Second attempt Day 1

In the Spanish village where we spend half our life there lives an old Japanese woman. Her name is Yoshi - I do not know if this is her real name,  or a nickname - perhaps even it is a shortened version of her real name,  but everybody in the village knows her well and calls her that. 

I have not seen her since the pandemic started, but I am told she is still doing well. The bar that she has owned for over 60 years has not been open for almost two years though, and now has a 'se vende' sign outside. Clearly she's calling it a day after all this time and selling up.

Yoshi is as fit as a fiddle, and well into her 80s now. She is still playing a round of golf everyday apparently. She told me once she had set sail from Japan as a teenager in the 1950s in a small yacht with her husband in search of adventure. They sailed from country to country over the course of many years until they arrived in the village where they went no further. They knew they had finally found the place they wanted to spend the rest of their lives. They sold the yacht and with the proceeds set up a bar in the village apty named The Port of Call. Outside the bar, above the entrance is an old sailing lantern, the same lantern that was used on their boat to cross the world. When the lantern is lit she is open for business, when it is not lit she is closed. Her husband died many years ago and Yoshi didn't want to work to a timetable, she opens when she feels like it, that's Yoshi's style.

Everybody admires Yoshi. She has achieved her goals in life the hard way. Starting with nothing but a 30 foot boat and the man she loved, she built a lovely life for herself in the village. She is the epitome of humbleness, politeness and elegance. She kept searching for her paradise and when she found it she made it a lifelong success.  Even when she lost her husband she kept going and going. 

Yoshi is also a very talented sculptor. Her bar is full of works of art made by her own hand, and modelled on herself as a teenager, at the point in time she left Japan with her husband. One night, many years ago, I bought one. I didn't recall that I had, until I turned over in bed with a terrible hangover and saw it lying on the floor the following morning. 

Yesterday morning I went up into the Sierra de las Nieves mountain range on my bike for three hours. The ride was very hard but I was surprised that I coped with it so well. I enjoyed it so much that I was determined to go again today. I left my helmet out on the sideboard yesterday, next to Yoshi's sculpture, ready for this morning. 

It's still there. 

I believe it's called falling off the wagon. I don't know what time I got home last night, but we had been out in the village with friends of ours from about 3.30pm. I started well on soft drinks and non-alcoholic beer, but at some point I must have faltered. By the time I was playing pool for money at around 9pm I was completely hammered.  I feel terrible, hungover and hugely disappointed with myself. Two weeks of effort pissed up the wall. It was a great night don't get me wrong - this village is home to an array of very interesting and unusual characters. I love catching up with them and talking to them, obviously too much. 

But as reality slammed into me this morning I've had to reset the timer. I'm back to day 1. All I can do is pick myself up and start again. In an attempt to take something out of this which is positive, I'm using the way I feel as a hard reminder to myself. Cycling is out today, hangovers are back, my choice is stark - I don't want the latter.

I said I would not carry on the blog once I had another drink, but after some thought I've decided to carry on. You get nothing in this world by giving up at the first sign of trouble. OK, so breaking the habit didn't happen on the first attempt, maybe I was too over optimistic thinking it would. I'm going to keep going and try to make this work. I fully understand if people do not read these blog posts anymore, but to be honest I need to keep writing them for my own sake. It will take time to get this right, but I'm damn well not caving in. I keep going until I find my destination.

The lantern is lit again.