February 01, 2011
London...not calling
I couldn't be happier to be back from London, not because I was in London, but because I'm back. But who invented winter tourism? Whose idea was it? In winter, you can only go from the Canary Islands downwards, anything else is suicide. They ask you how your trip was, and all you can think to say is H-O-W C-O-L-D over and over again.
The thing is, I went for work and extended it for tourism, but I'm getting older, I'm getting older by the day, by the moment, I would dare say. I've realized that I no longer find the sink with two taps amusing (one with freezing water and the other with scalding water – how does one act in such a situation?), the omnipresent brown sauce on food (the smells of Spitafields, once trendy and cool for me, today forced me to walk with a glove over my mouth), and the perennial danger of being run over (crossing the street gives me a stiff neck from looking left and right at hummingbird speed to avoid dying like a pigeon).
In reality, it's probably all due to the bad mood caused by the intense cold, because the Consort asked me how on earth I had survived there for two years, and I explained that when I was there it wasn't cold, it hardly rained, and I gained about 5 kilos eating delicious butter with bread. How memory filters out bad memories, right?
Hugs,
The Countess who will change her mind about the world in spring.
The thing is, I went for work and extended it for tourism, but I'm getting older, I'm getting older by the day, by the moment, I would dare say. I've realized that I no longer find the sink with two taps amusing (one with freezing water and the other with scalding water – how does one act in such a situation?), the omnipresent brown sauce on food (the smells of Spitafields, once trendy and cool for me, today forced me to walk with a glove over my mouth), and the perennial danger of being run over (crossing the street gives me a stiff neck from looking left and right at hummingbird speed to avoid dying like a pigeon).
In reality, it's probably all due to the bad mood caused by the intense cold, because the Consort asked me how on earth I had survived there for two years, and I explained that when I was there it wasn't cold, it hardly rained, and I gained about 5 kilos eating delicious butter with bread. How memory filters out bad memories, right?
Hugs,
The Countess who will change her mind about the world in spring.