I was up before dawn and took a short walk over to the eastern side of the camp to watch the sun rise over the hills. It’s so peaceful here on a morning. All I could hear was birds singing, a faraway dog barking and the wind through the trees. No traffic. It’s amazing when you think about it how much of modern life is soundtracked by the rumble of engines.
Right on the edge of the site there’s a house standing in ruins. I’d like to, before I leave, take some photos inside. I only snapped the outside that morning. I love old stuff like that. There’s a number of derelict buildings between here and the beach. Maybe I’ll get the chance to photograph them one day.
After my morning adventures and breakfast I took delivery of an apparently ancient Toyota Carolla with 220k / km on the clock. Last time I was here I hired a car and never felt entirely comfortable driving on the right (wrong!) side of the road. But this was something else. An automatic!
I’ve never driven an auto before, not even in England where we drive on the left (right!) side. But my trepidation was misjudged and short-lived. Foot down. Go. It’s like a go cart. Brilliant!
I took the parents down to the local Aldi for essential supplies of beer then back and more sunworshipping by the pool. It’s good to sit and chat. It important. We got talking about Mike. It’s a sad subject for all involved. I can tell my mum is thoroughly miserable about the entire situation. I cannot rectify his decision to marry a wicked woman, nor can I force his hand in seeing his child, but I can at least attempt to repair my part in the current awful state of affairs.
I saw Mike at a funeral last month. We didn’t speak. Perhaps wasn’t the occasion. I’ve asked Ellis, who is going to see Mike when we get back, to hand-deliver a letter for me. He’s agreed.