Three months in
A few personal notes on how the year's going
Tomorrow we leave Corsica,
insha
'llah, on the fast boat to Nice. Today we're
being visited by a fairly fierce wind that kicked off last night, slamming the
windows and blowing bins along the street. Paula thinks it's a Mistral and I
think she's probably right. So today's not a perfect day for the beach. I ran
along the harbour front and the beach earlier: there were a few people pegged
out in the sand, and they seemed to be having a surprisingly reasonable
time.
We're getting ready to move on. I posted a couple of large Jiffy bags home this morning and the girls are finishing the larger of their Harry Potter books (the fifth) so that we can leave it here. Paula has packed all of her stuff already and the house is looking glumly tidy.
Tomorrow we overnight in Nice and plan to have dinner with Stephanie and Reynald, whom Zoe and I met on our walk. Seems like a really pleasant way to conclude this phase and break up our journey, and we're all looking forward to it. We know Nice pretty well and it ought to be a comfortable stop-over. Then we get to see our friends Mark and Annette on our final routing through London. We're looking forward to this, too, and to finally leaving the London airports behind. There is a sense in which this will truly seem like breaking off and starting properly.
Partly because of the geography and partly because of our logistical tie to London, these first three months feel like a distinct coherent sector in our travels. We've "done" Africa now and wont return until this year is over, and after Sunday we don't plan to return to Europe until our final month. Between now and then we have North America, South America, Oceania and Asia for about two months each.
If we were on a three month sabbatical and had to return now it would have been a superb break. The alternative three month sabbatical plan that I proposed in Africa would be equally excellent, and the one month walking gig in Corsica would be terrific too. But I needed more than a break - I also needed a change. Having a full year fits in much better with this. For a start, if I was "only" on a three month break the odds are I'd have held onto the same role at work; taking a year off required a change. Also it's been a real luxury not to think about work at all for three months, which I can only afford to do because my return isn't imminent. If you know me from work you'll know that I've universally embargoed news updates (and thanks to everyone for complying!). Yesterday I had the first snippet of work gossip that I was actually interested in (a guy quit). I think I'm recovering my mental balance. More than that, I think I've regained a normal physical metabolism - a process that started three months or so before I left when I took on a more pleasant assignment. I never consciously felt stressed but now I feel happier and more relaxed; the world routinely discloses richer colours and more comfortable places to rest; my mind wanders and I frequently day dream. Normal stuff that I only realised I missed when I rediscovered it.
So the time so far is doubly positive: on the one hand I've left behind a specific experience that I needed to move on from; on the other, I'm having a great time here! Who wouldn't? Learning more about the places we've been to, even Corsica which we know well, seems in every case like the start of something that I hope will continue in the years ahead. Spending time with family has been great too, and over the past year or two this is something I've not been able to do nearly enough of. I don't want you to think that every day is like an episode from The Waltons: obviously, we have our tensions and difficulties, but it's nice to have a year of seeing the girls for many hours every day and getting a better chance to shape how our collective rough edges develop at this important stage in their lives.
I don't yet know how the education thing will work out. So far I'd say that we're on track, and there should be no shortage of formative experiences here that will stay with the girls to enrich the formal work. And they get to hang out with me!
What we shall remember will in all likelihood be what we record. The artefacts that will comprise our little time capsule for the year will include this blog, the girls' newsletters, our photographs and our video footage. If you come round to see us when we return think carefully before asking to see our holiday snaps: if you want to be polite it may be wiser to express a much more specific interest, say in our photo's from Corsica. So far I've compiled (on my mac) a book for each month, and these have been sent out to our parents (and a copy for us). These include around 420 snaps in total for the three months to date, so my advice is stick with the selection on our home page! I'm rubbish with the camcorder so we don't have much video footage. We made a little recording of Dar Bennis and its environs last month and will probably do the same this afternoon here and then keep a simple video record of all the places we stay - and that's it for movies unless one of us gets more competent and interested. This, by the way, is the view from the kitchen balcony, if you face the right way:
When we left home to travel we also left behind all of our routines and regular social interactions. For the girls and me in particular, this was a big change as we normally chat with a lot of familiar faces every day. As you would expect, the people that you see most often at home are not the same as the people who write to you most while you're away and our friendships are developing accordingly. When you're away your best friend isn't the person you've known for several years or the person you used to see every day, it's the last person who sent you an email or a text. If there are any generalities that hold true here, one thing that I've noticed is that I tend to be in closer contact now with friends whom I spoke with less frequently when I was at home. In any case, our email/text friendships are different from face-to-face ones, don't you think? Anyway, we all like to hear from you - the girls especially - and I'd thank all of you who are in touch as frequently as you were at home.
