So yesterday, picked up my partner in crime, Mal, and embarked on a journey that swung from delightful to deranged faster than you can say “existential crisis”.

Nah jokes, as we set off, the car was a cacophony of music, laughter, and spontaneous shouts at unsuspecting builders, because nothing says “we’re normal” like yelling at strangers while contemplating the meaning of life. It’s practically a rite of passage for any road trip, right? I mean, you gotta let the world know you’re alive

We rolled up into Arundel, where the quaintness felt like a front for something sinister lurking beneath. The streets were lined with charming shops that screamed conservative, and you just know there’s an overgrown garden gnome or two in the backyards.

We stopped for some food beforehand, stuffing our faces with sweets like it was a last meal before the apocalypse. Sour Patch Kids FTW. After all, who needs a balanced diet when you can have sweet sugary regrets? If they served guilt on a platter, I’d be ordering seconds.

Next on our agenda when we arrived, a marshmallow hot chocolate that could only be described as sipping on a sugar coated illusion. The cup was filled to the brim with a frothy concoction so sweet it should have come with a warning label.

Each sip was a like warm embrace, a stark contrast to the cold reality that life is nothing but a chaotic blend of sugar highs and emotional lows.

Here we were, cradling these cups like they were life rafts in a sea of disappointment, all while knowing that one day we’d just be floating aimlessly in the void just like the marshamallows.

But wait, the fun didn’t stop there at all, we decided to unleash our inner bird whisperers and early that day, grabbed a £2.99 pack of dried mealworms from old robby d’s, and fed the birds, because nothing says “enjoy nature” quite like watching our feathered boys smash themselves silly on little dried protein packs.

I could swear I saw a couple of swans side eyeing us as if to say, “Really? This is the best you could do?

After our mass interaction with the avian world, we took a 40-min stroll around the lake. The view was stunning, the sun glimmering on the water like hope, but, you know, the kind of hope that can easily drown in despair.

The picturesque scene was almost too good to be true, as if nature itself was trying to sell us a dream. We shared some laughs and pondered the absurdities of life while surrounded by this beauty.

Life is a weird mix of marshmallows and mealworms. You can have your sweet moments, but they’re always accompanied by the gritty reality of existence.

So grab your marshmallow hot chocolate, down at Arundel Cafe, feed some mealworms to your feathered friends, and remember, any moment can be softened with a touch of sweetness. And that’s the real magic of Arundel!

Aaron

Quit drink 23 July 2021 after a two-day bender and swapped bars for border crossings and 12-step meetings. Three sober years, 36 countries (13 travelled totally dry), fuelled by street food, jelly babies and a quick meditations (mostly panic meditations). Words in Mirror, Evening Standard, Metro, GQ, and MarketWatch.

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