Flirtation vs. Friendship.

Last week I made a new friend.

At least I think they’re a friend. I’m unsure whether we’re just friends. I can’t tell if we’re flirting over message or simply making conversation. The line has apparently become very blurred over the pandemic because the whole meeting people thing was put on hold. When was the last time I made a friend? I’m unsure. When was the last time I made a friend that wasn’t through a mutual friend? Even more unsure. Hence my confusion.

We went for a drink. We had a nice time. Did I feel mildly nervous? Yes. Was there banter and a lot of laughing you ask? Yes absolutely. But was I flirting or is that just how I talk? And was I making them laugh because I like them, or because I live for the ego boost? So many questions. I brought it up with my friends and, in an attempt to straighten it out in my mind, mentioned that I’m not sure where the uncertainty is coming from. I don’t normally automatically assume the people I meet are romantically interested in me.

‘Really?’ One of my friends replied. ‘I tend to assume everyone I meet is in love with me’

‘Same’ another added as she sipped her dirty martini. Calm down love, we’re far more Bridget Jones than Carrie Bradshaw.

So, are my existing friends ridiculously narcissistic or do they just carry the main character energy we should all strive to exist with? More uncertainty.

Unsurprisingly, I am probably just being dramatic. I do think it is just friendship, but it got me thinking about the way in which we form connections and the many different ways in which they come.

When my dog came to stay the other week, I became far more aware of the simplicity of interactions. We didn’t get on the tube without someone starting a conversation and I noticed people constantly reaching down to stroke Milo, almost subconsciously. It is funny that despite the varied busyness of our lives, most people exist with an underlying desire to care for and connect with the people around them. It’s often in a fleeting ‘good morning’, a casual ‘how are you?’ or a quick ‘can I stroke your dog?’ but it exists. Obviously, the past few years existed with far less meaningless interactions, and it’s nice to have them back again. I think that life works best as a balance of the meaningless and meaningful, of the intense and the casual, and, to circle back, a balance of the flirtation and the friendship. I’ll let you know when I figure out which one this is.

Instagram: @IndiaGarrett

Twitter: @IndiaGarrett


You may notice a couple of things have changed around here. Nothing too major, but with a shift in the weather, a new job and a cautious optimism for the future, it felt about time I gave this website a bit of an upgrade.

Gone are the big childish banners and in is the branded new logo. I use this website primarily as personal promo, so it seems a bit facetious to call it a ‘rebrand’, but I suppose the changes fall somewhere into that category. I’m hoping it will inspire a bit more motivation and a sense of direction for my own writing and what I want to do, but only time will tell.

In the meantime, please have a click around. Look at my published pieces on the Other Writing tab, follow me on Instagram and Twitter if you don’t already and please stay tuned.


The first voice note I sent as 2020 came to its long awaited close and we rolled into the early hours of 2021 was not a drunken profession of love, nor was it some endless ramblings and reflection on the past year, it wasn’t even an overly enthusiastic Happy New Year message to someone I definitely should not be messaging after consuming that much champagne. It was to my flatmate, at 2am, loudly announcing my concern that we’d forgotten to pay our council tax before we came home for Christmas. And with that message, and a painful hangover, I realised that in a kind of messy, not always on top of it and very unexpected way, I had become an adult (ish). I know that actually having remembered to pay our council tax would have been the more grown up thing to do, but we’re getting there, small steps.

I’ve been thinking about this more since I came back to London. Home was full of too much food, positive covid tests and a sort of scraping the barrel attempt at festivities. Despite the strangeness, you can always rely on family dynamics and the characterstics of the people you’ve grown up with to come through. Somehow, whenever we come together, we seem to resort to our childish tendencies, regardless of how old we get. When I’m in Bedford I find myself toeing that blurry fine line of adult and childhood that seems to appear in your early twenties. I’ll cook complicated full meals for my family and yet nothing makes me feel more like I’m 15 again than when my sister winds me up so much that I lose control of my temper. I’ll pour a glass of wine to sit and watch Grand Designs on a weeknight but will spend the ad breaks moaning to my mum about how much time my brother spends in the bathroom. I’ll do our weekly food shop, walk the dog, help with life admin, organise my own plans (just walks) but I’ll bicker with my brother about why I don’t want to take the bins out. I’ll get frustrated if I’m not given the point in a heated game of Scattegories, I’ll get into moods where I demand sole attention from my mum and I’ll roll my eyes when I have to tell her where I’m going (on a walk).

