When its foggy and damp outside it’s difficult packing for India – almost impossible to imagine the heat and dust of it. But pack I must or at least I feel I must make a good start. Here’s my pile (well some of it). My customised notebook is on top, my hand gel, mini torch, my knickers in wonderfully vivid, bordering on neon colours, which are so not my scene but hey India beckons (got them in Sainsbury’s if you’re looking for dayglo underwear), my sarong, water purifying tablets just in case, all are there.
My documents and toiletries are already inside my case and my small rucksack. I’m getting there. For one thing I know what clothes I’m taking, well at least I think I do. I’m feeling the mixture of excitement and apprehension that such a journey inevitably brings. Next, reading matter, which I’m downloading onto my Kindle – not sure what yet but I have A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth and that is a big book (or so I’m told, hard to tell on Kindle).
While all this is happening I’ve been thinking of the Languedoc, I suppose because I’m often packing to go there and as it happens I’m using the same case. The lovely food writer, food tester and brilliant cook, Lickedspoon, is out there now – with the lovely Sean, lucky them. If you want a taste of sunshine and market food, of pumpkins and quinces, of shoes that match vegetables, of the beautiful Etang du Thau in the evening light, then read her here. She’s a delight.
