Saturday 23 July 2016

Errr triple dip

Errr triple dip 23.07.16

What time is it polite to arrive if told we are eating at 5.30 i wonder. Its hard to know in another culture and with someone I barely know. Do i arrive early, on time or late?

Walking around the northern end of the island, talking with Joan, she says she was sad to miss this mornings swim but doesnt think she will find anyone to swim with this afternoon. I find myself saying, maybe, let me know if you dont find anyone. 

First swim this morning it was grey, second swim it was starting to spit but swim number three was nearly as wet out as in. Windy rain now beats down on windows. Not an evening for street music in Torshavn!

I saw fish dumplings for sale on a fish stall in Torshavn last time i was there, 95% fish, he said. I also see them now in supermarket freezers and have been asking how to cook them. Fry them says Hannes. Boil them, says Joan. Whilst swimming, Joan invites me to supper: baked fish dumplings. 

I arrive on time and ask what is a polite time to arrive here? Many people arrive too late she says, on time is good. We eat about an hour later. If invited again, ill be sure to be late. 

I find it hard to fathom the behaviour of others. Joan, pronounced jo-han is being over kind i think. A small woman with wiry and wavy hair, dark spectacles and an impish grin on her face which tilts sidewards, lips pursed, when thinking. It was she who invited me to the swimming group, gave me angelica jam to taste, recipe for pickled rhubarb, introduced me to her family, invited me walking and now invites me for fish dumplings. I am greedy for knowledge but find myself guarded, feel she is being too friendly. i remember misunderstood approaches before, lesbians or those with a religous zeal, seeking converts.

Six of us sit to eat a meal of tennis ball sized, baked fish dumpling, potaoes roasted with herbs, boiled potatoes. No other vegetable, butter, sauce or gravy. The dumpling has a gelatinous texture with little taste, the roast potatoes are good. Baskets of drying herbs lie around the room. Jars of home dried herbs, a large nasturtium leaf in a glass of water, a bunch of overblown vetch in a vase, all sit on the table. clover blossom, picked on this afternoons walk is drying in a dehumidifier. Chicks, recently hatched, cheep in a corner. Joan offers me sea salt, i decline and comment on salt quantaties i often find here, she talks of wanting to make her own sea salt. I ask about the herb on the potatoes, nettles she says. 

We wash up, her husband plays the organ, practising for the chuch service tomorrow. I am invited to attend but remembering my unexpected pentecostal experience in finland, i politely decline but say i will see how i feel.

I think i am ready for home.

I lie in bed, it is morning. Yesterday we spot a tiny house while out walking, it faces the ocean. Built by a man, since died, nobody seems to know who owns it, nobody uses it. It looks to have an outside light so probably has electricity. It is a small house and might suit me well but is isolated, on a track leading up to the low northern hills. Joan will make a call enquiring. If this turns up, i may return.

I send an email to atlantic airways asking about changing the date on my flight. Returning in winter i could rent a comfortable house in the middle of the village.

The sun is shining. Moments of blue show through but layers of grey cloud predominate. The sun goes. A few white fluffballs look to stand no chance of playing in the sky for long. The forecast for the day is cloudy with sunshine this evening. A prime day, perhaps, for the six hour trek to Bordan lighthouse and back but i feel little interest. 

The wind blows, it is sunday. I would like a day at home, cooking and making textiles. Perhaps i will return to my roll of felt wrapped in plastic. Likely by now, a rotten smelly mass of flower parts moulded into fibre. Or not. I think my wool was too hairy, my layers too thin.

I think back to my thoughts on holidays past and conclude that learning suits me well.  i wonder whether a creative course with own flights might suit. A course to get me grounded in a country, understanding the customs, money and transport before staying on to explore, maybe just another two weeks alone. Long enough to explore, not too long to wonder why. I recall an intent for this summer, a bridge break in Croatia followed by two weeks free roaming and then off to a Swim Trek around Croatian islands. I came close but dates didnt work easily and when i considered my range of clothing needs, abandoned the idea. Too ambitious. 

I think though that a bridge break with enormous suitcase containing rucksack could work. I feel reasonably confident i could leave a case at a bridge hotel, book one night there for my return. does that mean im coming home to bridge? I had thought i might let it lie for a while, fully expecting both partners to be in new stable partnerships. I am surprised i look in to check results. John, you are not playing. Jane, you dont appear to have established a partnership.

I think i am coming home. I add to the list of things i want carla to bring to leeds for next weekend ready for my return. 

My house is empty until 7th august. If i come home, i would need then to be away again until the 18th august, eleven days away. A good length of time for a holiday perhaps.