I ♥ the sea

I’ve been sleeping terribly badly lately. Whether I’m drunk or sober, go to bed at 10pm or 6am, I sleep badly, and it’s beginning to make me bad tempered and despondent. Something has to be done…

Today, I took my new bicycle (it’s rusty as hell, has only two working gears and one working break – worryingly, the front one. But it’s new to me. And actually, it’s in pretty good nick for a Utilan bicycle – it has a working break!) and cycled out east to the volcanic iron cliffs where we had stopped off on the golfcart day.

And it was the most fabulous day for it. Fuck sunshine and Caribbean calm – today the sky was filled with clouds and all of the shades of grey, and the sea was raging, and it reminded me of home, in a good way. Raging against the shore in the way that if you step too close, in a second it will whip you down and smash you to pieces. Nothing quite like the threat of imminent death.

I fucking love the sea.

I set off across the moonscape, clambering over the irony, jaggedy, volcanic rocks. With the preceding rain and the ferocity of the ocean, rock pools had formed, filled with clear water, whelks and crabs, creating minute waterfalls. I got to the edge and discovered a second inlet, with an even wilder crashing swell. Like at the brink of a waterfall, or at the edge of the subway tracks, there is that creeping temptation to fling yourself over…

And there I saw m­­­­y perfect house, on the other side of the inlet: a little square cabin with a pagoda-like roof, a balcony with two chairs facing the incoming storm…

I had no camera with me. These pictures from the sunny golfcart day give an idea of the landscape, though without the drama.

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