Beyond Selidor

It was gorgeous (but yes, we definitely do not have the money for it to be a regular thing; thankfully I will only turn forty once in my life, haha). The people-watching was indeed spectacular, both in the hotel, and back in Moreton-in-Marsh on the Friday. (When I was in the sauna, I was sitting next to an older (white) guy who told me, after some small talk, that he had been born in Uganda and his brother had been born in Sri Lanka — obviously the children of Empire-building colonial administrators, like something from a bygone century.)