I am still in London.

I am still in London.

My life has widely improved since I bought my bicycle... four days ago. Daily, I gain one hour of sleep and one hour of exercise.

Moreover, I benefit of the well-being provided by exercise. This morning I arrived at the Modern Pantry at 7.20, on time, sweating. I took my working clothes to the bathroom, sat on the toilet and felt the endorphins leaking in my blood: wow. How happy am I to have a bicycle!

On my way home I glanced at Billo Shoes on Kingsland Road and could not resist stopping a few minutes... and leave the shop with two pairs of shoes I should carry towards South Tottenham, beside my backpack, already filled with Waitrose products. The sailor recognizes me as soon as he sees me. He allows me to hide my bike in the back store while I try on half-a-dozen pairs of heels and sandals: “You are the boss.” He advices me about quality, doesn’t let me try shoes he dislikes and helps me choose a colour over another: “I don’t want you to come back here, disappointed with something you bought from me.”

 He carried my bike at the exit of his shop and struggled to fix the bag on my bike: “I don’t want my girlfriend to have an accident.”

Some people still care.

Tonight I went to Milonga Tango in Hackney, the one I used to go with Monica. I sat and watched the intermediate class.

A man took me for a dance, another, and another... I closed my eyes. When I close my eyes, I feel the music deeper, I am not distracted and movements become natural. I can concentrate on my partner’s movement. My eyes always close themselves when I dance.

Once again I was hungry on my way home, thus I grabbed a croissant au chocolat at the bakery of two days ago. The employee recognized me – there must not be a lot of ladies buying pastries there at the middle of the night, wearing a phosphorescent yellow helmet and shirt with a vintage bicycle. He put two croissant in my bag: “One for you and one for me. You can warm up the other so it will be like a fresh one.”

Some people still care.