Fly or Fall? I face the wind, on the breakwater, face the sea and imagine I am a seagull, riding the strong current.
We stopped first at the farmers market. More on all this later, as now I might be fevered and sick, but I don’t regret how I exhausted myself. Live. I’ll let the photos do the talking. No, not local seafood but soaps, hand carved by a local soap maker, who starts the night of the market for the next market. Then some fresh peppers. The sun shining. I found myself a small Japan town, only two stalls wide, where customers wearing kimono’s speak Japanese as they buy food for Udon, with Daikon’s and other vegetables.
From there we went to the one place I used to jog all the time, every day for years: The breakwater. When I was in Wales, all I wanted to do was jog it, I yearned it, I dream of jogging it. Longer than a km, it has a path to get on then a pedestrian u-turn to squeeze past in order to stop bikes, and roller blades. We had to dismantle the wheelchair completely. I hurt my arm, Cheryl hurt her back. We paid. But we rolled.
The wind was high and smashing the water against the century and more old stones, sending up jets of water and covering the whole walkway with spray at times. It was the breakwater. I was home.
Wheeling back we saw a large seal diving in and out around in the protected side, along with sailboats and pilot boats. So much more to tell…
Back home for hot chocolate and doing postcards. There is beauty everywhere, all over the world. It was a good couple hours. Fly or Fall.
7 hours ago