Crossing the Bridge
This weekend we crossed the new bridge to Macaneta. Before, we had to use this ferryboat to cross the river. It was a frightening experience.
After lunch we returned to Maputo through the same bridge. Even though the job is almost done, it’s still possible to see many Chinese, probably linked with the construction, enjoying the beach. I talked with local people walking across the bridge. At least for now, they are happy with it. If it works for them, it works for us.
One year ago I was happy. Then happiness faded away. I am happy again. A different kind of happiness. There’s a tricky difference between happiness one and happiness two. I have the sensation that one of them was a kind of numbness. Probably, both of them are.
Happiness is always relative. There are moments I fear that this happiness could be seasonal. I am afraid of losing it again. I am afraid of losing it forever.
One year ago I was trying very hard. Now I am not trying at all. Happiness can be explained outside and inside. When people around us are not supportive, it feels like everything is against us. I don’t feel that sort of pressure any longer.
Almost every Thursday morning I sit to write this weekly post. I wish I could tell you the secret of happiness. I just know that you have to feel comfortable with the body and mind of someone. If you don’t, you are losing your time. Once you like him and he also likes you, the rest depends on expressing yourself how often and how clearly you can. After all, I like words of love but only trust in actions. And I am not the only one:
“Un homme n’est pas ce qu’il cache. Un homme est ce qu’il fait, car, au fond de nos âmes, nous sommes tous un peu les mêmes.” André Malraux
It’s three weeks since I was back from Europe and I’m not yet entirely settled. What I crave more is one morning without having to remember some obligation to fulfill before 9am. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Holidays exist for sleeping, relaxing and partying.
Probably, it was the flights and airports. My first time as a lonely traveller! I am proud of myself for crossing Europe, Middle East and Africa, all by myself. As I watched 30 movies at least, now I still have some sleep to catch up.
My liver is also unfit. I don’t think it’s the 2 or 3 small glasses of red wine I drink strictly over lunch. I cannot stand any other kind of alcoholic drink. In my way back, I killed almost 6 hours at the Frankfurt airport by munching all kind of sandwiches and red wine. I got drunk, literally, and had strange and dangerous thoughts during the never-ending flight to Doha. Once arrived, I was sober and stayed sober. Wine wasn’t easy to find. I was sober before Frankfurt and I’ve been sober since Frankfurt. Still, my sleep and liver need some sort of special holidays…
WordPress congratulated me for something I wouldn’t be immediately aware: Tales From the Sea celebrated, very recently, ten years of existence!
I don’t know how many bloggers still write after 10 years, but I surely would like to know. So, my retribution to WordPress is a suggestion: let’s congratulate single-minded bloggers by finding a nice way to show that their perseverance matters…
Hip, hip, hooray!
I’m back from my tour to Germany, Spain and Portugal. Now it’s work and a life I thought it was over. Holidays are a great opportunity to forget. I have someone again. The same someone.
Probably, I can give you three explanations: 1) His plans. 2) My lack of plans. 3) Our blood type.
I knew we had some chemistry, but now I know how it is. His blood type and my blood type have 90% chances of a match. There’s only one case with 95%, so we have been playing with the idea of a shinning silver medal.
Disappointed in… Madrid. The capital of Spain is no longer what I remember.