under another sun

Lorraine busily getting ready for Pat's party tomorrow, and driving off to Hateful Heath to get the cupcakes which were going to be shaped into the number ninety tomorrow, and arriving home with drifty black bags with helium balloons in them. Then Lorraine and I hopped aboard the Seaford train and slowly made our way north to St Pancras, where we crossed the road and met Romy and Toby, up on the 10th floor open air bar of the Standard Hotel, which had fine views of London. We were surprised to find Mike and Zena there too. A merry reunion. Romy looking remarkably recovered from her flight which arrived yesterday. Lots to talk about with her. Mike and Zena have moved to Little Venice, and are loving the area.  Back to street level, and Zina and Mike melted away with promises to visit us. Then we four mooched off Merchant's Square, round the back of King's Cross, a stylish rebuilt area opposite St Martin's art school and canals. I knew a bit from having worked near there ...

 So a holiday. Thank God.  I needed a complete break, so did not take my computer and did not blog.  Instead I took a new mould green notebook, a kindle, a volumes of poetry by Cavafy and Elyitis and my camera. I wrote was a couple of Greek inflected poems rewriting the drafts in my new notebook just as I did in the out of date diaries Gwen and Dave used to give me as a teenager that served as poetry notebooks. The journey to Meganisi fine. A morning flight, Lorraine drove us to Gatwick. Everything looking sunbaked even in the morning. Passing an inferno of a car which had crashed into a tree and was gouting flames and a vertical line of smoke, and a fire in a field visible as we took off.   The plane delayed an hour and a half on the runway, but the flight fairly comfortable, and after a judicious gin and tonic felt reasonably relaxed. A small boy sitting at the window seat and me in the middle. Lorraine made friends with him of course and he showed us a water drink...