I’m not ready to hang up my travelling boots.
I have started discussing with John a plan I am hatching for some time in the mid 2020s when Alula no longer needs stationary parents (or nearby parents for that matter) when we will buy an old airstream and drive across and around the Americas for say, maybe, ten years.
We will own a husky dog which I think we will call Lobo and a gazebo we can put up outside for evening dining possibly draped with fairy lights, and by then everything will be electronicafied so I’ll have an ipad for books and I won’t need to yell at John for navigating us to Canada instead of Mexico because the GPS will be driving the car for us and we’ll have Netflix set up too that we can watch movies from our fold-down double bed with Egyptian cotton sheets and an antique quilt (cos you need some luxuries on the road). I even started looking at posh plastic melamine plates and wondering about things like authentic matching salt and pepper shakers for the era airstream we’d own and how we could place a white sheet off the end of the airstream and rig up a projector for on the road entertainment with the cool people we’d park up next to in the RV park when I realized I was perhaps planning ahead too far. And really I should re-engage my planning brain on trying to pack half a thriftstore into one suitcase and re-focus my imagination on my third book (going well thanks for asking).
So am I ready to return to London? What do you think? Does it sound like it?Would I ever be though?
No. I have tasted sunshine and ecstatic dancing and canoed with dolphins and eaten grapes off the vines in the Napa valley and faced down a bear and written two books and found that there is a whole world of amazing opportunity and potential and incredible adventures out there so no, there’s frankly no going back. Especially not to a Tory run country in the midst of a recession. Plus I’d have to get a job because being a writer only pays well enough if you live somewhere like Indonesia or you’re Stephanie Meyer (working on that plan). And then there’s the little issue of laundry too.
So I have an idea, why don’t you come join us out here instead? You could be the cool people in the airstream next door.
Oh come on, you know you want to. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe it’s just me. I’m sagittarius and I don’t like doing laundry.
canwelivehere.com 
It’s not just you. I too am a washing-hating Sagitarius who dreams far far into the future on a near daily basis. Save us a pitch…we’re coming with ya!
yay! can you bring the popcorn?
Hey! We met in Ojai in the hot springs — I kinda figured you were a Sag — explains a lot!
We’ve often talked about getting into an airstream and living out of it. Probably won’t happen, but even so, I think that no matter where a person lives or what they do, they can totally travel and explore each and every day. So many people I know hole themselves up in their houses and watch reality TV. What a waste when there is so much else to do…
Owning an airstream can be a state of mind — the fantasy a catalyst for always learning and searching for something new.
Ahhh hello
How are you? Dreaming of those hot springs. You make a good point – though the airstream still beckons me!
oh so glad it’s not just me then. Sagittarius unite.
You’re right about exploring each day. I know when we’re settled in Bali I will have to remember that. Still loads to learn and people to meet. Hope to meet you all (again or for the first time) on the road or in Bali one day.
You can be self-sufficient at the ages of 10 and 13 can’t you? If so, count us in. Dave can rig the projector no worries. x
vic I like your thinking and the thought of having you guys in the airstream next door gives me endless pleasure. Think of all the buffy dvds we could watch in 10 years. next chapter coming to you soon.