It’s been one of those months. Work has been full-on, life has been full-on, and in the middle of it all my partner handed me a book about perfectionism. I’m still not sure how to take that(!) but I started reading it and I can’t put it down. I knew I probably was a perfectionist, but I hadn’t realised just how much it shapes me. That discovery deserves a blog of its own, but this one is about something else: a weekend that gave me a break from it.
I went up to Newcastle to see my friend Martin. The trip had been in the diary for ages, but with one condition: he wouldn’t tell me what we were doing. Just “arrive Friday lunchtime, stay until Sunday lunchtime, and trust me.”
Martin is a bit of a loose cannon so of all the people to hand over control to, he’s probably the most challenging. But maybe that’s what made it fun.
The weekend started with the train journey. Normally I cut things fine, but this time I gave myself a bit of extra breathing space. I stopped for coffee, didn’t rush, and actually enjoyed the trip up. I love solo travelling – there’s something really nice about that time to read, think, and just people-watch. It turned out to be the calm before the storm of a full-on weekend!
The surprises started as soon as I stepped off the train. The first stop was a surprise even to Martin as we stumbled across a dahlia field (my favourite flower) having taken a detour to put air in his tyres! After that we went to a place he loves for a great little coffee (and sweet treat) and then on to his new home which I was looking forward to seeing as buying it had been a longtime coming following his divorce, and I was really happy to see him settled.
After the tour, we headed into his local town of Hexham for espresso martinis (my favourite cocktail) as he unveiled the main event… a trip to the theatre to see Inside No. 9. This turned out to be quite funny as he thought it was one of my favourite shows, when in fact I’d never even heard of it! If I had known in advance what we were seeing, I would have researched it (to death) and probably convinced him to take someone else which would have been such a shame as I loved it and we had a brilliant evening. We still don’t know which of his friends is the fan!
Saturday brought the big decision: did I want to stay local, explore Newcastle, or go for a random option? I picked random which, on reflection, was a very odd choice for me, bearing in mind who was in charge. We drove north, and more north and then more north until we arrived in Scotland where he’d hired a cottage. Let’s just say it wasn’t quite the idyllic bolthole… more like a budget horror film set, complete with only one bedroom for three of us. But we laughed about it, shrugged it off, and ended up at a beer festival. Not my natural habitat (I don’t even like beer), but I had a great time.
Sunday morning was calm and bright. We drove back in the sunshine, stopped at the border for photos, grabbed coffee and then went for brunch back in Hexham before I hopped on the train home feeling lighter than when I’d arrived.
The whole weekend was full of little curveballs, mishaps, and happy accidents. And I think that’s what made it so good. Because when you stop trying to plan or perfect everything, sometimes life just gets… interesting.
