I had a truly excellent weekend in Devon: great company, Pixar, monkeys and Katie Melua. That’s a pretty much perfect combination right there.
To keep me entertained on the drive I bought the audiobook of On Chesil Beach. I thought this was a good plan – I always like Ian McEwan, and this was an unabridged version of a fairly short novel. So I set off, windows wide open to stop me burning up, having set up an iPod playlist with a bit of music and a podcast for when I needed to concentrate, then the book once I reached the motorway. This worked great, and the book started just as I hit the traffic jam.
I don’t know if you’ve read On Chesil Beach. It’s about two virgins with sexual hangups on their wedding night. It’s far from obscene, but has a few choice phrases in the first ten minutes.
Couldn’t do it. You know how in heavy traffic you always end up next to the same cars? All their windows were open too. I tried, but I had to turn it off. ‘Engorged penis’ was the final straw. What a wuss. It was stop-and-start for much of the M25, so I gave up – I’ll listen to it when the world’s cooled somewhat.
Lots to write about, but I’m a little bothered this evening and the words won’t flow. More soon.