Travelling man

I would never describe myself as “intrepid”.

Once, many years ago, I was offered a free sample of some new aftershave or other, with the advertising tag line “For the man who likes to live on the edge”. My Ex (it was that long ago) was highly amused, remarking that she couldn’t think of anyone she knew who lived further from the edge. I would have objected but she was, of course, correct. My Level 38 Procrastination Skills coupled with a cautious nature, and the fact that money was often too tight to mention, meant that the big adventure was always going to start next year.

Then 2003 happened and I was launched into a big adventure, like it or not. Luckily the current Mrs WeeKeef was there to help and very early in our relationship she suggested a bit of a trip away together. (What is she like!?) Long story short, a freezing cold trip to Brussels was a heartwarming success and we discovered that we both like mixing a bit of foreign history and culture with plenty of pit stops for food, drink or just a bit of a lie down. In the years since we have perfected the fine art of the city break and, though I still can’t see myself on safari or pearl diving in the ocean depths, I have seen a bit more of the world than I thought I ever would.

But it’s not all about spending our hard-earned pennies abroad. We also like to gad about Britain a bit, and we like to do it in some comfort. So I am sitting typing this in a very lovely cottage (with good WiFi) in a stupidly beautiful part of the country (Gloucestershire) with a nice cup of tea and the promise of a cooling shower as I mull over the prospect of a comfy bed.

Except the bed is not that comfy. Or, at least, it’s not MY bed and this is increasingly important for a person who is 49 plus double figures. That is why, sometime in the last 2 or 3 years, Mrs WK and I have taken to bringing our own pillows from home on such sojourns. It’s a bit ridiculous and an incredibly middle-aged thing to do, but then all the WiFi in the world cannot make up for a lumpy mattress and a pillow which would make a Jacobs Cream Cracker look fluffy. If driving to a holiday destination with a back seat full of downy goodness can help to promote a decent night’s sleep, that seems like a good idea to me.

Things never work out as planned, of course. Yes, our heads are cushioned splendidly, but 30 degree heat and that lumpy mattress have Mrs WeeKeef struggling to find a cool spot. The result is that she seems to be taking up even more of the bed than usual. And where does that leave me?

Living on the edge.