If only every Monday could be like this. I have spent the day just laying by the gorgeous Mui Ne beach, reading and getting a tad sun burnt.
I can never normally summon the attention span to be by a beach for too long, if that makes sense. I can walk along one and drink by one, but just sitting still and doing nothing has never really been my bag. Today was the exception.
Mui Ne beach, on the south eastern coast of Vietnam, is stunning. Its only down side, from my perspective, is the wind and choppy waters. These conditions make it a prime haven for surfers and thrill seekers, while I prefer utter tranqulity and for the sea to be as clear and calm as posssible.
I waited until a respectable 2.30pm to have my first beer of the day, and then spent the afternoon engrossed in Tony Benn's diaries from 2001 to 2007. This is my third book of the holiday (I've just finished reading Fatherland by Robert Harris, an excellent thriller set in 1960s Germany as if the Nazis had won the war) and I've been very lucky with my choices so far. I would say that having a good book is the most essential element of travelling alone. Provided you can lose yourself in whatever you're reading, you can forget whatever else pops into your mind when alone. Last year in this part of the world I didn't like two of the books I had taken with me and was reduced to buying copies of The Sun that had been imported.
I've not been reading the news from home while away, but I have been looking at the sport every day. You can't escape English football here even if you wanted to. Norwich only drew with Burnley at home on Saturday, a game they really needed to win. It looks bad - we really could end up being relegated to the third tier for the first time in 50 years. Yet further proof that when I get back there will not be many Mondays like the one I've had today...
I can never normally summon the attention span to be by a beach for too long, if that makes sense. I can walk along one and drink by one, but just sitting still and doing nothing has never really been my bag. Today was the exception.
Mui Ne beach, on the south eastern coast of Vietnam, is stunning. Its only down side, from my perspective, is the wind and choppy waters. These conditions make it a prime haven for surfers and thrill seekers, while I prefer utter tranqulity and for the sea to be as clear and calm as posssible.
I waited until a respectable 2.30pm to have my first beer of the day, and then spent the afternoon engrossed in Tony Benn's diaries from 2001 to 2007. This is my third book of the holiday (I've just finished reading Fatherland by Robert Harris, an excellent thriller set in 1960s Germany as if the Nazis had won the war) and I've been very lucky with my choices so far. I would say that having a good book is the most essential element of travelling alone. Provided you can lose yourself in whatever you're reading, you can forget whatever else pops into your mind when alone. Last year in this part of the world I didn't like two of the books I had taken with me and was reduced to buying copies of The Sun that had been imported.
I've not been reading the news from home while away, but I have been looking at the sport every day. You can't escape English football here even if you wanted to. Norwich only drew with Burnley at home on Saturday, a game they really needed to win. It looks bad - we really could end up being relegated to the third tier for the first time in 50 years. Yet further proof that when I get back there will not be many Mondays like the one I've had today...
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