The horrors of the 30 odd hour plane/transit journey are behind me and I have spent the day, including this post, fighting to stay awake so that I can sync my body clock with the locals.
You know it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity. Those of you who know me know that I am a gifted perspirer. As I was exercising this gift on the plane after having taken a shower at Hong Kong airport, a fellow traveller tried to reassure me by saying “once the pores are open, there’s naught stopping it” in a serious north England accent. It occurred to me that my pores must have opened somewhere in the late seventies and haven’t looked back since.
The thoughts that I had promised to make time for are already misbehaving and attention seeking. About a life well lived, what do I want it to have looked like at the end. If you’re reading this and you have some thoughts on the matter, I would love to hear them. I’ll share some later, of course if yours are good I’ll steal them and claim them as my own. About my life so far, what I believe. A surprising amount devoted to economics and social justice.
I spent the afternoon scoping the local area. Irish pubs that I can avoid, cafes that I can practice looking deep and reflective in. In the late afternoon I walked up to Montmartre, the highest point in the city, and attended mass at Sacre Coeur. It was a genuinely special experience to do church with other people who might also think that Jesus might be the answer. Afterward I sat and looked reflective in a cafe.