European summers are usually a mix of endless days and a lot of sweat. Time seems to go by so slowly, and staying at home just feels weird. Friends scatter along the continent for weeks, and the few that stay at home become your picnic companions. All in all it feels like in one of those lethargic Garcia Marquez novels, where yellow, sandy towns seem to be frozen in time.
This summer, however, was simply too intense. Lots of new faces. Lots of new places. A new flat. A new neighborhood. Crete, Brussels, Rüggen, Bonn and Düsseldorf. And many visitors. Lots of beer. Lots of food. Lots of everything. Perhaps too much... though, is there really too much? My belly is 5 kilos heavier, so yes, there is too much...
I thought I would never say this, but yes, I am tired of the summer. I need a pause. I need to rest. But only for a bit. Cause hey, Istanbul is coming next week...
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