After I returned from Chiang Mai, I packed a bag and booked a flight back to Europe. I spent two weeks in the UK seeing friends and family. It was a surreal time, a return to the at times bland normality of British life tempered only by being surrounded by people I liked and loved. Then I took the Eurostar to Paris and spent another three weeks travelling across Europe, visiting various galleries, and seeing if my design mojo could save me from despair: The Louvre in Paris, The Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, The Hermitage in St Petersburg, The Gemaldegalerie in Berlin, and on and on until I reached the Uffizi Gallery in Florence.
By that point I was immersed and drowning in some of the world’s greatest art, but I had found something inside me again that I knew would allow me to continue. And I
