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Hot Danish was still trying to sort out a lift on the morning of his Dutch friend’s wedding. He had to rush out so he asked me to pack everything. We discovered too late that I’d left the memory card … Read more →

Sometimes Hot Danish likes to give himself a pat on the back. During our return train journey from his grandmother’s, passing fields of grazing cows and sheep, he said; ‘I haven’t introduced any other girl to my grandmother. Aren’t I … Read more →

‘Stop telling me to shut up,’ I shouted at Hot Danish mid-row. His phone beeped and he picked it up from the ironing board (his regular Blackberry checking/texting/emailing during our time together has also caused a number of arguments – … Read more →

‘What have you been doing all day?’ Hot Danish wasn’t being judgmental. He was worried I was bored. To be honest I’m enjoying my new routine – I go for a run in the Vondelpark; write a few emails; run … Read more →

Hot Danish chose the restaurant for our Friday evening. ‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘A place which only serves meat,’ he teased. He wasn’t far off. He’d chosen a bar and grill. The service, food and cocktails were all … Read more →

I am regularly being asked if I am going to learn Dutch (I have bought a course book but am currently struggling even to remember the pronunciation of people’s names) and what am I going to do here in Amsterdam.… Read more →

‘It won’t hit you until you get to the airport,’ one of my friends said over dinner at The Hollywood Arms. She was right – it wasn’t until the morning of my flight, when Monique, whom I’d been staying … Read more →

Hot Danish received a few sympathetic looks when he arrived at The Chelsea Ram – he was carrying a couple of work folders and a heavy box. He hadn’t been fired. Inside the box were his farewell gifts (most of … Read more →

Hot Danish and I were discussing relationships recently after returning from watching one of the Euro matches in the pub when he made a sweeping generalisation: ‘Women in their 30s are less fussy.’ I had two comebacks. One: that doesn’t … Read more →

Liz, Natasha and I headed to The Botanist for a couple of drinks on Saturday evening. Before long an Irishman made a beeline for Liz, commenting on her gorgeous ‘40s look and blue eyes. He made sure to include Natasha … Read more →