goldfish shoals nibbling at my toes
Sep. 18th, 2015 02:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolI looked out over the crystal blue sea, smelt the warm breeze coming in, and took off my sunglasses as the sun sank over the horizon. There was a faint smell of the garlic butter we'd just eaten, and the wine was cool. The warmth of the day felt like it had sunk into my bones.
"I am so relaxed," I said happily. "I don't want to go home."
Richie stared at me. "You have over 10 huge insect bites, you may or may not have cystitis AGAIN, we're here because the food at the hotel was passed into inedible and if that animation team comes around again tomorrow you said you'd push them into the pool."
"Yeah, exactly. How stressed have I been over the last few months?"
So, holiday! On Wednesday I got a phonecall from the travel agent cheerily informing me that the hotel we were going to had decided that it hated our travel agent and our booking didn't exist. PANIC AND FEAR. So we didn't really know where we were going, or what was happening. But we had the new details, so we cheerfully went on our way to our new hotel after a reasonably smooth flight and transfer (despite accidentally ending up on a bus full of Russian tourists, we got off in time).
It was... we think, a slight improvement. We were in a completely different resort than the one we were meant to be in originally, on a different side of the island. No view of Albania, and a much bigger hotel, the type with an Animation team and evening entertainments and a super-massive-complex, which we didn't really fancy. But a golden beach, and a much quieter resort as a whole, with a strip winding up the beach and not much else. Plus, holidaying in September is definitely the way forward. The weather was wonderfully warm but not too oppressive except for in the middle of the day, and it wasn't too busy with kids or anything. Always a good thing!
Okay, the list of downsides is listed above. The insects were bite-y as hell, and my legs look like I have a terrible wasting disease now. I am indeed slightly burnt, as does tend to happen. The animation team were dire and the evening entertainments were just awful. Plus, the food as plentiful but decidedly meh. The booze was free-flowing, obviously, but due to the wasps around the bar at the daytime I had to act as waitress. Alas.
But. but but but. At night we would walk down the beach and stare at the stars and the nebula clouds. I could see the fish swimming in the sea when I went for a swim. The warm settled into my bones and stayed there, with a quiet sea breeze. Drinks in the evening, watching tiny geckos scuttle across the ceiling. Going out for the odd meal in the evening in the very quiet tavernas, chatting to waiters and drinking litres of wine. We trekked up a hill one morning to a traditional village where we had smile-and-wave session with at least one elderly widow and huffed and puffed through silent olive groves.
ALSO. Sat in the shade with a Kindle, and the sudden realisation that the hotel was wifi which means I can buy more books without getting off the sunlounger, and if that isn't the miracle of the future then I don't know what is. I read voraciously the whole Wayward Pines trilogy (schlocky but fun), The Martian (very American but utterly gripping!), finished the Millenium trilogy (depressing) and then ended up ploughing my way through The Dark Tower books. I had read the first one and not really enjoyed it, despite generally quite liking Stephen King's more epic works. The Stand is one of my favourites. Anyway, a colleague at work who is generally pretty sound on recommendations said I should give it a go so on I ploughed, taking two with me. I then promptly bought the rest throughout the week. The quality is gently collasping as it goes on (The Wolves of Calla was absolutely amazing, though) but I just can't stop. I have about a fifth of it to go. I sat on the plane and quietly cried on the way home as he ruthlessly killed off Eddie, Jake an OH GOD OY NO I COULDN'T TAKE THAT ONE. And I felt the death of Flagg was too easy, as well, although that's my respect for The Stand talking. I have also queued up Salem's Lot and Insomnia; I already got the references to The Stand, obviously, and Desperation hit me about half way through. I am slightly convinced the whole thing is just a ploy from King to make us read everything else, but well, I say again, crying my eyes out at the deaths means I am just too bloody invested now. I will probably always mentally think of Corfu with thank-ee sai.
So in conclusion. It wasn't perfect (I am still drinking a lot of water in an attempt to flush everything out which thank god is working, the insects really were vicious but at least I have hydrocortozine now, the food really wasn't amazing) but the warmth, the knowledge that the most stressful part of my day was weather to have another dip in the pool or to read another chapter. I needed that. I'm back to work on Monday, but I have another three days to myself before that. Which might let my little patches of sunburn heal, too.
