I could probably write an entire blog just on the random things that go on at work and the random people I meet. Here's an example.
Last night I was serving a party of 7. It was a 23rd birthday, family dinner. Near the end of their evening I overheard two adults talking about something "that bites". The youngest at the table was probably about 8, and very authoritatively he explained that -whatever it was- "hasn't bitten anyone in 7 years!!!" A little skeptical, the adults asked him how he knew such facts and the boy explained that he heard it on the news. Curious, the adults asked the boy which news station he got his facts from. Very proudly and with wisdom beyond his years he replied, "Dr. Oz" (DUH!).
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Nice People
Before we left Hong Kong, a well traveled friend explained to me that the kindness of the locals we met while traveling is different than the infamous kindness of Canadians. She says that the kindness you encounter in Asia is largely due to the fact that everyone is selling something. Whether it's street food, trinkets, advertising for their restaurant or some sort of tour, just about everyone in Asia is nice to you because they want something from you. Canadians will apparently be nice to you for no reason whatsoever.
Today I was in line at the grocery store. Standing in line at the "less than 12 items" check out, an old man took his place behind me. Not a minute had gone by before he started chatting me up, telling me about the convenience of tv dinners, which he only eats when he doesn't feel like cooking... which isn't often because he loves to cook. He's never cooked a roast before because it's just him and a roast is a lot of food for one person, but the next time there's a sale he's going to buy a roast and then portion and freeze the leftovers for sandwiches. He'll keep the frozen meet, along with his tv dinners in the freezer under the stairs... He's made friends with some of the women working at Superstore, because he's a regular shopper and sometimes they stop him to say hello because they recognize him because he's a regular shopper.... It's such a beautiful day today....
He continued this type of kind and random banter with myself, everyone else in line, and the lady working the till... for no apparent reason but to be friendly and kind.
Today I was in line at the grocery store. Standing in line at the "less than 12 items" check out, an old man took his place behind me. Not a minute had gone by before he started chatting me up, telling me about the convenience of tv dinners, which he only eats when he doesn't feel like cooking... which isn't often because he loves to cook. He's never cooked a roast before because it's just him and a roast is a lot of food for one person, but the next time there's a sale he's going to buy a roast and then portion and freeze the leftovers for sandwiches. He'll keep the frozen meet, along with his tv dinners in the freezer under the stairs... He's made friends with some of the women working at Superstore, because he's a regular shopper and sometimes they stop him to say hello because they recognize him because he's a regular shopper.... It's such a beautiful day today....
He continued this type of kind and random banter with myself, everyone else in line, and the lady working the till... for no apparent reason but to be friendly and kind.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
The Final Moments
It's that time. The time that we have been both looking forward to and dreading. It is time to go home. Our bags are packed and waiting in the corner, and tomorrow morning, we will take one more taxi, one more ride on the MTR, and we'll check in for one more flight (okay, so we'll have to transfer and check-in in Beijing as well, but you get the picture).
Everyone we know (including ourselves) says that traveling changes your life. Darren says (from his experience in Europe) that there comes a moment right before you get home, where you reflect on everything you've done and contemplate all that you've learned and how you've changed. He also says that I haven't had this moment yet because I've been too busy prematurely thinking about wedding stuff (which is true of course). However, as these last days have approached I've thought about a lot of things. I've thought about the wedding of course, about my favourite experiences, about surviving Darren for six months, and a whole slew of other things.
For example:
I've learned that you can pretty much fit anything on a motorcycle. You've got household furniture that needs to be transported? No problem, strap it to a bike. What about a few oil drums? Done! You've got a couple full grown, live pigs that need to get across the city? Easy! Maybe you're thinking the motorcycle isn't a practical family vehicle. Well, you'd be wrong. You can easily fit mom, dad, auntie, and two or three kids onto a bike, no problem. Whatever you can think of, we've probably seen it being transported through dense traffic in the middle of a busy city, on a motorbike. Those things are amazing.
I've learned that you can use the squat for anything. Number one and number two, well those are obvious. But what if you need to stop and have a long cell phone conversation? Just pop a squat. What about enjoying a midday meal in the rice fields? Squat. What about enjoying an afternoon meal while completely nude? SQUAT! You never need to worry about chairs ever again.
Through our many food adventures, I've learned, as I've mentioned before, that you can get Indian food just about anywhere. I've also learned that I don't look good with love handles.
