Now I know what you’re thinking. Who in their right mind gets their flight details wrong by two days? Two days! We’re bonkers. Check out yesterday’s post for more…
I have missed some flights in my time, but never (almost) turned up two days early. That would just be silly.
The downside-aside from confusing the hotel staff and checking in for two more nights instead of checking out, saying all our goodbyes and doing all our packing is the things we were supposed to be doing today and tomorrow.
It was supposed to be full steam ahead with London living. We had a book launch tonight. Two in fact. A dinner tomorrow. Meetings meetings meetings.
I was supposed to have my hair done (a month in the sun and in the pool has taken its toll) and I was going to go coat shopping for snow walks.
On the plus side, of course, is the fact that we get two more days. Two days! Naughty, stolen days. Time to squeeze in an extra boat ride. Another temple… Or much more likely, to do just one final bit of tanning.
I never thought of myself as a sun worshipper really. When I was, ahem, younger, my tan came out of a bottle. Throughout most of my early twenties I was fluorescent. You could see me and Donatella from space. The St Tropez years with that distinct smell and patchy ankles, followed by a shockingly cheap alternative in Paris which turned the sheets chocolatey and frightened the firemen who worked over the road and could see into my bedroom-lucky them.
After a pale and interesting phase, I swapped the grey of Glasgow for a much more Mediterranean glow. Living in the South of France may have left me culture poor but I’ve got a rocking tan. A real one. A natural one. Aside from a bit of competitive tanning for a wedding, I don’t try to tan. But I’m outside all the time. Wearing as little as possible (if I can).
And I do wear sunscreen. A bit. Most days. But not every day. Which is bad.
When a friend came to visit and asked for some protection (!) I offered her everything from factor 6 right through to factor zero which I guess is just butter.
But I think tans are back. I’m judging this entirely on the fact I will be returning to London with one and that my (old) pal Ms Versace has gone for a super tan look for the Spring/Summer 2013 campaign…
Okay so it’s almost alien tan but whatevs. These images are going straight onto my Pinterest tanning mood board. (Note to self. Start bloody using bloody Pinterest).
But in reality I don’t want to be that weird blue tan. Much. So my big new year’s resolution was to wear sunscreen. All the time! Under my clothes. In bed. In Tesco. Just in case. And I have been wearing factor 30 every day in Egypt…. On my face at least.
So maybe in these two extra days I will wear it all over which will totally undo all the gorgeous damage I’ve done to my skin. The damage that makes me look healthier. Feel healthier. Feel slimmer. Feel fabulicious.
