Nomadic Emma

Next week I will have exactly nine months left of my twenties remaining. I think I'd like to go out of my third decade in style. Really ...

With bellies full of Borough Market goods, we take a stroll down Southbank to find the resident sand sculptor kicking back on his latest wor...

Our phone rang the other night. It just about scared the bejesus out of me. No, not one of our house's many mobiles that seem to live d...

Along with my family, my friends are what keep my world turning. Stretched across the world, they exist as a living, breathing web of suppor...

After years of painful long distance overnight bus trips in 3rd world countries, I achieve travel nirvana: my very own cabin (avec bathroom...

Yet another half done Guardian crossword spends Saturday afternoon waiting in hope of a very delayed wave of inspiration, which never seems ...

No day would go by when I don't use my ipod . My music is my escape, my muse, and my solace, all rolled into one lightweight and charcoa...

Bodies wrapped in tweed and scarves mill about prior to the start of the annual Cambridge vs Oxford boat race. 'Civilisation' storm...

A lonely pink cardigan lies discarded; destined to spend the Easter holidays alone at the Royal Academy of Dance, Battersea.

I have been pondering this phenomenon for quite some time now. I was never sure if it was due to a special magnetic field around the escala...