I've learned that being half Asian is just about the most beneficial thing when traveling in this country. People were constantly confusing us for one of their own. Everywhere we went it was "are you Vietnemese/Thai/Laos/Chinese?" They weren't always sure, but the suspicion was always prevalent. They never know what language to address you in, unless you walked in speaking English, and even then sometimes they'd offer to help you in their native tongue. It's come in handy, especially when we have been able to speak a few words in the local language. Initial asking prices always seemed to be lower for us, or if they weren't, they seemed more inclined to give us a better discount. People on the street have generally been more polite and willing to help us with directions or whatever it is we've needed. I've always felt that when I'm home (in Canada) I'm Filippino and when I'm abroad I'm Canadian. That's still true, but here I get to be both. There's something to be said about always feeling welcome and embraced wherever you are. Sometimes, I suppose locals feel adverse to the invasion of their lives and culture by westerners, especially when some westerners can be very ignorant of local customs and etiquette; but, Darren and I almost always experienced nothing but a warm welcome.
I've also learned, despite the many beauties and pleasantries of all the countries we've visited, that BC is still my home. There are some things I'm going to miss about Asia and traveling, like the incredibly low cost of living, the amazing food, the amazing people, the diversity of life, the carefree living of a traveler, and perpetual tan; but, there are things I wont miss, like the smell of fermented tofu, the spitting and loud talking, having to constantly take a bus or a plane, the complete lack of spacial awareness ("spasian awareness"), wearing clothes that are always wrinkled, and never really having a place to call your own. Some people travel, and they say they never want to go home which I can certainly appreciate, but for me BC is where I belong.
Asia has also helped us appreciate something I think we can never appreciate enough. The sense of community and the importance of the family in Asian culture is far beyond the ideas of the family unit in any other society I've experienced. You don't just hang out with the kid next door around here, you hang out with the entire village. Children run up and down the streets at all hours playing and looking out for one another. The woman down the street is as much a parental figure to a little girl as her own mother. We've met people who are reluctant to embrace the potential for a better life with more opportunities because they're not willing to leave their family. The importance placed on family here really made us miss our own. Darren and I have each other, we are each other's family, and I think that makes traveling for long periods of time easier. Being together, we never feel lonely. We are also fortunate enough to have family and close friends scattered across the globe. Whether it's Hong Kong or Singapore, there are little bits of family abroad to make us feel comfortable and loved. However, we also miss the rest of our family. Eating with just the two of us isn't the same. We've been fortunate enough to live in a time when technology allows us to share our experience with the people we love from so far away, but there were times when it just wasn't enough. Times when you'd say, "This-person would love this!" or "I wish This-person could see this". At the end of the day however, what the Asian family has really taught us, is that no matter how little money or material possessions you have, no matter how hard life can be, a family to share it with makes it all bearable. The richest smiles I've seen were always on the poorest people surrounded by the ones they loved.
We've changed, Darren and I. I know that the people who step onto that plane tomorrow are not the same people who made that same trip 6 months ago. We're bigger people now, literally (our clothes are fitting a little snug and I have real love handles for the first time in my life) but, most of the changes are for the better. We've learned a little more about each other, about ourselves and have grown together, and our views of certain things in this world have changed. I sort of had this naive and egotistical notion when I left that after six months I'd just pick up from where I left off. The first thing that really made me realize that life was still going on back home, despite my absence, was the realization that it would be winter when we returned, as if spring and summer were just going to wait for me to come home. But the world back home has kept going while we've been away, and our lives and our world are going to continue to change once we get home. Our family has changed and the true realization of that fact wont really hit us until we're there to experience it. We're going to have to find a new place to call home and are taking on a room-mate. I'm going back to school in January. We're going to "start" planning a wedding, our wedding. I guess my point comes back to what I first started talking about, that "moment".
I suppose I feel like I haven't had that single moment of reflection yet, because it's not just one particular moment. It may sound cheesy but yes, I feel like life is an adventure. This particular trip is ending but it's not really over. I feel like I'm constantly thinking about what we've done, but also what we're going to do. There are still stories to share and relive, new modes of thought to implement to our lifestyle, and people we've met to keep in touch with. But the first thing I'm going to do when I get home, is take a breathe of fresh hair, and feel the warm loving embrace of family.
