White lady

Today I was largely head down to meet an end-of-the-week deadline, broken up by a lunchtime stretch of the legs with Katie. She was working successfully as a buyer when her relationship ended, and instead of moping, she went to volunteer with a marine project in the Seychelles. This led onto manta ray and whale shark projects in the Pacific and Indian Oceans, and a complete change of tack.

I work with people who've done awesome things, and who have always got interesting stories to tell. You can't grab a glass of water without stumbling on an anecdote about Niger, manatees or India.

I received an email from one of our government counterparts in South Sudan about a 'White lady.' A Norwegian woman has arrived in Yambio claiming to be a tourist but she's more likely to be a researcher or journalist. I'll find out more when I go in December. The capitalisation of 'white' as if it is her name, had me howling at my desk.

Then I was further distracted by my email archive and hilarious messages I'd squirrelled away over the years. Then I refocused on the pressing deadline.

The picture is of the River Cam as I cycled to meet Sam for breakfast. She too, is a White lady.