Lately I’ve been taking regular holidays, and it’s caused fatigue. They involved exercise, but I don’t think that’s at the heart of my weariness. It’s the preparing for them, especially the night before and the aftermath: packing and unpacking.

I know I’m lucky to have the opportunities; tempered because this new
freedom came as a result of a huge loss. One I’m still coming to terms with. Guilt
is also a drain on my energy. Should I be taking these trips?

I think it started to build in March. The month was bookended with a trip to Southern Spain and then one to Cornwall. Both included train journeys. The Iberian break taking two days each way. Link1. Link2. Link3.

May began with a visit to my brother in Warrington. Link.

Then in June was my first cycling adventure. Link.

July had the Dunwich Dynamo ahead of a week in East Anglia. Link1. Link2.

In August I visited my cousin near Winchester. A week later it was off to the Isle of Wight via Stonehenge. Link1. Link2.

On Thursday I packed my bag, always wondering what might have forgotten. You’d think it would be easy by now.

I was both looking forward to getting away again, and relieved it would be the last time this year.

I traveled to Leyton Buzzard to visit a friend. Having
ridden to the office on Friday and then continuing north out of London
after work.

We cycled to St Albans for lunch on Saturday. A leisurley meander along winding lanes. Including a stroll around the city to find what turned out to be a great place for food. 

Tikka Nation (1 Waxhouse Gate, St Albans AL3 4EH).

And what does this mean for 2025? I have started to plan what I want to do.

Cost will be an issue, hence the test of Youth Hosteling this year. So maybe keeping it to UK destinations will be the way to go. 

How should I feel about having so much fun? I still have trouble with this. I know I shouldn’t wallow at home. And I’m sure no-one will think badly of me, but that won’t stop me surmising they might.