Family

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My dad remains convinced that I am living on Azkaban. This makes me slightly sad for two reasons. Firstly, that my dad readily attributes criminal tendencies to me. Secondly, it reminds me that at the ripe old age of 23, I have yet to receive my Hogwarts letter and therefore should resign myself to the life of a muggle. It’s not all bad though. I’m a week into life on Zanzibar, and, though there isn’t a Dementor in sight, there is plenty of magic. White sands, blue skies, turquoise sea... cliched but true. Speaking of the sea, my 89-year old grandfather has, as usual, conducted his meticulous research into my destination, and is worried about pirates. (My mum hastens to add that he is worried about pirates in Zanzibar, not the small Worcestershire town in which he resides). My family (including afore-mentioned grandfather) are all on Facebook, meaning that I am guaranteed ‘likes’ whenever I post statuses about or photos of my travels. My sister likes to remind me occasionally about how very different our lives currently are, by commenting on my stereotypical feet-pointing-towards-the-sea-beach pictures about how she just cycled to university in the snow. Mostly, however, this reminds me how much I would not like to be studying for a medical degree in deepest darkest Scotland, despite knowing how much more useful to society my baby sister will be in 5 or 10 years time. For now, I will try and limit the amount of pictures I send of glistening waters and post-work beach cocktails, and instead snapchat her my piles of paperwork and cleaning duties!

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