Filed under: nomadisms
After a protracted two months of conference calls and contracts, it turns out a move is happening after all. To a big city, again, at least for awhile. The first six weeks, very noncommittally, will be spent in a short term furnished rental. Opportunity knocks and all that.
(A lot like the last time a move to a big city happened, except there awhile turned out to be five and a half years.)
This month marks one and a half years of not owning any furniture, not having a steady mailing address, not being very settled. A period of strange beds and kitchens, variable showers and always re-packing. This isn’t ending immediately but both of us have been feeling the pull back towards staying in place, the scales tilting in favor of stability again.
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When the housesitting was over we drove down the coast, stopping in small towns.
We hiked a trail on a nature reserve, spotting (and smelling) huge seal colonies down the cliffside. Found a cluster of small town museums, the good and weird and strange. Debated the merits of ten year old concerts on DVD with an enthusiastic pizza maker. Accidentally went to a nightclub and watched the bartender flare with enthusiasm, on purpose went to several fifth-wave coffee shops to find the sour dark coffee we’d been missing. Talked to the woman cooking my late night fried halloumi about the merits of drinking on the job (she wasn’t). Had long brunches in a friendly downtown hotel and by the warm morning fires of a wine estate. Considered the products of late harvest grapes and pot stills. Watched the Lion King in 3D and took bets on whether the crowd would contain itself from joining in with ‘nants ingonyama bagithi babaaaaaa’, because how can you not?
It was a good trip.
Underthecurrent 