Sunshine, Cycles & Small Joys.

So, life has been a sporadic mix of lockdowns. The last few months have been a strange cocktail of social distancing, queuing for groceries, takeaway drinks in paper cups, and that odd mix of freedom and fear every time the government announces a new rule. There’s been a lot of home time, but also long bike rides, DIY haircuts, banana bread (of course), and possibly the most glorious start to a London summer that I’ve ever experienced.

Pedals, Parks & Pandemic Adventures.

Let’s start with the cycling — because who am I, honestly? I grew up in Auckland, and when I was in primary and intermediate school in Mt Eden, I cycled everywhere with my friends — to the park, the pool, each other’s houses — that sense of freedom only kids really get. But somewhere around high school, the bikes disappeared and so did the confidence. So, despite Boris Bikes being practically part of London’s DNA, I never quite took to them.

When I lived in Clapham, I used to side-eye the cycling commuters racing along the High Street like Tour de France hopefuls, while I smugly caught the 155 bus. But then the world stopped, traffic vanished, and suddenly it felt safe — even romantic — to be back on a bike again. Cycling through an empty city, all sunlit buildings and eerie quiet, has been one of the few silver linings of this whole saga. I started out tentatively on Boris Bikes (with a few socially distanced dates with a Kiwi guy from Hammersmith, shush), then graduated to Jump Bikes — and nothing has made me feel more powerful than beating a black cab at the lights on an electric bike in full flow.

Work runs a Cycle-to-Work tax scheme, so I managed to snag a proper road bike before stock vanished. I even went full commitment with the cleats. It’s been a game changer — zipping to the office when allowed, gliding down to Brixton for coffee runs, and feeling like I finally understand the joy of a London summer on two wheels. It’s freedom — and slightly terrifying, but in a good way.

Park Life (and Public Loos).

With pubs closed, the great British workaround has arrived: drinking in parks. Honestly, it’s been the best unintentional social experiment. Never in my life have I seen London’s parks so alive — music, laughter, couples on blankets, impromptu dance parties. You can’t walk through Clapham Common or Brockwell Park without stepping over at least three charcuterie boards and a disposable BBQ. It’s the kind of casual chaos I adore.

That said, whoever decided to remove the bushes from the park clearly hasn’t thought through basic human biology. No open public toilets, miles of rosé, and a sea of people… well, I’ll just say I’ve had some deeply humbling “nature calls” moments. Locking eyes with a stranger while mid-squat behind a half-dead shrub is not how I envisioned my thirties. Lesson learned: always scope out your exits and pack tissues.

Movement, Mindset & Makeshift Gyms.

I’ve been leaning into movement as a coping mechanism — morning yoga flows on YouTube, resistance bands in the backyard, and skipping ropes that make my neighbours hate me. Running’s become my sanity saver. I even bought a mini CamelBak (peak lockdown purchase) and have been doing long runs through Herne Hill and Dulwich. My friend Sam — yes, that Sam — moved to Peckham with his girlfriend, and I’ll jog over to see them occasionally, half for the exercise and half for the post-run iced coffee. One weekend, I ran all the way from my office to Tulse Hill — about 10km — and could barely walk the next day, but the satisfaction was chef’s kiss.

And honestly, the headspace it gives me? Magic. That mix of endorphins, sunshine, and music blasting in my headphones — for a moment, it feels like everything’s normal again.

The Kiwi Guy (and the Bacon & Egg Pie).

Ah yes, the Kiwi guy from Hammersmith. We met on Hinge, and I swear the algorithm was playing matchmaker with fate — turns out I’d had a mild crush on him back at uni. He’s a proper Waikato rugby lad, tall, charming, and endearingly awkward. We went for socially distanced bike rides, sat on benches with takeaway coffees, and for one date, he even cycled to Tulse Hill with a homemade bacon and egg pie. I mean, swoon. But London’s been rough on newcomers this year — he’d only just arrived before lockdown, and you could tell he never really got to see the magic of it. After a few lovely weeks, he told me he was planning to head home. No drama, no heartbreak — just one of those fleeting 2020 stories that could’ve been something in another life.

Break-Ins & Big Moves.

Not everything’s been sunshine and Aperol. A few weeks ago, my flat was broken into while I was out cycling. They smashed through the garden door and stole my TV — the one bit of tech I actually liked. It felt invasive, scary, and so unnecessary. I got home to police tape, glass everywhere, and that horrible pit in my stomach that someone had been in my space. Sleeping that night was impossible. I kept jolting awake at every sound, convinced someone was back. Even now, I still find tiny bits of safety glass in random places — my shoes, my underwear drawer, once even my yoga mat. It’s unnerving. But it’s also a reminder of how lucky I am to still have stability when so many don’t.

Then — as if the universe wanted to balance things out — I got the most amazing offer. A space opened up in a huge dual-aspect penthouse with old Kiwi friends in Aldgate. Proper panoramic views across the City and Canary Wharf, polished interiors, and a terrace that catches the sunset. Moving from Tulse Hill to a literal skyline view? Not bad for a pandemic pivot. Fiona’s been a dream to live with, but it’s been intense. I’m ready for a change — and a kitchen island. Moving this weekend, and I can already picture it: prosecco on the balcony, the hum of the city below, and that feeling that things might finally be shifting again.

So that’s me. A few scrapes, a few small wins, and a summer that’s been strange but kind of beautiful in its own chaotic way. The city feels different — quieter, slower, but somehow more human. I’m grateful for the light, the laughs, and the bike rides that keep me sane.

Signing off for now — boxes to pack and a view to chase.  Oh, and a trip to Sardinia coming up!  Can't wait!

Jess x