For the next little while in London I am going to be living life out of a suitcase… a gypsy life.
It’s a question of timing… moving out… finding a new home… waiting for a renovation to be complete… moving in.
This kind of thing takes synchronisation and somehow the cogs are crunching ever so slightly.
London is as much home for me as is Provence so to find myself with a suitcase and no fixed address is rather unusual.
It’s also kind of fun.
Hotel life… free of responsibility.
I have been living between London and Provence for nearly 15 years… my children are all in London and my husband works here… and yet I am suddenly a tourist in this town.
Truthfully, at first it was very off-putting. A gypsy life is not for me.
I am a homebody… creature comforts and familiarity mean the world to me.
The memorabilia of life gives me great security.
As we all know, things don’t go according to plan.
So it’s a gypsy life for me for the next few weeks… or months.
I am going to embrace it… enjoy the lack of baggage… and carry the excess baggage.
I might be a gypsy, but this gypsy carries her home on her back… snail like.
When I am away from home, there are certain can’t-live-without items that have to accompany me.
Like… my pillow and a cashmere shawl, to lay over the bed or to keep cosy with.
A scented candle… the Cire Trudon Giambatista Valli Positano is my latest crush.
My Neroli bath oil… because scents remind me of home.
A few favourite books and the latest fashion magazines.
Life’s simple luxuries.
And my beauty routines… I can’t be without those.
Have you ever lived a gypsy life?
Am I the only overly sensitive traveller who needs elements of the familiar around her?
