I don't live in the same city as my sister

The London diary of long-distance sisters, and a whole lot of 'is that my t-shirt?' kind of talks.

Last Tuesday, I took a 4pm flight to London. My little sister (it’s handy to mention that we are 11 months apart) just moved there. It’s insane how big this city is. People say Amsterdam is big, but London is endless. I caught the Elizabeth line in the middle of rush hour. Got out on the Liverpool street, sky-scrappers all around, and my sister called, and said I see you. We walked to her flat, and her boyfriend put on the Tribe Called Quest vinyl. Tulips on the kitchen window counter. I was eating chocolate-covered digestives and sour candy, and discussing which furniture we’ll buy for their flat.

On Wednesday, I woke up at 6:40 am. Klara’s room soaked in sun. I walked to a pilates class, and stopped by Jolene afterwards. Picked up baguettes and pastries. Bumped into Klara on her way to work, all dolled up. London skyline in the background. Worked all day from the kitchen table and made pasta for dinner, spicy mafaldine with olives and zucchini. Then we went to the Wombats show. Those first few beats of Moving to New York. I like nothing more than being a girl at a concert with my sister next to me.

On Thursday morning, we were getting ready, and my sister was wearing our mum’s grey tweed blazer. Why didn’t I get that blazer? Haha, classic. But yes, yes, truthfully, it fits her better. After work, I walked around the Hackney canals. 18 degrees. Parks were full. Pubs even fuller. I text my sister to ask if I can wear her jacket. Then I meet her at the pub, and we stand outside, beer glasses on the window sills. Inside, I swear it smells like those aprés-ski chalets; mix of wood and beer. But in a good way. Then we got bagels on the way home. Salted beef and cream cheese.

On Friday, I took a day off. We did a reformer class. Ballet flats and leggings cause I forgot my sneakers. Browsed around the shops until she got ready, then we walked, I don’t know, like 25k all around East London. Stopped to get lunch at the Towpath café; chicken soup, sausage and lentils, and an apple tart with double cream. And we didn’t get the table we liked, so we asked to be moved. Haha. Don’t ask, don’t get. And shall we get some wine? Yes, yes obviously! ♡ There were daffodils in the little vase between us. Then we walked passed rhubarb stalls, and private gardens around Russel Square.

On Saturday, I made an apple and ginger crumble for breakfast. We carried coffee mugs from upstairs to downstairs while we got dressed, curled our hair, and called our mum. My sister and I never finish our coffees.

Then, it was time for a flea market and Klara bought grey cargo Ganni pants. We walked to Café Cecilia, through Hackney streets lined with townhouses. We had a steak with creamy peppercorn sauce, Scotch eggs, and a trout with artichokes. And a Guinness bread ice cream. Thunderstorms started. We hid in the Chesham Arms pub, and there was a birthday party next to us. They had a huge homemade Victoria sponge cake on the table. We got ginger beers, and IPAa, and talked about Chiara Ferragni and Fedez (I don’t wanna hear a bad word about Chiara), before walking home past parks that smelled like spring and wild garlic.

On Sunday, we went to the Columbia road market, and I ate my first ever Sunday roast. First and most definitely not last. Then on Monday, before I took a tube to Heathrow, I met up with Klara in front of her office. She prepared me a lunch package with all snacks imaginable. Deliciously Ella galore. Then we walked to the station, said bye. See you back home for Easter. Then I got on the Elizabeth line, read the Good Girl by Aria Aber (very goood!), ate my snacks, called our mother, texted my sister, took a flight, landed to Amsterdam, got a taxi, turned to my street, looked up, and my boyfriend was smiling and waving to me from the window. ♡

When I told you I like writing things down cause otherwise I’ll forget it—this is what I meant. All of these things are so mundane; all those pilates classes, beers after work, bagel runs, and looking at each other’s outfits and saying aaa that’s new, where did you get it?! It’s just that I don’t see my sister everyday. And I can’t just text her and say, wanna have a dinner at mine tonight? I like the girliness of it all. The sleepovers, the mugs of coffee, the can I use the curling iron talk. It’s endlessly cozy.

Thank you for reading! ♡ I hope you liked it. Have a wonderful Sunday, and plan a nice weekend, or trip with your sister, mum or best friend. Hope you got some ideas. Lots lots of love!