It’s the days after, after the long weekend and after school goes back, and it is strangely empty. After the busy, bustling, vibrant energy of a January full of tourists a stillness has descended, an almost audible sigh, like when a house full of guests departs and your senses return to a familiar place. But there’s the pang of loss too, a recognition that something has gone. The immediate contrast is so stark and slowly the memories of what is lost recede and there is a comfort in the return of the familiar. And the locals reclaim their beach and their favourite comfy seats along the esplanade and resume their daily rhythms of walking and jogging and swimming and drinking coffee in the sun.
And this place is home now and these rhythms are our own and our gratitude is so deep, that we should be so lucky to ‘live on holiday’
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