Hell Breaks

13 OH, it was a lovely holiday. He said. And it was. Like I mentioned previously, I visited Allhallows with work, a lovely little place out in Medway, on the Thames Estuary. It was windy. Very windy. To the point where I did believe at one point I might, on the off chance, get blown away.

It is somewhere that seemed so empty at times, and considering it was a midweek break in England's risky month of March we were lucky. No snow, no really heavy rain, just the biting breeze coming in off the sea.

It was a great place to explore, and I do like to explore, with empty grasslands reminding me of Dungeness and other desolate places. Note to self though, don't walk on mud flats, you will sink, you will think that this is the moment where you die, suffocated by mud.

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We visited the quaint little town (read: city) of Rochester, and got to visit the awe inspiring cathedral, and I am always amazed at how exactly they managed to build them, and then I let my mind take it's own journey, mulling over how many people had to die to build a place to worship a deity. (I don't believe in god, although I can empathise as to why people would).

Rochester reminded me of Rye, and it's little cobbled streets and it felt nice and good being there. Even though I was so much younger than every other person we seemed to pass.

Going to new places always makes me feel young, even if I'm not the youngest person in the world. There is an ignorance of the streets to take, or where things are that reminds me I am still so young and stupid at times.


The beach though, was by far my favourite, and it's made me want to book a holiday down to Cornwall or Devon with the boy to go visited somewhere equally as quiet and pretty, but maybe not so windy. Maybe a little warmer too.

I do like travel as it broadens the mind (as I'm told).

I have yet to collect all my travel experiences into anything other than whimsical prose, no artwork is forth coming from photos of mud flats, just a serene feeling inside that I can do this, I will do this, and I should be proud of myself and my friends and the rest.

I am an artist, I do make art and sometimes, sometimes, I feel like it, I have an identity, all for me.

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