Hits 1651 | Created 2000-06-01 | Modified 2007-05-31I guess I got wrapped up in my life so much, that I forgot to write anything at all.
amden Town, England.
The romance with Caro was all encompassing, and allowed little time for anything else I guess.
We passed our days on the island as best we could, and stayed until the end of February. A seemingly endless round of breakfasts, walks, swims, lunches, dives, walks, Cross-Creek bar, Ed's house, Salva Vida, The-Bar-In-The-Bush twice a week, the Bucket of Blood (or, avoidance of), sandflies, mosquitoes, cable TV, rain, sun, excessive heat, and eventually an even smaller room, and even smaller island and an itching of feet.
We learned to dive at Gunter's (after a day touring the many, many dive shops) for $160 US with Pascal, a nice French guy, which was good for Caro. Took to diving well I guess, a little scary and suffocation-like at first, but soon just blown away by endless colourful coral and friendly fish. Caro had ear problems at first, but with some decongestant pills was fine.
Did lots of snorkelling and swimming too, and lots of island exploration, making love in rock pools, not finding pirate caves, etc.
We got married on the 25th of February...
...We went, expecting to not be able to, to see the Mayor to enquire at first. He was keen as can be and fixed up a date a week later.
There followed a week of high emotions - up and down, bliss and panic, fear and depression, but mainly excitement and unbelievable happiness.
A crazy thing, we would tell each other, and worry a little, and not worry too. Luckily, we were both crazy enough to go through with it.
I left in the morning (so as not to see the bride), and walked the island in search of a shirt to wear. Found one with Ollie in the end, and turned up at the Tranquila bar (the venue) early to help set up palm leaves and balloons. Had one beer, and worried a little that Caro wouldn't show (I know she would, but I think that every groom must entertain the idea at some point on his wedding day).
The ceremony, bare footed, was in Espaņol and my only line was 'Si, quiero', which I managed.
In half an hour we were drunk, and returned to Crosscreek for a wedding meal, armed with our presents (a hammaca and a mandala). So, joy was had.
Unreal sensation for a few days, but soon we were on the road, well, the water, again (after an all night Flor de Caņa session at Ed's house as a send off).
Money was running low, so I loaned a couple of hundred, and extended my flight by a few weeks.
A seven day journey to Cancun. Seven days of buses and quick nights in hotels of towns that we would never see properly.
I was ill in Guate city, and we arrived very late, so stayed in the Pan-American. Luxury and a bath, but I felt like I was having a heart attack, so didn't enjoy it as I should have.
Back through Chiapas and a day in San Cristobal - better than my first time - no rain. Then to finish, a 17 hour bus journey to Cuncun itself, and we arrived a few days early.
We went mad on luxury then.
Cancun resort, fancy restaurants, new clothes, hire car (old VW Beetle) for a trip to Tulum up the coast. An air con room. Aaah. I think we knew that we had to part and wanted only good things until we did.
I flew out on the 13th March, and Caro left the day after I did, well, some hours after anyway. I went to England, and Caro home to Canada. She had to see her family.
So, to cut a long story short, back here. Quick trip to see friends here, folks for a month (or less) then got my old job back at X, plus a promotion to supervisor and a salary of XK. Not too bad. Living in Camden with Tash and Dave.
Full circle, in a way.
Caro came to visit for two weeks (I had two weeks off after two weeks in the job...) We toured London, hired a car, toured England, did the family thing, did the Lancaster thing, and fell in love all over again.
She's back in Montreal now, we wait for a visa.
Life is on hold...
Camden Town. Thursday, 11:10pm.
A day much like the others of the moment - up at 7 or so, quick or no breakfast of toast and coffee and OJ. Dash to work (from leaving the house to waking up is less than 20 mins), walk to the tube, half hour on busy tube to London Bridge, 10 mins to Lewisham, walk to bus stop, 5 or 10 mins on bus and work.
Work is emails, phonecalls, software, coffee, and more phonecalls. Stress of some kind is usual. Lunch is often the 2 or 3 pints of Guinness with the bosses, or just a pasty and roll and coffee.
Home is the reverse journey, often home by 6:10pm or so. What a grind. Still, I can do it for a year I guess, if I have to.
Today though was a conference in Chessington, and a trip to an office in Hove. No work all day and about 150 miles. Much nicer.
Evening, spent 3 pints on the roof of the Lock Tavern, reading the Unbearable Lightness of Being, which in turn depresses and sometimes uplifts me slightly. It's a well thought out book, but when love is laid waste, to its bare bones, it isn't pretty to look at. I think that between A Lover's Discourse and TULoBm my original idea of love will vanish.
Anyway, enough introspective wanking. Also read the Old Man and the Sea recently, which was marvellous indeed. What else? Gogol's Stories of a Madman, or rather, Diary of; The Alchemist and what else? I can't recall.
I'm unfit and shunning exercise, my diet is good though...
Went to a party with Laura T the other night - first time to see her in a year, I guess. She's fine and the same as ever. We've broken our patterns, as we got drunk together and didn't sleep together. She's going to learn how to make stew with me (teacher) this Sunday.
Tired, tired, tired.
Time for bed.