I’m walking like a robot. Please don’t ask me to look behind as this entails the swinging round of my entire upper body as one. The official diagnosis is repetitive strain injury to the large muscle covering my neck and shoulders. I’d like to say it was sustained swinging an axe to fell trees and gather armfuls of wood for the winter in Cyprus. In fact it was brought on by too much tennis and badminton. Don’t all sympathise at once.
Here’s the lovely woodpile – so satisfying to behold, even if you didn’t help a jot…
Yesterday I abandoned the rackets and headed out for an easy stroll along the coast in Paphos. The area is called sea caves and is where the joint efforts of water and wind have sculpted patterns, elaborate shapes and great, gaping holes in the limestone cliffs.
I found a fresh breeze, I found a diversion from my sore muscles and I found just-ripe bananas.
I was quite chuffed with my booty until I remembered that these tight bunches of fruit are a favourite hiding place for tarantulas.
I’m still in awe of a lady I met playing boules a couple of weeks ago. She was bemoaning her inability to hold her boule correctly due to a tarantula bite on her finger…sustained when she “picked it up to put it outside”
Incidentally – wearing a rucksack yesterday was not a good idea. Back to the robot walk