the night was gloomy yesterday, moon acquiescing to the smattering of grey overbearing clouds. we didn’t go anywhere and i wished we had. i didn’t feel like reading, the longing for the impalpable weight of your breath on my skin so overbearing. the long stretch of time loosened memories, it made me heavy with anticipation of our holiday next week – hiking up mount snowdon, just the two of us.
going to university (feels so long ago now!) made me realise how little of britain i have really seen. there were people there, from china, singapore, malaysia, who flittered their summers away on lancashire plains, up and down landmarks, around scotland and wales and i felt like i hadn’t seen britain at all. psychologically, i think, we always long to see another culture, another way of life because we think it will shock us, inspire us, change us. what we fail to realise is that our own culture is just as beautiful and just as unique. so i’m digging up my old walking trousers (if they still fit) and going up spending three nights where, granted, people still speak english, but where the way of life is not what we’re accustomed to in London – it’s quieter, peacefuller, more at one with nature.
i love the hustle and bustle of life here, the dip and pull of waves of people rushing places, but sometimes it’s nice to be in the multitude of green with the feeling of life at a standstill, catching a breath. our last trip to wales (july the eighth twenty twelve?) reaffirmed my love of london – llandudno was smaller than expected and everything shut at five, giving its evenings an eerie, cold feel. but the beauty of the surrounding was irrefutable – i longed to take the blue skies and green hills with me upon return.
so i’m excited, definitely excited. i think i’m a traveler at heart.