This time last year, I had a quiet evening. After finally settling over sugared, over excited children to sleep, I ate something simple, watched a bit of mindless TV, chatted to a friend on the phone. I had a bath and went to bed early.
But I couldn’t sleep. I was filled with nervous anticipation, sick with worry about the following day. Because on the first of November, we left London for Los Angeles, and ports beyond.
It’s been quite a year.