Being on holiday used to mean going somewhere hot, with sea or a pool, sunshine, food and wine, relaxation with a hint of glamour, the kind of holiday you read about in Jilly Cooper novels…
Now what I crave is a change of pace. It doesn’t really matter where we go as long as we can take our time over things, as long as we get a real break from the pressures of working life and the rigid routine that goes with it.
So, we spent the last ten days in East Anglia, two weekends of standard camping with some glamping in between. Ten days in the glorious English countryside with its swaying fields and shimmering trees. Ten days of going with the flow, of letting time run away with itself. Ten days of being together.
It was exactly what we needed.
There were some low moments, they were pretty well exclusively toilet related so I’ll spare you the details but on the whole I will look back on this week for a long time to come with the fondest and happiest of memories.
I managed to capture some of the experiences in my sketchbook. I wanted to get them on paper but I didn’t want to spend too long on them so they’re all in pencil – which means the quality of the drawings and the scans is a little iffy.
It doesn't matter to me. I can remember exactly where I was and how I felt when I made each pencil stroke, the experiences and the drawings are forever woven together which is really magical somehow.