Anyhow, a couple of years have passed, and we're no longer in lovely Wales, having attached handkerchiefs to the end our collective stick and moved to London. I'm still eating (well, currently dieting, but that's a blog I'll never write), drinking (most months), listening to music (taste still impeccable) and travelling (though now sadly punctuated by long periods of work). And this, thrillingly, is my blog about these things.
I've also brought with me most of the posts from our time away, because I loved writing them with Louise and got a kick out of people reading them too. I might even get around to writing about the last legs of the trip that we never managed to properly record.
And why Stink of Shoe Polish? Well, long ago in a land far away, it was the name of a magazine that I ran with my good friends Hosk and Ryan. Full of reviews with split infinitives, ads that no one ever paid for and restaurant reviews of places we'd never really visited, it was actually pretty darn cool. Both Ryan and Hosk are even more boring than I am nowadays, but back then were the weird older friends that my parents worried about. In many ways they still are. I hope they like the reference, and hope they don't sue for a third of the Google Ad traffic. If they do, my dreams of buying a loft conversion in Clapham will remain just that - dreams.
Stay warm.
