The Nomad is on the move again. This time on a journey north – the MOST north I have been in fact. All the way up to Inverness, Scotland. Shame it’s business not pleasure and all to short – but the company will no doubt be good and the views out the window interesting.
So my journey begins at the lovely London Luton airport (some ways from London in fact). Why are airports so packed full of eateries? And nothing really appropriate for my fussy tummy. As a vegetarian who avoids bread I am usually stumped. I settled for an Italian sounding folded mushroom and cheese thing, which looked lovely in the cabinet until it was presented to me on a plate that melted better than the cheese. I cast my mind back to other travelling meals – Green Door Pizza in Jerusalem in the 1980s; Dinner at Turquiose Mountain with Rory in Kabul; Kormaran Restaurant in Bratislava (complete with Hungarian gypsy fiddlers) – and I feel like a bit of a fake. My lunch tastes of the plastic it’s presented on and the plastic that paid for it.
You are charged money to drop someone off at the airport these days, so my other half hastily urged me out of the vehicle as we drew close, leaving me to navigate roundabouts and trolley piles in a bizarre state of mind. Perhaps best explained by my contemplations on nomadic-wisdom site (“wise” is of course open for debate). Point is this – what a nomad does best is think.
I’m glad I arrived early in advance of my eager business partner (who is an uber-nomad himself with three continents on the cards in the next couple of weeks). As I wrote in the aforementioned blog, despite my avoidance of fasting, this month really is a time for contemplation. I very recently lost someone very close to me and it has thrown all sorts of issues up in my mind. I find myself thinking WWLD (what would Lisa do) and frequently hear her judging internal decisions – “what the fuck, Mrs CJ?” . I love her and I miss her, but what this Nomad feels most keenly is the realisation that life can be stolen from you at any moment – so you better fucking get it right (there she is again). I REALLY don’t want to waste my time doing anything half-heartedly. I don’t want to do anything without purpose. And I really don’t want to deny my creativity.
So why am I going to Scotland? To discuss some big business decisions with my business partner and with another company. Given my frame of mind I am not sure what future I will carve out for myself in all this. It could be anything from chief blogger to bottlewasher. Perhaps not the best time for bid decisions, but it’s all part of the web that EVERYONE weaves.
Did I mention that I am an artist?
Nuff said. I can hear her laughing again. She was too.
I am surrounded by blank faced travellers lugging their belongings behind them in wheeled suitcases . Time to by-pass Food Village, Simply Food, Fucking Food and head for WHSmith to buy a copy of Private Eye – need to catch up on the weeks politics in a cynical way.
Ah. The eager man has arrived. More from me later.