Shoreditch is a bit of a funny one for me. Almost every time I have been to Shoreditch I have cried. Not because I hate it, just because I always get lost there...and when I get lost I panic, and when I panic I burst into tears. I often find that getting those tears out then gives me clarity to actually figure out where I am and where I'm going, I guess like all things in life?
So in proper Catherine-in-Shoreditch tradition, I also cried at The Curtain. I wish I could say it was out of happiness because it was so beautiful (it was beautiful!), but actually it's because it was so freezing cold I couldn't swim in the rooftop pool.
How's that for a first world problem?
