After a year of living in London, my piano has been transported from Liverpool into my flat.

Originally, I thought that there would not be enough room in the flat. I was right, there is just a foot of room between my bed and the piano. There’s not even enough room for a music stand, I have to tape the sheet music to the wall. There’s also no room for a stool. I have to sit on the speaker, boasted by a copy of Shakespeare’s complete works, so that I can sit at the correct height.

Space isn’t the biggest issue, what I lack most is time. I’ve talked about the London time-vortex before. It is clichéd but I have met many grade 8 musicians who don’t have the time/inclination/space to play anymore. It’s a shame. Were all the hours of practice wasted? Why do it in the first place? Pushy parents? A better personal statement for university entry?

I’m not being critical of the pushy parents because I’m (secretly) jealous. I’d rather be a retired grade 8 pianist than a struggling grade 2 adult learner.

The real answer is to enjoy the learning experience and not to worry about the end result. Or I could concentrate on an instrument that I can already play – the guitar.

A Ferris wheel has been erected in Liverpool. Comparisons with the London Eye are inevitable. It’s not as large or prestigious but it is lit with a whiter and purer light. Even unskilled photographers with inferior equipment (me with my mobile phone) can’t fail to take a good picture:

Liverpool One Wheel

Liverpool was the end of a frantic week’s holiday. It started with a weekend trip to the South coast of England. I saw the channel for the first time. The calm white rolling waves can’t be found in the city.

The South Coast

Several friends commented that they would like to live in such a place. But not me, I’d be bored after a day. As annoying as London can be – the frantic pace and impersonal nature, it is addictively exciting. I do want to stay for a few more years at least. Friends have complained that London has caused them to feel abandoned in the North West. It’s a shame that the UK is so capital-centric, but the fact that it is London is compensation enough.

Let’s hope I don’t get burnt out soon.

Last Saturday, I returned to Nottingham for the MS Ball, which was raising money for the local Multiple Sclerosis Therapy Centre. A chance to dress up, see old university friends and have a good time.

This is not a photo of me at the ball. I still don’t own a (useable) camera. This was taken six years ago during a first year university ball. The photo is relevant because I still own the same bow tie.

Ball highlights

• Friends complaining about being 25. As a 24 year old I wasn’t among those complaining – but a six year old photo does makes you think.
• Random bidding on rounds of golf from someone who doesn’t own a set of clubs, play and lives 100 miles away from the course.
• Shouting “lower” on a charity auction is in bad taste (sorry).
• 1am is past my bedtime.
• Realising that we have no keys on the way home.
• Desperately ringing 118 118 for an emergency locksmith.
• And I quote “I’m sorry, but I’m going to try breaking into out own house before calling you back”
• Being hoisted into the kitchen extension roof by a guy with a broken wrist in a cast
• Climbing through the window, disabling the alarm, opening the front door, saving £70. Not priceless, but a welcome prevention of a depletion in net worth.

Stories like this can’t be bought.