it should, a lifetime. We used our previous mattress cover until it drove us nuts by slipping in either direction and taking the sheets away with it. Oversize does that, so off it went, and so did we, looking for another.

The first buy, a John Lewis again, turned out to be a simple thin cotton sheet that is rather amusing than protective. That one got swapped a few days ago with a new, thicker cotton and wool mattress cover from the same shop, and while our sheets don't run away anymore, our sensitive backs are pained once more; a night did it, but we pursed our lips and had three.

It will come off, of course, and we'll sleep well, once again, on the unprotected mattress in danger of not lasting a lifetime now. Yet certainly not damaging us either. We're lost for ideas: we tried natural in all shapes and fabrics, and we can't go for anything plasticky for fear of ruining all good investment in the other, more important, elements of the story.

Meanwhile, various beds across Europe increased our horror, as not even boutique and five stars hotels know what a good bed is, or what goose feathers mean in a pillow. Yes, we are fussy, and we're ready to pay for that while away from home, hoping that as soon as we return, we'll sleep like a king and queen again. And then, we slept in five beds in Viet Nam and a sixth in Singapore.

Two beds at five stars Evason Ana Mandara & Six Sense Spa in Nha Trang, one bed at above-five-stars Six Senses Hideaway in Ninh Van Bay, one bed at simple, maybe-three-stars Heart Hotel in Ha Noi, one bed in a random, perhaps-two-stars junk (boat) floating on the South China Sea and one final bed at five-stars-methinks Mandarin Oriental. Weren't we in heaven!

Regardless of stars (or their absence), regardless of bed frames and bed stands (from wood to rattan), Asia doesn't compromise on mattresses. And that powerful, comforting memory is likely to make me cry today, when my back upsets me and we don't know what tonight or tomorrow will bring. Wishfully, a strike of inspiration if not the perfect mattress cover falling from the skies.

second iBath

I took another bath today—am I spoiled!—and investigated the iPod Touch some more. I was quite taken aback by its battery dieing after maybe three hours of use in two days, altogether. It reminded me of mobile phones' batteries running low fast once you leave the Bluetooth on—why is it that best battery life to day still implies Li-Ion? Why hasn't that technology moved on? It did charge fast afterwards, the device, so I won't whine too long. In other news, I had fun using its Remote app to play songs off the mini through iTunes, and chose a punchy Blondie album to celebrate yet another November day in London. Then I spent a little time trying out another app, Writing Pad, which allows you to write words by tracing them on the keyboard. The idea is so beautiful and simple! Writing on the iPod Touch does mean you move your finger from one letter to another, thus creating a shape. Unfortunately, shape writing doesn't help with blogging, just notes and e-mail, so I don't see myself practice further. I tried to send a tweet but, while the Twitter page looked OK, there was no countdown for characters and that felt strange. Still in two minds, and posting this from Zoey.