If contemporary British painter, Sarah Spencer, could promise me that brooding, moody weather, I’d book our next holiday afar to Morston in Norfolk. I love that seascape.
I spent two great years living in a bach at Banks Peninsula’s Birdlings Flat, (New Zealand), and its desolate loneliness was beautiful.
Kaikoura’s own hermit, Pete, says this about loneliness:
A lot of people ask me if I get lonely. But loneliness is just a feeling. It’s no big deal. For a lot of people, it’s as if loneliness is some sort of fearful creature, but it’s not. At the entrance [of temples in Thailand, there are] creatures that look incredibly demonic and fearful, but they’re just the guardians of the temple. And I think loneliness is a bit like that – one of the guardians that has to be encountered and then, gradually, it turns into a friend – an extraordinary friend. It doesn’t have to be escaped from.
Another word to nod your head toward from time to time is solitude.
We have half our Geraldine house in boxes and two-thirds of the office. On March 16 we head up to our new permanent digs, previously our holiday home, in the Mahau Sound, and we’ll find some welcome solitude for stretches at a time, some of it stretched around bottles of wine. Queens chain aside, we have our own beach, because we love beaches, oceans, seascapes, although our beach doesn’t look like this one in France painted by Pierre – safe to assume, a Frenchman – de Clausade, with that awesome, desolate, heavy weather again: