It’s safe to say that ‘What’s the weather like there?’ is the last question any Londoner wants to hear in January from their jet-setting friends. It was definitely the last thing my mum wanted to hear as she dragged our dog, Lord Pinkerton the First, around Lincoln’s Inn Fields in freezing rain.
I learnt my lesson, and decided not to quiz her further. You see, this year I joined the ranks of London’s self-employed creative community, using the money I should’ve saved for my tax return to embark on my own twisted version of an "Eat, Pray, Love" getaway. It didn’t take long for me to realise, however, that everyone seemed to be heading to the same place: Sri Lanka.