"I am so relaxed," I said happily. "I don't want to go home."
Richie stared at me. "You have over 10 huge insect bites, you may or may not have cystitis AGAIN, we're here because the food at the hotel was passed into inedible and if that animation team comes around again tomorrow you said you'd push them into the pool."
"Yeah, exactly. How stressed have I been over the last few months?"
So, holiday! On Wednesday I got a phonecall from the travel agent cheerily informing me that the hotel we were going to had decided that it hated our travel agent and our booking didn't exist. PANIC AND FEAR. So we didn't really know where we were going, or what was happening. But we had the new details, so we cheerfully went on our way to our new hotel after a reasonably smooth flight and transfer (despite accidentally ending up on a bus full of Russian tourists, we got off in time).
It was... we think, a slight improvement. We were in a completely different resort than the one we were meant to be in originally, on a different side of the island. No view of Albania, and a much bigger hotel, the type with an Animation team and evening entertainments and a super-massive-complex, which we didn't really fancy. But a golden beach, and a much quieter resort as a whole, with a strip winding up the beach and not much else. Plus, holidaying in September is definitely the way forward. The weather was wonderfully warm but not too oppressive except for in the middle of the day, and it wasn't too busy with kids or anything. Always a good thing!
Okay, the list of downsides is listed above. The insects were bite-y as hell, and my legs look like I have a terrible wasting disease now. I am indeed slightly burnt, as does tend to happen. The animation team were dire and the evening entertainments were just awful. Plus, the food as plentiful but decidedly meh. The booze was free-flowing, obviously, but due to the wasps around the bar at the daytime I had to act as waitress. Alas.
But. but but but. At night we would walk down the beach and stare at the stars and the nebula clouds. I could see the fish swimming in the sea when I went for a swim. The warm settled into my bones and stayed there, with a quiet sea breeze. Drinks in the evening, watching tiny geckos scuttle across the ceiling. Going out for the odd meal in the evening in the very quiet tavernas, chatting to waiters and drinking litres of wine. We trekked up a hill one morning to a traditional village where we had smile-and-wave session with at least one elderly widow and huffed and puffed through silent olive groves.
ALSO. Sat in the shade with a Kindle, and the sudden realisation that the hotel was wifi which means I can buy more books without getting off the sunlounger, and if that isn't the miracle of the future then I don't know what is. I read voraciously the whole Wayward Pines trilogy (schlocky but fun), The Martian (very American but utterly gripping!), finished the Millenium trilogy (depressing) and then ended up ploughing my way through The Dark Tower books. I had read the first one and not really enjoyed it, despite generally quite liking Stephen King's more epic works. The Stand is one of my favourites. Anyway, a colleague at work who is generally pretty sound on recommendations said I should give it a go so on I ploughed, taking two with me. I then promptly bought the rest throughout the week. The quality is gently collasping as it goes on (The Wolves of Calla was absolutely amazing, though) but I just can't stop. I have about a fifth of it to go. I sat on the plane and quietly cried on the way home as he ruthlessly killed off Eddie, Jake an OH GOD OY NO I COULDN'T TAKE THAT ONE. And I felt the death of Flagg was too easy, as well, although that's my respect for The Stand talking. I have also queued up Salem's Lot and Insomnia; I already got the references to The Stand, obviously, and Desperation hit me about half way through. I am slightly convinced the whole thing is just a ploy from King to make us read everything else, but well, I say again, crying my eyes out at the deaths means I am just too bloody invested now. I will probably always mentally think of Corfu with thank-ee sai.
So in conclusion. It wasn't perfect (I am still drinking a lot of water in an attempt to flush everything out which thank god is working, the insects really were vicious but at least I have hydrocortozine now, the food really wasn't amazing) but the warmth, the knowledge that the most stressful part of my day was weather to have another dip in the pool or to read another chapter. I needed that. I'm back to work on Monday, but I have another three days to myself before that. Which might let my little patches of sunburn heal, too.
