Need a moment's rest?



A resting place for Mediterranean travellers

This is a small kiosk. Closed for the evening, but opening the next morning, even in the Mediterranean winter. A beautiful place to stop and rest.

There are many people who walk the path alongside the sea, and some of them will stop for refreshments, as soon as the street lights go out and it is morning.

I saw the morning delivery of drinks and pastries delivered, but I didn't get back to sit there.  Instead I am filled with jetlag, that indescribable feeling of not being able to keep up with the rest of the world around me.

For example, last night I made it to the National Theatre Live broadcast of Fela.  Oh, I might have dozed, but only for a minute.

"Wasn't the scene stunning when the compound was surrounded by soliders, and Fela's mother was thrown from a second story window," said Rebecca to me this morning when we were talking on the telephone.

"That must have been when I was asleep," I said.

"No one could have slept through that," she said. "Lights were flashing, guns were going off, the music was forte, a huge crowd scene, headlines being flashed on screens on the wall, the climax of the first act."

Well, that is jetlag for you, I thought.  All of that passed me by.

I was commiserating with Wyona over my inability to keep my eyes open at the climax of the first act. 

She told me that this morning, she fell asleep in the three hour medical lecture she has been waiting to attend.  She took care of the problem at the break.  When others went to stretch their legs, she said she just laid her head down on the table.

"Did you actually sleep?" I asked.

""I don't think so," she replied, "although I will say that when the break was over, the instructor had to shake my shoulder and ask me if I wanted to wake up and participate in the group work we were startng."

Yes. 

No one needs a rest like two women who have just had a holiday.

Arta