Two things. One, I had the best of days today. Two, Brighton is heavily overrated and I do not wish to go back. The pier was too loud and the pier was too bright, the beach was too crowded and the noise of the traffic was everywhere. The fish ‘n‘ chips made my stomach ache.
Around noon the sun came out.
And we wandered along the promenade and we left behind the people and the noise and we told each other stories that we already knew but liked to hear anyway.
I remember waking up from my own snoring on the train back.
It was such a complete day.
(Qote: A.A. Milne)
London is a blur. I arrived, and it wasn‘t on Platform 9 3/4, and it wasn‘t magical. Just the crowded station of St. Pancras; anouncements, suitcases being pushed and pulled past me, a child crying, two lovers hugging, the music coming from some shop. I circled the top floor of the station and I circled the lower floor and when I was completely lost in my circle, Inga finally found me. She is very good at finding me (I should ask her how she does it, because I keep losing myself).
It‘s good to be nibbling at a Waggon Wheel at midnight in a stranger‘s kitchen when your thoughts slowly turn into dreams.
(Quote: A.A. Milne)