I would be lying if I said that I could still feel the Caribbean Sea breeze in my hair and taste the watermelon I had somewhere along the Jungle Road in Tulum on a long, languid bicycle ride whilst holidaying in Mexico. We went to Xel-Ha for the day, holding hands as we snorkelled around the aquatic nature reserve, taking time out of life, envious of the bright blue fishes that toiled in the deep blue sea. We lounged by pools. We read many books. We did things that we had never done before in our lives. We jet-skied. We ate many weird and wonderful foods that were off the map, off the beaten path of easy dining and left our tummies dazed, confused, satisfied, full. We drank many odd gin & tonics. Like rocks at a coconut shy, we holidayed hard. We were tourists, people watching like spectators at a Seaworld gig.
Being away makes you remember how bleak Winter time can be. The sky today looks like grey soupy cotton wool. The world outside my door has lost colour and warmth. The pot stirs with incandescent memories of my jolie vacances to Mexico, as I am quarantined with flu, reading ‘Wool’ by Howard Howey.
Next Christmas we plan fly and run until hurts, sleep for a while and speak no words… in Australia! How magical. Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever imagined that I would travel so far (that’s true). The days when getting out of bed seemed like landing on the moon, have not yet faded. The road to happiness is weird, awkward, chaotic, dark, electrifying, terrifying, maudlin, sage, savage and unlit.
Navigating a life less ordinary is not easy. Having a partner and many beautiful, kind, warm and wild friends makes it easier.