Arrival - Part 2

I used to think that on arriving, there were certain things that one must do to adjust, to settle into the new space – acclimatize – like a goldfish in a plastic bag inside the new tank, staring through it’s plastic protective layer and immersed in familiar water until that moment of opening, where tentative and then in a flurry of flicking wet fish swim, it launches into the wider space, and it’s familiar surrounds bleeds out and mixes with the new space, creating something new, the new subtly altered by the old. For me, those things are fairly obvious ones – eat, shit, unpack, be naked, bathe, sleep, walk through the streets unaccompanied. Once I’ve done those things I feel much more part of a place, more settled. Mess up the hotel bedroom. Put stuff on that spotless sink. Maybe send a postcard or two (dog pissing on pole, transcontinentally). Now I add ‘write about it’ to the list.