Breakfasting on a balcony overlooking the sea always makes me happy. And I always suggest to my writer wife that we should come to places like this to work. Fresh air and sunshine and the sound of waves are so inspirational, but I suspect if I was here to work I would spend most of my day drinking cappucinos, before moving on to cocktails. But it works for lots of writers and I'd much rather fail to get anything done on the Amalfi Coast than in Shepherd's Bush. The expense of staying in a hotel might spur me on to work. Who knows?
A morning's work could be followed by an afternoon's fun and even when the muse didn't strike it would be cool to be looking out over the Mediterranean.
I have a few ideas spinning round in my head and found out today that I've been commissioned to write another TV script (as usual no guarantees that it will ever make it to screen, but good to have some paid work to return to along with all the stuff I am planning that is likely to lose me money), but I don't think I will be trying out my theory by spending too much of my day working. Writing a blog is enough (and probably more that I shouldl be doing). But as I have been writing this one the sun has set behind the hills and a pleasure cruiser that's been anchored in the bay all day has just steamed away. So that's been fun to watch.
We had a little wander around Maiori before and after lunch, though at a leisurely pace that took in stops for coffee and pizza and beer. All the churches seemed to be closed this afternoon and the whole town sensibly seems to go to sleep at about 3. We had already walked along the beach front and been up some steep steps to a church and visited a Tourist Information office staffed by a young woman who I think we might have been the first every customers for, judging by how surprised she was to see us. We were climbing further up the hill to see some other churches, but the heat defeated us and we accepted defeat and joined the town in a siesta.
And relaxing is the order of the day, especially for these early stages of the holiday. I feel like I could happily sit and look at this exact view for the next fortnight and I want to rest and read and eat nice food and drink nice booze. We slightly failed with the last two on our random choice of restaurant tonight. It was run by some affable old men and it was by no means the rip-off that a seaside touristy restaurant can be. We plumped for a bottle of white wine described only as "locale" but at 8 euros it might qualify as the cheapest wine I have drunk at a restaurant in twenty years. It was pretty rough. A wedding party went by, the guests on a little road train that ran on some kind of strong smelling diesel (which helped improve the wine a little) and the bride and groom walking. The town feels jolly and friendly and, this particular restaraunt aside (all the other patrons were from English speaking nations - the other places we've been to have had a fair share of locals), not all that touristy.
I have been finishing off books that I had started already on my kindle, including Peter Akroyd's "The Tudors" and Russell Brand's 2nd Booky-wook. There are certain similarities between medieval monarchy and modern day celebrity, although Russell doesn't dispose of his enemies in quite so brutal a manner. He does leave a lot of people sacked or in trouble in his wake though. I am amazed that anyone would covet power in the 1500s given how many of those that got it ended their lives in horrific deaths, but the quest for fame and power mean that you have to take such risks. If Brand had been an aristocrat he would have been one of those that managed to negotiate the changes of monarch and religion whilst still holding on to his place and rarely being imprisoned. He'd be William Cecil. I suspect I am the first to draw that anaolgy. Though in reality in those times he'd be more of a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Stuart,_Lord_Darnley">Lord Darnley (check out the pic - he even looks a bit like him)</a>. Behaving like Russell Brand in the 16th Century could only end badly. Maybe in the 21st Century too, but I hope not. I like him a lot in spite of and because of himself.
This is why you should only read one book at a time.
This week's Metro article was well-received, providing the double-whammy of attack on public impoliteness couples with rude euphemisms. I had knocked it together in the hour or so after my last WAGTD performance, with some polishing done on the last morning in Edinburgh and so some of it was a surprise to me. But I seem to have created a satisfying new synonym for urine in "kidney cola", which I was drawn to when searching for alliteration, but which according to a quick google search does not seem to have been used before. It is rather evocative of the dark and fizzing wee that you seem to encounter in such circumstances. I was just glad that the whole column hadn't turned out to be the phrase "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" typed out a thousand times - though 60 times would be all I would need for my word count to be fulfilled. I wonder if I could try that one time.
And with Edinburgh already fading into a distant memory, it was gratifying to see the work of Steve Brown and Stephen Newman acknowledged as Time Out picked our poster as one of the best of the Fringe. Shit, maybe I should have done the lamp post ads after all! (it did go up around the Pleasance, I just eschewed the sites that I had to pay £300 a go for).