Since moving out, the majority of those things have fallen to the wayside. My weekly food shop is just for me and I don’t have to worry about sharing a bathroom with my brother (just two other girls with incredibly intensive skincare routines). As well as the boring things like paying council tax, resetting the boiler pressure and remembering that Tuesday night is bin night, being in London has let me explore the boundaries of myself outside of the dynamics of my family or university. I know those boundaries are limited at the moment, they don’t stretch much further than the local park, the nearest Aldi and the coffee shop round the corner, but still, the small routines make me feel like I have some sense of independence. I know that all of this is coming from a place of privilege, and there is much more to adulthood than the actual act of moving out. I’ve noticed a change in the way I think, the way I decide which relationships to prioritise, the way I look at my own worth, a difference in what I put my effort into and a shift in what I spend my time worrying about. These things weren’t sudden, and I hope they would’ve happened anyway, but I needed that nudge to acknowledge them, a reason to look back on how much I’ve changed over the past few years.

Growing up does not mean I can now suddenly keep all of my plants alive, it does not mean I’ve stopped losing socks or that I now only read intellectual novels. It does not mean my flat is always tidy and full of freshly baked bread and flowers. I still have a tendency to accidentally finish a bottle of wine when I planned to only have a glass and I don’t hoover regularly enough to stop balls of dust and crumbs from gathering on our kitchen floor. Messy bedrooms, microwave meals, hangovers, wrong choices, debt, procrastination and oversleeping all still exist. The thing that has changed is my acceptance of them, my understanding of balance and strangely enough, my excitement for the whole process.

Instagram: @IndiaGarrett

Twitter: @IndiaGarrett

Job Applications

I’m so bored of job applications. I’m bored of combing through LinkedIn and adverts online, picking out words and intertwining them with my own to construct a cover lettter that simultaneously proves I’m exactly what they’re looking for and yet incredibly different from all the other applicants. I’m bored of receiving overly polite wordy emails that make me read until the penultimate line to tell me I haven’t been successful this time. I’m bored of clarifying that yes, I can in fact start immediately, and no, I don’t really have any salary expectations, just a salary at all would be nice at this point.

I don’t mean to moan, I know it could be worse, I just feel like there is something incredibly montonous about attempting to present the best version of my working self to people I’ll never meet, and yet they have a huge amount of control over what the next few years of my life look like. I’m much more than a CV and cover letter but that’s irrelevant, there are hundreds of equally ‘qualified, hard-working and enthusiastic’ individuals just like me, applying for the same jobs as me and we’re all just the few hundred words we submit in our applications. Thats why you need to make yourself stand out….ah yes, but you see the issue with attempting to stand out is that sometimes it pays off, but a lot of the time, these companies do actually just want you to tick their boxes and equally, if you and 200 other people are attempting to stand out, chances are you’ll be blending in more than you think. I’m being pessimistic, I know, and maybe it is the people who are submitting mixtapes as CVs and recording their cover letters as spoken word who are being hired, but I’m yet to reach that point.

I’m not the only one who’s bored, my brilliant flatmates are wonderfully supportive but every time I ask them to proof read an application, there is a clear look that flickers across their faces. Now I may be wrong, I’m sure it’s unintentional and it’s only for a split second, but in that split second, I am 99% sure they want to kill me. I don’t blame them, there are only so many times I’d be able to read the highlight reel of someone else’s achievements in a mildly different 500 word format. Someone else I know very kindly spent a day a few weeks ago essentially tearing my CV, and as a result, my ego, to pieces. I am of course incredibly grateful, it’s always helpful to have a fresh pair of eyes look at something, but having someone point out all the flaws in something you thought was pretty decent is never great to hear. It also made me feel like all the time I’d spent applying for jobs with the old and dull CV was a complete waste of time, which, considering I didn’t get any of them, I suppose it kind of was. C’est la vie. In fairness, we didn’t add anything new, just presented it in a way that means I’m selling myself better, thank goodness I’m not trying to go into advertising…

Very few job rejections I’ve received have offered much response, the current climate means every opening is receiving hundreds of applicants so can’t offer individual feedback. I understand that, obviously you can’t expect a company to go through and let every individual know specifically why they haven’t made the cut, but obviously it would help to know where I’m going wrong and if there’s anything I can do about it. A couple have offered feedback, but when I’ve chased it they obviously have things that are further up on their list of priorities. Its entirely understandable, just a bit frustrating, especially because it tends to be the same companies that send incredibly nice rejections telling me how much they enjoyed my application and how much great experience I have and how they’re sure I’ll be an asset to whatever company I join, it just won’t be theirs. I know it’s meant to be nice, but ultimately I don’t really need nice or to be let down gently, just a quick yes or no.

