The disadvantage of the Blogtober Challenge is that I have to write to order. I don’t enjoy taking orders. I don’t enjoy it at all. At. All.
Today I have to write about my dream destination. I haven’t really wriggled with the rules yet this month but I’m going to have to today – and I don’t think that I’m going to get into too much trouble.
I’m a real home body. I dislike change and I like to be able to control my environment. That’s not to say that I don’t like to travel. I just like to stay in one place for long enough to unpack. I want to be able to linger. I want to wander streets. I want to get a feel for a place. A holiday is a holiday.
I can absolutely see why people want to laze about on beaches. I’m not as bothered by ticking off the world’s wonders anymore. I want to feel holiday…but I’m pale and, truthfully, neither my body nor my temperament cope well with very hot weather.
I need to go somewhere with temperatures in the mid 70s and a little greenery, in order to be really happy. A mix of culture, shopping and food is necessary. If I’m lazing I want a pool or good beach. Those aren’t hard and fast rules. I’m okay with having most of my demands met. Town or country isn’t important as long as there’s an opportunity to both interact with people and escape them.
But, if we’re talking about dreams, I’m thinking that I should be in fairy godmother territory so I’m going to tell you what my wishlist is – and keep it down to three, as tradition dictates.
1. San Francisco in the late 1960 / early 1970s.
Thanks to Armistead Maupin – and an overactive imagination – I’ve dreamt this experience. Seriously. I have dreamt of it. Times of change are very freeing. There are few taboos and it’s down to the inhabitants of a community to create their own social mores. I’d like to see that process actually happening.
2. Berlin in the early 1930s.
I have a fascination with contrast. The cabaret culture was so fashionable, yet so at odds with the slowly prevailing fascist politics that the tipping point is something that I would want to witness – were it possible.
3. Paris in the 1880s.
I studied History of Art and I’m slowly realising that I have a taste for revolution. It would be wonderful to see works like Manet’s Déjeuner sur l’herbe as they were hung – and to hear the reactions from the first critics to see them.
There are a few other things I would like to have been able to do – dancing at Studio 54 springs to mind – but I have to nail it down and those would be my final choices.
What would your dream destinations be?
Author’s note (November 24th, 2018): it has dawned on me that I must have been in serious need of a night out (out) when I wrote this.
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