Returning home after a journey is always a little weird. I’m struggling to let go of that wonderful feeling of being on the road, with nothing but unhurried time up my sleeve and where to eat tonight, the most pressing thing on my mind.
Mr Books and I love exploring the back ways and byways, avoiding the main roads as much as possible. We love detours and unexpected finds. We enjoy chatting to fellow travellers, local baristas, wine makers, waiters, bookshop owners and the neighbours around our Airbnb stays.
Sometimes Mr Books has to work when we travel. When the sun shines, I walk and walk and walk. When it rains, I read. He scoffed at the number of books I took on this journey. I refused to count them. They were all the half-read books by my bed. I was determined to finish some of them.
I finished five in total – The Pea-Pickers, Bring Up the Bodies, This is Happiness, Second Place, and First Person Singular. And I made a good dent on All That Swagger, Into the Loneliness, Wolf Hall Companion and Emile Zola: A Brief Introduction.
I collected three more on the way – The Oxford Literary Guide to Australia and Australian Literature (in Rutherglen) and The Penguin Anthology of Australian Women’s Writing (in Blackheath).
Mr Books finished The Glass Hotel and almost finished Damascus. He collected a new pair of shoes (in Cooma).
Tonight I feel restless and lost. I cannot settle to anything. Thursday I return to work. I wish I was still on the road.
Jennifer @Holds Upon Happiness hosts A Poem For a Thursday, you guessed it, every Thursday.