It’s exhausting, this holiday lark, especially when you add in bereavement, grief, socializing, long hours in the car, ME… Not that I’m complaining (there’s a first!), time just relaxing in Cornwall was wonderful; but I’d love a Star Trek type teleporter that simply transports me to/ from my own bed.
The holiday was truncated but filled with busyness and company. Sometimes I welcomed that; other times I could have seen it far enough. I liked being away from my own world; I wanted to curl up and mope on my sofa. I enjoyed the company; I wanted to be in my own world. I didn’t have to think about my mother’s health the whole time; I wanted to talk about her all the time. I didn’t have to look for Chanel No5 in duty free; I walked round with a £50 bottle of perfume in my sweaty palm for about 10 minutes before I could put it back on the shelf.
You’ll be relieved to hear that there are sunny holiday posts coming up; it was far from being gloom and doom. There was actual sunshine, and swimming, and lazing, and wine drinking.
There was playing.
There was fancy dress. (Happily, no images of me dressed in a football shirt exist.)
All my grumbling about travelling hides the fact that going away is well worth the effort. Go now.