4 Followed | Follow Me Winter [11 Jan 2009|06:07am] I travelled south to Dorset last week, to negotiate with visiting associates of mine a number of key property acquisitions in the South West. Under the poorly constructed guise of friendly banter, in the unforgiving cold, our negotiations quickly became a test of endurance, as to who could stand the temperature long enough to earn for themselves a more favourable business arrangement. Much to my satisfaction, they relented within a few hours of the second evening, leaving me with the time and inclination to explore and reawaken my deep fascination for the area. I encountered few fellow wanderers, as most were not foolish enough to explore the landmarks at night, when the county itself seemed to shiver beneath the icy chill. Indeed, the weather was so extreme that I strolled along a stretch of coastline at Sandbanks only to observe that the sea had frozen over for a good twenty metres beyond the shore. And so it was in quiet solitude that I meandered through the pleasure gardens of Bournemouth and the graveyard at St Peter’s Church before venturing out further to the hill forts of Maiden Castle and Hod Hill. Finally I settled in Weymouth for a few nights of writing and contemplation. After much deliberation, I have concluded that, notwithstanding my resistance to hypothermia, a few weeks spent further South in Italy is preferable to having my feet frozen down to the ground here in Dorset. By rail, I hope over the course of the next few evenings to make my way to Liguria. In winter, many residents of the small coastal villages flock to the warmer cities, and I can think of no place I would rather be now than perched on one of those hillsides in Vernazza or Corniglia, overlooking the Ligurian Sea. At the risk of transforming this quiet, dusty old journal into something more than just a string of old memories, I hope to write again soon.

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