Paula's experience in this regard is a little different. Although she has plenty of friends she enjoys chatting with, her days at home are pretty much her own to direct, especially since moving to Somerset. Of all of us, she was thus probably the most apprehensive about being bundled together en famille all day long each day for a year. Fortunately, she's finding that she generally likes it!
Regarding the blog, I have a specific request. I think that I've mentioned before that it's intriguing to know who is reading it, and how. I hope you don't mind this simile: writing the blog and then reading email is like being on a ship (like the ferry we came on from Marseilles) and looking out of the window each morning to see the birds on the rail. There are some who are there most days and some who are there every couple of weeks and some who fly past and then move on. All very welcome. But you only get a very partial sense of which birds are travelling with the ship. So my request is that you tell me something about how frequently you visit the site, how much of it you read (evidently some!), and if you haven't written to me for a while just drop me line to say you're still checking in. Mike pointed me towards some software that can give me hard data - I downloaded it last month but haven't yet got round to installing it. In any case, I'd welcome your account.
I wondered before I left if I'd miss anything other than friends. Well there are a few things that I miss a little; off the top of my head these are: our house; Somerset, London (a shade) and New York (a shade more); driving my car; Starbucks (don't know why because the coffee isn't that great); and sushi/sashimi.
Finally thanks to Kim and Mike for identifying the primary ingredient (sansonnet) in the terrine I mentioned the other day: it's starling. Very tasty.
We're getting ready to move on. I posted a couple of large Jiffy bags home this morning and the girls are finishing the larger of their Harry Potter books (the fifth) so that we can leave it here. Paula has packed all of her stuff already and the house is looking glumly tidy.
Tomorrow we overnight in Nice and plan to have dinner with Stephanie and Reynald, whom Zoe and I met on our walk. Seems like a really pleasant way to conclude this phase and break up our journey, and we're all looking forward to it. We know Nice pretty well and it ought to be a comfortable stop-over. Then we get to see our friends Mark and Annette on our final routing through London. We're looking forward to this, too, and to finally leaving the London airports behind. There is a sense in which this will truly seem like breaking off and starting properly.
Partly because of the geography and partly because of our logistical tie to London, these first three months feel like a distinct coherent sector in our travels. We've "done" Africa now and wont return until this year is over, and after Sunday we don't plan to return to Europe until our final month. Between now and then we have North America, South America, Oceania and Asia for about two months each.
If we were on a three month sabbatical and had to return now it would have been a superb break. The alternative three month sabbatical plan that I proposed in Africa would be equally excellent, and the one month walking gig in Corsica would be terrific too. But I needed more than a break - I also needed a change. Having a full year fits in much better with this. For a start, if I was "only" on a three month break the odds are I'd have held onto the same role at work; taking a year off required a change. Also it's been a real luxury not to think about work at all for three months, which I can only afford to do because my return isn't imminent. If you know me from work you'll know that I've universally embargoed news updates (and thanks to everyone for complying!). Yesterday I had the first snippet of work gossip that I was actually interested in (a guy quit). I think I'm recovering my mental balance. More than that, I think I've regained a normal physical metabolism - a process that started three months or so before I left when I took on a more pleasant assignment. I never consciously felt stressed but now I feel happier and more relaxed; the world routinely discloses richer colours and more comfortable places to rest; my mind wanders and I frequently day dream. Normal stuff that I only realised I missed when I rediscovered it.