All of this being said, of course I will keep applying. Of course I will keep making my flatmates read over and over my cover letters, I will keep listening to my mum’s ideas and suggestions of different career paths and I will keep sending random emails to friends of my aunty’s neighbour’s brother-in-law in the hope they might be able to give me a hand. Of course things could be much worse and I’m just ranting. They say applying for jobs is a full time job, the truth is I’d just quite like a real one now.

Instagram: @IndiaGarrett

Twitter: @IndiaGarrett



It’s been a while. It feels strange starting a blog post as a letter, but this page has always felt personal and when I’ve thought about writing this, it has felt a lot like a letter I need to write. Like a friend I need to get back in touch with and update on my life. I guess maybe that’s one reason why I’ve put it off for a while, sometimes there is so much to say you don’t know where to start or how or whether anyone cares at all.

I guess the main thing is I’ve moved to London, to Brixton, with a couple of friends from school. It all happened relatively quickly, we made the decision and had moved in within a month. At first I think that made me doubt whether it was the right thing, perhaps because we are taught to be rational and to think things through and make sure we’ve planned ahead. If this year has taught us anything, it’s that sometimes you just can’t plan ahead. Depsite it perhaps not being the best decision financially, I think it was the right thing to do on all other counts. It’s made me feel like things are back on track again, that I’m actually an adult and it’s reminded me that life works in phases and I’m really bloody excited for this one. That being said, moving out for good has been strange. This is the first time in my life where I won’t go home for two months over Christmas or Summer, when I won’t head back to Bedford after I finish travelling and I don’t think that’s really sunk in yet, suddenly I’ve made a pretty permanent change.

I think that’s a good thing though, everyday I feel more and more like myself. I think I’d kind of forgotten who that was. I’m busy again, surrounded by people who make me laugh and feel good, it feels like I’m remembering what real life is like. I’ve also remembered what it’s like to be ok on my own and regain my independence, I feel like I’d started relying on others and what they thought of me more than I’d like. My own emotional intensity from the past year has began to subside and it feels a bit like something heavy has been lifted off my chest. I know that’s not the case for everyone and I’m not naïve, just feeling good again and grateful for it.

People keep asking how the job hunt is going and all I can say is, well, it’s going. Relatively unsuccessfully as of yet but it’s definitely going. Since lockdown lifted, there are definitely more jobs out there, the issue is there are also more people applying for them. I feel like job applications can be pretty demoralising at the best of times so you can imagine (and I’m sure many of you know) how rubbish it is. But a job will come, things will change again. On the plus side, it means I’ve actually been able to get to know my new area, to make a few new friends and engage in the community. I don’t know when the next chance to take things this slowly will be so I’m trying to make the most of it, fill my days with personal productivity and focus on smaller moments, to enjoy the little lights. There’s a poem I keep seeing on the tube called Time To Be Slow that I’ve read again and again. It speaks of not letting the wire brush of doubt scrape away your sense of self and how, if you remain generous, the air will become blushed with new beginnings. I think we’re all waiting for new beginnings and I hope yours find you soon.

Last week I turned 23, it’s an age I’m excited for and was grateful to mark with some brilliant people who made me feel very special. That being said, I felt far less invested in my birthday than I used to, I think it’s partly because, as I’ve gotten older, I put less pressure on age as a marker of accomplishments. There are far more tangible ways to look back on my achievements than simply the passing of time. Also, there is far less to be excited about when you can’t have a party, so maybe that was it.

I hope you’re well and staying both safe and sane. I know the next few months don’t look particularly bright but don’t underestimate yourself. As an individual I think you’re more prepared than you realise, we’re adaptable and you have survived this once before, you’ll do it again.

India x

Instagram: @IndiaGarrett

Twitter: @IndiaGarrett


I read somewhere recently that you remember things with your brain, your heart or your stomach. It didn’t take much deliberation to realise I’m very clearly a stomach person. My dad was, although I’m relatively sure his impecabble memory was a super power regardless of what he ate, he just really liked food (despite his kitchen skills being limited to being beans on toast). My mum on the other hand, enjoys the cooking just as much as the eating and I like to think that I’m the same.

