Here is a pretty picture of a door knocker, taken in the hot August streets of Pamplona. I am sick in bed, sliding gently into 2013. Tucked under my duvet, surrounded by my manuscript, Battleborn and a scary French book about linguistics - that I have promised myself I'll read - I alternately groan, rewrite paragraphs and window shop food blogs. I am nursing a bad head and wearing thick socks. Still, it's cosy in here. Bonne année.
