volcanic's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- international volcanic People, I have returned! In the past week, I've seen my entire collection of belongings packed so tightly into a long-wheelbase transit van that there was quite literally no room to even slide an envelope in. I have unpacked everything I own (bar a few boxes of books and my beloved Victorian pitch pine schoolmaster's desk- all in storage) into a two-bedroomed mobile home. I have moved. So here we are. At the seaside. Living in another country, where the people largely speak another language- although not all of them, and not all the time. But enough that when I bought some postcards from the radical Welsh bookshop yesterday, I felt obliged to murmur "diolch" instead of thankyou. I need to learn some more Welsh. Fatboy will be having lessons at school (Frighteningly, when I applied to the Education Authority for details of schools, they told me that there was only one he could go to, because all the others taught in Welsh. However, due to the proximity of the University, 20% of his new classmates are from overseas. So we're in a multicultural paradise, on the middle of the Welsh coast.) So yes- cultural differences abound. My new home is nestled at the edge of woods, and I can see the sea. It's only a little bit of sea, between some trees, but nevertheless, I can see the sea from my bedroom window, which is incredible. Most of the holiday-makers have gone home now, and the beach is largely deserted. The sea seems to be gathering up its strength again, as if it's put on a benign facade for the summer, and now it's flexing itself ready to become wild and passionate again. The sea is magnificent here in the winter. See, I wrote about it here. That was the day I first thought to myself that I could come and live here, if I wanted to. I never imagined, that day, that it would ever happen, especially when I was in such torment at the time. And now look at me: I have a new life, a new home, a new man. Everything I wanted. I feel very, very blessed to be here. I'm missing George though. (I've changed his name from "Bob" to "George". George is better than Bob. Bear with me and my fickle ways- he'll probably be Vladimir tomorrow). George and I are sharing lots of intimate IM moments- but I don't know if that eases the frustration, or deepens it. (Check out my profile if you want to join in the fun. I have Trillian,and am thus available on oodles of IM clients, and need to keep myself out of mischief). Still, George is coming up in two weeks, and I can't wait... he's incredible. We went out for a wonderful meal last week. He chose a lovely Italian place, in the converted vestry of a beautiful former church. It was full of gingham and baskets, with Andrea Bocelli crooning through the air. We talked and talked, got very drunk on a really expensive bottle of Barolo, and enjoyed ourselves immensely. And the food was stunning, too- especially the most bitter lemon sorbet I've ever tasted, which had massive chunks of candied peel in it. Delicious. So yes. I'm here, I'm back. I have lots of time on my hands until my semester starts on the 20th, so expect regular updates as I attempt to make sense of this mad adventure while the seagulls shag themselves stupid on my roof. It's good to be back... 10:42 a.m. - 05.09.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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