Oxford University physicist, Managing Director, 75 countries visited and claimed, fashion icon, stamps lover, postbox pervert, Eurovision fanatic. She did and loved so much in such a short time. World Dictator was the end goal but sadly/thankfully she didn't quite manage that.

I will never forget the moment I first saw her. I was sitting behind my desk and this beautiful, bizarre, colourful-haired, shiny, peacock lady walked through the door and I had no idea of what to make of her. I had never seen anything quite like her before but knew I liked it.

That was always the first thing anyone noticed. How could you not? You could see her coming a mile off and you could never be sure of which style you were going to get. Goth, Grandmother, all the colours, Victorian mourner, steampunk, colour goth, lady of the night… Nobody looked quite like her.

Constanze was aggressively Northern. She was stubborn and no nonsense. You knew when you were in trouble, either from 'the 'I'm pissed off at you teapot stance' or just from her demeanor as she desperately tried to hide her 'I want to call you a fucking moron' face. She had the worst poker face and was a terrible liar but you knew where you were.

She was thoughtful, loving, and kind. If she picked you, you knew. She was a rockstar. Her levels of confidence and self-belief (they were not misguided) was amazing and something that I and so many others envied.

Her health gave her so many opportunities to make excuses, to give up, to be afraid but she saw every new setback as a challenge. Something to overcome and a problem that required solutions. She was all about maths, science, and cold hard data.

There is always a desire to label people such as her as a fighter but she was always rallying against such terms as they suggested those who didn't get as many years as she had had somehow failed. Her life was prolonged by drugs, exceptional doctors, nurses, and luck. She was always aware of how fortunate she was to be given so much extra time and was always minded to use it.

She was also weird. Quite, quite weird. One recent example is that she was due to have an operation on her throat in January so she could once again roar. She was told she couldn't have a general anesthetic due to her lungs and asked the doctor if they could set up a mirror so she could watch the operation. Who else would want to watch? But the opportunity was exciting and too good to pass up. The doctor's face was a familiar expression of 'what the fuck?'. Constanze tended to bring out the 'what the fuck' face. She was always so curious, mischievous and looked at things differently from normal people.

It was only during the last year or so when her body was breaking and her lungs failing, that she had to accept the idea of rest and recuperation, and yet she still managed one last solo trip to India, Vietnam, the US. She had too much to do. Too many places to visit. Too many friends to entertain.

She didn't stop until the very end..

The world is now a less colourful, vibrant, and noisy place. Tea brands will go bust, frozen food companies will suffer and those who liked and loved her will never forget her but if she had a say right now, she would be arms crossed saying 'I'm dead. Stop being sad and just get on with it.'

If you would like to donate to the selected charities in memory of Constanze, please do so here.