Wednesday 22nd August 2018
Post holiday blues has hit me hard this time. France was dreamy and Kingsley traveled so well; my energy levels were sky high and everything seemed charming.
To get back into a Saronida routine so abruptly after the culture of central-east France has shocked me that it takes many hours to get out of our apartment today. We finally leave the house in the afternoon to do Kingsley’s bidding: go to our local playground. Glad we did! He saw his 7 year old mate Markel – shirtless as Kingsley was! – both boys keen to kick the soccer ball around while his mum and I compared baby bumps.
I feel immediately better for getting out of the house. Fresh sea air is instantly gratifying and I’m actually excited to go for a swim. This is my bidding and the child indulges me. So we sea-bathe and our (pleasant) beach routine kicks in: frolic, swim (he won’t let go of his €1 coin…all the way from Lyon), warm selves in sun, poo in the bushes (child; not me), outdoor shower, explore rockpools, throw pebbles in the sea.
A good day indeed. Memories of France sustaining the both of us…