The bridges have been burnt, there's only one way to go now and that's onwards. It feels strange, we've been so long working towards this point, that now it's come, it doesn't seem real. There's a feeling of trepidation and excitement alongside, but mainly relief.
The house is finally sold, we wouldn't believe it until the keys were handed in, so many things had gone wrong before, which might explain the unreality of it all. When the house fell through the first time, we decided to stop reading all the south american guide books in an effort to prevent the disappointment of all our plans going up in smoke another time. We attempted to carry on life and live in the here and now, rather than have our lives on hold indefinitely. So when it finally happened, we were a little numb I think. It was sad to leave the home after four years, the first house I've ever bought, originally in quite a shitty state, but after some work, a cosy, modern, one bed roomed coach house conversion. I've made a very modest profit on it, which means for the first time in my life, I'm leaving to go in a new direction with a little capital behind me.
A couple of years ago, Katherine moved in her mountains of clutter, but feminised the place a little, and we had two wonderful summers sitting out in the patio area drinking and smoking far too much whenever the sun came out. We also struck up a great friendship with our neighbours whose kitchen window overlooked our patio. It could have been invasive, but instead, we got on so well that countless evenings were spent sharing wine and beer either on the patio or standing at their kitchen window. We could even lean through to open their fridge and help ourselves to some beer ( sorry T&J, I think you supplied us with more than we supplied you two ) and on some occasions champagne was on offer, often at two in the morning with work the next day. We started our sessions in the spring when it was still cold, sat out with coats on and building a small fire in a coal bucket to keep us out for as long as possible. When summer came and the nights were warmer, we designed drunken street sports, the most famous being oven glove racing. Injuries and the deterioration of the oven gloves put pay to that after a while, but it was fun while it lasted.
They actually sold and moved before us, which was an end to that time, but in a way, made it easier for us to go, because it wouldn't have been the same there after they had gone.
Despite being desperate to leave work, leaving our colleagues was sad and they gave us a great send off, even collecting some funds together for us to use on our travels and of course a medical kit. However, I won't miss the nhs (not as it is run now) I'm looking forward to exploring some new ways of living for a while and seeing where it takes us.
a travelogue in the time of the information superhighway
1994
My story starts in drizzly, dreary, grey England. I worked as a nurse in a specialist cancer hospital in Manchester. One day, I suddenly entered her world, there she was. At once beautiful, but decaying visibly. Eyes that melt you, fumbled for reasons. High on morphine, she slumped on the chair. Her legs, previously long and graceful, were now fat and full of fluid. She was loosing her hair, something that upset her most. We all witnessed her struggling with the remains of her dignity and modesty, but she carried on fighting. Her mother applied facial cream like a corner man at ringside, her father just looked lost. She was a twenty seven year old woman, right before us, dying in her prime. She seemed to hold up a mirror to the thoughts sailing across my mind, a metaphor for what we've all become and what will become of us. So much potential, so much waste. It is at moments like this that we can take the looking glass to our own fragile existence, and ask questions of it. Cancer had infiltrated her womb, the very giver of life. I became aware of a feeling that her death had released something else, a thirst for living itself. She haunted me. Four months later, I set out on an adventure to view the world that she would no longer see.
Posted by don quixote
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