The amount of times I’ve come to my blog to say “I promise to write more” just to bugger off again is almost amusing. 


Since I started travelling in May last year things have been seriously intense. Trying to manage severe depression while halfway around the world, trying to figure out what I want to do with my life, trying to make sure that everything is always perfect regardless of how useless I feel – all this can take it’s toll on a person.

However I’m pleased to say that things are looking up. Especially once I realised that my 300 or so casual followers are OK with me not being perfect. That helped a lot.

So… what am I doing now?

I promised exciting things and I think I can deliver this time. 

Currently I live in London, in a converted hostel above a bar in Camden with my 3 roommates and about 40 million housemates… or 40. I can never quite tell. My last exciting opportunity wasn’t exactly what it was cracked up to be, so now I work for a tech/lifestyle start up and I write London guides for an awesome hostel company. As I write this I realise I should also update the “About me” section. Damn.

Roommates in Camden
The kitchen in our little home

If you had told me a year ago that I’d be rocking out in the city and actually be able to pay my own rent (just) I’m not sure I would have believed you. If you’d told me I’d have grown up enough to manage the issues that caused me hell I would have smiled and been quietly uncertain of how that would ever happen. And if you had dropped into the conversation that someone would be paying me (ME!?) to write things for them I would have said, “Well, duh… I’m awesome.”

Actually, I would have wondered if you’d been confusing me with another human being. But I checked, it’s me.

The last stage of my life had been everything I hoped it wouldn’t be when I left. I still struggled with money. I battled depression, I made horrendous mistakes and I lost an amazing friend due to them. Kieran, if you ever read this, I love you and I’m sorry. But somehow, somewhere, I persevered through it. Guess I’m stronger than I believed… either that or you grow out of stupidity. I think it’s a lot of both.

Now that I’m writing (or organising other peoples writing) for a living, my own little blog doesn’t scare me so much. I don’t have to be perfect or do what I do so that the world stands up and applauds. I just have to do it for me, and for the people out there who want to read it… don’t get me wrong, you guys are more important to me than you may believe.

On that note, I think it time to say that I am back. I shall be writing, blogging, updating and generally tinkering with my baby. I’m probably not going to make money from the Indie Butterfly, but it sure as hell beats bottling everything up inside, or keeping my wonderfully amusing and potentially inane stories to myself. So Expect Stuff dear readers, because that’s what you’re going to get. Stuff about London, stuff about random bits of travel, stuff about life in general that will hopefully make you think, smile or both.

And next time I stop, if someone could please give me a kick in the ass (aim for the left but cheek, I think it’s more sensitive) I would truly appreciate it.

Until the next time and with all my heartfelt thanks,


AKA The Indie Butterfly

banana bread beer