Everyone we know (including ourselves) says that traveling changes your life. Darren says (from his experience in Europe) that there comes a moment right before you get home, where you reflect on everything you've done and contemplate all that you've learned and how you've changed. He also says that I haven't had this moment yet because I've been too busy prematurely thinking about wedding stuff (which is true of course). However, as these last days have approached I've thought about a lot of things. I've thought about the wedding of course, about my favourite experiences, about surviving Darren for six months, and a whole slew of other things.
For example:
I've learned that you can pretty much fit anything on a motorcycle. You've got household furniture that needs to be transported? No problem, strap it to a bike. What about a few oil drums? Done! You've got a couple full grown, live pigs that need to get across the city? Easy! Maybe you're thinking the motorcycle isn't a practical family vehicle. Well, you'd be wrong. You can easily fit mom, dad, auntie, and two or three kids onto a bike, no problem. Whatever you can think of, we've probably seen it being transported through dense traffic in the middle of a busy city, on a motorbike. Those things are amazing.
I've learned that you can use the squat for anything. Number one and number two, well those are obvious. But what if you need to stop and have a long cell phone conversation? Just pop a squat. What about enjoying a midday meal in the rice fields? Squat. What about enjoying an afternoon meal while completely nude? SQUAT! You never need to worry about chairs ever again.
Through our many food adventures, I've learned, as I've mentioned before, that you can get Indian food just about anywhere. I've also learned that I don't look good with love handles.
I've learned that being half Asian is just about the most beneficial thing when traveling in this country. People were constantly confusing us for one of their own. Everywhere we went it was "are you Vietnemese/Thai/Laos/Chinese?" They weren't always sure, but the suspicion was always prevalent. They never know what language to address you in, unless you walked in speaking English, and even then sometimes they'd offer to help you in their native tongue. It's come in handy, especially when we have been able to speak a few words in the local language. Initial asking prices always seemed to be lower for us, or if they weren't, they seemed more inclined to give us a better discount. People on the street have generally been more polite and willing to help us with directions or whatever it is we've needed. I've always felt that when I'm home (in Canada) I'm Filippino and when I'm abroad I'm Canadian. That's still true, but here I get to be both. There's something to be said about always feeling welcome and embraced wherever you are. Sometimes, I suppose locals feel adverse to the invasion of their lives and culture by westerners, especially when some westerners can be very ignorant of local customs and etiquette; but, Darren and I almost always experienced nothing but a warm welcome.
I've also learned, despite the many beauties and pleasantries of all the countries we've visited, that BC is still my home. There are some things I'm going to miss about Asia and traveling, like the incredibly low cost of living, the amazing food, the amazing people, the diversity of life, the carefree living of a traveler, and perpetual tan; but, there are things I wont miss, like the smell of fermented tofu, the spitting and loud talking, having to constantly take a bus or a plane, the complete lack of spacial awareness ("spasian awareness"), wearing clothes that are always wrinkled, and never really having a place to call your own. Some people travel, and they say they never want to go home which I can certainly appreciate, but for me BC is where I belong.
Asia has also helped us appreciate something I think we can never appreciate enough. The sense of community and the importance of the family in Asian culture is far beyond the ideas of the family unit in any other society I've experienced. You don't just hang out with the kid next door around here, you hang out with the entire village. Children run up and down the streets at all hours playing and looking out for one another. The woman down the street is as much a parental figure to a little girl as her own mother. We've met people who are reluctant to embrace the potential for a better life with more opportunities because they're not willing to leave their family. The importance placed on family here really made us miss our own. Darren and I have each other, we are each other's family, and I think that makes traveling for long periods of time easier. Being together, we never feel lonely. We are also fortunate enough to have family and close friends scattered across the globe. Whether it's Hong Kong or Singapore, there are little bits of family abroad to make us feel comfortable and loved. However, we also miss the rest of our family. Eating with just the two of us isn't the same. We've been fortunate enough to live in a time when technology allows us to share our experience with the people we love from so far away, but there were times when it just wasn't enough. Times when you'd say, "This-person would love this!" or "I wish This-person could see this". At the end of the day however, what the Asian family has really taught us, is that no matter how little money or material possessions you have, no matter how hard life can be, a family to share it with makes it all bearable. The richest smiles I've seen were always on the poorest people surrounded by the ones they loved.
