I've moved into A.C. Grayling's book-filled pad in Bloomsbury

And it started, as all good stories do, with a party in a castle at Hay...

In a rather random turn of events, I’ve moved into the philosopher A.C. Grayling’s Bloomsbury pad for the summer (he spends most of his time in Paris, to write). It’s a story that began with my rampant inability to say no to a party and culminated with me washing a pair of knickers in a clawfoot bathtub at a country house hotel in Hay, after a party in a castle. (And yes, I never thought I’d be writing the words ‘philosopher’ and ‘knickers’ in two consecutive sentences, but here we are.)

Those of you who read my Substack a couple of weeks ago may remember that I’d planned to spend a day at the Hay Festival during my stint in the UK. Having made the mammoth journey from my sister’s place in Salisbury, I now realise just how idiotic that idea was. For the uninitiated, getting to Hay is no small feat. There’s no train station—no direct anything, really. You first have to make it to Hereford, where you might be lucky enough to catch the elusive festival shuttle (which operates on what appears to be vibes rather than any discernible timetable), then endure a 50-minute trundle through the countryside, and finally a 15-minute walk that feels like a literary pilgrimage through sheep-dotted fields and winding lanes to the festival site.

I had a feeling, even as I arrived, that I might end up missing my train home (it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve thrown caution to the wind and missed the only mode of transport back). But with—quite literally—no room at the inn in Hay, I didn’t think staying would be an option.

What follows is a rather unlikely and hilarious series of events—a fitting ode to losing my Hay virginity—that has ended with me writing this at A.C. Grayling’s desk, surrounded by precarious stacks of books, overlooking a tree-lined street in Bloomsbury, praying inspiration may strike while I’m here and that I’ll finally write the memoir I’ve been meaning to ever since I got dumped by a man I moved across the world for.

As this one’s a bit more personal, it’s going to sit behind the paywall. So if you haven’t yet joined my paid community, now’s as good a time as any!