Sometimes the days go by and are all different, and sometimes the opposite is true. It is the same with years. The month of August has been for a few years now the time when I start packing, tidying up, sorting out (to prevent unnecessary accumulation), organizing (the trip). This year, I am preparing for spring and then having the time of my life in an antipodean summer. I realize that I haven’t had a real summer since 2016, I find myself thinking very often now about the hot season, about suntan and swimming. Living in New Zealand right now feels like you are lucky, despite the new outbreak, when not living in Auckland. Daily life has changed very little. I enjoy living in a small town, where there is not much lacking (except elastic for masks). For a few weeks now I have been going to charity shops to find fabric and elastic for masks, I am exploring the fifth generation of masks at the moment, always looking for a comfortable mask, not too hot nor too tight, I make them for family and neighbours. I am also learning the art of oiling a sewing machine on youtube. This year, most of all, I have learned to appreciate each passing day. Still, I can’t wait to get my feet in the water.
Archives par mot-clé : travel
haiku*
o
risking suffering
if you open the letter
and also if you don’t
*posted first in July 2029, reviewed in June 2020
Cordoba
A moment of emotion in the mezquita in Cordoba. The beauty, the mastery of construction techniques, the use of different marbles and different colors, then the visit of La Juderia, all around the mezquita, helped to make our day in Cordoba unforgettable during the trip of 2019. Lisboa
I had preconceived images of Lisbon, full ofcolours, like these beautiful tiles, found everywhere in the city. Yet, when you look at the city from one of the many viewpoints where you can admire the whole city, it is white and Marseilles tiles that are dominating. It is always interesting and strange to compare images we have of a place and its reality (which has not disappointed me at all), to which we must adapt, in a way. The Portuguese of Lisbon are welcoming, the city is just big enough, clean, it feels safe, cafes abound and you can get lost for hours. LG and I, however, took two days to recover from the jetlag, after an extremely tiring journey (30 hours of flight and 10 hours of waiting in the airports of Auckland, Singapore and Barcelona).
Somewhere between Nelson and Lisbon
Somewhere between Nelson and Lisbon via Auckland and Barcelona. Some articles are already online for the next few days, until the vagaries of the internet allow me to put something online and respond to comments. I have not thought about the form of the posts during this trip, just following theinspiration of the moment.
Poetically yours