hell! I am Megan. my belly is full with rosemary chicken and Asian pasta salad and a hazelnut tea cake and coffee.
The Docklands are a foreign country to me.
I arrived yesterday at five o clock but wandered around for an hour before that, knocking on doors of alternative universe door number 403s, being shouted at by men. When you are alone and lost, the Docklands are scarily anonymous and new and vast.But under the firm but playful wing of Maebh ni Shiosta they become smaller and more human and seem paved with opportunity. For instance, after my weary traipsing, Maebh made me a cup of Earl Grey Tea, and we ventured out to a square where we saw a cluster of our friends by the Mr. Whippy. Only a few minutes before, the scale of the area was oppressive and frightening, but now, it is filled with adorably human humans.
