With neither joy or sorrow, the crumbling Casa was left behind ... a strange energy, maybe influenced by the overhead wires and their field and strong WiFi at the front of the house ... sleeping quarters less so, long mornings walking, not at all (except those ubiquitous mobile phone fields, of course) ... a farewell to Poppy, who turned her back ... she will be happier with Russ, who brushes and strokes her ... I never took to her, though fed and watered her, cleaned her litter tray. .. warmer goodbyes from Russ and Susie, then on the bus to Estepona, a connection to Fuengirola and the nature of the coast changed ... more built up, more Anglified ... the train to Malaga and city energy rather draining ... escape to the airport to settle in for the evening and night ...
Good to feel the weight of the rucksack on my back again ... and having left laptop, books, clothes at the Casa to have a comfortable load, already thinking about further sifting ... with no plans for a return to San Enrique, surplus stuff is soon forgotten and the lightness of having all my stuff on my back is liberating ... and funds to supplement as required, of course ... a sleeping bag probably worth buying ... recalling hostels without blankets last time ...
The airport not the most comfortable place to spend the night ...a special brew crew camped on the concourse, an interesting subset of hippiedom, addicted to alcohol, tobacco and who knows what else, heading for Tarifa, the chap told me as he asked for 6 euros for his bus fare and rather hurt when I laughed, genuinely amused at the old bus fare story... raising questions also for the intentional community building and what to do with freeloaders ... an early flight, switching to French ... prematurely as it turned out ... the passenger sitting next to me was Spanish ... an hour or so in relative comfort in which to sleep ... a train from Bordeaux to Limoges with more time and comfort for sleep ... and Colin there to greet me and drive the hour to Ciblat, the quiet hamlet where he passes summers now his days in public service around Durham are over ... musical culture in nearby Chamberet in the evening ... literary culture in a damp Chamberet this morning ... a chance to speak some French with helpless authors, trapped behind tables loaded with their creations ... then some advanced philosophical investigation with Colin on the nature of power in general ... Durham County Council in particular ...
The Brit expat life in France is examined a little ... compared to that along the Costa ... a subject for further exploration ... meanwhile, here's Ciblat on a drizzly day ...
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