October 19th, 2008


It all started when I couldn't decide which way to turn my head - left or right. To my left the darkening blue sky reflected onto the waters. The lights of France in the distance and the haunting full moon hung over us. Its light refracted brightly on the surface of the water. I closed my eyes and listened to the crashing of the calm waves against the stony shore. It lulled me into another place, a dream like state. I could feel myself slipping away, away from reality. I opened my eyes and it was all still there. I turned my head to the right.

The sun had sunk low in the sky and out of sight, ducking down behind the Earth's horizon and into the night. The sky was aglow, flushed with deep orange that resonated across the cloudless surface. The silhouettes of the fishermen moved slowly, black figures in the distance, monsters in the dark as they hurled their rods to and fro. The glowing lights of the nuclear power station came alive as the night descended upon us. Inside, bright lights like embers threw out thick light like furnaces. Inside, equipment played tricks with our eyes as we imagined the shapes and silhouettes as people. The power station's gentle purring provided comfort; a grand state of irony given that it lie on a desolate beach. Staring into its shimmering windows it was like heating yourself by the open fire of urban decay.

It was then that I realised something was happening. Sat between his legs, his arms wrapped around me tightly, we had barely spoken for minutes, periodically kissing and looking out to the night's sky again. My stomach began to swim and felt so far removed from reality. This barren landscape - so empty and confusing, the crashing of the water and the humming of the power station. I began to forget everything, absorbing into my fantasy of existing elsewhere, anywhere but home. With his arms wrapped around me I nuzzled my head into his neck, closed my eyes and let the soundscapes be my guide. As the sun ducked further into obscurity the warm air became cooler and we decided to walk. Hand in hand we perused the landscape, stopping to look at the shacks people had made (and live in), the haunting figures in the distance - all the time with smiles on our faces.

We drove home through the night and stopped off in Rye for dinner. The wet, cobbled streets evoked a distinctive smell and we admired the quaint houses. Their doors were so huge that all I could think of were fairytales. We took a stroll down Mermaid Street, his arms around mine, the ground slippery below our feet. As we drove home after dinner we listened to Sigur Rós and Múm. I nestled my head onto his shoulder, looked up at the night sky and pearl white moon, thinking to myself what a perfect day it had been. With his arm around me, I drifted off, knowing that this was the beginning of something new...