Chilled out and relaxed. Stretched and challenged. Books read. Days sitting in the sun. Tanned and burnt bodies. Sand between the toes. And one little dog with separation anxiety.
The excitement and thrill of going away on holiday is beginning to fade as thoughts of returning home begin to surface.
I’m luckier than most. I take my home on holiday with me because I live in my motorhome. But for two weeks I’ve been able to travel and explore with new friends Sharon and Adrienne. Two years ago we didn’t know each other.
What we have in common is a love of travel, and travel in motorhomes in particular. We each have our own motorhome and fix our own meals (or go out). We plan our tomorrow over a few wines.
We’ve had lots of laughs and a few honest tears. And in two days time we will go our separate ways again. But we’ll meet up again at the end of January. It turns out we’re all going to the same festival.
It’s so cool when begin a new friendship and find out what you have in common.
I took a break for a couple of days from writing, but the new year has begun with a new book.
I rolled over in that half sleep, half wake state, to hold my I hubby’s hand as we used to do in the night when we lay and listened to the surf.
He’d passed away in July 2020. And I realised a small book needed to be written.
The end of State Highway 67 is at the Kohaihai DOC Camp. The start/end of the Heaphy Track. Home of a pretty lagoon and beach with rolling sea.
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