Thursday 8 October 2015

Holidays are hard work




Yeh I know, get out the violins.

A whole month in London and it's been bloody marvelous.

About the first thing I did, after I found my feet and popped onto the wifi and got a phone card and a supply of toilet paper,  was buy a calendar / diary so I could make a bit of a plan. Yeh I know I could use the calendar on my phone, but I need to see at least a week at once, cos I am so old fashioned.

At home I've got a London Calendar that has people's birthdays circled and that's about it. I dutifully write some appointments on it but I can usually manage to remember all that is going on.

But here I am going like a whirlie-gig flitting from one tourist destination to another and having a wonderful time catching up with friends and revisiting favourite cafes and restaurants.

I have given the metal knees an excellent work out and have given the booze a bit of a nudge, so I suppose my poor old liver is getting workout too.

Unless you are on a lazing on a beach holiday, where the only activity needed is to roll over and turn the page on your magazine, most people really cram in as much as possible so they don't miss out on anything. All too often at the end of the holiday we need a holiday.

Another whole month and I plan to continue as I've started.

It's only to be expected I suppose, but the more you do the more you find to do. So I arrived with a pretty long list and even though I have crossed some things off, at the same time I am adding to the list and I reckon it is longer now than before I trundled off the plane.

If I allow myself to become sanguine about missing stuff, then that would give me an excuse to slow down, but bugger that! There's plenty of time to sleep when I get home.

But that's not to say that I am unhappy to have spent today with my feet up, popping on some washing, fighting with the bloody washing machine and useless combined drier, so that I can pack a little bag so I can head off south tomorrow on another little adventure.

Where's my wee bag and a clean pair of knickers then? Let's go!

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