I love yurting because it prods and pokes my senses.
Smells; salt and sea; aromas from the stove in the confines of the caravan have real intensity; plants, wet from the rain are fresh.
Sounds; the wind swept rain brushes the caravan, water drips from the tarp. Kids laugh and yelp outside as they play in the rain, Maria and Johanna laugh and argue over a game they are playing on the iPad.
Touch: we went for a walk in the rain and wind this afternoon, our feet were cold, the showers wiped our faces.
Sight: I survey the homely comfort inside our van. Cloths strewn, dishes in the rack, left over Turkish chicken with egg beside my keyboard: red tomato sauce, green mint and coriander and white feta … goes together so well. Maria and Pos reclined together on the bed.
Taste; Being near the salty air kicks the taste buds up a gear I reckon. And those that read this blog know food is such an important part of our yurting day … the discussion about what to cook and what flavours suit the mood, weather and activity is such fun.
It’s a strange thing. You leave the comfort of home in the middle of winter, live in the outdoors, take the weather as it comes, cope with outside bathrooms, hang out with others doing the same.
… and when the senses are booted, you know you are alive.