Reality bites. Right now, I am impaled on its rearmost molars, getting thoroughly masticated.
London, August 2006.
Good Things:
- Fresh underwear daily - a fine concept, and one that I feel could become popular, if the masses are informed of it.
- Internet access without having to buy a coffee - I'm sure if Nelson was asked what he missed most while at sea, he wouldn't have said "broadband internet", but oddly enough it's important. Disconnection from the world is fine up to a point, but it's great to be able to contact people and feel part of the planet again.
- People - some of whom have followed me for a year by this blog. It's better to meet them in person.
Bad Things
- Stuff - fresh underwear aside, I think a 60 litre bag can carry most things you need for life. I'm confused by my own possessions.
- Timetables, schedules, decisions - I'm better adapted to a simple "four hours on deck, four hours off" regimen.
- Losing the feeling - 48 hours back in town, and its starting to feel like I've never been away. One of these days, I'm going to find myself staring at a computer screen, while yelling down a phone and drinking my fourteenth cup of bad coffee.
I think the dreadful familiarity of it all is the worst thing. I expected to feel a huge blizzard of emotions as I arrived in Waterloo, but it never came. Everything in London seems to be caught in stasis. The shops are the same, the news headlines appear to be the same, the graffitti on the walls in my neighbourhood appear unchanged. My local pub still has a tatty newspaper cutting displayed in the window proclaiming how Thai food prevents cancer - which obviously reassures the clientele knocking back pints of Fosters and puffing Superkings by the pack.
I have a year's worth of junk mail waiting for me. My beloved brother filtered out the obvious mail shots, but I still have a couple of bin-bags' worth of absolute rubbish from banks, mobile phone companies and the taxman to sort through.
TV. What's all that about? I have watched about 20 minutes in the last year, mostly snatches of news in various hotels around the world. I now seem to have about 500 more channels than when I left (I had about a thousand then) and there is EVEN LESS worth watching. Even the news has a kind of mashed-up baby food feel to it. You don't have to chew this, it won't make you choke, even though it probably should.
And I'm crystallising my thoughts on what the year has meant to me. One thing is definitely the simplification of my life. I am happier having that set routine, and only three pairs of socks to choose from.
The other aspect is how satisfied I am by physical effort. Historically, I have been a bit of a maths geek. I have put most of my effort into academic or career achievement since I was about fifteen, working first towards my doctorate and then in my job as a trader. None of of that, absolutely nothing, has given me anywhere near as much satisfaction as working on the foredeck of a yacht in a Force 8 wind. I achieved a serenity in that I have not managed in any other activity. I think the most satisfying time of my life was in the North Pacific working with Martin and Mark on the bow of Cardiff.
Just for the record, news. We arrived in Gosport on Saturday morning. We spent most of the day deep cleaning the boat, before heading off to enjoy an evening chez Nic Allen (local boy and Cardiff crewmember). Nic is a GP, but judging by the way he refills his guests' wine glasses, he is not that bothered about preventative medicine.
Sunday was a leisurely breakfast and a long trail up to London.
Monday and Tuesday have been a return to the kind of tedium that isn't fit for a weblog that aspires to originality.
But, lo, a light on the horizon!
We still have a sail left on Cardiff, back to her home port at the end of the month for their annual Festival of the Sea - we set sail on the 23rd. Hopefully that will be worth writing about. Otherwise I will have to spice up my mundane North London existence to provide you lot with some interest.
