Bhuti in Richmond

When I swapped LA for Twickenham in the 90’s, I thought I had died and gone to hell. Don’t get me wrong, central London and the English countryside were always amazing.  Suburbia, however, not so much. There was a curry house, a Chinese and a fish n’ chip shop.  In those smoking days everyone went to pubs (pre-gastro) to socialise as well as to eat (kidney pies with chips anyone?!) and sit on sticky velvet sofas. Boys huddled together in one corner, girls in another. To say I was unhappy would be an understatement.  If I could have been teleported back to California I would have. But I had moved to the UK for love of the man who was to become my husband and I was going nowhere. I had to embrace it. Continue reading “Bhuti in Richmond”