Bye bye, Holiday

I leave for Bombay in a few hours from now.
21.25 Jet Airways LHR -BOM

It is with mixed emotions that I packed my various belongings from the flat. Thankfully Ville helped with the darned Tv and Microwave dumped into giant plastic boxes. It is insane the amount of junk I owned, collected over a period of 8 months in one country. Now everything I own fits neatly into one suitcase and 2 plastic boxes (tv/Microwave). The rest of my wardrobe is coming back to India with me.
I meant to get rid of the microwave, but the cheap neighbors backed down last minute. Whatever happened to the days when people kept their word.
And then, devoid of all paintings, photographs, postcards and my junk spread around it wasn't my space anymore. I left the street feeling absolutely nothing. It's the junk one is attached to, not the space.

I have avoided writing in the blog for a while now, laziness mixed with holiday bliss.
Once the stressful visa issue was sorted, I went down to Majjorca with my friend Caro, and two of her friends Andy and Badr. The first day was a culture shock. It was like Palma Nova had turned into Brighton. I will never forget the Prince William pub and streams of hens and bachelor party celebrants trooping out of each pub. Fish and Chips replaced tortillas, while one Sangria was nowhere in sight on the cocktail list. Even the Bartenders were English! Gone were the days, when one needed to struggle to communicate in Espagnol. Loved sunbathing in my new black bikini. Loved hiring a car and zipping through the hills of Majjorca towards Sollare. Loved the azure blue of the Mediterranean sea.

Once I was back, Ville and me hired a car and drove up to northern England and Scotland, as he hates London and well I'm always up for a holiday. We drove up the M1, me looking geeky as ever in my black framed glasses (Find it hard to read the signs in case we landed up not in Derby but Newcastle. It was a little blue Vauxhall Corsa.
The first destination was the Yorkshire Dales National Park, where we arrived after twisting through country lanes and avoiding the flood in Sheffield. Ville ended up giving an interview in a telephone box surrounded by cows and sheep in Bolton Abbey, from the only telephone box for miles together. That night we pitched a tent in Appletree-wick, apparently the loveliest campsite in all of Britain (as told by geek in pub and lovely couple in their 50's). Drank cider in an 18th century pub and froze in the damp. Ended up sleeping in the car till 10 am, before heading off to Skipton to buy an extra blanket.
In Skipton, over a casual cup on tea at the street stall, we met John and Sheila. A couple in their 70's who after some small conversation invited us to their home in Knaresborough for dinner. This was a little shocking, as rarely do people invite strangers home. They even offered us a place to stay, and while we had to politely refuse their kind offer, John fixed a bed and breakfast for us in Lauder. More later, Have to run to the bank now or i'll miss my flight.