Morning all. Back in sunny London after three seconds in sunny LA. It was a trip I was kindly sent on by the Mail to cover Gwyneth Paltrow’s first ever ‘Wellness Summit’ and you can read my piece about it HERE.
It was a ball. LA, I mean. My brother has recently moved out there so we packed in various activities in one day: we went for what the Americans call a hike and we call a walk, we ate Mexican food in a farmers’ market, we lounged about in Soho House in Hollywood, we went to The Magic Castle and, later, I sat behind Meg Ryan in my hotel and tried to eavesdrop on her conversation.
Also, it seems driving Ubers is the new waiting tables. Every single Uber driver I had was not apparently an Uber driver but an actor or a screenplay writer. ‘Yeah, I used to be a journalist, but then I realised screenplays were more lucrative,’ said a lady who drove me back to my hotel in her Toyota Prius on Saturday evening.
Anyway, I’m home again and I had a bowl of pesto pasta for supper last night and a mug of Special K for my pudding. So I think we can say I’ve escaped unharmed.