A Change is as Good as a Rest
A brief sojourn in England (with a week in Tenerife in the middle) and all of a sudden I’m writing again. My book Hidden Two is moving on, the characters have woken up and are telling their story.
I had left Menton at the end of the first week of the Fête du Citron, to escape the crowds. After a week in England, we travelled to Tenerife only to find that our trip coincided with the last week of the Tenerife Festival in Santa Cruz (luckily we were staying in Los Cristianos).
During a shopping trip in Santa Cruz, we found ourselves accompanied by people of all ages dressed in animal onesies, crowds of women and girls dressed in white (the significance of which we never discovered) and a group of flamenco dancers with shoulders bigger than Geoff Capes and more make-up on their faces than I’ve used in my entire life. That was the day that it rained. It poured to the extent that the evening's celebration had to be cancelled. We sheltered from the rain at one of the stalls cooking on a massive barbecue, inadequately protected by multiple umbrellas. There was enough food to feed the 5000, without the aid of any miracles.
When the rain had slowed enough, we took a taxi to El Corto Ingles, a department store with eight floors of things to buy. It didn’t disappoint (although the bank manager may have a different view). The taxi was a necessary indulgence, the thought of an hour on the bus in wet clothes, back to Los Cristianos, was not a tempting option.
The sun was certainly hot when it came out — as demonstrated by red faces and stripey limbs—but the temperature was dramatically different as soon as it went behind a cloud. It was not really sunbathing weather but on the beaches people lay lined up on loungers, valiantly ignoring the sandstorm whipped up by the wind. We walked along the coast joining the many who regularly walk and run, or ride in and on buggies of different shapes and sizes, accommodating young and old alike: able bodied babies and less able oldies.
Walking to the market in Los Cristianos, the jacaranda was just coming into bloom—my favourite tree. I wonder if one would grow in my garden... The market was as busy, crowded and chaotic as usual and I bought several items that I didn’t need, but I’m sure they'll come in useful.
The week passed very quickly and in no time we were heading to the airport for the return trip.
Back in England there was a day in Norfolk; pubs, Sunday lunch; trips to Tesco, M&S, John Lewis; get-togethers with friends and family; daily walks along the river (with an imaginary dog); spring flowers, burgeoning buds, emerging forsythia... Walking the same route that I took when I had dogs, there were chance meetings with people I haven’t seen for some time. Like Julia, who gave me shelter, tea and chocolate biscuits when we were soddened by a sudden heavy downpour and Maggie and Glenda, who were getting ready for their morning of tidying in the churchyard at Saint Andrews, a task I used to enjoy before moving to Menton. Perhaps, next time I’m in England on the third Saturday of the month, I’ll find a rake and some secateurs and go and help them.
England treated me to some chilly but sunny weather and in spite of feeling at times that my feet weren’t touching the ground — as always I was trying to fit too much in—all in all, the whole trip was fun and rejuvenating. I’ve caught up with friends and time spent with family in England and Tenerife was very special.
It has all been a bit hectic, but as they say, it a change is as good as the rest.
It’s a process, but I do believe that I can have the best of both worlds.
An eclectic mix of reading material accompanied me:
My own books are all available from Amazon or can be ordered through your favourite bookshop
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| The Barwell Trilogy |
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