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In 17 minutes I’ll be 31. That year’s gone quickly. This time last year I was in Venice, sitting in a square out of sight of a canal (an achievement in itself) drinking a vodka and lemonade. That’s something that’s changed - I can’t stand it with lemonade now and have to have tonic - a sure sign of getting old.

We were staying in a hotel just off St Mark’s Square, and I was very glad to be away from Rome, which had annoyed me with its dire public transport system. The next day, as I slipped from 29 to 30 (and so from my third to my fourth decade) it rained, and we spent our whole time hopping from one cafe to another as we made halting progress from the lagoon to the train station by foot and bridge, and then back again by boat and damp seat.

It’s been a busy 12 months since then. So busy, in fact, that I’ve not touched the book since before heading off on that holiday, which is a very bad thing. It still stands at 110,000 words, so I must make an effort to get it finished before I turn 32.

32 sounds very grown up.

I’ve just looked back at what I wrote this day two years ago: 23 September 2002. It sounds eerily familiar:

But… hmmm… there is a lot I haven

If you liked that post, then try these...

Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush on May 29th, 2004

London This Week on December 22nd, 2002

Interesting Ingression Information on March 21st, 2004

Postcard shopping on November 27th, 2003

Goodbye Wendy, Goodbye Sean on October 26th, 2001

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 23rd, 2004 at 11:45 pm and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.