The next day, I go to Pullabrook Wood in Devon to practise my skills. It was easy to survive yesterday, with Durbin standing by. Can I cope alone? Pullabrook is a lovely wood, administered by the Woodland Trust. It is full of happy Tories and happy Labradors. But now I have my own mini-apocalypse. I fail at bow drilling. I find a stream, but a happy Tory says the water is poisonous, even if filtered by sock. Why? «Because sheep droppings have contaminated it,» he says. Death by Sheep is only slightly behind Death by Snail in the encyclopaedia of embarrassing ways to die.
Sander Boschker is 40 years old and he was given his Champions League debut largely as a gesture in recognition of his distinguished service. He is in his 22nd season at Twente. But when Peter Wisgerhof sent an innocuous back-pass along the bumpy ground, Boschker suffered his Paul Robinson moment. He took a mighty swing at the ball, caught only a slice of it and, as his heart leapt in horror, he watched it spin back and trickle into his own goal. So much for sentiment.
The ways in which the fashion industry and my line of work operate fell like dominoes. The closing of borders everywhere meant that the fashion shows that were slated to happen in May, and the numerous press trips dotted throughout the year, couldn’t go ahead. The ban on gatherings of people put a stop to the industry dinners and parties. Factories all over had ceased production, creating ripples in supply chains which dovetailed with rapidly falling demand. Quite rightly, clothes shops were deemed «non-essential» and physical stores were shuttered. Fashion, with all its ephemerality and whimsy, predicated on people expressing themselves through what they wear in public, had rightly been condemned into a non-essential sin-bin.
Facebook Twitter Pinterest Before lockdown: Susie Lau during Paris fashion week in February. Photograph: Claudio Lavenia/Getty ImagesInitially I retreated into a homespun distraction rhythm like the rest of the country: baking cakes (I became fixated with making complicated cartoon character chiffon cakes); creative at-home childcare with my three-year-old daughter Nico; and silly House Party meet-ups with friends. All of the work that was centred on travel had gone. Originally, in April and May I was to go to Hong Kong and Shanghai, then begin a heavy carbon-footprinted schedule of flying around for shows from Capri to Tokyo to San Francisco. Instead, I had to concentrate on working from home, taking on more copywriting gigs, and relying more on shooting content at home with a tripod and a remote control. In June, shows began to take the digital format of films and streamed conversations, and I opted to cover them remotely through Zoom «frow» conversations with other influencers like Bryanboy and Tina Craig of Bag Snob.
So, it comes to this. No matter how hard you try, Britain will probably become a nuclear wasteland. The snails that are your lunch will either die, or look very weird. So, again, what to do? My considered advice is this. You, Guardian reader, need to begin building a boat – a sailing ship, actually – to take you to – yes, Canada. Before you leave the city you should pause at a library and steal the entire boat-making and maintenance shelf. Canada may be your only hope of salvation. And that is as fitting an obituary for our civilisation as I can type. In The End, it turns out you don’t just have to be the heroine of Survivors. You need to bloody well be Noah too.
So, a few days later, I am standing inside an Iron Age roundhouse at Butser Ancient Farm in Hampshire. Butser is a project that re-enacts Iron Age life. The roundhouse is huge and round and dim. I feel a bit as if I am standing inside a giant breast. Steve Dyer is the archaeological director. He is tall and red-faced, with a frizzy white beard.
Durbin leads me through the spindly, sleeping trees, pointing out different kinds of branch and bush, and their uses. According to him, the wood is a shop that will give you everything you need. «Willow bark can be boiled to relieve a headache,» he says. «Yew is for making long bows. Oak is for shelters. Ash is for tool handles. Have you ever had a beech-leaf sandwich?» I don’t bother replying.
The Alquería de Morayma, near Cádiar, is the creation of another inspired Alpujarreño, Mariano Cruz. Mariano bought a ruin of a wayside inn and rebuilt it with all the beauty and none of the squalor of 200 years ago. Here you can eat well, stay in exquisite rooms, swim in the pool, go walking, riding or loba negra pdf engage in one of the many pursuits organised by the hotel.
The impressive Brama almost exacted the revenge that Twente were seeking for their 4-1 defeat at White Hart Lane when his shot was beaten away by the diving Gomes. At the other end, Boschker reacted sharply to keep out a deflection off Douglas. It was breathless to the end. For Tottenham, though, the excitement levels are set to be cranked up further.
Jermain Defoe had waited for this moment for what had seemed an age. It was at the beginning of September when the Tottenham Hotspur striker felt his season cave in, together with his ankle ligaments while on England duty, and the rehabilitation lasted 10 arduous weeks.