It’s been more than a week since I last wrote. I don’t like winging, but the British weather really doesn’t inspire my literature veins to flow too enthusiastically. Our initial meeting with Southampton, our potential winter home, wasn’t quite as flabbergasting as when we got to Paris, or Andalucía or our weeks in Lisboa. Not at all. It takes a little digging to find its charm. Yes, Jane Austin lived here for a couple of years. Every British king walked through its lion guarded gate. Bits and pieces of the historic city wall remain. In the late 1700s Southampton used to be THE spa town as bathing had become trendy and prescribed as healthy by physicians of the time. The Tudors left behind a bit of their history too. And of course, the cruise liners who horn in and out of the port daily are quite impressive. Plus, it’s got one of the best playgrounds we’ve seen. So here we go, I guess this almost impressive list shows that with a bit of digging I have discovered its charm after all, although it’s not even sure yet whether we’ll be here or in London to top up our kitty for the next few months before sailing off – fingers crossed – next spring or summer. Job pending.

The few days back in Paris passed ways too fast. First, my grand-parents came to see us. No words to describe the joy on their faces when spending time with their great grand-kids. What an inspirational example – at the age of almost 80 they are still flexible enough to pack their bags from one day to the other and hop on a train for five hours. Once there, they are fit enough to walk all day long from one amazing piece of Parisian architecture to the next. Filled with life and urge to take it all in. Amazing! Then a weekend in the company of old and new friends. An intro to acro yoga (wow!), a wonderful massage and, God bless, a lot of not so healthy, but absolutely delicious food.

Another ferry crossing and we are back on the other side of the English channel. Looking out of my window onto the massive waves clashing against the rocks. It’s not even 5 pm yet and already dark. It has been raining all day. The sky too grey to see anything. Our battery still broken, so even in the van it’s freezing. Nevertheless, spirits are up high. The kids sparkling and laughing as if external circumstances couldn’t change their mood in the world. We tag along. What a nice way to be. Next weekend another retrouvaille in London. With good company, an old drop or two of red, some veggies on the roast and a pudding in the oven life can’t be too bad. An update from the nomadic family, looking for a boat, living in a van and taking one step at a time. The journey is what it’s all about in the end.