The thousands of you who read my blog without ever commenting and yet very kindly take an interest in my personal situation must be itching to know what became of my plan to move house.
Well, it took seven months of tense negotiation but my plan finally came good. I have moved and I couldn’t be happier.
I have thrown away most of my possessions and my life has become richer and more enjoyable. All those musty old books have gone. All my furniture. Most of my clothes. The garden tools. Instead I now have a swimming pool, a gym, two jacuzzis and a fleet of boats to take me up and down the Thames.
A few nights ago I was startled by a loud explosion just outside the window. I peeped out and saw fireworks. I pulled on my shoes, ran like blazes and was treated to a spectacular display coming from the river near Greenwich. It was to celebrate the naming of the Seabourn Sojourn.
The photo by Lanying doesn’t do justice to the startling beauty of the explosions.
I saw The Seabourn Sojourn set off on its maiden voyage a few days later as I was coming back from my swim. It looked magnificent, lit up like a small city, gliding with majestic slowness.
But why the strange spelling? Well, the company has many ships and they’re all called Seabourn something. So it must be one of those strokes of marketing genius for search engine optimisation so I’ll just shut up about it and stop driving Lanying nuts.
Anyway, now I’ve had time to get settled on the Thames, I’m wondering what my next goal should be. Something big and complicated to distract me even more from the anxiety of literary endeavour. Maybe a holiday house in Krakow. It’s very beautiful there, I’ve heard.