I was cutting up an avo yesterday when it suddenly struck me: We’ve settled down.
My kitbag is empty, tucked behind a wardrobe; my clothes are folded in a drawer (okay, and a few are crumpled on the floor); the washing machine is churning away; our grocery list is seven items long (and includes household cleaner) and I’m making a salad in our apartment. Yes, in our apartment. And you know what? It feels pretty damn good.
Perhaps I’m on a post-yoga-class high, but even before I stepped onto the mat, I was thinking how good it is to indulge in the everyday-ness of being settled. I’ve joined a yoga studio, Mark’s found his favourite running route, we’ve scouted out the best cafes to work from… it’s the little things that I once took for granted (and, often, detested), but that are now such a novelty.
Apart from having yoga classes to go to, my favourite part of this being-settled thing is having the freedom to prepare and cook our own meals. Nothing fancy, mind you – there are some limitations to renting an apartment that’s been kitted out for short-term stays – but it’s lovely to be able to cook.
The last time we stayed somewhere “long term” (which, for us, means long enough to warrant unpacking our bags) was six months ago in our beloved bamboo house in west Bali. There, our kitchen consisted of a barbeque, a water well and a Frisbee chopping board.
We’ll have been in Pamplona for a month by the time we pack our lives back into our kitbags and move on. By then, my feet will likely be itchy again (I’ve been dreaming of Asia for months already) but for now, I’m revelling in the everyday-ness of being settled.
And we’re still using that Frisbee as a chopping board.