Eurovision rehearsals began in Rotterdam. I followed online content for days, read the blogs and articles, and watched the vids of people I know virtually, who share the love with me. That cheered me up no end. Then, I watched the film, Before Sunrise. It's my automatic answer to the question, 'Hey Nicky, what's your favourite film?' and when I first saw it at nineteen, I fell in love with every single second. In recent years, I've given it space. I've kept away for over a decade in case it hasn't aged well. I'd rather remember it as it was, not what it's become. But my gamble paid off. It was joyous to reconnect and made me realise I'm still the person I was twenty years ago. (Sort of, better, more cynical, but still able to identify with the people on screen.) It was lovely to revisit myself through the medium of my favourite film - the one that kick-started all sorts of creative endeavours of my own. But then it was right back to the present. I went to the cinema. Yes, the cinema! How weirdly moving to sit with strangers in the dark and watch a film. So commonplace in the before times but now empowering and triumphant. Better still, was the film. When Nomadland - a cinematic stunner of landscapes, open spaces, and the world beyond lockdown - finished, I sat until the end of the credits. Not only out of respect for the names on the screen but because I didn't want to leave the world I'd just been part of. Another woman on my row did the same, and we walked out together in mutually smiling silence. Then, as night follows day, the Eurovision Final follows the weeks of build-up. My favourite day of the year had arrived. A night of banging music, camaraderie, and for the first time ever, my favourite song won. This rarely, if ever, happens, but the song I'd had on daily repeat in the weeks leading up to the big day, took the trophy. And another fab thing has come from that. I've got a new band to devour. Discovering music is always a thrill and ESC winners, Måneskin, have two albums that I've hoovered up since. Who knew I was into Italian rock? Not me for a tiny second. But let's move on. Last week, the build-up to a repeatedly-postponed weekend in a caravan arrived. Planning for it was strangely exotic. What did I need for three nights in Wales? I hadn't an igloo so packed everything I own. The weekend arrived as did the road trip to the seaside to meet with three generations of family. So what if we had to be outside in order to socialise as a group? Even the most bracing sea air was a welcome change from the stagnation of lockdown. Then I discovered a Nick Hornby book I'd never read. A cup of tea and a morning of losing myself in other people's worlds was truly restorative. So what else has happened? My own book is finished. There's nothing to do except wait for its emergence online, and it's fab to have to stop thinking about it for five minutes. I've eaten out a couple of times and started to think about booking a holiday for next year. Just looking at locations with a realistic expectation of visiting feels a million years away from recent times. Even if I don't actually make firm plans yet, I know it's likely I can. What a change?!
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| It'd be rude not to include a Before Sunrise gif when it's held up so well. |
Like I said, it's a whistle stop tour of my recent experiences and perhaps the longest paragraph I've ever blogged - essential to break it up with colour, I'm sure you'll agree. A lot of stuff's been squeezed into the past fortnight and it's made me realise something. The pandemic and writing a novel have similarities. For so long, it's really dull. The days go slowly - whether you're locked down for public health reasons, or writing something that's only in your head until you get it on the page. When people ask, 'How's the book going?' - which is lovely of them to even bother - you find yourself replying with 'Fine', 'It's going well', or 'Yeah, good thanks,' even when it's been doing your head in for weeks. I bet it was the same when someone asked you how you were over lockdown. 'Oh you know, as good as I can be', or 'Keeping on keeping on, like we all are.' There's no room in polite chitchat to throw in edgy honesty. No one needs more negativity, right? But now the need for daily perseverance in the face of all this, is less intense. For me, the book is done, and for the UK, pandemic restrictions are less stringent. We can taste freedom even if we don't utilise it. We might still fill the hours watching films, reading books, or enjoying global song contests from our sofas. We might still be uber-tentative when it comes to meeting up with others, or pressing BOOK NOW on a 2022 holiday, but it feels better. At least it does to me.
If things don't feel better for you, then fair play. As usual I'm only speaking for myself. I suppose if nothing else, I've passed on some recommendations for books, music, and films that might keep you going while you persevere a little longer. But that mofo paragraph above has sorted me out good and proper. May you find a rambling paragraph of your own. Or at least the content to fill one, over the coming weeks.
Have a lovely week, folks.
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