Day 405: Eat Meat

In theory, today could have been a pain, and yesterday was a hard act to follow, but in fact, it was a delight.

Yes to a clement morning swim, busy with women, most of them all smiles. The water was lovely. I experimented a second time with deciding I’m fully up to scratch and it worked. I swam further today than I have this year. It was 5°, so within the bounds of ‘not toasty’, but it felt wonderful.

Yes to texts with Mirjam and promises of Skypes. This weekend, I’ve had contact with Nicolò in Montreal, Cat in London and Mirjam and Caroline in Switzerland. Wonderful people I met for the first time in December… and what a month it was! Very grateful for them, as I am for all the other wonderful people I have the pleasure of knowing all over the world – this last few days includes Jochen in New Zealand, J in Brighton, Lilley in York, Laura in Spain and lots of lovely London people. I think I got lucky.

By Paddy Otley: http://toytoad.wordpress.com/

I spent most of the rest of the day tidying the room I was about to leave, sorting things out and getting them out of sight, cleaning and tidying. I hope I haven’t forgotten anything this time. Someone else will be using the room tonight, almost certainly. I listened to lovely music (thanks, Fox) and I got it all done, or most of it.

Just before leaving, I discovered that Paddy done me a picture! Here it is. I love it! I’m allowed to put it on my website and everything. Thank you, Paddy. You are a freakishly gifted and giftedly freakish. I am everso grateful very much a lot indeed.

Late, late, late to meet lovely Cat. I almost-whizzed down to Euston on my bike, then got the tube. We both came armed with yoga mats to have a stretch together at the RFH, but in the end it felt better to do some voice stuff and to have a lovely chat. That was very nice indeed, and a little less obvious (the mats were a giveaway, and as there was a concert on, the space we could use was a little bit limited). Gratitude flowing for time with such a fine person, who came once again armed with raw truffle delights – a sack of them this time, and with her flowy, clear self and lots of honesty. I do like that girl. She rocks.

I had a train to catch at 5.50. It was 5. I made a silly decision, that instead of taking the train up to Euston and walking to Kings Cross, I’d walk to London Bridge and get the ‘right’ branch of the Northern Line. Because ‘it would be quicker’. Yeah, right! Even at a yomp (and especially on a Sunday full of bodies), it takes about half an hour to get to London Bridge. I was planning to be at Kings Cross at 5.30, so I could get tickets and be leisurely about my travel. It took AGES, but on the plus side, it did bring back very pleasing backwards-walking memories which made me smile. 

I sat calmly on the tube from London Bridge as it became clear there was no way I’d make it. It was 45 at Angel and there’s a whole raft of corridor to get through to get to the ticket machines, let alone the train. Still, I did get to the ticket machines. They were all empty of people and the tickets came fast. When I got back to the boards, I saw my train still posted… it hadn’t left! I had whispered under my breath ‘please let it be delayed’ and it was. I’d love to take credit, but it had been late coming in from wherever it came from. Great for me, though. What luck!

Good luck pigs

My seat partner from London to Peterborough made me laugh. He was a neat, sharp gentleman, probably in his late fifties (though that showed mostly through his hands – he was very young of face). His opening line was ‘I’ve just had the best journey ever from Vienna!’. Great start! We swapped successful travel tales, his more comprehensive – Vienna, on time into Heathrow, slickly through customs and onto a train, boof boof boof from Paddington to Kings Cross and walked onto this train without a second’s wait. He was delighted. He was supposed to stay in London but he was aching to go home to his wife after his crazy weekend.

He talked almost constantly and within minutes had showed me the weirdy-chic hotel he’d been staying in as well as pictures of the flat his company pays for in Mayfair. He’d told me what it’s like to be a high profile divorce lawyer. He’d asked me all sorts of things too. He made me laugh many times and he was relentlessly happy and positive about things, even scary things (like defending the soon-to-be-ex-wife of a close friend of Vladimir Putin – he didn’t say the words ‘Russian Mafia’, but they were under the surface of his skin).

And the best bit? He wrapped up and left at Peterborough, landing me with a lovely compliment as a parting shot, placing it with no other intention but to please, and leaving me to do my thing. He was great, and that was the perfect dose of such intense and happy chattery.

I’m fasting today (inspired, once again, by Nicolò, who reminded me yesterday, by fasting himself, that I was also planning to fast today). I don’t think I’d have made it without him, especially not with Cat’s outrageously good raw truffles calling to me. I also had assistance from another source:

On the train, I did a thing I had to do and then I moved on to karma yoga… I worked on a German article until I felt tired and started to think about crisps and hot chocolate, working at the boundaries of fasting like breaking in a leather boot with the back of a spoon, trying to get them supple enough to let me consume something. I also had the test of a £21 budget for an evening meal at the hotel once I arrived.

Before I stopped working, I did a bit of formatting (the documents arrive with funny gaps). Reading so much further down, I found that the article turned onto the topic of… fasting! It raved about the benefits (physical, mental, spiritual). It even told stories about bad things that happened to someone breaking their fast. It recommended fasting every 14 days (exactly what we’ve been doing). By the time I got to Leeds, there was no way anything was going to break my fast, and I have plans for gentleness at tomorrow’s breakfast, rather than gorging.

'Feeling Lucky' coconut creature

And here I am. Just as I desired, my hotel has a bathtub, which I am about to go and partake of. It doesn’t have a double bed, it has a MASSIVE bed with five pillows on it, side by side. I could sleep sideways. There’s no need for such luxury bed width. Everything else about the hotel room is fairly standard. Perhaps I’ve been put in the threesome suite by mistake. Whatever the reason, the bed is a delight. The room is warm. I have my yoga mat. I have no internet (thank goodness – I wanted to talk to lovely Mirjam, but I find myself with tiredness and thoguhts).

I’m feeling lucky. I know it doesn’t mean anything in real terms, but nevertheless, I’m grateful.