I'm off on holiday on Saturday with the Intrepids.
Now, normally I blog through my holidays, but this time I've decided not to do that. I'm swapping my phone for a Kindle and my work-mug for a wine glass. And while I could spend a week describing the way a silky Merlot slips between bottle, glass and lips, I think I need a bit of a break from everything for a while - a reset, a recharge, a vacation. So we're off to South West Wales, to the Gower Peninsula, which is all about coastline, cairns, castles and caves. It'll be great!
It's very timely too. This week has felt as though it's tumbled out of an alternate universe. Three surreal things have already crash-landed, and I'm only really certain that two of them have actually happened. But as I hinted yesterday, people are baffling, and it will take me a thousand years to understand some of them - especially when they create situations that are so ludicrous that they look like they might have been painted by Salvador Dali.
Still, two days to go before I get a breather - plenty of time for the parallel universes to keep chucking me odd conversations through the rift. Why do they all have to collide inside the same week? Was there some rip in the space-time-continuum? Am I actually asleep? Will I wake up next week and it'll still be last week?
Seems unlikely. I'm tired too; not sleeping too well (and not just because the neighbours watch bizarre movies at night time). I think, in a strange kind of way, the reason is that I'm afraid of the dark, and specifically afraid of the silence. Read into that what you will.
I shouldn't be afraid of the silence of not writing anything for a week though! I feel certain that that will do me some good, even if it means stirring a tea in a rainy beachside café, or chuckling at the capers of Holmes and Watson while I read without distraction. I think I just need to stop the clocks for a bit, instead of watching them melt over tree-branches and lobster-telephones.
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