It's changeover day, which means lots of things. It means that I was supposed to get up early enough to pack and straighten up the cottage. It means that I was supposed to have used up enough of my food to make actually getting to the next cottage feasible. It means that, joy of joys, I would end up back in the village of my dreams by day's end. Well, all of these things did, eventually, happen. Just not as efficiently as they could have.
Upon waking early, I did not immediately pack and I did not immediately straighten. Instead, I was at such an interesting point in the tome that I grabbed the laptop and dove in. Alas! I checked the clock long hours later, and - it was almost time to go! Oh no!
The things I said to myself do not bear repeating. You should have just seen the SconeLady race around there, throwing, zipping, panicking. But things were finally stuffed and crammed together (it was not pretty), the neck brace snugly protective, and food bags hanging crazily, one off of each arm. The train whistled its tune as I dashed up to car B, and stumbled on - being especially mindful about that 'gap'.
So I'm back in the village of my dreams, rubbing shoulders with hundreds of ice-cream eating tourists. You can hear the sound of roller bags bumping along the cobbles, the fresh visitors all grinning. And who can really blame them? The quality of Light here alone is enough to lift the spirits of any city-dweller. The rise and the fall of tides is enough to fascinate any child whose parents have transported them here. I guarantee to you right now that those children will grow up and bring their children back, in the years to come. For it is addictive.
Addictive, I tell you.
See you along the way!
Village of Dreams