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Santorini in three words: sun, sleep & (great) food

Here I sit, in London’s business district, flanked on one side by the monumental St Paul’s Cathedral and on the other by London’s star-bright West End. Some might say they envy where I am right now, I mean it’s even sunny in ol’ Londontown today, but all I wish for right this moment is to be back in Santorini. Even in London’s sunshine, it just doesn’t compare.

I mean, there are no donkeys in London!

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matcha cherry swirl ice cream: guest post by Meeta from What's For Lunch Honey?

While I’m away sunning myself on the gorgeous island of Santorini, my friends from far and wide have chipped in to help keep you hungry little readers occupied. Meeta, author of the stunning blog What’s For Lunch Honey?, knows me far too well. She’s gone and combined matcha and ice cream and cherries and created the deliriously amazing matcha cherry swirl ice cream!

Read on to enjoy Meeta’s blog post :)

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Gelupo: ice cream for lunch? Sure, why not?

As this post goes to air (thank you Mr. Scheduler), I am sunning myself on the most gorgeous caldera in the world ~ Santorini. I’m probably having the time of my life, but this time last week I was most definitely not having the time of my life.

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Pied à Terre: me and my pal, dining in style...

I was 12 years old, in Year 7 at Craigslea Primary School on Brisbane’s north side. I hadn’t really come into my own yet and was a painfully shy, timid, quiet (I know it seems impossible, but I once was very shy, very timid and remarkably quiet. Lord knows what happened) and ridiculously nerdy girl (this bit hasn’t changed).

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weekend with my girls & my food: 36 hours in Brussels (and a few in Brugge)

One of the awesome things about living in London is that you can just “pop over” to another country for a weekend. And not even like a Friday to Monday type of thing. Last weekend, three of my favourite girls and I jumped on the Eurostar bright and early Saturday morning, ate our way through Brussels and Brugge and arrived back home in London by 10pm Sunday night.  A tight little (weekend) package, and I’m definitely not talking about my butt.

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