Or it's early.
It's in between.
I can't sleep.
Perhaps this is because I spent all day yesterday napping. Walking. Swimming. Chatting. Drinking wine. Eating chocolate. Watching sunsets.
Perhaps it's because I'm so eaten up by mosquitoes that I finally can't ignore all my bites. The pussy pink welts have overwhelmed my ability to ignore discomfort.
Lastovo.
Lastovo is a quiet island. A natural island. An authentic, Croatian island populated by grand total of 792 people.
I think there are more cats than people on this island.
It is full of churches and stone paths and mint and rosemary.
A "scenic old person" (as Tessa would say) seems to sit on each porch, sweep the porch, lean against a railing, drink coffee or harangue someone in Croatian.
The owner of the apartment (also rather scenic -- owner and apartment) had asked to practice yoga with me at 8:00 yesterday morning.
Which I considered amusing and alarming, as his English is so poor that communicating proper alignment becomes a hefty challenge.
But I needn't have worried.
It's Dalmatia.
People don't believe in anything at 8:00. Especially physical activity.
So I sat on my mat, soaked in some sun and opened up my shoulders.
Martin and I went walking yesterday morning.
He talked about his work in an opera in Munich and his comedic performance last Friday. Summer plans. New jobs. New directions. New worldviews.
I talked about walking through Montenegro, taking the train through Albania and hitching through Greece.
My life feels so simple. And I love it.
He talked about my blog and gave me heaps upon heaps of encouragement to one day write a GG book.
I told him that I'm a bit too busy being present and can't be bothered with book business. I hoped he didn't interpret this as being pretentious/lazy/disinterested.
I'm just unwilling to give up too many more moments to rehash my past -- but it was simply fantastic to feel like someone would read my fantastical book. Should I ever go about writing it.
"The blog is enough for me. It's already too much, at times. I'm going to hate carrying that laptop through Montenegro."
"I imagine that one day it will just be you running naked through the forest with only your boots and your laptop. That can be the cover of your book."
I threw my head back and laughed.
"It's a good image."
Martin and I went walking yesterday morning.
We walked up stairs.
So many stairs. How will I walk 182 km across the coast of Montenegro with my elephant if a morning of stairs makes me winded? That adventure will give me amazing stories and calves of steel.
Steep, rock stairs lined with fluffy fennel and pungent rosemary and vibrant pomegranate trees and flat green leaves that looked like kale, but not.
I explained pomegranate to Martin and he explained that the kale but not was actually tobacco.
Why have I never seen tobacco growing before?
We sat on a bench for enjoying the view (felt very Welsh) and enjoyed the view.
We heard someone playing the piano in one of Lastovo's many churches, so cautiously entered to listen to the pianist.
We walked down, down, down so many stairs into a valley village next to Lastovo town.
Every other Croatian road is a dead end. Swear to god. Madonna.
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| These smiley faces are painted onto rocks all over the island. |
We assembled a picnic and ate by the sea.
Well.
I ate.
I think Martin was waiting until dinner so he could eat boiled potatoes from yesterday.
Martin is very German.
He swam and said it wasn't cold.
I swam (after demolishing majority of picnic) and begged to differ.
"IT'S FREEZING."
He laughed at me for wearing my shoes in the water.
I told him I wore the shoes because they were rank and I needed to clean them.
"Is that also why you wore your pants?"
"No, I wore my pants because I don't have a bathing suit bottom."
I make a funny looking swimmer. Not only because I can't swim.
The afternoon was napping after drinking house white wine.
The evening was a sunset whilst drinking house red wine.
I wanted to ask Tessa if it was really happening, but remembered that my intrepid friend was probably setting up Judy in an abandoned house on Vis.
Tessa?
It was nice to suppose that she was watching the sunset, too. With her hippo and Judy and Larry and Betty for company.
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