We've changed, Darren and I. I know that the people who step onto that plane tomorrow are not the same people who made that same trip 6 months ago. We're bigger people now, literally (our clothes are fitting a little snug and I have real love handles for the first time in my life) but, most of the changes are for the better. We've learned a little more about each other, about ourselves and have grown together, and our views of certain things in this world have changed. I sort of had this naive and egotistical notion when I left that after six months I'd just pick up from where I left off. The first thing that really made me realize that life was still going on back home, despite my absence, was the realization that it would be winter when we returned, as if spring and summer were just going to wait for me to come home. But the world back home has kept going while we've been away, and our lives and our world are going to continue to change once we get home. Our family has changed and the true realization of that fact wont really hit us until we're there to experience it. We're going to have to find a new place to call home and are taking on a room-mate. I'm going back to school in January. We're going to "start" planning a wedding, our wedding. I guess my point comes back to what I first started talking about, that "moment".
I suppose I feel like I haven't had that single moment of reflection yet, because it's not just one particular moment. It may sound cheesy but yes, I feel like life is an adventure. This particular trip is ending but it's not really over. I feel like I'm constantly thinking about what we've done, but also what we're going to do. There are still stories to share and relive, new modes of thought to implement to our lifestyle, and people we've met to keep in touch with. But the first thing I'm going to do when I get home, is take a breathe of fresh hair, and feel the warm loving embrace of family.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
HCMC
HCMC. Holy Congested Motorcycle Chaos! Yes. Ho Chi Mihn City, also known as Saigon, and home to the most motorcycles I've ever seen. I thought Hanoi was bad, but I realized it's just because the streets in the Old Quarter are so narrow. The streets here in Saigon are as wide as any others I've seen and still they're crowded. It's okay though, because during rush hour when the roads look more like a swarm of buzzing bees with helmets, they just use the sidewalk. Darren and I went on the Lonely Planet walking tour and we finished up right around rush hour. We figured walking would be faster than taking a taxi because the traffic was so heavy, but then a piece of that traffic was honking behind me, and another piece was rushing past me. You're not safe anywhere!
We made it out alive however and managed to see quite a bit. The walking tour includes a lot of Saigon's various historical sights and museums. We didn't get the earliest start and we didn't make it to all of them but the city definitely does have a lot to offer. The most memorable for us, which I think is the same for most people, was the War Remnants Museum. It's more of a photo gallery than a museum but I found that that made it that much more moving. The exhibition on the ground floor, put together by Tim Page (as I understood from the guidebook) is incredible. Not to say that the rest of the exhibit isn't incredible, but that first floor really shook me. I took a photograph of the first photograph that struck me (in the Picassa album), but the rest were so horrific I couldn't bring myself to take pictures of those as well. It's such a sombre and shocking experience; not because it was the most gruesome war in the history of the world, but because of how well documented it was (publicly). There was this one image of a soldier holding the destroyed remains (including an arm, head and a bit of everything in between) which was devastating, and another of women and children's bodies laying on the ground with the caption, "Women and children who tried to get away."
Some say that the exhibit is one sided (but really, why shouldn't it be?). I would beg to differ. Maybe it depicts more of the Vietnamese casualties than the American or French, but what side these people belonged to doesn't really seem to be the point. The exhibit certainly doesn't hold back in blaming the US or other armies in it's captions and introductions and the display of propaganda is plentiful; but, if you go through the exhibit (as I did) reading little of the words and just taking in the photographs themselves, what you really see, are people. People and bombs and destruction and grief and death. The war wasn't just the Vietnamese against the US or the French, but it was often the Vietnamese against the Vietnamese. What the exhibit really highlighted for me was simply the pains of war.
During the entire viewing of the exhibit all I could feel was sadness, and all I could think of was the impact of each and every one of those photos and of the role of the photographer. Some of the photographs were of the photographers and the last images of them before they were killed. The photographers who survived wrote descriptions for the images in the museum. I don't normally like statements or descriptions (hence why I rarely take the time to read them), and most of the time I don't even like/read titles. With a lot of the pictures you didn't need a description or title to understand; however, there were a few pictures I couldn't help but want to know more about. There was one image of a girl in the midst of total destruction, mouth wide open, with a look of terror on her face. According to the write-up she was running away from an attack, running as her home was in flames, screaming 'Mommy! Mommy!' The picture alone was heart breaking, there was so much anguish in her face, but that description (which I did no justice to) nearly brought me to tears. There was another of children crying and running naked down the street, with soldiers in the background, and a small mother-daughter portrait added in the corner. The write-up explained who the central figure (a young girl) was and that she was struck by a napalm bomb. There were others, even more horrific and violent and disturbing.
