As a child, our first meal of the holidays was a breakfast of bacon and eggs cooked over the fire by a river a few hours into our journey. A bit of rock hopping, a paddle perhaps or a wander and we’d bundle back in the car for the rest of the trip. It was such an adventure and is a very fond memory.
Pondering the idea now, it was a great way of switching from our busy schedules to life in the slow lane.
As an adult, with my own family, the ‘slow lane’ is not somewhere I spend a lot of time. Every now and then though I like to switch lanes with a change of scenery.
Each Christmas, we head off in our kombi hopping around the national park campsites. We have no particular destination in mind, just a northern or southern direction and a new beach every day. It’s definitely a move to the slow lane and life becomes so simple.
In my slow lane, I don’t need to eat fancy food, or to move through the day anticipating my next beverage or meal. In my slow lane it’s more about the location. The pleasure comes from watching the sun sparkle on the water over my bowl of muesli, having the kids stand dripping in their swimmers under a tree while they scoff a ham sandwich that has interrupted their surfing. Sitting under the moonlight sharing a bottle of red and a conversation with my husband after dinner.
It would be easier to take a break from food preparation altogether, but I’d rather take a break from the need to have fresh lemon squeezed on my salad and a reduction jus on my steak and spend the time making memories with my children enjoying life in the slow lane.
Foodie musings for The Follower newspaper
Pondering the idea now, it was a great way of switching from our busy schedules to life in the slow lane.
As an adult, with my own family, the ‘slow lane’ is not somewhere I spend a lot of time. Every now and then though I like to switch lanes with a change of scenery.
Each Christmas, we head off in our kombi hopping around the national park campsites. We have no particular destination in mind, just a northern or southern direction and a new beach every day. It’s definitely a move to the slow lane and life becomes so simple.
In my slow lane, I don’t need to eat fancy food, or to move through the day anticipating my next beverage or meal. In my slow lane it’s more about the location. The pleasure comes from watching the sun sparkle on the water over my bowl of muesli, having the kids stand dripping in their swimmers under a tree while they scoff a ham sandwich that has interrupted their surfing. Sitting under the moonlight sharing a bottle of red and a conversation with my husband after dinner.
It would be easier to take a break from food preparation altogether, but I’d rather take a break from the need to have fresh lemon squeezed on my salad and a reduction jus on my steak and spend the time making memories with my children enjoying life in the slow lane.
Foodie musings for The Follower newspaper
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