We Were In Lov(e)ran

I own a multitude of black bras, but it's not like I don't own bras in any other colours and/or patterns. In fact, my all time favourite bra is pale blue, which is the rainy day to my constantly worn night.
Lately I keep reaching for black bras.
Maybe I am trying to construct a far reached metaphor about how humans usually pick the easier, comfortable, known options in life. But I'm probably just spewing words and making you imagine my bra drawer.

Anyway... Croatia was fantastic. I have an undying affinity to the sea. When we lived in England when I wasn't old enough to understand what the words like 'cider', 'snog' or 'synagog' meant, we used to spend what felt like almost every weekend there. Every time we moved back to Germany after having lived in England for a while again I put 'the sea' at the top of the list of things I missed most (closely followed by fish and chips and book shops and our garden).
That is one of the reasons why Croatia was fantastic. We were two minutes walk from the sea and it spread it's arms around us every morning, afternoon and night.
One of the other reasons why Croatia was fantastic was because I was with my best friend, and we spent many an hour chatting, many an hour cooking and many an hour just relaxing.

It was such a relief to be so completely taken away from the city, the constant hum and vibrations of social life and 'entertainment'; the constant feeling of having to do something or else risk feeling like you're losing something or missing something, something you can never understand or desire anyway.

By the end of my time there my legs (especially my left leg) were covered in bruises and scratches and cuts as a result of overenthusiastic rock climbing and diving, which is definitely a good thing.

I decided quite consciously that I would spend more time enjoying the scenery as opposed to constantly taking pictures of it. That proved a blessing and a shame.

I am going to end this by a) quoting Buddha, b) encouraging everyone to stick it out and c) a song which accompanied many a day on the beach in beautiful Lovran.

a)

In the end
these things matter most:
How well did you love?
How fully did you live?
How deeply did you let go?

(On that note I am half-way through Siddharta by Herman Hesse- every time I put it down, it leaves a more than pleasant, sobering after taste.)

b) 

Even if you can't see it, it's there.

c)