I’ve been home for just over 1 week and I can honestly say that I can’t wait until my next adventure. In fact, I may or may not be dreaming about the moment that I board the series of glorified lawn darts that will take me from here to Malawi.
I’m about to board the glorified lawn dart that will take me from Barcelona to Dublin so that I can board a bigger, more powerful glorified lawn dart to take me from there to Toronto. Boo.
The last several days have been a lesson in contrasts. I’ve spent much of my time enjoying a small slice of paradise overlooking the Mediterranean in Xàbia, Spain. I’ve shared numerous delicious meals with my friends. We’ve laughed and goofed off around the pool. We’ve watched as the sun has set and the stars revealed themselves…
After an epic start to the summer semester, I’m faced with the sad reality that in a few days I will board an oversized shiny metal lawn dart on my long journey back to Toronto. Fortunately, the summer is only truly just beginning.
I’m currently sitting with a freshly brewed coffee listening to the Buena Vista Social Club soundtrack while looking out over the town of Xàbia, Spain and the Mediterranean Sea from our fantastic home-away-from-home on the hill.
A few days ago I began the tale of our grand adventure in Scotland, also known as the Land Where Scotch Grows. However, after yesterday’s visit to the beaches of Normandy I wanted to write that post while the experience was still fresh in my memory.
After a breakfast baguette or two, and a very rich and delicious Double Express À Emporter, we loaded up the car and began our trek to visit the beaches of Normandy.
After a mostly uneventful flight – save for the screaming night terrors – I safely arrived in Glasgow, Scotland via Dublin, Ireland some time on Sunday morning.
When last I wrote I was sitting in Terminal 3 of Pearson Airport in Toronto, waiting to board a metal lawn dart that would be shot through the air and magically arrive in Dublin on my way to Glasgow, Scotland. For the most part, the flight from Toronto to Dublin was completely uneventful save for…
Once again I’m sitting at Pearson airport’s Terminal 3 waiting to board a glorified metal lawn dart that will, via some sort of wizardry, bring me from Toronto to a far away land.