I awoke in the English countryside this morning folded up like a piece of origami. With my mother away and most of the rooms in mustn’t be touched lock down (the house is being sold so tidiness is all), I had chosen the only single bed in the house, in my father’s old dressing room.
What I hadn’t factored into the equation was that Billy the not that small at all whippet’s delight in seeing me would cause him to snuggle down on the bottom half of the tiny bed and refuse to budge until I woke this morning.
I’m still feeling like a piece of origami, even after a brisk 7am crab apple kicking walk across the dew laden mist-hovering lawns to feed the sheep, because I had to drive a Transit van to Stansted on a traffic jam clogged M1 & M25. (I had driven it up from London the night before laden with books, and it was easier & cheaper to do a one way drop at the airport, than flog all the way back to London & out again on the ruinous Stansted Express). There’s nothing like pent up traffic rage to cause hunched shoulders.
I then stood for what seemed like hours in order to get on to my delightful Ryanair flight, whilst hauling enough back-breaking snacks & water to ensure I wasn’t tempted to order any of Ryanair’s wallet-rinsing refreshments.
But the origami back doesn’t matter because my ultimate destination was the Viva Mayr Clinic in Maria Worth, Austria and, according to my schedule, I have a 55minute massage booked in at 0815hrs tomorrow morning, before my spelt bread breakfast and my preliminary medical appointment with one of the resident doctors.
Nothing like starting as you mean to go on…
Above: the view at 6pm from my suite over Lake Worth.