Being part of a family who put so much emphasis on food and drink, on the way it brings people together and the comfort it provides, is something I have never really thought much about. It’s second nature to me, a part of life that has always been there and something I have carried through to my independence and adulthood. I suppose it has shaped me more than I realised. I wouldn’t have such a desire to bring my friends together around the dinner table if I hadn’t had countless nights lying awake in bed listening to the clink of glasses and my dad’s unexpected laughter drifting up the stairs, if I hadn’t come home from babysitting to the tail-ends of dinner parties with tipsy adults demanding I join them and my mum cutting me a slice of her pavlova as I tentatively sat at the end of the table. I probably wouldn’t put much effort into discovering new restaurants if I didn’t have memories of driving for hours down sandy lanes in rural Italy to enjoy perfectly fried courgette flowers and incredible pasta pomodoro. I wouldn’t associate golden hour with a disposable barbecue and a beer on the beach and I wouldn’t know that one of the best ways to save money on holiday is to make a picnic lunch with whatever you can nab at the hotel breakfast.

I know that ultimately, food is just something we need to survive but to me, there is so much more to it. My granny’s carrot cake is the reason for countless tea-time conversations, my mum’s crumble helped give me the strength to return to uni after dad died and I feel a little bit inspired everytime I see my grandad’s cheese soufflé rise in the oven. It bonds us and gives us an opportunity to celebrate in a way that is perhaps more reflective and perceptive than a standard party (although that does depend on how much wine is on offer). I value the morning after debrief brunches just as much as the night before and the pleasure of being cooked for or cooking for others is one I don’t think I’ll ever tire of.

During lockdown, I took great pleasure in leafing through all of my mum’s family recipes and putting them in a book of my own. Food became even more important when it felt like there was so little else that was normal and predictable. If you followed the recipe, a banana bread would still rise, a simmering rich tomato sauce would still thicken and a well cooked chicken thigh would still fall off the bone. Cooking became very therapeutic for me, if I woke up feeling helpless I’d bake, following the structure of measurements and timing helped to give me focus, it gave me something to show for my day. Endless hours were spent folding down the pages of cook books and trying new recipes was a way to feel both creative and productive. Meal planning and feeding my family gave me a sense of purpose, it was a way to try and provide a little bit of comfort.

I will always remember meals, from the graduation lunch at Harvey Nichols in Leeds, annual fish and chips at Eastbourne beach, a terrible pizza at a motorway hotel in France, the world’s best pancakes at bottomless brunch in Fulham, boozy meals with family that always end around a piano, Christmas roasts, picnics, birthday cakes and takeaways, the list goes on. It isn’t just the food though, it’s the people and the place and the moment in time. It’s the conversations and laughter that float around the table, where and why you gathered together, what you did next, the greetings and the goodbyes that happen either side.

I suppose that in it’s simplicity, it may be a love of food, but it satisfies so much more than just my stomach.

Instagram: @IndiaGarrett

Twitter: @IndiaGarrett

If you fancy a bit more food related content (from people far more interesting than myself) then give Out To Lunch with Jay Raynor a listen. The food critic takes big names out for lunch, conversation flows accompanied by the atmospheric sounds of some brilliant restaurants. Stanley Tucci wrote beautifully for The Atlantic about how food punctuates his family’s days in lockdown and revealed a few of his favourite recipes. If you don’t listen already, there is a huge backlog of Table Manners episodes where Jessie Ware and her mum invite people over a meal and find out about the role food has played in their life.



We are creeping back to normality, slowly, reassuringly, strangely. I still miss being close to the people I care about, but to see them in 3D, as more than shoulders and a head on a screen, has been so important. To be around more than one person at a time and engage in conversations where friends can bounce off one another has made me feel so much more human again. I had missed the texture of conversation that happens when different people are together, bringing the depths of their own thoughts and opinions. Being able to laugh with people I hadn’t seen since I went away in January feels surreal, good, but still surreal.

Today, for the first time since March, I sat and people watched. I’ve missed watching stranger’s interactions, taking in the way people communicate and navigate the space around each other. Of course that’s different now, people need to leave more space and as necessary as it is, I’ve found it also makes reunions feel slightly anticlimactic. Friends spotting each other across the park move towards each other full of excitement but stopping just before they collide. Siblings meeting up for a walk keep apologising when they forget themselves and get too close. Together but not as we were, not as we would’ve been.

