Ok, so that was Christmas 2017, over in a flash as usual but a very pleasant distraction from the business of trying to bring our lifestyle plan to fruition. There has been a development on that score, but more of that later.
Our stay at Belvedere cottage was quite delightful in spite of its quirks. Once the walls had warmed up and Gareth’s imagined ghost had accepted us, we were cosy and snug. Christmas Eve at the King Arthur was a mulled wine and festive nuts way to see us in to the Big Day which was a lovely family day of relaxing and playing with the children, topped off with Owen’s beautifully cooked goose dinner (and lots of wine of course).
Boxing Day took us off for the obligatory post-Christmas walk to Oxwich. Being a little bit maverick, instead of walking the beach we took the dogs through the grassy dunes that are the nature reserve, thinking that we were away from the madding (“maddening” my Dad used to call it) crowd. Reaching the pill we then ventured onto the beach at its further end from the car park for our walk back. The shiny pewter tide was in and lapped gently at the wellied feet of the Tribes of Israel making their way towards us from the other end. New bobble hats bounced in time with babies on their carrier-wearing dads, the leaping, barking, pooing dogs and the over-sugared, in-need-of-a-post-Christmas-excitement-airing children.
We pondered the fact that however differently we might think we are doing things; however different we feel we are from “others” there are a heck of a lot of others doing almost exactly the same things as us. In respect of our plan to live differently, a couple of hours on the iPad last night proved to me that there is a very large community of 60-somethings dreaming the same dreams as me and living the same lives that we are contemplating having. So much for original thought!
We imagine that our bright ideas are our own, but in fact they have been infiltrated! Heaven forbid it's a case of being controlled by some other ‘Other’! I guess it would be quite convenient to have all our older folk migrating to Southern Europe for the winter instead of clogging up the NHS with their arthritic conditions, blood pressure and heart attacks. Just plant the idea in enough older minds, and Bob’s your uncle, the winter public service statistics look more manageable!
It could, however, be a devious plan by the anti-immigration lobby to thwart the northward migrations from the Far East and Africa with a wall of motor homes along the European coast of the Med! Although a flaw in that plan is to assume that those motorhomers are all Brexiteers, keen to keep Britain for the British, but to keep the Mediterranean resorts British too. Liberal travellers, on the other hand, might actually adopt a few itinerant foreigners or at least be so good as to share with them a few glasses of cheap French wine and a can of beans or two.
So, anyway, what next? What original thought can I come up with that is nevertheless rational? Consensus is appealing - there's security in knowing that an idea is tried and tested. Lying awake last night back at the Mumbles apartment and thinking through a decision we are about to make, the ‘what ifs’ multiplied. As I said, more about that later, so watch this space, and a Happy New Year, too, readers!
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