I’ve been in Wales just over a month. A few short weeks and a lifetime And now, finally, I’m flying back to France, back to time on the road, back to my tiny home on wheels. As we fly, the land below looks like a mosaic of busyness, fields, with their chaotic shapes and a vague acknowledgement to geometry, interspersed with towns and villages with their metal and glass glistening far below, and rare amongst it , surviving haphazard dabbles of woodland, dark in foliage. And I wonder how mankind can be so very clever. How Ziggy and I and a hundred random strangers are seemingly suspended in air, somehow miraculously beyond the hard science, fabric and engineering that keeps us up here. Yet, the same civilization that has us living this improbable moment of flight, is the self same that has been able to pollute, destroy, and take our planet and its beautiful natural world to the brink. The same that can somehow not find the wits or the political wherewithal to solve this climate disaster.
And yes, whilst I type this, I am flying, and yes the guilt of this is huge, the offsetting that I am doing, by paying, and trusting that some faceless organisation will plant trees for me, seems paltry and ridiculous that this will somehow fix, or even begin to address this. And how does me taking this guilt on make any difference? This mess is so much bigger than us as individuals, conscient of it or not. The solutions need to be so much bigger than us as tiny individuals. The politicians need to be so much better. The oligarchs and profiteers need such a different focus. I wonder if maybe, when there is profit to be had in the windmills, maybe then there will be a change. And in the meantime it is us, like Don Quixote, chasing the impossible and waving our reusable water bottles.
And whilst I fly, over hours of endless landscape so altered by man, I wonder how this could be different. What if it had been a matriarchal society? What if it had been not mankind but womankind? For one thing I’m pretty sure that the landscape below would have fewer sharp edges. And I’m sure there would be more wilderness. Would we be flying? Possibly not, but maybe we would have learned how to levitate. Or use those broomsticks haha!
It’s been an amazing time in Wales. So much change, so much achieved. It’s a long story, but we’ve had a huge change in staff, as both my manager and my production manager left the company. It’s been hard – and unpleasant, but funnily enough it’s also been fantastic. Challenging, but also a great time for change, and a new team and key players bringing new life and a new direction to Dr Zigs, with new talents, new dynamism and new ideas. As a team we haven’t had long to bed down, so I’m quite nervous about leaving so soon. Hopefully hybrid working and zoom will come good again.
The main focus of this trip is my mum’s house. It needs sorting now, lawyers and estate agents need ‘assembling’ and bringing into the mix, for what should regretfully and hopefully be the final chapter in what has been a beautiful family home. It’s tinged with pain, with hiraeth – that word that only exists in Welsh, but is so very expressive of exactly this – that lingering melancholic nostalgia for a home. A home that is gone, the time passed, the people dead or dispersed, and only the shell remains, and I must deal with it. I know it will wrench at my heart.
And so Ziggy and I fly out. First down to Perpignan and Bobbelix, a quick visit to friends, an obligatory dip in the sea, before we turn North and meander through summer landscapes towards the Charente.
I’m looking forward to it, to working on the road, to spending more time with Zig, to diving into the sea. Travelling is good for me, the changing days, the new landscapes. We eat better, exercise more, laugh louder and probably squabble more. I have missed this life in my weeks in Wales..
There is also a nervous energy in heading back. Will it be ok, will Bobbelix be ok? Will work be ok? It is always there on the road, that relationship with the unknown. Change, that inevitable condition of life is more visceral, part of every day, at each different landscape, different view. A life lived so much more outdoors, more in touch with the elements, the birds, the scuttling variety of insects with their superpowers to terrorise a towering 13 year-old.
And along with that nervous energy is that thrill, the excitement and joy of a life in a van on the road, and a life lived much more simply.
Can’t wait to see you Bobbleix!
And yes, whilst I type this, I am flying, and yes the guilt of this is huge, the offsetting that I am doing, by paying, and trusting that some faceless organisation will plant trees for me, seems paltry and ridiculous that this will somehow fix, or even begin to address this. And how does me taking this guilt on make any difference? This mess is so much bigger than us as individuals, conscient of it or not. The solutions need to be so much bigger than us as tiny individuals. The politicians need to be so much better. The oligarchs and profiteers need such a different focus. I wonder if maybe, when there is profit to be had in the windmills, maybe then there will be a change. And in the meantime it is us, like Don Quixote, chasing the impossible and waving our reusable water bottles.
And whilst I fly, over hours of endless landscape so altered by man, I wonder how this could be different. What if it had been a matriarchal society? What if it had been not mankind but womankind? For one thing I’m pretty sure that the landscape below would have fewer sharp edges. And I’m sure there would be more wilderness. Would we be flying? Possibly not, but maybe we would have learned how to levitate. Or use those broomsticks haha!
It’s been an amazing time in Wales. So much change, so much achieved. It’s a long story, but we’ve had a huge change in staff, as both my manager and my production manager left the company. It’s been hard – and unpleasant, but funnily enough it’s also been fantastic. Challenging, but also a great time for change, and a new team and key players bringing new life and a new direction to Dr Zigs, with new talents, new dynamism and new ideas. As a team we haven’t had long to bed down, so I’m quite nervous about leaving so soon. Hopefully hybrid working and zoom will come good again.
The main focus of this trip is my mum’s house. It needs sorting now, lawyers and estate agents need ‘assembling’ and bringing into the mix, for what should regretfully and hopefully be the final chapter in what has been a beautiful family home. It’s tinged with pain, with hiraeth – that word that only exists in Welsh, but is so very expressive of exactly this – that lingering melancholic nostalgia for a home. A home that is gone, the time passed, the people dead or dispersed, and only the shell remains, and I must deal with it. I know it will wrench at my heart.
And so Ziggy and I fly out. First down to Perpignan and Bobbelix, a quick visit to friends, an obligatory dip in the sea, before we turn North and meander through summer landscapes towards the Charente.
I’m looking forward to it, to working on the road, to spending more time with Zig, to diving into the sea. Travelling is good for me, the changing days, the new landscapes. We eat better, exercise more, laugh louder and probably squabble more. I have missed this life in my weeks in Wales..
There is also a nervous energy in heading back. Will it be ok, will Bobbelix be ok? Will work be ok? It is always there on the road, that relationship with the unknown. Change, that inevitable condition of life is more visceral, part of every day, at each different landscape, different view. A life lived so much more outdoors, more in touch with the elements, the birds, the scuttling variety of insects with their superpowers to terrorise a towering 13 year-old.
And along with that nervous energy is that thrill, the excitement and joy of a life in a van on the road, and a life lived much more simply.
Can’t wait to see you Bobbleix!