As exciting as it is, I think the change is making a lot of us apprehensive. We’re not out of the woods yet, but there are moments when it feels like we are. You can go shopping, sit in the park with your friends, have people over for a barbecue, all things that you might be doing anyway and yes, more cautions should be taken but as I say, it’s easy to forget. For many it’s also easy to forget how difficult things were and, as a result, how diffcult they could be again. I think many of us are finding this limbo and the not quite normal harder to navigate than where we were before. The inbetween means I’m constantly fluctuating between hopeful and hesitant.

People’s conversations are starting to be about things other than the pandemic. Some more trivial topics slipping back into our chats but, far more importantly, some long overdue discussions are happening too. Times are hopefully changing, in more ways than one.

I think a lot of the ongoing shift will be about balance. Today I saw three men walking through the park, each with a takeaway pint in one hand and wheeling their bike with the other. Keep doing what you can, but try not to feel guilty about sensibly tasting a bit of normality again. Avoid public transport, but enjoy your pint.

Instagram: @IndiaGarrett

Twitter: @IndiaGarrett

Holiday Dusk

The light is soft, it’s created a kind of glow over everything that you seem to notice only on holidays. The hours between afternoon and evening are the most gentle, the most peaceful, when there is a sense of calm after a full day combined with a steady excitement for the time that stretches before you, like the endless stroll along the beach.

The day was spent with sand between your toes and a sheen on your skin that was a mix of sweat, suncream and salt water. You’ve showered, but you can still feel the beach on your arms and the pink tinge has remained on your face. It doesn’t look like burn though, it looks like life, like you’ve been kissed by the day. There are some new freckles, spots of experience on your skin that appear and disappear with the seasons as though to mark the passing of time, the changes in yourself. Your hair is still damp, falling down your back and creating cooler air for you to breathe, your jewellery is glinting in the golden glow and you begin the routine of the evening, the simple pleasures that make time feel abundantly special and explicitly plain all at once.

On the balcony they’re waiting, head in a book, rosé open and a glass waiting for you. A bag of crisps from a European brand you haven’t heard of but grabbed at the little shop on the way home has been part consumed and a bowl of pistachios sits with the cracked shells mixed up amongst the soft green saltiness. Sit down, book closes, eyes up, smile, sip, happy. So happy. You think it’s funny, the amount of time you can spend with a person and still have things to say, how you can live through the same day and still have things to share about it, thoughts you kept to yourself that now slip out as you work your way through the bottle. Dry and crisp and clear, as your mind slowly becomes less so and the sound of laughter fills the air. Your eyes take on that familiar sparkle, it’s the flirting, the cheekiness of the unknown evening.

Outside there’s a soft breeze, a chill but the heat of the day still lingers in the air so you’re not cold, maybe that’s the wine though. You walk down the cobbled sandy street, hand in hand, arms swinging like they’re wings, like you’re trying to take off. You feel light enough to take off. You stop at the restaurant, one you ate at two nights ago, or was it three? The softness of the days mean they blurr together in the warmest of ways. Same table, same waiter, same menu, same wine. You pick up the glass by the stem, eye the menu, you don’t know what to have but it doesn’t matter, in this mood it seems impossible for anything not to taste like heaven. Olives stuffed with secrets arrive, bread that you can hear as much as you can taste when you bite it. The evening goes on and the sun sets, creating a brief dusk over the sea before it says goodbye.

It’s colder as you leave so you take their jacket off the back of their chair without asking but they don’t say anything, the don’t mind, they never do. The walk back is slower, arm in arm with steps that are more gentle, attempting to let the night linger for as long as possible, to try and pause the moment, to hold off on sleep. The sun and the wine amplify your exhaustion but it’s ok, you don’t mind the feeling of it in your bones when there is nothing else to do. It’s dark now, a quick look at the stars before you duck into your summer cave.

The day is done, but tomorrow will be exactly the same, how lovely.


Instagram: @IndiaGarrett

Twitter: @IndiaGarrett

Things To Look Forward To

Some days I feel settled into this new normal and on others I’m having lunch at 4pm and drinking quite a lot of gin. So, regardless of what kind of day I’m having, I’ve been trying to think about all the things I’m looking forward to and what I want to do when this is all over and I thought I’d share my list. Some of it’s mundane and some of it’s a bit more specific. I hope it makes you smile regardless.

