From the innards of Bush House

There is something magical about writing a blog entry from inside Bush House in London. I have probably been in love with the BBC World Service since I was 10 years old when I used to hear From Our Own Correspondent on a Saturday morning with my mum. Now, I'm 28 and finally sitting inside the building, my brain filled up with training's and ideas and the beginnings of something. It is a something involving Burma.

I'm talking Burma, but thinking Myanmar. I am unable to comprehend the shifting landscape from here in London. Last week, my old newspaper published a supplement that might almost have been a real newspaper - complete with political prisoners and mention of the conflict with the ethnic groups. Hilary Clinton is set to visit next week. 200 political prisoners have been freed. People are talking about a Burmese thaw and how transitional justice can fit into the system.

However, my day of contemplating the new Burma was, in typical Beckilina style, more of a continuation of yesterday, than a proper stand-alone day. London is always a whirlwind - part jetlag, part long lost friendship and part adjustment to walking the wrong way down streets.

After another day of training at my other new office, two friends and I met at 6pm in Russell Square to catch up. At 4am this morning, two of us finally finished talking our way back into each other's lives. I think I might have given up the thrill of meeting new people. Old friends are far superior. Which is where I am off to now.... dinner and hopefully a relatively early night, so I can wake up and do it all again tomorrow.