Put me on my death bed right now and I would spend most of my time snivelling and trying to get sympathy. In between, if you were silly enough to ask, I would probably recount my life in journeys. Student debt to solvency, single to happily married, starting points, turning points, aspirations. You know, the big stuff. I might not mention which particular diet fads worked or didn't work. I may not remember that mistake I made at work which was not significant but for which I spent nearly an entire week mentally crippling myself. I would definitely not care whether on Tuesday 24 August 2003, someone had remembered to put the bins out.

And yet on a daily basis approximately 90% of my energy is ploughed into just those issues and the bigger picture is....well, a bit over pixelated.

This is fine, I reason. And perfectly rational. What is important however is not to let stuff I won't remember prevent me from finding the time to create the memories I will cherish.

And so....operation no regrets. Beginning with a travelling adventure. Eleven months, eleven counties, two backpacks, myself, my husband and the odd mosquito along for the ride.

Sunday, 15 February 2015

Time Out

I don't have a lot to say today because our finances necessitate a bit of a rest day. As do our blogs. Having spent so long getting caught up with them I am finding that Bali is composed rather more of bursts of activity and 22 hour days amid periods of quiet than its more consistent country counterparts. Where we could explore other places ourselves under our own steam and therefore were out most days but could take an air conditioner break at some point in the midst of them, and record what we experienced, Bali is too spread out for this and we are either out with a tour or stating away and packing our days to see everything in that particular vicinity. And then we really are too busy having the experiences to write about them. So it's a little jerky. And periods like these, to recover physically, financially and blog- writerly (well, you find a better way of saying that!) are indolent in comparison and consist of sitting and writing in slightly different locations with a three hour endurance test mid afternoon when it is simply too hot to do anything including sit indoors because the air conditioning in the wooden cabins maybe knocks off a degree or two from the sweltering outside temperature. If that. And it can't be fixed. We checked. This is as good as it gets. Wood cabins have gaps and cracks and absorb heat. You can't seal them enough for air conditioning to have much of a crack at working.

But that, frankly, is it for today. I spent it writing the blog entries for the incredible week I have just had away. 

It's more industrious than it sounds though. I am up at six when it's cool enough to concentrate and I work for a while on Neville the Novel. Six is a manageable temperature and involves less dizzying (literally) heat. I may become entirely nocturnal. Though that doesn't make the air conditioning work.

I suppose it is freezing in England. I am an ingrate.

And a sweaty one at that.
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