So the time so far is doubly positive: on the one hand I've left behind a specific experience that I needed to move on from; on the other, I'm having a great time here! Who wouldn't? Learning more about the places we've been to, even Corsica which we know well, seems in every case like the start of something that I hope will continue in the years ahead. Spending time with family has been great too, and over the past year or two this is something I've not been able to do nearly enough of. I don't want you to think that every day is like an episode from The Waltons: obviously, we have our tensions and difficulties, but it's nice to have a year of seeing the girls for many hours every day and getting a better chance to shape how our collective rough edges develop at this important stage in their lives.
I don't yet know how the education thing will work out. So far I'd say that we're on track, and there should be no shortage of formative experiences here that will stay with the girls to enrich the formal work. And they get to hang out with me!
What we shall remember will in all likelihood be what we record. The artefacts that will comprise our little time capsule for the year will include this blog, the girls' newsletters, our photographs and our video footage. If you come round to see us when we return think carefully before asking to see our holiday snaps: if you want to be polite it may be wiser to express a much more specific interest, say in our photo's from Corsica. So far I've compiled (on my mac) a book for each month, and these have been sent out to our parents (and a copy for us). These include around 420 snaps in total for the three months to date, so my advice is stick with the selection on our home page! I'm rubbish with the camcorder so we don't have much video footage. We made a little recording of Dar Bennis and its environs last month and will probably do the same this afternoon here and then keep a simple video record of all the places we stay - and that's it for movies unless one of us gets more competent and interested. This, by the way, is the view from the kitchen balcony, if you face the right way:
When we left home to travel we also left behind all of our routines and regular social interactions. For the girls and me in particular, this was a big change as we normally chat with a lot of familiar faces every day. As you would expect, the people that you see most often at home are not the same as the people who write to you most while you're away and our friendships are developing accordingly. When you're away your best friend isn't the person you've known for several years or the person you used to see every day, it's the last person who sent you an email or a text. If there are any generalities that hold true here, one thing that I've noticed is that I tend to be in closer contact now with friends whom I spoke with less frequently when I was at home. In any case, our email/text friendships are different from face-to-face ones, don't you think? Anyway, we all like to hear from you - the girls especially - and I'd thank all of you who are in touch as frequently as you were at home.
Paula's experience in this regard is a little different. Although she has plenty of friends she enjoys chatting with, her days at home are pretty much her own to direct, especially since moving to Somerset. Of all of us, she was thus probably the most apprehensive about being bundled together en famille all day long each day for a year. Fortunately, she's finding that she generally likes it!
Regarding the blog, I have a specific request. I think that I've mentioned before that it's intriguing to know who is reading it, and how. I hope you don't mind this simile: writing the blog and then reading email is like being on a ship (like the ferry we came on from Marseilles) and looking out of the window each morning to see the birds on the rail. There are some who are there most days and some who are there every couple of weeks and some who fly past and then move on. All very welcome. But you only get a very partial sense of which birds are travelling with the ship. So my request is that you tell me something about how frequently you visit the site, how much of it you read (evidently some!), and if you haven't written to me for a while just drop me line to say you're still checking in. Mike pointed me towards some software that can give me hard data - I downloaded it last month but haven't yet got round to installing it. In any case, I'd welcome your account.
I wondered before I left if I'd miss anything other than friends. Well there are a few things that I miss a little; off the top of my head these are: our house; Somerset, London (a shade) and New York (a shade more); driving my car; Starbucks (don't know why because the coffee isn't that great); and sushi/sashimi.
Finally thanks to Kim and Mike for identifying the primary ingredient (sansonnet) in the terrine I mentioned the other day: it's starling. Very tasty.
Posted: Fri - July 1, 2005 at 07:04 PM
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Published On: Feb 08, 2006 06:20 PM
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Published On: Feb 08, 2006 06:20 PM