Poles and Cobblestones

I have to say, with some arrogance, that my new job is pretty sweet.

I just spent the weekend in Sofia, Bulgaria -eating, drinking and being merry with colleagues from the old Soviet bloc. Oh yeah. And I was working.

This was basically the deepest I have been into 'new' europe, and lordy lord, I had a good time.

I was helping to coordinate a training weekend of 50 lawyers from across our 7 CEE offices, and lucky for me, inherently bound up in that task was a significant amount of socialising including, unexpectedly, some of the best clubbing I have done in quite sometime!

I have resolved, also unexpectedly, that at the first opportunity I find, I think I am going to try and marry a Pole. I briefly thought that this might be a bad idea as I would end up with some unpronounceable combination of z's y's k's and o's as my surname, but, once I remembered that I don't intend to change my surname I realised that it was a surmountable problem.

By way of explanation, Polish men seem to be a lovely combination of chivalrous, well-groomed , attractive and nicely perfumed. I have always tried never to allow this blog to become a Carrie Bradshaw-esque column (though if I did, I would probably be richer) but given my recent perplexing experiences as a single woman on both sides of the globe, there is something very appealing about Polish sensibility. (As an aside lads, the girls are invariably gorgeous. Something to keep in mind....)

Whilst away, I made several observations that I planned to share on here, not the least of which is that 'boxing boot as fashion statement' is well and truly alive in Bulgaria, however as I have idiotically managed to break the space bar on my computer, typing this is causing fatigue of my usually indefatigable right thumb.

I have posted a couple of pics on the photostream, none of them too remarkable, but they do show the first big snow of the season, which conveniently ruined our group excursion to a world heritage listed monastery, and gave me my first true lip-numbing taste of the central european winter.

And I shall leave you with a final thought - cobblestones + ice + stiletto boots + Adelle = thank god there was a lovely chivalrous Polish man to save her. Hahahahahahaha. Goodnight & goodlucksky.