The museum also had an exhibit commemorating Hanoi's 1000 year anniversary. They had images of the old and the new. Hanoi during the war and Hanoi today. It was hopeful, seeing pictures of despair juxtaposed with pictures of new life. There was one image in particular that I remember, it was of a little girl. It was simple. Just a little girl, standing on a boat beside a basket of shellfish, but she had the biggest brightest eyes and the happiest smile. It was beautiful.
If you ever get the chance. Go see it. Between the heart breaking photos inside, and all the tanks, bomb shells and war machines outside, it really is a unique experience. I've never seen anything like it before in my life (maybe I'm a little sheltered) and it really is an eye opener.
(Side note: In it's brief description of Vietnam's extensive history the guidebook suggests that if the US had bothered to pay any attention to that history a lot of lives could have been saved. At one point some of the Vietnamese even took up the slogan "Independence or Death". No matter how few people they had, or how few resources, the Vietnamese have always refused to surrender.)
We made it out alive however and managed to see quite a bit. The walking tour includes a lot of Saigon's various historical sights and museums. We didn't get the earliest start and we didn't make it to all of them but the city definitely does have a lot to offer. The most memorable for us, which I think is the same for most people, was the War Remnants Museum. It's more of a photo gallery than a museum but I found that that made it that much more moving. The exhibition on the ground floor, put together by Tim Page (as I understood from the guidebook) is incredible. Not to say that the rest of the exhibit isn't incredible, but that first floor really shook me. I took a photograph of the first photograph that struck me (in the Picassa album), but the rest were so horrific I couldn't bring myself to take pictures of those as well. It's such a sombre and shocking experience; not because it was the most gruesome war in the history of the world, but because of how well documented it was (publicly). There was this one image of a soldier holding the destroyed remains (including an arm, head and a bit of everything in between) which was devastating, and another of women and children's bodies laying on the ground with the caption, "Women and children who tried to get away."
Some say that the exhibit is one sided (but really, why shouldn't it be?). I would beg to differ. Maybe it depicts more of the Vietnamese casualties than the American or French, but what side these people belonged to doesn't really seem to be the point. The exhibit certainly doesn't hold back in blaming the US or other armies in it's captions and introductions and the display of propaganda is plentiful; but, if you go through the exhibit (as I did) reading little of the words and just taking in the photographs themselves, what you really see, are people. People and bombs and destruction and grief and death. The war wasn't just the Vietnamese against the US or the French, but it was often the Vietnamese against the Vietnamese. What the exhibit really highlighted for me was simply the pains of war.
During the entire viewing of the exhibit all I could feel was sadness, and all I could think of was the impact of each and every one of those photos and of the role of the photographer. Some of the photographs were of the photographers and the last images of them before they were killed. The photographers who survived wrote descriptions for the images in the museum. I don't normally like statements or descriptions (hence why I rarely take the time to read them), and most of the time I don't even like/read titles. With a lot of the pictures you didn't need a description or title to understand; however, there were a few pictures I couldn't help but want to know more about. There was one image of a girl in the midst of total destruction, mouth wide open, with a look of terror on her face. According to the write-up she was running away from an attack, running as her home was in flames, screaming 'Mommy! Mommy!' The picture alone was heart breaking, there was so much anguish in her face, but that description (which I did no justice to) nearly brought me to tears. There was another of children crying and running naked down the street, with soldiers in the background, and a small mother-daughter portrait added in the corner. The write-up explained who the central figure (a young girl) was and that she was struck by a napalm bomb. There were others, even more horrific and violent and disturbing.
The museum also had an exhibit commemorating Hanoi's 1000 year anniversary. They had images of the old and the new. Hanoi during the war and Hanoi today. It was hopeful, seeing pictures of despair juxtaposed with pictures of new life. There was one image in particular that I remember, it was of a little girl. It was simple. Just a little girl, standing on a boat beside a basket of shellfish, but she had the biggest brightest eyes and the happiest smile. It was beautiful.
If you ever get the chance. Go see it. Between the heart breaking photos inside, and all the tanks, bomb shells and war machines outside, it really is a unique experience. I've never seen anything like it before in my life (maybe I'm a little sheltered) and it really is an eye opener.
