For those of you who don’t know, last week I moved to a little place called London.
Exciting yes, but pretty scary for a girl who feels most at home amongst the Derbyshire Dales. Admittedly, I was a little dubious about my first week. How would I feel? Would I be home sick for the rolling hills? Would I burst into tears if one more person barged me on the tube? I didn’t have time to worry.
First, the boyfriends 25th birthday. A beautiful sunshine filled BBQ, with old fashioned lemonade & homemade cake (blue velvet this time round). Not stopping to catch my breath, myself and my best friend (other wise affectionately known as ‘the wife’) made an early start to the weekend at The Natural History Museum. We spent hours pulling faces at taxidermy and gazing at bones. Afterwards, we headed to the river and strolled along South Bank for lunch, walking towards the Tate Modern to meet the boy and his family for the Miro exhibition. In the evening, the whole gang went out for dinner at an amazing Italian in Tooting Bec, where we all ate and drank ourselves into a happy food coma.
Everything up to this point had been wonderful and I could have quite easily finished the week on a high. That is until I received a phone call from my housemate who works for The One Show. She tells me that the current Doctor, one Matt Smith, is being interviewed tomorrow…and would I like to go along? HELL YES! 110% awesomeness achieved! And so, I went. I drank wine in the green room, watched a live broadcast and met arguably one of the sweetest and most watched actors on the BBC right now. And he even signed my ridiculous vintage TARDIS money box. Bless him.