Times and spaces

Another postcard from the land of grief

One of the features of travelling outside your own country is that you find yourself unable to read amounts – be they of money, distance or ingredients. The ‘small’ pack of a familiar ingredient in a foreign supermarket may be way too big, or the ‘large’ pack in another may be way too small. Distances can be deceptive too. Two towns which look adjacent on a map may be miles apart, or hours apart, depending upon the traffic conditions.

I am finding that I am unable to read this particular map. The distance between this task and the next one may appear to be very short, and yet it will take hours, or weeks. The distance from here to the borders of the land where I used to live is one which I cannot begin to calculate.

As ever when staying abroad, shopping can prove to be an interesting experience. Not having the right coin with me, I had to ask a member of staff to release a trolley for me. ‘Big or small?’ she asked. Momentarily thrown off balance, I reluctantly replied ‘small’. In fact, my judgement had been poor, and even the small trolley was too big. I shall have to learn how to shop here, I think.

 

 

 

 

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