(Side note: In it's brief description of Vietnam's extensive history the guidebook suggests that if the US had bothered to pay any attention to that history a lot of lives could have been saved. At one point some of the Vietnamese even took up the slogan "Independence or Death". No matter how few people they had, or how few resources, the Vietnamese have always refused to surrender.)
Monday, October 18, 2010
Food for Thought
It should come as no surprise to anyone that Darren and I like to eat. I mean, our blog title and our blog address both reference food. We've had numerous conversations with friends and fellow travelers about how we think it's only right that people eat their way through the countries they visit. "Half the experience of a country is in its food". We're not the only people who think this, but somehow I feel like we do WAY more eating than other people. Especially in small towns like this.
Mui Ne is one of those small beach town destinations. One of those places that locals come to for a weekend getaway. In places like this, there's not a lot to do. We did a hike up the "Fairy Spring" and today we went sliding down the sand dunes; but otherwise, when we're not sitting by the pool soaking up sun or playing dominoes, we're planning on where to eat our next meal. Breakfast is always the same once we find somewhere we like, but we sometimes plan 2-3 days worth of meals at a time.
Mui Ne has everything. There seems to be a large Russian/Czech population so that's something different to choose from. There's an excellent selection of "international"/western food and local Vietnemese food, and the best part of a beach town are the beach side fresh seafood barbecues... I'm drooling just thinking about it all.
Darren and I are particularly fond of Indian food, and you can seriously get that stuff (in varying degrees) anywhere. We were on a slow boat for 2 days in Laos and when we stopped in a tiny river town called Pak Beng, there were Indian restaurants everywhere. So of course, we had no problem finding a fantastic Indian restaurant here in Mui Ne.
I'm pretty sure that anyone watching us eat tonight would think we hadn't eaten in weeks. The waitresses were actually watching us in utter amazement. We've noticed over the last couple days that when food is placed in front of us, we destroy it. We eat like a couple ravenous dogs, but when the food is as good as the food at Ganesh, we can't help but turn into animals. I think Darren once timed us, and it took us 5 minutes to polish off several plates of food. Tonight was probably a record. Darren was even eating the left over sauce from our butter chicken by the spoon-fulls. No naan, no rice, nothing. Just spoon-fulls of creamy, buttery deliciousness. If the waitress hadn't come to clear our plates I don't doubt Darren would've licked the whole platter clean. We astonished even ourselves tonight.
(Not a word of a lie: I just realised I have a little butter chicken sauce stuck under one of my nails, and yes, I did wash my hands.)
So here I sit, with a wonderful little quote I heard on "Friends" stuck in my head: "A moment on the lips, forever on the hips." I guess it's a good thing Darren and I eat so fast that sometimes the food doesn't even touch our lips! (Yes, we've put on some weight.)
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Beautiful British Columbia
As I was basking in the first bit of sun we've seen since we got to Mui Ne and listening to some good tunes I found myself missing a luxury of home. It may seem absurd to miss anything whilst lying in the sun with the pool to your left and the ocean to your right, the sun and wind in perfect harmony to still get a tan without getting too hot... but I miss driving. Yes, of all things. I miss driving with the windows down and the sun shining, singing away to my favourite driving songs. Whether it was driving from Coquitlam to Abbotsford for school, or just the fifteen minute drive to work. I enjoy those few minutes of solitude with me and my music and the coolness of the wind (our vehicle is simple and does not have AC). That is of course on an agreeable traffic day when I'm not running late or being postponed by dense traffic or an accident, but on good days, I really do enjoy a good drive. We rent motorbikes on occasion, but it's not the same (helmets ruin my hair and there's no music). The drive up to Prince George is a regular thing for us and the summer drive is just beautiful. Nothing quite compares to the feeling of a loaded IPod and the beauty of the canyon on a summer's day. That's one thing Darren and I can fully agree on when we're reflecting and comparing: there is no beauty like the beauty of BC. As the days roll by we can't help but think about how soon it'll be before we're home. There are things I don't want to leave, but I do look forward to taking that breath of fresh BC air and enjoying a long, music-filled drive.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
"Tropical Tastes and warm breezes"
Read this in a menu at an art cafe yesterday. It sums up what we're feeling, about these last days, perfectly.
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