modern life is rubbish

A few weeks ago, I had the odd experience to live cut-off from modern life. Out with the phone, internet, all mod-cons, flat-ironed clothes and pretty shoes. All I knew when I got to this little village in Essex is that I would sleep on a boat and that's about it. What kind of boat I had no clue. It turned out that the boat I slept on was roofless and anchored in a marsh. There was no electricity and no bathroom. In place, fire lanterns lit our ginger wine fragrant evenings and basins were to be used. When I recovered from the shock of such a rudimentary life, I started enjoying my surroundings. More than I ever could imagine. Yes, the walk through the muddy marsh to our shelter was long and tedious, especially in the pitch dark night. But, one look towards the breath-taking starry sky was all it took to stop me from moaning. And the feel of the boat rocking when the tide came in beat any queen size bed of any fancy hotel. I dipped my hand in the water and millions of shiny dots scattered away, as if water was made of glitter. We tried to catch some but to no avail. It was like magic. They call it phosphorus. I tried to google it but found nothing. Did I dream? I really wonder now.

Days were spent walking around the beautiful Essex countryside. We were surrounded by those incredible brontë-esque moors and lord of the rings marshes. Views that look like oil paintings. More than by the landscapes, I was truly inspired by this boat community I lived with for a week, who decided to abandon modern life for a simpler one, prefering the rythm of the highs and lows of the tide to the meaningless ticks and tocks of the clock.