A dream within a dream 
Greetings from a tent...
Travelled from one coast to the other this week. West to east.
The weather has been amazing.
Now sat in a tent just south of Lowestoft on one bar of 3G. It’s chucking it down outside. It has been for a few hours now. The puddles forming in the tent are not the ‘refreshing change’ I’d hoped for.
This email will be certainly be late, possibly damp, and shorter than usual.
Is there a word for when you go on holiday and you want to move there permanently? I imagine this happens to everyone. A couple of years ago it happened for me on the Isle of Arran and again earlier this week in Wales. Being born in England, both these places also give me a sense of Monachopsis: The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.
But that does not quell the desire live there.
Wales seems the most attractive option. For a few reasons. I lived there as a child, I have family who live there, and already have a network of contacts in the area.
I’m not alone in this yearning either. The family feels the same. Mostly. My lad has a few reservations. We even went to see a property.
A farmhouse overlooking the sea with stables, three barns, a workshop a slate mine and acres of land. Obviously all this would cost more than our three bed end of terrace in Cambridgeshire. But nothing that a mortgage would not cover.
But if my memory serves me right, this feeling tends to wear off. It lasts a few weeks. You dream a bit, you google a bit, you list the pros and cons and then the life you already have shifts a gear and you need to put all these thoughts on the ‘back burner’.
But it’s nice while it lasts. It’s good to be reminded you have options. To remember how lucky you are. And if your options are limited, you must still dream, because they are not. So whatever you do, dream, and share them. A shared dream is no different to reality.
Here on the other side of the coast we have really made the most of our freedom. The last couple of days have been exhausting.
And super interesting.
This campsite has a strange backchannel. Late at night when the kids are in bed some grown-ups are rediscovering the fun to be had with walkie-talkies. Last night, while washing up a stack of plastic plates in the campsite sinks, I chatted to an environmental health officer called Marshmellow and a mysterious Greek guy called Armadillo. Two other parents somewhere out there in the darkness, now connected in audio. Sharing stories and having fun.
And freakishly while writing this email, a family just pitched up directly behind us in a camper van. I spotted a home made aerial go up on a pole and could not help myself. I had to ask. Yes, he is a fellow ham radio operator, he also lives just down the road. We chat almost every day but never met till now. Here in this random campsite on the edge of the country.
Thanks to @Warzabidul for sharing this link.
Some infinities are bigger than others.
In case you wondered what the difference was between a ‘bike packing’ and a touring bike, this video may clarify things.
A beautifully designed long read discussing climate tipping points.
This album was delivered just before we headed to Wales.
Laura Kidd wrote this great post explaining how this album came about.
It’s #AudioMo! And not too late for you to join in. All you need to do is share some audio online and help people to find it by using the hashtag #Audiomo. It doesn’t have to be anything complicated. Listen to my first one here. I’m half asleep and chatting with a mouthful of food. Recorded straight into the phone and turned into a video with BackPack Studio. (There is a Beta 2.0 version here if you want to try it.) I don’t recommend you choose that particularly lazy style but just so you know… anything goes. :-)
If you don’t feel like sharing audio but would still like to be a part of the community then check out some of the audio posts. ‘Like’, reply and/or comment. Let the community know you are there and listening. If you enjoy audio or audio creation it’s a great way to get to know likeminded people.
My #AudioMo posts so far. Day 01 / Day 02 / Day 03 / Day 04. All these ditties are recorded in one take on the phone. No editing and no post production. I might try to keep this minimalistic (lazy) approach up.
The main difference between a Welsh Dragon Sausage Roll is the addition of leek and chilli.
In my opinion this makes it a far superior sausage roll to any that fail to include said ingredients. The leek and chilli was of course added to pork and not the much more endangered Welsh Dragon. I remember a long while back that trading standards were clamping down on food labelled ‘dragon’ and not ‘pork’ just to ensure there was no confusion.
I have seen identical looking sausage rolls here on the east coast but with just sausage and the usual spices. No dragon. Or chilli.
There was no way we were going to get all our camping supplies into the car for this trip. Until I remembered we could lift up the floor of the eNero boot and utilise the little documented drug smuggling section.
Although the only drug we would be stashing for this trip were boxes of wine. Oh and the dried mushrooms in the blue tub*.
*[Correction, I’m told that’s full of Earl Grey tea.]
One morning in Wales I borrowed my Dad’s old but recently renovated bike to go for a ride. It’s a thing of beauty and something I remember being around for ever.
It was second hand when he bought it in the early 80’s so it might be among the last bikes to have been made by the Dawes family in the 70’s. Possibly a Dawes Sterling.
It was immense fun. Light agile and fast. I only took it up the mountain for a mile and and a half and then back down. Just to see how it felt. It coped well going up and then tried to kill me on the way down. I flew down faster than the breaks seemed to like and the vibration worked a nut loose that was holding the mudguard to the frame. The nut flew off and the bolt dug into the rear tyre and locked the bike up. Even with the back wheel immobile the bike handled well and I was able to skid to a halt in a pretty straight line. I freed the rear wheel and found a scrap of material to tie the mudguard out of the way. Although a quick fix I was able to head back to the farm to tell my Dad that i’d nearly killed his bike, and it me.
He was pretty chilled about it.
I had a black Tom Bromwich tourer built at the same time he got this and I recently discovered Tom had died back in 2006. Lovely chap. You can still get his frames on ebay.
Unlocking the mysteries of Long Covid.
Drones may have autonomously ‘hunted down and remotely engaged’ fleeing soldiers. Via @Minxlj
My life is beige. Every day is the same.
Have you added yourself to the Documentally community map?
Interesting looking to-do list.
Tech Vs Journalism.
The untold story of Scientology founder L Ron Hubbard’s secret pact with Nazi propagandist Leni Riefenstahl.
Thanks for reading. All my audio production this month will be for AudioMo, but I have not forgotten about my mini series with supporting subscribers of this email. Just a bit sidetracked at the moment. Don’t forget that there is much more content, links, resources and audio set aside for supporting subscribers to this email. Please hit the red button [or here] to contribute the price of a single fancy coffee every month and support this publication.
Next week I’m looking forward to a rest. This holiday has been full on. I hope you get to do something different. Leave a comment if you like and I hope we can speak soon. When I have signal.
“Because in the end, you won’t remember working in the office or mowing your lawn. Climb that goddamn mountain.” - Jack Karouac
See you out there.