I'm taking a little time out between jobs, so recently I've been a homebird. It's rather nice; there's time to do all the things you always meant to do but never got round to. So far I've painted my front door a nice navy blue, turned my £3 M&S market bought dress into a sassier version of itself - complete with ruffles - whipped up a mean chilli for pals and cleared out the kitchen dresser (in the process stumbling across a darling little vintage watch which must have been Mama's).
This evening I also got around to watching a movie I've been meaning to catch for ever - The Motorcycle Diaries. That's when I realised there's something else I never got around to doing; I forgot to ever go travelling. It's something I would like to do but honestly I don't think the time has ever been right. If I was going to go away for plenty time, it would have to be exactly right. The repercussions of Guevara's travels in the movie (certainly I ought to read up as well; I intend to) are vast and really, I would want any stint away to have a great impact on me too. Not that I am ever going to become a Communist revolutionary - more's the pity - but an extended holiday would just feel pointless. Travel for travel's sake is a huge luxury and if I was going to capitalise on it I would at least need to feel that I had the made the most of the opportunity, whether through making a physical impact or forming personal ideas.
Adventure comes out of the blue, though - you don't have to hop on a plane to find it. Prettiness itself, M, told me a friend of hers will often take a different route to work just to add adventure to his day. Or you can take a trip back in time like I have done today, simply by rifling through my kitchen drawers. Guaranteed you'll make discoveries untold.
*Just as a footnote, is there anything more beautiful than Gael Garcia Bernal?
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