When Gord and I travelled to Wangaratta in early May our first night stopover was at Charlton where I had booked an overnight van in the caravan park. We were late arriving, well after dark, and the park operators had told us by phone they'd left out a key as they had to go to a function and would not be there. Everything in Charlton had closed down when we got there so all we had for dinner was a muesli bar each Gord had brought, and courtesy tea/ coffee and biscuits in the van.
Next morning, hungry, I went for a walk early to the bakery in the main street where I indulged a hot meat pie and coffee. On the way back to the park I passed a book swap stand. I had nothing to exchange but I didn't think anyone would mind if I took an old looking well worn paperback, as I'd left McCracken without the book I was reading, James Michener's Iberia. The book I picked out was The Story of San Michele, by Axel Munthe. I chose it because on the first page, blank otherwise except for the title at the top, was written by hand, "To the driver, from the passenger, I'll never forget twelve marvellous days from Venice to Rome." That was enough to excite my curiosity.
I came back to McCracken without having started reading the book other than a cursory look at the introduction one night before falling asleep. I put the book aside and continued Iberia for about the next month till I finished it. I read it slowly and attentively, absorbing the atmosphere of Spain and it's culture and geography. A long book of 900 pages of small print, I finished it with satisfaction that my knowledge of the world and history had greatly improved, and so glad I had read it.
Our new neighbour Helen, hearing in conversation of my birthday not long after we moved in, had kindly given me a present, a book titled Jennifer Government by Melbourne author Max Barry. I felt it should be next cab of the rank. It was easy reading, full of action in short chapters with an intriguing plot based around several main characters in a futuristic society largely run by private corporations that usurped power from government and threatened total dominance. Interesting, entertaining, enjoyable, and a complete contrast to Iberia.
Finishing that I picked up The Story of San Michele. I laboured through 2 prefaces and an introduction wondering where on earth it was going before the storyline in earnest began to unfold as a self told lifestory (I chose those words rather than an autobiography because of the style). Along the way now three parts through I'm finding it quite brilliant with some really profound views on life that seem relevant today despite being written about 100 years ago. So much so that I want to copy a paragraph I read today, here on this blog for my friends to read. I have probably expressed similar sentiment to them privately in the past, albeit less eloquently.
"The gods sell all things at a fair price, said an old poet. He might have added that they sell their best goods at the cheapest rate. All that is really useful to us can be bought for little money, it is only the superfluous that is put up for sale at a high price. All that is really beautiful is not put up for sale at all but is given to us as a gift by the immortal gods. We are allowed to watch the sun rise and set, the clouds sailing along in the sky, the forests and the fields, the glorious sea, all without spending a penny. The birds sing to us for nothing, the wildflowers we may pick as we walk along the roadside. There is no entrance fee to the starlit hall of the Night. The poor man sleeps better than the rich man. Simple food tastes better in the long run than food from the Ritz. Contentment and peace of mind thrive better in a small country cottage than a stately palace in a town. A few friends, a few books, indeed a very few, and a dog is all you need to have about you as long as you have yourself. But you should live in the country. The first town was planned by the Devil, that is why God wanted to destroy the tower of Babel."
Suffice to say I'm enjoying retirement.
