A shock to the system
Two weeks in North Wales was clearly not enough. I got used to getting up naturally and deciding what to do based on my mood. If it was raining, I would stay inside and practise piano. If it looked warm and clear, I would go cycling. The four storey house in Pwllheli had been visited by musicians wanting to relax by the sea and focus on their music. Sensing my predecessors' presence, I too was able to dedicate myself as a musician.
Because the flutist had an early morning coach to catch, we all got up early to eat breakfast together. After packing up the rental car, we departed for Mount Snowdon.
The foggy and wet weather didn't get better as we climbed the winding roads to that famous peak. There was no point taking the train to the top - it would be too misty and uncomfortable. But this detour introduced beautiful landscape we had not expected. On the way out of the Snowdonia National Park, we stopped by a site that said "Fresh Trout for Sale." We bought four fresh rainbow trout for dinner.
Getting to Birmingham was easy. Jackie and Jason steamed two of the trout with ginger and spring onions. The feast of garlic prawns, roast duck, and Chinese broccoli was sensational.
Getting to London proved not so easy. It got really noisy on the M40 motorway past Warwick. The smell of burnt rubber in the night was enough to convince us that a tyre had burst. I was scared that we would be hit or mugged by Saturday night commuters.
The next day we noticed that the two remaining fresh trout had gone off.
A foul smell still persisted. I had forgotten to turn on the loaded dishwasher two weeks ago. The dishes had gotten moldy.
Which was the biggest shock? the flat tyre, the rotten fish, or the moldy dishwasher? None of the above. Coming back to London, where everything's congested and work awaits me - that was the biggest shock of all.
12 August 2001