I was promised Tai Chi. I’d got up at 4:30am for Tai Chi. But there was no Tai Chi. At 5am, however, there was a steady stream of individuals walking purposefully round the lake:
Cities in the morning, just as they’re waking up are a favourite of mine. You see more the real place*.
Feeling smug that I’d at least tried, I decided to go back to bed. Woke up feeling rotten. I’ve been on the go for a while now, and I think my body just needed some down time. Plus, I don’t think the ramboutins (oh, by the way, the fruit that I’ve been calling lychees all this time aren’t, in fact, lychees – they’re “ramboutins”) I ate yesterday were at their best. I stayed in bed most of the day. But I wasn’t so ill that I was going to miss the opportunity to play the piano, so later in the afternoon when I felt more like it, I called My (for that is her name) and popped round. She greeted me warmly, took me upstairs to a spare bedroom where there were another two pianos, offered me the seat and left me to it.
It was wonderful. I played and I practised. And I also didn’t to overdo it after eight weeks of joint stagnation and too much thumb-typing. A decent 45 minutes, though and the world was instantly a better place. She looked confused when I offered to pay her something for her troubles, and when she realised what I was saying, would have none of it.
Then back to bed. What I needed, I decided, was a five-star cruise.
* I remember going for an early morning run from a hotel in Geneva. I’d inadvertently booked one in the red light district, but walking home the previous evening the streets showed no evidence. At 6am, however, there were gaggles of prostitutes outside doors – this was their time. And mine, of course 🙂