(listen to the podcast ici!)

I’m here, Paris; staring at a blank page with a fatigue after moving from my Wimbledon flat onto a 2-bed boat in Chelsea recently – yeah, really, what did the universe see in me? I didn’t get to rest in London; there was always something to do and sort out and I was happy to get it done, but as soon as I arrived in Paris and had my 11pm snails at a local bistrot filled with chatty neighbours – I love it, my body seemed to believe that it was now safe to ‘shut down’.  

It was a last-minute decision to spend my birthday here – thanks to my daughter once again for saying “you should be in Paris” about 27 hours before – quietly as I like it. It was quiet and relaxing, with me managing to calm my excitable Jonny down all day – just about, and with him spoiling me by allowing me to do whatever I wanted just like any other day:

I ate one and three quarters pains au chocolat and one and a half croissant for breakfast (this is actually highly unusual but a girl had a craving), opened my wonderful presents (what is this, Christmas? And if the podcast today sounds cleaner and more professional, you know who to blame), showered at three, picked up another present from a local vintage jewellery shop, took the metro across the city and had (a lot of) the best Tunisian lamb couscous and tajine at Chez Hamadi near my first flat in Paris, had a digestive walk along the river in the Latin quarter, went to Theatre Bouffon in Jaurès to see a mask play in the evening, dragged my drowsy body back home, left the champagne from the parents unopened in the fridge, and fell asleep.

Apart from his constant restrained (by me) whispered screams of “happy birthday, baby!” he managed to make it feel like it was a normal day for me so I might let him be around me for my next birthday. I can’t do much about the presents – he randomly gets me those every now and then. And as for champagne, I trickle it down my throat whenever I want anyway. Wow – for someone who doesn’t think it necessary to celebrate her own birthday she had a lot to say about it!

I’m just grateful, Paris. On the boat I have created a tiny corner with a desk, a red Anglepoise lamp, a few cherished books (three of them my own) and a Freewrite Traveler, where the poet feels so at home for the first time in a very long time and has typed 22 poems in Indonesian and English within three days in preparation for the republishing of my second book published 20 years ago. 44 to go and I haven’t written a new one for a month – I’m not that prolific, you’re welcome! Who cares about the ‘boaty’ problems – water supply, drainage, power trips, Thames Clippers passing and making waves – when I can think loudly and peacefully in between getting my hands dirty, or wet usually!

I’m grateful that the kids are fine with my tentative life and have even promised, again, to do a sketch or a painting each as a present – what are artists like when being commissioned! I’m grateful for my friends old and new who have witnessed and are still witnessing my journey gracefully having not been invited to my birthday party once. I’m grateful for my mildly-annoying boyfriend who says he loves me every day and often proves it. Though mostly in my mind, I’m grateful that exactly one year after my return to you we’re still walking the cobble streets together – joyeux anniversaire to us!

paris, le 12 octobre 2025

je t’embrasse!

d.o.

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