There is usually one month (at least) each year when my blogging mojo runs out of steam. Usually this coincides with a planned holiday. It is not unusual while away to have poor wifi and long days out and about enjoying the sights of the area. Also, unless this was to become a travel blog, there is little to write about.
This year, since I am not working, I thought it would be different. Except that the first few months of the year were pretty frantic for blog posts. Ideas came in thick and fast and then there were the memes. February photofest, A-Z in April and then Every Damn Day in June. This year, the approach of my holiday coincided with my only working period so far this year. Yes, in June and July I had paid work. Indeed I spent about 5 days while in France writing a report and being paid. I only intended to take a short break from blogging, but in the end only posted 4 times in July.
But I think that in the long run this break will have done me good. It’s impossible to keep going as I was without either repeating myself or just blogging for its own sake. I know many people manage to keep the momentum going, but I really can’t. My level of creativity requires time spent resting and yes, a retreat.
I am lucky to have a place where I can recharge my batteries. A place where life can exist at a slower pace. My retreat, in the South of France is a small apartment in a holiday resort, busy in the height of summer, dead in winter. A place where we have spent the past 3 Easters, the odd weekend in March, September and October, but few summer nights. This year I was determined to spend an extended time there.
I love to sit on the balcony on a July morning and feel the coolish air. The sun doesn’t fill it with heat and light until lunch time. This made it an ideal office space. We also enjoyed the 14th July fireworks from that same vantage point on the day we arrived. I can read there in the afternoon while sun bathing, eat dinner looking over the swimming pool and finally enjoy a late night drink before bed.
Of course we also go out, stroll around the port or lake. Walk down to the beach and stroll along the promenade. Explore the shops and the village market. Life there is different from at home in England.
After two weeks we left for our week on the boat so my niece and her family could enjoy our little retreat. I’m pleased that they had a wonderful time, making fabulous memories. My great nephew enjoyed his first ever holiday there and his mum re-lived holidays from her own childhood.
I know I am lucky to have a place like this to visit and enjoy. But I am grateful that at last I am able to spend time there. In my special place, my retreat. We return for one final week on Wednesday before starting the return journey back home and reality.