Start spreading the news: after two years of pandemic restrictions, for the past six months it has been possible to travel once again. I have been taking advantage and getting onto planes and trains to enjoy the capital pleasures of Europe. Top of the list was Lisbon, which I visited over Christmas, followed by Paris in February, Athens in May, and then Berlin and Edinburgh in June. I will be in Belfast briefly this month, before a trip to Vienna in August, on my way to a friend’s wedding in Transylvania. Having grown-up in a monochrome commuter town, I count myself lucky to have escaped suburbia for the multi-coloured metropolis. Now, I live in the centre of London and when I go on holiday, I want to wake up in a city.
That’s not to say that the countryside does not have its pleasures. I enjoy spending time on the west coast of Ireland, which I visit regularly. I like the silence of the moors, save for the sound of water cascading down mountain streams, and the challenge of climbing the steep local summits, to enjoy views of the Atlantic and the sea breeze in my face. It’s easy to find that I’m king of the hill after walking for hours without another person in sight. And later, in the evenings, to sit and read with only the sound of the wind for company. There is comfort to be found in the solitude of the wild places of the earth, and a sense of rejuvenation right through the very heart of it.
Continue reading “Small town blues”