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A winter break

Eze Group WinterJohn S. Is an EZE Group member who taken pen (and courage in hand) to write his first ever article for us. He lives in Trowbridge in England, is married with 2 children and 3 tiring but lovely (his words not ours) grandchildren. He recently retired after a long career in the haulage business.

So you’ve brought up the children, made that last repayment on the mortgage and from now on the times of stumbling out of bed to the noise of the sleep shattering alarm are far behind you. So what now? Maybe all of the hours spent viewing Grand Designs have motivated you to undertake that property development venture you’ve been recently considering, or perhaps you’ll invest in a set of binoculars and sign up for the Neighbourhood watch, or possibly you’ve made a decision to, after many years of planning, write that prize winning book, so you embark for some wintertime sun, searching for creativity and inexpensive vino.

With luggage loaded and passport ready, you sally forth for conquest and fame, but no sooner do you start preparing your Booker Prize winning acceptance speech, than are you confronted with high blood pressure inducing airport queue’s and flight hold ups. You board the aircraft and to your horror, discover yourself sitting beside a Tourettes suffering individual who ceaselessly mumbles to you for the whole length of the journey. However that’s fine, since you possess a fine pair of earplugs; experienced traveller here.

Arrived safely, the burden of the world has been removed from the shoulders, so when you take a position by the luggage carousel, the old anxieties begin to sneak back, 20 minutes later still no suitcases; a message is played on the tannoy: “Any unattended baggage will be taken off and destroyed”. Occasion for a swift beverage, l think.

Following a confident breeze through immigration, you jump in a cab and off to the resort, the cabby has no English therefore uncomfortable chit chat is effectively side stepped, letting you take pleasure in an uncomplicated enjoyable journey. During which you absorb the lovely surroundings and adapt to the warm local weather. You reach the resort and place your suitcases in the room prior to going to dinner to get a bite to eat, ideas of the booker prize come firing back and you also choose to take an early night and make a start on the masterwork the very first thing, next day. While you rest in bed, it all of the sudden strikes you that you could have overlooked locking the door to the garden.

The following morning you are woken by the noise of feral cats stuck in a standard territorial dispute. The second cup of coffee is finished and you set out with note pad to hand, giving the battle-weary moggies a wide berth and off out in to the pleasingly unfilled promenade. You actually coast downhill towards the harbour, attracted by the great azure ocean before you, its spray faintly perceptible, you halt to get a light breakfast and gaze out on the compact town below, a delicate breeze delivers with it the fragrance of jasmine coming from a close by court-yard, light shimmers off the ocean’s surface as a sense of tranquillity takes over you. You are feeling pleased you’ve made the trip. It is only now that that tranquillity and creativity spreads throughout your soul and so you open up your note pad and commence writing away. While you write, gradually, the town awakens.

Your muse exhausted you go down to the esplanade, young children run happily throughout the congested marketplace, seagulls range over the multi-coloured bunting overhead and that which was once a slight hint of spray has turned into a deafening roar. You go to the breakwater as the sight of an enormous cruise liner comes into view, watching as the passengers stiffly descend the gangplank. Time passes and night time arrives, the buildings and sea become cloaked by an orange glow as the sun sets on the harbour; you walk back to the esplanade to a  find a quiet location and draft the acceptance speech. You find a lovely restaurant while having a couple of glasses of very nice wine and feeling a genuine peace and tranquillity fills your tired body from top to toe. Then all of a sudden a phone call from your daughter-in-law, bad tidings from home …

… You had forgotten to secure the rear door.

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