Itchy Feet

(Ship moored up the river Fal)

This morning, as I write, sun shimmers on the rippling water, Flushing ferry carries giggling schoolchildren and boats toss gently, itching to be off their moorings. It’s a day for boating, and adventure. A sparkling day when anything could happen.

In one of the nationals last weekend was a piece that caught my eye about secret islands in the Med. Then I started reading A Thousand Days in Venice by Marlena de Blasi which is a beautifully written account of a middle aged woman’s love affair with Venice – and how she married a Venetian (and has stayed happily married, for those cynical readers).

She writes so magically, she’s connected to something in my brain so that at 3am, I was feverishly covering scraps of yellow paper with words that tumbled from my mind, insisting on making their mark.

Her descriptions of Venice have given me wanderlust. So, I want to go back to the Greek islands. I want to go to Venice. Portugal, perhaps? Turkey? Another friend’s going to Cuba in November. All these wonderful places to go and see….

I haven’t been abroad for many years. Pip wasn’t keen on any travel that didn’t involve a boat, and our last few trips further afield weren’t a success, so I started organising Cornish holidays instead which suited us well, having Moll.

“I think you should go travelling,” said my Mum, reinforcing my itchy feet. But my two problems are:- 1) finding the right person to go with and 2) if I don’t travel with Moll, finding someone to look after her.

I have four good friends that I know I can travel with enjoyably. (I have been away with good friends and for some reason it hasn’t worked on holiday. My dear husband was one.) Three of these friends are incredibly busy this year embarking on other life changing far flung experiences. The last one I know we’d have a great time but a certain amount of persuasion is needed.

Then looking after Moll – the friend who usually has her now has a place in Portugal, where they go every spring and autumn. So I’d have to go away to fit in with them.

Mind you, as I have to pay for a new roof in the next week (they’ve just finished it), a holiday might have to take backseat for the moment, unless it’s a cheapie. But I’m definitely going. It’s just a question of when and with whom. And life has a way of making things happen unexpectedly, I find. In the meantime I shall have great fun dreaming and planning.

In the meantime, I’m off to Tintagel on Sunday. Not quite Greece, but it will have to do for the moment.