Flew in to the Med yesterday to stay with a good friend. Apprehensive about the four hour flight and putting my new self through all the travelling. But I come out of the airport, sniff the warm night air and it’s as if I’ve come home. Sea, warmth, oleander everywhere, a full moon to guide us.
This morning I wake up hours earlier than usual, my mental bodyclock already attuned to the much hotter climate. You live at both ends of the day and the hot afternoons are for sleep. Back home I’d be struggling to get going, but here it’s as if my body can breathe in the light and warmth. Sitting in a garden full of oleander in the shade, with various neighbourhood cats inspecting me.
Travelling with assistance for the first time and it worked perfectly. I’m a good twenty five years younger than the other half dozen on my flight. A couple of anxious ladies ask me for directions about what to do next, one holds my hand for reassurance. Crew at Gatwick very kind and helpful, I realise I’m the only one singing along to Rag and Bone Man on the airport bus.
We get to Cyprus and I seem to have my own posse of anxious elderly, wondering where their relatives are. ‘I’ll stick with you, you’re so confident, you look like you know where you are going. ‘ Ha!
Can’t really believe I’m in summer clothes, they’re so light. But the oleander, fierce blue sky and swifts flying back and forth don’t lie. My friend has gone out for a run, she warned me about the local monastery blasting out a couple of bars of Vivaldi at 9 am, but it was still a surprise.