Colours

If you’ve ever taken a look at my Instagram account you know that I’m not exactly one for muted, soft tones. I love bright colours, vibrant reds and blues and yellows. My winter jacket is lime green, so that has to tell you something. I’ve often written about my love of bright colours on this blog, always highlighting different hues I’ve found around the world.

I started noticing brightly-coloured photos of an adorable vintage-inspired amusement park on Instagram about two months ago. It was aptly named Dreamland, and I quickly discovered it was located in the coastal city of Margate, in England’s region of Kent. Less than two hours away by train from London, I started to plan a weekend trip or even a day off in order to go and experience the place for myself; it just looked like too much fun to not see it in person. Less than a week later, fate intervened, as Visit England wrote to me and asked if I’d like to visit Dreamland on their behalf.

It seems like every time you turn on the news there’s a new story of tragedy and loss. How amazing, then, to get some absolutely great news from America at the end of last week – that same-sex marriage is now legal in every state. I’m not American, and proud to be from a country that has supported gay marriage for some time, but I consider this a huge step forward for the world in general.

It was fitting then, that only the next day the world celebrated with pride parades. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to celebrate in a parade, but I think I got the next best thing: the Rainbow Panorama in Aarhus, Denmark.

There are some places in the world that are defined by their colours, or their lack of colours. The city of Cairo, for example, remains muted and dusty in my mind, its smells and sounds the predominant senses. Havana, on the other hand, was bursting with colour: fruit spilling out of cartons, graffitied walls, outfits of the brightest oranges and yellows and reds, and, of course, the cars. I couldn’t stop taking photos of it.

When I walked out of my hostel in Rangoon all those years ago, I couldn’t stop whirling around, taking in all of my surroundings. I felt overcome by my senses: the jangling of the sugar cane man’s bells, the smell of frying vegetables, the air so thick and humid I could open my mouth and drink it in. And the colours, too, drip-drying at the laundry and splashed across markets and swirled on the faces of those around me.

But what about in London?

Do you know what they say about people who love the colour red? They’re impulsive, outgoing, aggressive at times. They have a strong zest for life. They tend to be extremely optimistic, but hate monotony and crave change. They are passionate and strong, full of vigour. They are restless. They can be too quick in their decision-making; one might call them rash, hasty. They are determined to get all they can out of life.

Without looking for it, we found blue everywhere in Cartagena – in the walls, the skies, the seas, in the beaded necklaces and the words of poets. But far from melancholy, it was electric. It was, like everything else in Colombia, full of passion, full of vigour and joy.