I am still alive, if you were wondering. It’s rare that I’m too busy to blog for more than a day or two, but this week has been that sort of exception. However, I’m almost up there now, as long as I do the washing ready to be off again next week. Back to back holidays aren’t an unmixed blessing.
It seems so long ago already, yet on Monday afternoon I was lying reading, rather greasy after an aromatherapy massage, two thousand miles away. It was a lovely place and a week was not long enough, though I think we made the most of our holiday, including time spent simply relaxing. On the last morning, I went and bought various herbs and spices to bring home. The woman from whom I bought walnuts, dried figs and garlic evidently did well out of me, because Wink and I received kisses when we said goodbye. But it was a lot cheaper than here, I don’t mind in the least if she made a good profit. It’s when you are a bit off the tourist trail and talk to the people who have grown the food you’re buying that you feel a connection with a place and those who live there.
I’m still a bit wiped out, it’s been quite a week. It’s fine though, all in hand (this is sheer bravado and said with fingers crossed, or they will be as soon as I’ve finished typing). I’ve got a plate wobbling, but it’s not up to me whether or not it drops. I’ve given all the others a good spin and they should last, as long as I check them.
I’m not a bit ready to go to Holland, except for changing Euros. Well, I’m a bit ready. I’ve got my ticket, money, passport, books. All I need is toothbrush and clothes, really. Oh, and I’ve got a lift to the airport, which will be early morning. Holland. Salty liquorice, gingerbread and chocolate are the presents my family can expect from me.