Time and Tide

Simple pleasures come from simple places, like home cooked food (even when its not cooked at home), or today's finding-my-sunglasses-under-a-loaf-of-bread episode. I've been sampling everything I can, and just having to take my best guess and what and when to do so. In times like this, you just have to trust your senses...
...Alcohol numbs the senses, especially when its firewater. Firewater puts scotch to shame for its raw strength, but lacks the delicate malty depth. Its strong, and can't be humanly drunk without a mixer - which is just as well because being 95% proof it pretty much just tastes of whatever you mix it with.
I might water my next one down with some fine Kentucky bourbon.

In all likelihood, this may be my last 'live' blog. From here on in, I'll be noting them the good old fashioned way - on an A6 notebook with a sharp No.2 Pencil - until I regain internet access. It is tempting not to go, but the road beckons and I can put off my departure no longer. Its a shame to head to the mountains and miss out on the coast, but the tide will have to wait this time.

It dawns on me now that this part of my journey is about to come to a close, and I'll have to say a tearful goodbye to my gracious hosts Katherine and Paul Bennett. All of this adventure has been about saying hello to things, and the thought now of saying goodbye is not a pleasant one, nor a thought I have been prepared for.

Like all of us, their trials and tribulations have given them strength and make me proud to bare the family name. Their generous hospitality makes me strangely envious of their good nature and makes me briefly wonder if I would have been so accommodating for them; but the wonder is brief indeed. Without hesitation, I would put in every effort to welcome them into my country, life and even home. I only hope its not too long before I get the chance.