We’re back! The laziest, hottest beach vacation ended as we flew into a chilly London at 1:30 in the morning on Saturday, sleepy and-if you’re Jon-with tans already fading away. (It’s his English skin, it seems to actively reject sun as soon as it comes into contact with the UV rays). Bruce was happy to see us, and we were happy for a few hours’ sleep at the in-laws, and then on to see our little flat , and quick to air out its slight staleness from a week all on its lonesome.
There isn’t much to say about the holiday. We ate seafood, we drank cocktails, I read three books (taking advantage of those uninterrupted hours of sweaty bliss), we siesta’d daily to escape the heat, and swam in the ocean and felt happy and light. It was good. And now England feels downright autumnal in comparison.
-pretty picture heavy, so click more below to see the rest-
Bath! I’m already planning a return trip to that beautiful city. It seems so different from so many of the other historical, popular cities in England-all white Georgian architecture everywhere, oozing with history and beauty and all that jazz. Not to say that the rest of England isn’t historical, we all know that it is, but there’s something….special about Bath. I dig it.
The Tenerife saga comes to a close with our day trip to three villages in the north of the island (I know, you’ve been waiting with bated breath! I’m only two months late!). This was a truly remarkable little trip, and we spent an entire day on a little bus with a group of pensioners/retired people, the nicest old English woman (who now calls Tenerife home and served as the tour guide), and the most cheerful bus driver in the entire world. Lindsey and I were the only Americans and everyone was so nice to us-once again, being possibly the only Americans who have ever set foot in Tenerife really worked in our favor. Mostly everyone was confused. But sweet! Ah, well.
So first-Masca. After spending a few hours climbing the most narrow, winding streets possible in the tour bus (it was….uncomfortable and scary, to say the least) we were greeted with the most amazing view-high above the clouds, looking down on the winding roads we’d just traversed, with the tiniest village tucked between the peaks, clouds swirling around us. This was Masca, a village unknown to the world until the 1960s, and only recently made accessible to the general public. Even now, only around 80 people call the village home.
El Teide is the highest volcano in Spain, and the third highest in the world, so I was pretty keen to check it out and take a break from the lazy boozing Lindsey and I had been doing up until that point! It’s intensely scary getting up there-being in a small bus on narrow mountain roads with plenty of hairpin turns (sometimes having to do 3 point turns just to get around a road that virtually turns back on itself) for a few hours was enough to make anyone feel sick. Fortunately, closer to the peak it sort of flattens out, which I found interesting (I’m not expert in volcanic topography, as you can see). From there, you have the opportunity to take a cable car up to the very tippity-top, but Lindsey and I were both feeling a little queasy by that point and were more than happy to stay where we were. I don’t think we missed out on much, really!
Yesterday Lindsey and I returned from our week long sojourn to the Canarian Island of Tenerife. It was hot, sunny, relaxing and even included an adventure or two (volcanoes, hidden secret villages, wine tasting in tiny vineyards, stuff like that).
When I was in Ohio in September-which, whoa, how was that seriously nearly 2 months ago now?- this beautiful woman was totally down for hangouts at the drop of a hat. We’ve got the sort of friendship thing going at this period of life where I know that nothing important will change between us because I’m away, and that we can pick up where we’ve left off, no matter how long it’s been since our last face to face. And at this time in my existence, and with the whole “up and moved sticks to the UK” thing, it’s also nice knowing that she is one of my few friends who isn’t completely devoted to a landlocked American life (aka, you can bet your ass we’ll be seeing each other not just in Ohio during this lifetime). I would never deign to only be friends with people who travel (never never), but it’s so reassuringly wonderful to know when you’ve got a few comrades that you can be counted on to meet here and there around the way-and it’s not all on my shoulders to keep friendships alive. I really appreciate that. I don’t know what I’d do without it.
Anyway, with a busy week nearly behind me, I found myself looking at photos tonight from that visit. September seems far away. And I just have to say I miss my friend.
In January we will drink drinks and have talks and do alllll the thrifting. I am thinking of you.