But those are the questions I posed myself after writing yesterday's blog about my possible writing styles.
To me there are four different character styles although I'm not sure that I know what I'm talking about here (you never do I hear you say).
There's extroverts and there's introverts and somewhere in the middle are extroverted introverts and introverted extroverts although I'm not sure I could really define the last two and what the difference is between them but I will have a go. Perhaps you will see something of yourself in what I write. I emphasise that these are my own definitions and not taken from any authorities on psychology or Enid Blyton for that matter (and I have no idea why I wrote that or why Enid crept into this blog but sometimes my writing is as much a stream of consciousness as anything else, but hey ho on we go).
Are there really true extroverts and true introverts? Probably not and then again possibly. To my mind nobody is extrovert or introvert all the time. Even the most outward person has their demons and even the quietest and most withdrawn person can come out of their shell when prompted by certain stimulus, ideas or subjects. I have written before that I always look out for the quiet person that doesn't push themselves forward. They often have hidden depths.
So that leaves those two other categories - an introverted extrovert and an extroverted introvert and I feel I must fall into one of them but which one is the question rather than to be or not to be.
I have always found that a strange question but then Shakespeare was a strange man writing about fairies and people with asses heads in a language he knew very few people would understand 500 years on.
My mother and grandmother always thought acting Shakespeare was the mark of a great actor.
"He's a Shakespearian actor," they would say as if that automatically made them really special
When I'm writing these blogs I really do need somebody close by keeping me on track otherwise they ramble all over the shop. Talking of which I grew up in a shop which will feature in my autobiography if I ever get round to editing it.
An extroverted introvert is somebody who is inwardly quiet and subdued but can have bursts of outward goingness (a new phrase for you). An introverted extroverts is somebody who appears noisy and outward going but has bursts of quietness and inactivity and that probably makes no sense at all. And I've probably got them the wrong way round anyway.
I am probably an extroverted introvert who likes to have a balance of outwardness and inwardness. I like to be with people but I also like to be quiet and on my own. I suppose that's a reasonable balance. Sometimes I feel silly, sometimes I feel serious. It might be the result of being an only one.
And above everything I want people to like me and I do care what they think although sometimes I pretend I don't.
The most powerful phrases I would like attributed to me are "he has no airs and graces" and "what you see is what you get."
I'm not in the habit of putting on a front to suit a situation. I hope that I'm always me and that there are no hidden corners.
I'm sorry this has been such a rambling blog but I know that some of my readers like this kind of thing and that's another of my traits. I'm always keen to please.
And talking of pleasure you will be glad to know that my travelogue is coming to an end. Here's the next bit.
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Well you've probably all had enough of the travelogue by now so I'm going to wrap up the last seven days in one blog so that I can move on to other things from tomorrow.
On our last day in the Porto area we decided to take a train ride along the Duoro valley to a small place called Rotua. There was bugger all there apart from a cafe and a bridge across the river. So we had coffee at one and walked across the other. The brighter ones amongst you will be able to work out what we did at these two places, but for those struggling we had coffee on the bridge and walked over the cafe or have I got that the wrong way round?
The following day it was back on the trains again once we had sorted out tickets which wasn't easy. You would think that a Euro Rail Pass would give you freedom of movement but not so. You still have to book tickets and pay extra for seat reservations.
We were almost thrown a curve ball as well by a conductor. We took the train from Porto to Vigo, where we had to change trains to get to Santiago de Compestella.
A train inspector came round to check tickets and reservations. When he checked ours he spoke in reasonably good English.
"You are going to Santiago. This train is going to Corunna and stop in Santiago."
"So we stay on this train?" We asked.
"Exactly. Train going to Corunna and stop in Santiago," he said.
"We stay on this train."
"Exactly."
But when we got to Vigo I got suspicious as nobody else stayed on it. In addition it was a Portuguese train which rather suggested it was going back into Portugal rather than further into Spain.
I ran down the platform and established that the train to Corunna was going from the next platform. So I hurriedly returned to the other threequarters who was beginning to panic being on an empty train with all our luggage and wondering what would happen if it took off back to Portugal with her on board.
So we transferred to the next train and about 10 minutes into our journey the cheery conductor came round to check tickets.
"Allo again, " he said. We said nothing. We were on the right train and that was all that mattered. Mind you he still checked our tickets and reservations.
Now I've decided to continue the travelogue for a few more days. Well a man can change his mind can't he and I still have to talk about Santiago, San Sebastian and our journey home.