It would not have looked so good in the rain (Travel writing)

It would not have looked so good in the rain.

Travelling back to your childhood territory is like reminding yourself of all that’s lost. You’re on a drip of sentimentality, a replacement fix.

In the airport I keep having to slow down as I weave my way through the masses of morning travellers that pass around the huge building of some sort covered in flapping polystyrene like the membrane of a cell. Little black flies of helmeted workmen are scrawled around on the building. Some real, others printed on the polystyrene holding drills, paintbrushes or climbing ladders, blending in with the real work force transforming the building. It’s a modern Guernica – a hell case of twisted workmen. Changes are everywhere! Even the fire exit signs have changed – I’m an alien from Mars in Lurpak land! In the loo I have to scratch the last paper off the loo roll and jump to avoid the automatic flush whilst a cartoon Kalashnikov is pointed at me with the writing “Hands up! Give piece a chance.” I’m instantly annoyed by the spelling mistake, for fuck’s sake – if you have a message – get it right! I turn the tap, wash hands and apply my new cheapo Colour Elixir Lipstick by Max Factor bought in a rush in Debenhams– the sharp edge of it bites into my narrow lips. From old hawk to young sparrow in one lipstick lick – I think not! As I exit, I notice a slim young woman with a small black suitcase on rollers holding “We Need to Talk about Kevin” – author dreams appear and disappear in a split second. The woman is leaning against the cold white tiles resting one foot on her suitcase talking down her mobile phone as a slow smile crosses her face: ”4 hours and 45 minutes and I didn’t stop! Hmm! It was nice to see you too.” Me – 30 years ago – full of springs and coils, relaxed and still ready to go – and always, always clutching a book! As the taxi in the airport pulls up next to me, I quickly throw the bag in – the taxi driver stays in his seat and barely looks up at me, he’s absently humming along to “blackbird sitting in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn to fly.”

As we later speed past a decrepit facade of a brick building outlined as a pagoda with singed gold and red letters spelling “Bahn Thai” – I’m reminded of my permanent home from home – my split self. Further out in the countryside I shout for the driver to slow down as we pass several houses for sale near my old stomping grounds. There’re no people around, only swallows punctuating the telephone wires. They are back! I thought the farmers in their chemical feast for more had got rid of them, but there they are, just like when I was a kid. Memories of our flickering black and white telly with my dad transfixed in front of a black clad Jens Otto Krag who’s speaking in crisp Danish; the chronic conversations at night with my mum ”But I’m not tired!” ”I don’t care, it’s late and there’ll only be 5 minutes of reading, and I’m reading for you tonight. So go to bed now!”; Kellogg’s cornflakes forever for breakfast; summers of saturated sunlight – forever summer too – but hey I get it, the imprinted memory of childhood would not have looked so good in the rain. Pis! I forgot to stop and shop the few things my dad had asked for. I pull the list out of the bag: spring onions, one red onion, Piper potatoes… 30 years since I was here last, and I’ve forgotten something – forgotten his little shopping request…poor poor poor. I look out again and simply don’t recognize anything – I’m lost in transit! ”When are we there?”

List:

2 overheard conversations:

1st conversation: ”4 hours and 45 minutes and I didn’t stop! It was nice to see you too.” (Snippet overheard from phone conversation.

2nd conversation: ”But I’m not tired!” ”I don’t care, it’s late and there’ll only be 5 minutes of reading, and I’m reading for you tonight. ”

3 species of birds: blackbird, sparrow and swallow

2 brand names for food: Kellogs, Lurpak

Text from 6 signs:

”For Sale”

”Fire exit”

”Slow Down”

”Debenhams”

”Bahn Thai”

The name of a planet or a star: Mars

The name of a lipstick: Colour Elixir Lipstick by Max Factor

1 time of day: Morning

The title of a book of fiction: We need to talk about Kevin

The title of a painting: Guernica

The name of a dead politician: Jens Otto Krag

2 types of onion and 1 type of potato: spring onion, red onion, Piper potatoes

3 items from a hardware store: tap, paint, drill

A make of gun: Kalashnikov

Something a child might say: When are we there?

Newspaper phrase:

It would not have looked so good in the rain.