Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Bolt, spa and my evening.

1.This is the morning of my spa session. I bolt out of the lodge as soon as I can and race down the hill on the bike without the trailer -- I would have gone faster still if it weren't for the pesky zig-zags in the path. It's mostly boardwalk, which makes a very satisfying dumpety-dumpety noise. The spa still wasn't open so I ran twice round the lake to make sure I deserved my morning off.

2. The spa is everything the brochure promised: it has about... fourteen (I'd lost count by 10am) different sorts of bath. I lounged warm tiles, on hot wooden slats, breathed steam scented with fresh rosemary, ylang-ylang, eucalyptus and salt, floated in an outdoor pool, scrubbed myself with ice and bounced on a waterbed.

3. To be able to pour a glass of wine and sit down with my husband not much after 7pm.

Over the field, the path divides and perished.

1. After the bridge, the hard path cuts across the middle of a grass field spangled with buttercups. 2. The hard path continues left; or the...