When I began this blogging caper I told myself that I would eschew all shameless airing of my personal laundry in public and stick to the honest business of self-promotion.
But I can’t help it.
The giddying sense of a vast, anonymous audience hanging on my every word is too much for me…I have to share this:
I’m on a brief and longed-for holiday by the jeweled Adriatic – Montenegro, in fact; a destination I have fantasized about for years (NO, there are no sex dwarves here) and it is pouring with rain. The sky is black and the emerald rivers are spewing their litter-laden mud into the sea. I’m told this freakish and unprecedented precipitation will go on till the end of the week.
So what do I do? I go to a ‘cyber cafe’ with its upbeat Balkan mariachi and its towering waitresses (dressed in thigh boots and string vests), I log onto this blog and I pour my heart out.
Only a year ago I was deploring the unseemliness of blogging culture. How bizarre, I thought back then, to want to splatter your inner life all over the Internet, and how vainglorious to think that anyone would be interested.
Now look at me.
The Secret Life of France 
Is this a pre-launch training camp? Here I have to say it is absolutely beautiful. We took the cows up to the mountains yesterday for the estive. Quite a shock after 4 days in Amsterdam.
I think it proves what I’ve long understood to be true – that the web can and does deliver a sense of community that is often lacking from our day to day lives. Sure, cynics can say it’s illusory, but how else would I know that you’re having this experience?
Which, by the way, I can relate to all too well as that’s what happened when I returned to Ibiza last year after a gap of nearly a decade… reality collided a little brutally with my long cherished memories and dreams of sun-kissed beaches and dancing into the small hours. Heavy rain, a demanding daughter and the wrong hotel all poured cold water (literally) on all that.
Maybe a good time to get some thinking done? I hope so.