muddy & musty

When I picked up T from the train station last week he got in the car and said : “It smells like mountain in here.” When I asked him what he meant by that he replied: “Something in between muddy and musty…”

Hmm, I must admit it is hard to keep as clean and well combed as in city life. When back in The Netherlands I am always amazed how clean everything and everybody is. You get easily used to the old, bit worn down, characteristic look of things and you forget how comfortable life is in Northern Europe.

Where in the city I take a bath often twice a day, go to the hairdresser, to the spa, buy new clothes very regularly, those things don’t apply here. In the morning you are happy your hair doesn’t need a wash, otherwise there is the ponytail solution. You put on the jeans that still look clean, some t- shirts and boots and you are ready to go into the woods.

‘Musty’ stayed in my mind and for the first time since I got here I’ve put on a dress and some low heeled ankle boots. I put on my fancy coat and even
some make-up. And when I was at the local library with the children I borrowed ‘Yves St Laurent’ the movie, just to help me get back in the game. I just watched the first part and so far it is beautiful, but I am mostly struck by all the very elegant, beautifully dressed people. Giving me the inspiration to get dressed and go to the hairdresser.

So here I am, having a noisette at the local cafe, filled with grey men talking and laughing in Catalan. I feel pretty and cosmopolitan. Until I look in the mirror and see that the woolen hat I was wearing ruined my hair and my nose is still red from the cold morning air. I look as if I just came down the ski slope – in the non sexy way…



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