Monte Carlo, Lazy Mornings & Darren Sightings (Yes, Plural)

 I had the most glorious lie-in this morning - the kind where you wake up, see the light sneaking through the curtains, and decide nah, not yet, and roll over for another hour. It was slow, lazy, and delicious. My legs are tired from walking the grounds, my voice is a bit hoarse from all the chatting and laughing, and my brain is still somewhere back at that very specific moment I’ll get to in a minute...

After days of dashing about, I’ve finally had a chance to come online, breathe, and check in properly. I’m still in Monte Carlo and honestly? I’m having the best time. It’s sunshine and sea breeze and tennis and gelato and people, and I keep catching myself mid-smile, wondering how this became real life.

And yes - Darren sightings: TWO.
Two! One of them... let’s just say it involved me walking into him. Physically. Like, collision. Like, I had my head in my bag (don’t ask what I was looking for, I have no idea), wasn’t watching where I was going, and then - bam. Right into Darren Cahill. The man himself. I said “Oh my god, you’re Darren Cahill” out loud like some deranged romcom extra, and he was very polite and kind while I malfunctioned entirely.

There’s a version of me - probably the one that lives in sensible shoes and does laundry on time - who thinks I’m too old to be flinging myself around the world chasing sunshine, tennis, and coaches I’ve adored since the '80s. Part of me knows I’ll regret the expense or the exhaustion later.

But I’m not there yet.

Right now, I’m here. I’m having the time of my life. I’m sunburnt and swoony and completely, utterly alive in the best way. And apparently - because the universe keeps throwing me curveballs I didn’t see coming - I’m going to Barcelona next week.

No one be surprised if I never come home.

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