Oddly enough, I had a conversation with a taxi driver about holidays in France yesterday. His recommendation was for St Malo in Brittany. I have a feeling it’s harder to get there by train than it is to the south, but maybe I just haven’t looked it up yet. I do have my own paperback copy of ‘The Man in Seat 61’ (also a great website) which I must remember to get out some time for a browse, if I can find it. So many books surfaced during the great de-cluttering that the best ones may be buried under these long-lost friends.But I have a vague idea that it’s somewhere in the conservatory.
This morning I unexpectedly reached the end of the first draft of the latest in my mystery series. This means I’ve written 15,000 words towards my Camp NaNoWriMo target of 30,000. It may seem like quite an unambitious target in some ways, but as I may already have mentioned, I am about to embark on something new and different for the next 15,000 words, so I wanted to give myself some leeway. I have no idea how the new thing will come out. I may even have to abandon it, reluctant though I am to do that with anything I write.
I’ve also spent a bit of time researching swimming pools after an extremely annoying conversation with the doctor the other day. Apparently having severe arthritis in both hips and finding it hard to walk any distance is no excuse for taking no exercise whatsoever. Rats! I really thought my alibi was waterproof, so to speak. Anyway, I think I might manage a swim now and then. Actually it isn’t the swimming itself that’s at all problematic – I would love to swim every day if I had a pool in my house that I could just slide into now and then, lolling around in the conservatory afterwards to dry off. It’s all the effort around swimming that I don’t know if I can cope with. Getting to the pool. Learning how the changing arrangements and lockers work. Changing back into everyday clothes while you still feel a bit damp all over. Going out in the cold with wet hair… I think I’ve just talked myself out of it again!