My favourite place The snow bonneted Rockies in Canada are stunning. The brooding immensity of Uluru in Australia has a haunting atmosphere. The precision of the Egyptian pyramids is mind blowing. The idiosyncratic customs of western Europe are charming. And the home spun beauty that is England is reassuring. But of all the places around the world, my favourite by a country mile, is snuggled up in bed, at home with you.
You old smoothie, you!
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π It’s the Yorksher blood.
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I’m interested, though, do you have a favourite place, as in location? I’ve been to several places where I felt I belonged, but one place I always fancied ending up again was right down in the Pyrenees. Deep south. An hour past Carcasonne.
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Not really, to be honest. I have seen some truly wonderful and spectacular sights, and France was very welcoming for the ten years we lived there. I think, in the end though, the pull of home becomes stronger as we get older. It does for me anyway! π
I have driven round that area in a motor-home when we were touring Europe, and it is beatiful.
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Sweet, there is no place like home.
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Thank you, and no there isn’t.
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Lovely.
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π
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As usual, you saw a nail and you knew exactly where it’s head was! I think it’s an instinct with you.
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Awe, thanks Worms. I was asked this very question by a friend a long time ago, because we have done a fair bit of travelling in our 40+ years together. That was my answer then, and it remains even more so to this day!
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π
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The best love poem I’ve read.
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Thank you Ulle, I really appreciate that! π
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