Did I mention that I signed up for the Cape Town marathon? And with just over a month to train for the event, I’m really struggling to remember WHY I’d want to put myself through all that pain.
My plane ticket to India has been booked. THIS – this is happening! And I couldn’t be more excited.
My brother, mother and I will be flying into Mumbai at the end of the year. There we will check out India’s largest amusement park and watch a Bollywood film, before heading off to Udaipur. From there we will …? Well, I’m not sure. Right now, Agra, Jodhpur, Jaipur, Delhi and Nepal are all possibilities.
Possibilities. Isn’t that just the sexiest word in the English language?
I am currently rereading “The God of small things” by Arundhati Roy.
Here’s an extract:
“It wasn’t what lay at the end of her road that frightened Ammu as much as the nature of the road itself. No milestones marked its progress. No trees grew along it. No dappled shadows shaded it. No mists rolled over it. No birds circled it. No twists, no turns or hairpin bends obscured even momentarily, her clear view of the end. This filled Ammu with an awful dread, because she was not the kind of woman who wanted her future told. She dreaded it too much. So if she were granted one small wish perhaps it would only have been Not to Know. Not to know what each day held in store for her. Not to know where she might be, next month, next year. Ten years on. Not to know which way her road might turn and what lay beyond the bend. And Ammu knew.”