So, when this is over I will

  • Have a bloody big party, a full on weekend long shabang
  • Finally swim in The Ponds on Hampstead Heath
  • Get Frozen Yoghurt from the Soho Snog after 9pm, it’s scientifically proven to taste better after this time I don’t know why
  • Meet someone at the St Pancras Champagne Bar
  • Be better at supporting local businesses
  • Sit in a coffee shop for at least 5 hours and just people watch
  • Go to the beach
  • Consume an entire jug of Pimms to myself
  • Go strawberry picking for strawberries to use in said jug of Pimms
  • Spend a day exploring in London without getting the bus or tube
  • Go Out Out and really dance
  • Have brunch at Granary Square and then play in the fountains
  • Go to a National Trust property every weekend for a month
  • Drive aimlessly
  • Shop, sensibly, but definitely shop
  • Go camping with friends in Cornwall
  • Eat a lot of sushi
  • Go to a gig every night for a week
  • Continue to bake obscene amounts of banana bread
  • Smile at everyone I see at the gym, even if it’s mildly creepy
  • Go punting and actually do the punting bit myself
  • Always have flowers in the house
  • Buy more plants generally and keep them alive
  • Go to the supermarket just to buy one thing, or even just walk around
  • Enjoy being stuck in traffic or on delayed trains…maybe enjoy is a strong word but I’ll stress less
  • Dress up for no reason
  • Never again say ‘If only I had more time’, I currently have all the time and if anything am less productive
  • Spend an entire afternoon in the park
  • Get whatever I want at Pret and not worry about the price

Tell me what you want to do, tell me what you miss, get in touch I want to hear it all.

Instagram: @IndiaGarrett

Twitter: @IndiaGarrett


And just like that, I’m home and everything has changed so quickly. So quickly that even this paragraph I wrote 10 days ago is almost irrelevant but I thought I’d share in anyway.

‘It’s a strange time, there are moments where I forget that it’s real life. Grounded flights, countries on lockdown and barren supermarkets feels more like something out of a dystopian disaster film than a week in 2020. But that is what’s happening. It’s all anyone is talking about and it’s taken over a lot of people’s thoughts. I think partially because it’s a situation so out of anyone’s control, people like to be able to plan and control situations as much as possible but in this instance it’s impossible. I’ve been trying to plan my travels over the past week which has proved slightly difficult, the unknown creates a hesitancy to plan anything more than a few days in advance. My brother has just had to cancel his trip of a lifetime to India and another friend had to decide to postpone 5 months in South America the day before she was meant to fly. Obviously the virus is having a far worse effect on the health and livelihoods of others, it’s just the scale of the impact I can’t get over. Suddenly I’m wondering whether and when I’ll be able to get home and if I should be putting any kind of plan in place.’

Five days and much deliberating after that, I booked a flight home. A hard decision but the developments in the past week have reassured me it was the right one. If I’d stayed in Australia I wouldn’t have been able to travel, would’ve lost my job and just been stuck there, paying rent, on lockdown and on the other side of the world to the people I cared about. I was lucky, over the last couple of days it’s become pretty much impossible to leave Aus and all non-essential businesses have closed.

Being back feels strange, it’s like I never left, the past 10 weeks past are a hazy dream with golden edges. It’s been very different to the homecoming I’d imagined, there hasn’t been any excitement or big reunions with friends, no one is interested in hearing about my trip when there are so many more important things on people’s minds. I’m frustrated at myself, part of me feels I wasted the time. I went all that way and didn’t make it outside of Sydney, I didn’t see the best parts of the country or experience the any of the incredible scenery. But I’m just trying to remind myself that that’s ok and actually focus on what I did do rather than what I didn’t. I ate, drank and sunbathed my way around the city and felt what it’s like to live there, a luxury I shouldn’t take for granted. I met some wonderful people and I’ve been thinking that even if those friendships are the only thing to have come out of the past 10 weeks, then they were still definitely absolutely worth it.

There will probably be a final Australia post once the initial shock of this has all passed, there are photos and stories I still want to share but I’m not sure now is the right time. I hope you’re ok, that staying in isn’t driving you completely mad and the disruption to life isn’t too much, remember it’ll pass. Stay safe, stay inside and stay in touch x

Instagram: @IndiaGarrett

Twitter: @IndiaGarrett